Back in my college days I shared a house with two guys both named Dave. One night, in a fit of annoyance, I decided that they needed nicknames so that I could keep them straight. I named one Sparky and the other The Chief. You would have to have known them but trust me this was a moment of brilliance. The names stuck for as long as I knew them.
Haj
The closest thing to a nickname is just a shortening of my real name, so I say it doesn’t count.
My brother, on the other hand, is Paul to some people. His name is really Erin, but he met a guy that just thought his name was Paul… “I know that’s not your name, but I just keep thinking it is. Mind if I just call you Paul?”
So… he’s Paul.
Back in elementary school he was also Ernie, like the Sesame Street guy.
I have a friend who is in a PhD program in psychology. Part of how we express our mutual admiration for each other is by continual insults. One day, in the middle of a tirade, he interrupted me with, “you know, when I finish my dissertation, you’re going to have to treat me with more respect. You’re going to have to call me Dr. Fuckface.” I have ever since (although it’s shortened to “Doc” when decorum demands it).
My mother grew up with three younger sisters. When she gets flustered around my brother and me, she often refers to us by her sisters’ names. I’m Debbie (despite being male).
I’m Mickey. I’ve been given the nickname three times for three different reasons.
In elementary school I had Dwayne Wayne glasses. Only instead of the shades flipping straight up, they went to the sides, creating the look of Mickey Mouse ears.
In middle school, I was a huge fan of the Mickey Mouse Club. So were all my friends, but somehow, only I got the name. It was printed on my soccer jersey at that point.
In high school, my chemistry teacher typed my name into his computer as Mictoria instead of Victoria. He said “I guess that makes you Mickey, not Vicky.” He went so far that I didn’t get credit for my papers with my real name on them.
I haven’t been called Mickey for years. I’m sure it will come back soon.
Heh. My Nickname That Won’t Die is Juju. Variations are Jujubean and Jujufruit. Because my name is Julia, get it? Good Lord, take me now.
I too have a nickname that just won’t die.
It’s the same as my Username - Grimace.
It used to royally get under my skin and irritate me, but somewhere along the way, I gave up fighting it and just embraced it.
It all started when way back when, I was a manager for a Fast food joint, and no, it wasn’t the golden arches.
A friend of mine comes in, and I had JUST gotten a shake from the shake machine, and was headed back to do inventory when he came in to say hi. Well, this one day, I was wearing a DARK PURPLE polo shirt (which got burned that night I may add.)
My good ‘friend’ looks at me, and says, “Hey Grimace, you’re in the wrong chain store.” Naturally every damn employee heard it, and from that day on my fate was sealed. It spread from work, to home, to everywhere, and I just couldn’t get away from it, so I decided to just go with the flow.
That and with the people I know, the nickname could have been alot worse than Grimace, so I was lucky 
.
I’ve been called grasshopper by various different people in different states, non of whom knew each other. I must have it tatooed somewhere I can’t see.
There is a family who used to live near me that were all known by the same nickname which originated due to one silly mistake made by one of the family members during the first world war. The young lad whose surname was Thompson had joined up and was lined up on parade the first morning. The drill sergeant was making them all call out their numbers 26,27,28,29… and when it came to him he shouted out twenty-ten. Henceforth that family has been known as the Twenty-Ten Thompsons.
I know two daves, myself and my friend so this inspired another friend to name me Chimpywimpykins and the other dave; Woody or Bunnykins thank god i changed my email address and it is over now.
My nicknames are:
Grover
Nana (actually short for banana, a nickname of a nickname, hmm…)
Jellitoes
Berry
Ronamily (Grandma’s creative)
Mr. Toes calls me: Fish, Goose, Goose-eggs, Calnico (my fave)
You would think that I have so many nicknames because I have a common name. Nope, I have a very unusual name (at least in ths country). I guess it’s just human nature to name things 
Ugh, my undying nickname is Moo. Doesn’t sound too bad, but it comes with a terrible curse. . . Cows.
