In college I had a friend, "Mark Coolbeak" (all names have been changed to protect the annoying). He irritated everybody including all of my other friends. I certainly recognized that he was obnoxious, and yet, somehow, it didn't bother me that much. This is not because I'm an exceptionally tolerant or forgiving person in general. On the contrary, I'm rather picky about who I'm willing to spend my time with. It was "Mark's" particular form of obnoxiousness to which I was immune. I can't tell you why. It's simply true.
We all have our "Mark Coolbeaks".* I've actually had several over the years. They say something about us, although I don't know exactly what it is. It undoubtedly has something to do with archetypes, ur-Egos, and weird grade school teachers. But it's O.K. They're there. We've got no say in it. It's just a part of who we are.
Who's your "Mark Coolbeak"?**
* There is a converse to this principal. We each have individuals to whom we are exceptionally allergic, our "Kimberly Stones" as it were.
** No, I don't actually want to know their real names - thank you very much. And if you say that I'm your "Mark Coolbeak" I'm going to cry.