Tag Archives: new york city

#47 The Hipster

It's Hip to be Square

It's Hip to be Square

Lead by an army of tight jeans, thick-rimmed glasses, fedoras, and scarves, the Hipster has a seemingly singular goal: don’t conform to what pop culture tells you is “cool”. Wear whatever you want. As long as it conforms to what other Hipsters tell you is cool.

Such is the dichotomy of Hipster culture. They are the uber-cool rebellion, the retro-hip stylistas of Generation X…but that “I don’t care” look takes careful, deliberate planning. They have to find ripped jeans and a black top hat to match their vintage Clash t-shirt. And that hand-woven scarf from Chelsea needs to match those patched-up denim jeans they bought from a boutique last week.

But don’t let their frail body structure fool you, the Hipster Nation is a force to be reckoned with. Popularity among white, wealthy, suburban twenty-somethings has nearly tripled in the last five years, leading to an increase in book clubs, “ironic” mustaches, and mop-top haircuts. Sales of Parliament Cigarettes and old school Chuck Taylors have seen similar spikes, all thanks to being “Hipster essentials”.

Hipsters use the sarcasm they garnered during their early 90s youth, but combine that with an irony they feel is synonymous with their culture. In other words, they’re so ironically sarcastic that they’re actually making a completely normal statement, they just roll their eyes when doing it.

Blue collar is so hip!

Blue collar is so hip!

They are self loathers. Despite their detest for “frat guys”, Hipsters love cheap beers (prime choices being Schafer and Pabst Blue Ribbon). They also prefer to shop at thrift stores and find inexpensive clothing. They hate designer clothes, yet are perfectly content with having their parents pay for their brownstone.

Key Hipster traits:

– Hipsters are ultra-PC, to the point that it’s politically incorrect to use the term “PC.”
– Hipsters think it’s cool that strangers can’t pinpoint their sexual orientation.
– Hipsters sweat low-fidelity rock music and any bands that doesn’t have more than 40 people in the crowd. The minute the band sells out a show at “Spaceland” in LA or “The Warsaw” in brooklyn, hipsters find the band completely shitty.
– Hipsters love ten speed bikes.
– Hipsters love V-neck t-shirts and poorly designed tattoos.
– Hipsters can’t dance but hide this lack of talent through frowns & tilted heads.
– Hipsters are content with being mugged. it doesn’t bother them ’cause it’s not their money (it’s daddy’s loot).

You’ll find the Hipster predominantly “chilling” in metropolitan areas. Namely, New York City and Los Angeles, with large pockets concentrated in Brooklyn and Los Feliz (respectively). You may notice the Hipster bumming a smoke outside cofee shops, at Costco buying bulk packs of plain white t-shirts, or if you’re a girl, borrowing your jeans.
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Also Known As: It’s Hip To Be Square, Dora the Fedora, Hipster Nation, That Dude With A Scarf, Too Cool For School, The New Emo
Related: The Metrosexual, The Emo Kid

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#41 The Metrosexual

We're 51% straight!

We're 51% straight!

If it’s cool to be gay, than this guy is balls-deep in an ass. And if being gay is uncool, than this guy is still balls deep, but he’ll be blasting the latest Akon mashup and feigning heterosexuality. This is the confused dichotomy of the Metrosexual — dress like a gay person to score chicks.

The Metrosexual is the Clark Kent of the gay world, able to walk on the straight side then run into a telephone booth and come out with a feather boa. They want to be gay so badly that they’re willing to put on the full costume and shake their tailfeather. But if you’re a gay guy, don’t you even LOOK at them. Because they’ll make you a knuckle sandwich with extra man-meat.

It’s ironic, however, that while the Metrosexual embraces gay fashion and stylings, they are perhaps the most “homophobic” people on earth. Notice the quotation marks I put around that word. It’s common knowledge that many such metrosexuals will outwardly hate, but on the inside, be as gay as Clay Aiken. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

If there’s a 2-for-1 deal on waxing, they’ll get their chest and their taint waxed. If there’s a sale at Barney’s, they’ll be waiting outside the door with a $5000 credit limit. And if there’s a new trendy club, they’ll be there with greased hair and a collared shirt.

The Metrosexual lives a fabulous life, with a peppering of douchiness mixed in. So how do you tell a metro from a gay person? It’s a tough distinction, and one I don’t really care about making.

What’s particularly interesting is that while the Metrosexual philosophy is aimed at pleasing women, they are often the butt of the joke on both sides of the fence. Straight men dislike Metros, Gay men dislike Metros, and most women scoff at Metros. So that pretty much means that only Metrosexuals like other Metrosexuals. Again, man on man.