My RL name is Molly, but when I was little all I could say was Moo-ee. My parents both called me Moo throughout my childhood. They also gave me cow stuffed animals, cookie jars, figurines etc. If it had a cow or cow print I got it. As a teenager the cows tapered off, but Moo stuck around. At 16 my friends heard my mom call me that and picked it up. As well as the cows. Now hardly a holiday goes by that I don’t get a cow of some sort from somebody. I’ve come to accept it will never go away.
Awwwww, Juju, that’s my sister’s name too, and we call her all of those. Take it from another Italian family, it’s only meant with the most affectionate intentions.
I’ve been called a bunch of things, but Big Spender is the one that’s been sticking the last couple of years. Ever since the 2-day trip to Las Vegas where I spent about a month’s pay.
When the movie “Baseketball” came out, I went with some friends to see it. The unfortunate thing is, appearance wise, I strongly resemble the character who had the nickname “little bitch”…
That alone explains it all…
My three year old daughter is, shall we say, rambunctious, and has earned a few nicknames. I didn’t realize how much one of them had stuck until one day, after she said “Daddy, your name is Scott XXXX” and I said “yes, and what is your name?” and she said “Kate XXXX”. I said “that’s right, and what’s your middle name?” to which she replied “Trouble on a Stick!” with a big smile on her face…
I don’t have a nickname (that I know of) myself but a mate of mine does have a strange one. We were “boatmates” for a summer, he was the Cook. We had two other guys on board, all friends, so some joking took place. The captain eventually started blaming “The Damned Cook” for everything that went wrong on board, and as the weeks and months flew by we completely stopped using his real name. He had become “The Damned Cook”.
A year later or so I met him at a post-wedding party and a (girl)friend of his heard his name mentioned, and went “What? That’s your name?”. It looks like he had only been called “The Damned Cook” that whole time, and I think he still goes by that name. The funny thing is, he doesn’t even object to it. Sometimes the “Damned” is skipped, but he is always The Cook.
I have two nicknames that follow me around, Betty Boop - because of my apparent resemblance to the cartoon character of the same name, and Basil (as in Basil Fawlty), because of my somewhat volatile temper and tendancy to beat up inanimate objects if they don’t do what I want them to.
One of my friends made herself a screenname on AIM that contained the word “kaisa” and most everyone calls her “Kaisa” now. She doesn’t particularly like or dislike it, but I think it sounds a lot better than her real name (Jessica). By the way, if you google for “kaisa” you find a lot of people with that name.
I am the youngest of six children. I grew up knowing that if someone ‘made a bad smell’ and nobody would admit it or it was generally unknown one of two things would be said.
He who smelt it delt it. (common I’m sure)
or
It must have been The Phantom.
Apparently I am the Phantom.
When I was THREE YEARS OLD FOR CRYING OUT LOUD I had a little accident while we were in the car. I denied responsibility and of course later was found out. That is when the whole Phantom thing started. I didn’t even remember this of course because after all I was THREE YEARS OLD FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.
How old was I when I found out the secret origin of The Phantom?
Do you want to guess?
Did you guess 36 years old?
Yes that’s right. My family was still making fun of me behind my back/in front of my face for 33 YEARS!!!
And they wonder why I moved 2000 miles away.
(my sig line makes this even funnier)
My brother-in-law got stuck with a nickname because of my sister eeyoring. She would call up my mom or me and explain what happened to poor Kevin. His name was never just Kevin, she would always insert the “poor” before his name. Poor Kevin got fired today, Poor Kevin couldn’t find his keys, Poor Kevin is now being called Poor Kevin. I’m sure that that wasn’t her intentions at all but it sure tickled my mom and my funny bones. Any letters sent are addressed to my sister and Poor Kevin. The rest of the family has since picked up on this and uses that monniker as well. And that’s all I have to say about Poor Kevin.
I accidentally gave myself the nickname that stuck (sort of) almost fifteen years ago. Kind of a long story, but for a subset of my acquaintances, I now and forever go by “Goober,” or just “Goob.”