You could change your dopername to T.D.S. Wanker.
I loved the Sandman issue where 600-year-old Hob Gadling (passing for a normal mortal) is visiting a Medieval Fair type place and complains about its inauthenticity. Paraphrased:
“Not enough shit. What people forget is that back then, everyone was covered in shit. And no face tumours. When was the last time you saw someone with a great big boil hanging off their face?”
ROFLMAOSTC
Really, it’s what guanolad said. Anyone that doesn’t share your hobby.
But I’ll give special recognition to the fantasy sportswankers. Simply because they are currently the most prolific, at least around here.
Now let me tell you about the color scheme on my Warhammer 40k Necron army. It’s really cool.
Anyone?
Hello?
We’re all kings now.
I’ve done tons of genealogical research for my own family, and I couldn’t agree more. I definitely get into the Sudoku meets Zen fits of trying to figure out exactly who this guy’s father was or if this guy from 1624 Virginia is related to this guy from 1682 Virginia with similar surname, but I recognize that it’s a solitary and limited interest thing. I try not to share anymore than stuff that I think relative strangers would find interesting (an ancestress who was her own step-sister or how much slaves were traded for during the Civil War and the like), but once it gets to the point that it’s just names on a piece of paper even I lose interest as my main purpose is trying to reconstruct lives.
By far the most entertaining thing in the research, though, is reading the editorials in old southern newspapers. This actual one I clipped from an Elmore County, Alabama, newspaper at the time of/in reference to the Evelyn Nesbitt trial:
I LOVE things like this, especially since you know for a fact that this woman would have stripped naked and wrestled the corset off of anybody who tried to get between her and the only copy of the latest installment of this sordid tale she so “hated”.
But as far as being 18th cousins 21 times removed to the undermayor of Epilepsy Glenn, Tennessee, I couldn’t agree more; I can see why it might be interesting to you but not to anybody else.
Don’t tell me it’s completely chrome like you were trying to be exactly like the Terminator! Mine’s white on shiny-black, like shiny space skeletons. The only time I’ve won Best Painted at an RTT (more for my Destroyers with wings I cut off Fisher-price birds and put Red Gore on and faded a mixture of Red Gore, Shining Gold, Mithril Silver and 'ardcoat onto it.)
That settles it. You’re off my Christmas card list. My lovely ‘65 Corvair convertible is sitting in the garage now, looking gorgeous, patiently waiting for me to once again get the time…to repair it. Freakin’ choke linkage…
(I love my little death machine, but I don’t think I’m a wanker about it. Maybe I should set aside some time to reflect on that, though.)
I nominate scrapbookers. In their minds they have elevated glue and construction paper projects to the level of fine art. They have dedicated “scrap studios” in their homes, filled with paper that costs $1.50 a sheet, little stick-on doodads that cost $5, and paper cutters that cost upwards of $80. Some of them call themselves “life artists”. They even have a Hall of Fame. For scrapbooking. Really.
The long and short of it is: There’s jackasses no matter where you turn.
I’ve worked my way through a lot of hobbies in the last 10 years, and there are kill-joy know-it-alls everywhere.
When I bought a mountain bike and started riding the local trails, I ran into a group of “professional” riders from a bike shop who proceeded to give me crap about not having the proper safety equipment. When they asked “Where’s your helmet?’, I responded " My Mommy doesn’t make me wear one”. They were nonplussed. Screw them.
When I took up skydiving, there were a lot of “sky gods” at the drop zone who didn’t want to waste their time jumping with the rookies. Screw them. We rookies formed our own group and did our own jumps.
No matter what hobby I have been involved in over the years, flying, home-built aircraft, scuba, target shooting, motorcycling…there have always been know-it-all blowholes who try to do the best they can to try and set themselves up as authorities on the subject, and in the process suck the life and fun out it.
In short, ALL hobbies have their own tedious wankers. And in my experience, most of them are ALL TALK.