You can largely find Metrosexuals concentrated in New York City and areas of Long Island/New Jersey. They love clubbing, rap music where the vocals are robotized, and being inside another man (not in a gay way). Hobbies include: Frosting their tips, buying stripped shirts, Madonna (especially her new stuff), scarves, and reading GQ, both online and in print.
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Also Known As: Metro, Gay For Play, The Bare-Chested Stripped-Shirt Guy, The Confused Clubber, Ball Street, The Fabulous Homophobe

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#37 The Political Buzzkill

Having a good time?  Let's talk Politics!

Having a good time? Let's talk Politics!

While everyone at the party is getting drunk and having a good time, the Political Buzzkill has only one objective in mind: find that buzz and kill it.

There are two unspoken rules in the world of drinking: Don’t pass out with your shoes on, and Don’t talk about politics. The rules are simple. They’re here to keep order. The shoe rule establishes “writing on” criteria and the politics rule is there to keep out belligerent arguing in a jovial atmosphere.

But that’s what the Political Buzzkill feeds off of. Arguing their views at the expense of others. “Who are you voting for?”, “Gosh. Hilary was SO much more qualified.” “I don’t know about you, but I can’t take four more years!”

They are the quintessential annoying drunk. They don’t understand that drinking is about fun and escapism, or that people don’t like them. Like an Abortion Doctor speaking at a Pro-Life convention, they seek out arguements and insist on fighting them. They’re divisive. They don’t bring up politics to discuss it, they bring it up to tell you what’s “right”.

A minute ago, we were all having a good time together. But with the help of the PB, the room is now miraculously divided into Red, Blue, and Mexicans. It’s like Moses parting the Red Wine Sea, only no one’s having any fun.

“Did you hear what Palin said? Oh my god, she is so unqualified!” No, I didn’t. I was macking it to this hot chick until you rolled over here. And now my game is dead because she thinks I’m friends with your ultra-liberal ass.

You can find the Political Buzzkill at any party, bar, or social gathering. Much like their cousin the Carlos Mencia, they are part of the Succubus Family, and feed off of harshing people’s mellow. They may appear to be normal and even-keeled — they may even party like it’s Spring Break. But when they open their mouth, make sure you have an extra sock to stuff into it.

As we get closer and closer to the November election, the prevalence of the PB will increase to epic-ly shitty proportions. You may want to just lock yourself in your home with a bottle of Jack. If you are so bold to venture out, carry an extra pair of cotton socks. Just in case they bring their Fiancee.
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Also Known As: Assholes, Drunky McRepublican, The Political Talker, Palin’s Proverbs, Buzz Killington, Jehova’s Witnesses Meets Whiskey, The Political Party Party, Annoying Drunks

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#23 The Fake Friend

Oh my god, you look soooo cute!
“Oh my God, Theenk you sooooooooo much!”

There is no one as transparent and flaky as the Fake Friend. Having a party? She’ll totally be there! But don’t hold your breath, because she won’t be.

The Fake Friend is the first to call you her BFF, and the last person to actually do anything BFF-related. It’s like a penis in a porn scene: all excited and spunky, but as soon as it’s business is done, it’s flaccid and out the door.

Because the Fake Friend serves only one purpose, to butter you up. They will tell you everything you want to hear, and then some. Much like their Hollywood idols, they function on a “what can you do for me” basis, whereas the point of their conversation is to either: (1) Get something out of you, or (2) If not #1, end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Like a chameleon of uselessness, the Fake Friend appears in two main forms: the “acquaintance“, and the “newly-met BFF“. You’ve known the acquaintance Fake Friend for years, and at this point, you’ve come to expect nothing but shit-eating smiles and sunshine out of her ass. But the Newly-met Fake Friend a sneaky pawn. It could be anyone. At a party, in the office, and more often, working the sales floor at your favorite shopping destination.

To catch a FF is not difficult. Here are a few key phrases:

OMG, look at all the money I spent!“Oh my God, I love you!”
“Oh my God, That handbag is soooo cute!”
“Oh my God, I can’t wait to see you this weekend!”

Pretty much anything snarky preempted with an “oh my God!” should give you an idea of who you’re dealing with.

Don’t get me wrong, everyone has their fake moments — pretending to not despise that annoying coworker, biting your tongue around an whorish ex-girlfriend, telling your fat friend she looks “stunning”. These are the everyday lies that hold together society. But to the Fake Friend, there is no “sometimes”. Every moment is part of a transparent, over-the-top show.

You can find the Fake Friend in large quanities in Los Angeles and New York City, although Fake Friends are scattered throughout the world and in every major Retail Outlet. The Fake Friend will more than likely be an attractive female, coming from a life of affluence and ease. Although rare, a Fake Friend can be a male, although he would typically just be a Douchebag, or in LA, your Agent.

