A despicable breed who share interests and sympathy with the geeks, but have somehow managed to end up with a popular set of friends. These double agents may even go to their geek friends' houses at the weekend to paint little lead goblins, but within school hours they are inexplicably distant, their one concession to the sham of a friendship being the fact that they only laugh half-heartedly at the routine deconstruction of the geek's psyche.

That was me. Going round to the geek HQ at 6am with "the cool gang", in order to noisily disrupt their charity 48 hour Dungeons & Dragons marathon (naturally, they were asleep). And then turning up in the afternoon to do my stint as Dungeon Master.
God knows how I got away with it.

A 48 hour D&D marathon would not have even charted on the radar of a real "cool gang", and they certainly wouldn't have bothered to get out of bed early to go and disturb it. They'd be too busy sleeping off hangovers or receiving blow jobs from their flesh and blood girlfriends.
Unless, of course, your "cool gang" consisted of a bunch of Robert Smith wannabes who took pleasure in mocking all who did not share their pretentious nihilism. In which case we - I mean you - were most assuredly not cool in the eyes of everyone else.

I must object to the way you (Log?) edited my submission to read as if I was a member of a "cool" gang of Robert Smith wannabes. I couldn't even make it as a member of that gang; in reality I was unceremoniously dumped by my friends when they "discovered" the Cure, and went back to the charity D&D marathon, notching up an impressive 36 hours before falling victim to Sleep +1. To add insult to injury, I was later ostracised by even the D&D crowd when they discovered the wonders of smoking pot. It's only a matter of time until you pair realise just how tragically sad I really am.

Don't be silly Phil! We know exactly how tragically sad you are.

Oh dear, a brassy, Two Ronnies style "Waaaah-waaaaahhhh" sound is filling the website.