I used to be in the Danish Home Guard - sort of a National Guard, but local defense only and nowhere near the level of funding. Basically, a bunch of civilians donning uniforms if and when, mostly in order to relieve professional soldiers from guard and surveillance duty - but of course also to take the fight to the enemy, circumstances permitting.
Mostly old soldiers keeping their hand in, keeping some hard-earned skills intact and joining in the sort of cameraderie that seems to spring up whenever armed men in uniform are together. Good people.
And then there were the keen ones. Ye gads, the keen ones…
They would spend incredible sums on “better” gear, read books and watch movies on Special Forces operations, load themselves down with all sorts of tactical flashlights and special utensils and whatnot. They’d talk endlessly about the SAS and the Spetznas and the Jaeger Force, about helicopter rappelling and long-range reconnaissance missions. None of which was really the mission.
Getting them to read a field manual or practice map reading, however, was like pulling teeth.
Curiously, they’d tend to be absent from the firing range and the exercises. The outdoorsy aspect of training - particularly in inclement weather - never really appealed to them.
If they showed up, they’d have to be very carefully led, as they’d tend to be hyper-aggressive in their tactical choices, with little attention paid to relative strengths, assigned fields of fire, friendly fire, the overall tactical situation or such details as - orders. They scorned defensive measures like camouflage or - heaven forbid - digging in. And they did not take post-exercise critique kindly. Even if they could be made to shut up at the post-ex, they’d talk endlessly afterwards about how their decision to interpret orders to “observe and report” as “engage enemy armoured column with rifle fire” was really, truly the right one under the circumstances.
They’d always be the ones asking for more full-auto action on the firing range. (And then have to be gently told that the time and ammo would be better spent improving their grouping at the 100 m range…)
I am not belittling their courage. If the balloon had gone up, they’d undoubtedly perform heroic acts of incredible self-sacrifice, mostly due to a lack of understanding of the situation. I just would’ve wished that they’d be in somebody else’s unit when doing so.
I found a two-fer, the flashlight fork. Stab wiley meals in the dead of night.
Fimbles? Obviously, he’s been spending too much time with his friend Fomas.
Maybe it’s a regional thing. Around here, your typical Warhammer player is willing and able to kick your ass if you try to make fun of them. Sort of the jocks of the nerd world. Seriously, some of those guys are scary psycho motherfuckers.
As for gamers generally, yeah, some of them really are stinky losers who still live with their parents, but they’re the minority. And anybody who says otherwise won’t get to make an initiative roll unless their Spot check beats my Hide check to prevent my extra sneak attack damage.
Nah, he means he collects these dudes.
They look kinda nice displayed in the front room, but they are a bugger to dust.
Slap the word “Tactical” in front of the product description, paint it in camo, write "as used by the Uzbekistan Special Forces " and these people would buy it.
Hilarious, especially the last paragraph. Thanks for the laugh. 
Four pages and not a single word in defence of the audiobores and their right to waste their own money as they see fit and and weary everyone else within earshot in the process? Can it be that the SDMB has finally found a minority group we can all unite in disliking?
Well, I don’t think anyone’s said that the audiobores can’t spend their money as they see fit. I’ve just seen two themes about them: Dopers retain the right to mock people for what they seen as stupid decisions; and Dopers wish that audiobores would stop bothering us as individuals.
They can spend all the money they like, so long as they’re quiet about it, IOW.
A large part of my job involves selling cables and so on to AudioBores, so if they want to keep me employed by spending large sums of money on different cables with gold plated ends, teflon coating, or dilithium crossover stranding, then that’s fine with me. … 
I think that probably defines tedious wankerhood when it comes to hobbies: the inability to shut the fuck up about how you choose to waste your money. Added to that is the construction of supposedly functional objects like sound systems which in fact seem to exist for purely ritual or ceremonial purposes, like audio ziggurats at which one is supposed to worship.
It’s perfectly possible to spend vast amounts of money on camera equipment and acoutrements, for example, and yet most camera buffs seem to actually use their equipment, most of which seems to do what the owner paid for: I can’t really recall being bored by a photography buff in quite the same way as an audiobore.