When you come in contact with a Fake Friend, especially an acquaintance that you know as a Fake Friend, beat her to the punch. Get your voice high pitched and overly excited, and tell her “Oh my God, you look soooo cute!”. Then, before she has time to react, point to someone across the room and say, “Ooh my god, I just have to talk to Becky. I’ll see you later, okaay?!!” And then leave her there in a hurricane of fake friendery. If you’re lucky, her head will explode.
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Also Known As: The Flake, The Nevershow, Your New BFF, The Award for Best Actress in a Conversation, OMG Overkill, The Wicked Witch of Your World

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#20 The Starbucks Writer

Look at me!  I\'m Writing!!
“Look at me, I’m writing!”

With the exception of Reality Show Contestants, there is no dreamer as desperate for attention as the Starbucks Writer. They’ll weave a public web of notes, script pages, and laptop accessories in an attempt to catch any wandering eye, and in turn, become a Hollywood star.

The Starbucks Writer will almost always be a disheveled, struggling hipster. They’ve heard J.K. Rowling’s story of poverty and struggle, and this is their nonfat-soy-latte version of that. They take great pride in “working” publicly. Ironically, they lack just enough pride to get a real job and write at home.

I worked for three years on this scriptAlthough they are an aspiring writer, they’ve already succeeded in being a total donkeyboner. They’ve taken up the last available seat, bogarted the power outlet, and hoarded two tables for their script-page collage. Their loitering puts out a clear message to other Coffee Shop Patrons: “I’m here, so go f*** yourself”

If you ask a Starbucks Writer why they’re writing in a crowded coffee shop, they’ll tell you that “they love the environment”. Sure. Who doesn’t love hearing “Grande Pumpkin Spice Frappaccino for Steve!” every thirty seconds while they’re trying to concentrate. The truth is that the Starbucks Writer is waiting for that Golden Ticket moment — you know, when the Movie Exec. comes over and says, “Hey, you write? You’re perfect!!”

You can find the Starbucks Writer in any coffee shop in Los Angeles, and concentrated around Rockefeller Plaza in New York City. They will most likely be writing a poorly structured screenplay about a broke person that hits the big time (see above).

If you see a Starbucks Writer, your best best is to look away. Just like a homeless person, making eye contact with them is definite no-no. If you initiate contact, they will undoubtably tell you “you’re perfect” for the role they’re writing. You’re not, because they wrote the role for themselves. Just walk away.
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Also Known As: The Coffee Shop SpaceWhore, The Ham Writer, Captain Dickshit, The Caffeine Diaries, Lowfat Soy Screenwriter, The Barista Novelist

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#11 The Fake Boob

Suck on that
There’s nothing like two silicon implants of self-confidence. For the Fake Boob, that’s what it’s all about: implanting attention.

Much like Hoodini, the Fake Boob will disappear for a brief moment, then miraculously reappear with a set of rockin’ tits. Bigger ones.

Flaunting is critical to the Fake Boob. In order to feel that they’ve “gotten their money’s worth”, they will show, flash, and lotion those mammary mountains like it was going out of style. Their wardrobe must be as chest-heavy as possible. Those now-huge knockers must be shoved and squeezed into the smallest clothing possible. If it can be arranged, doll clothes are a plus.

The Fake Boob is driven by the concept of “bigger is better”. The mere thought of bigger boobs gets their nipples hard. By increasing the bust size, they increase their life. Happiness, wealth — all their problems will be transplanted away. This is known as the “old titty fix”.

All NaturalOccasionally, the Fake Boob may loose their mind, and inflate their breast size to abnormal proportions. Like these martian balloons to the left. It’s a mental lapse known by Doctors as “biggitittyitus”.

And while men may oggle over the Fake Boob’s iconic spheres, they are still fake. You’re not really fooling anyone. When said funbags start to sag, the Fake Boob is then faced with a whole new set of Old Fake Boob problems.

You can find the Fake Boob concentrated in Los Angeles, on porn stars, and scattered throughout other major cities. The Fake Boob will more than likely be attracted to other fake things, such as the Fake Tan, the Fake Friend, and in horrific circumstances, The Blowout.

So if your friend goes to the supermarket and comes back with a fresh batch of confidence and two cantaloupes under her shirt, be wary. She may have just become a Fake Boob. (And you may have just scored front row seats to a titty show. No dollar bills required.)
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Also Known As: The Funbag Fix, Silicon Confidence, Major Boobage, The “Eyes Down Here” Girl, The Titty Transformer, The “Notice Something Different?” Dame, Boobing For Compliments, Metamorphatits

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