These days, the high streets of most large towns and cities in Great Britain look pretty much identical, and as there are Yates’, Tiger Tigers and Walkabouts everywhere, it makes sense that every weekend you’d find the same generic clientele in each soulless venue, regardless of its geography.
Some of the usual suspects at these weekly meat-markets include:
Every teenage male in the club falls into this category, in fact, most of the single blokes in there do, no matter what their age is. Having checked out all the females present, they will settle on one that they deem stare-worthy and proceed to eye-fuck the living shit out of her until they have drunk enough to attempt conversation. Then they will continue to gaze creepily from across the room till the bar closes. Then they will go home. Alone. Again.
These are the fellas who have sacrificed their personality in their quest for really big biceps and a thick neck. They are usually found strutting around the club in a vest or far-too-small shirt/jumper looking down on all the normally proportioned people or doing that pathetic ‘fold your arms and push your biceps up with your hands to make them look bigger’ thing. Fancy a challenge? Try getting them to talk about something other than working out or themselves.
The ‘hard’ man
He actually tends to be a rather lonely, jealous individual who spends most of his evenings out looking for love. Of course, as a genuine ‘hard-nut’, he will usually try to find someone half his size to pick on in order to showcase his masculinity to potential mates. Or maybe he’ll hit the boyfriend of the girl he fancies. After all, nothing says ‘stable relationship offered here’ like sudden outbursts of alcohol-fuelled violence.
These are the ladies who dress like sluts (there are ruder ways I could’ve put it) but take great offence to the advances of any male that takes an interest. This makes it very difficult for sex-starved men to locate the real sluts, which causes them much frustration. This leads to an aggressively charged atmosphere and increases the likelihood of meat-heads battering the shit out of each other at chuck-out time. It’s as if those hot pants cause a really depressing butterfly effect…
Lads, it’s safer to just find yourself:
The ‘ten-to-Two’ girl/guy(credit to my boy Dave for this one)
The bar is closed, the music’s stopped and the house lights are on. You have failed to pull all night and now you are desperate. Your dry spell will end tonight. Basically, this is whoever you can convince to come home with you before the place has emptied. I’m not sure which role is more tragic- the person doing the picking up or the person who agrees… But don’t worry about that now, you can deal with the regret and shame (and you will have to, both of you) when you wake up in the morning.
The self-conscious dancer
This is anyone on the dance floor who is not utterly wasted or chewing their own face off. You can tell the self-conscious males by their tense shoulders and lack of lower body movement (unless it’s pressed up against something…) and the females by their occasional glances around to check who’s looking and that weird squatting down then standing up again dance that some of them do and are convinced is sexy (I’m sure it is when executed properly… but it rarely is). If you ever have the misfortunate of being in a club sober- have a look, it’s quite entertaining, in a sad way.
You can split new drivers into two categories: The timid and The reckless.
The timid simply need some support and as more experienced road users, we are the ones to offer it. If they are taking rather a long time to perform a turn or parallel park at the side of the road, for example, offer some gentle encouragement with a few short-sharp horn blasts. If they are driving a little too slowly for your liking, simply inform them by tailgating them for a mile or two then performing a dangerous overtaking manoeuvre, preferably on a blind corner. Remember to always ‘cut them up’ after passing.
The reckless drives a £50 car and knows it. Within weeks they evolve into The Kamikaze. If you’re lucky, they will have ‘P’ plates on their car, the ‘P’ standing for ‘Probably best you keep your distance.’
Apparently this person doesn’t realise their car has more than two gears. Or maybe they think they’re driving a tractor. Either way, if you’re in a rush to get somewhere, nine times out of ten this is who will be in front of you. They also tend be:
The slightest bend in the road? BRAKE! Speed hump? BRAKE! Car coming in the opposite direction? BRAKE! Driving down a tiny incline? FOR GOD’S SAKE, BRAKE!!!!!
The twat and his horn
You always get one in a traffic jam, usually in an expensive German car (funny that…). They seem to think their horn contains magical powers and repeated use will somehow clear whatever it is that is causing the hold up. All it really does is inform everyone else that there is a self-important fuck-tard in the shiny motor…
I know- not technically a driver, but a fucking menace on the roads nonetheless. Again, they can be sub-categorised: The hardcore and The novice
The hardcore: In their mind they’re Lance Armstrong. In reality they’re Barry from Accounting. Clad in spandex (always a good look), these are the self-righteous arseholes who bang on your car if they feel an injustice has been inflicted upon them… which is always, of course.
The novice: Seemingly not familiar with the rules of the road, this cyclist seems intent on dying today. Whether it is by weaving in and out of parked cars like a game of peek-a-boo-Russian-Roulette or just wobbling into passing traffic, they will be leaving their mark on the world today and that mark will be on your bonnet and possibly your windscreen too.
If you drive, and indeed if you don’t but have eyes and have travelled in a motor vehicle of some description, then you’re probably aware of certain characteristics particular drivers exhibit.
The indicator denier
Often found on (but not exclusive to) motorways, usually in expensive German cars (not wanting to name brands but most culprits tend to drive a make that begins with B and rhymes with key-phlegm-wobble-through). By changing lanes or making turns without prior warning, this tireless community servant aims to ensure that other road users remain alert and on their toes at all times. We salute you.
Often found on (but not exclusive to) motorways, usually in expensive German cars (can you see a trend forming here?) or 4x4s. The usual trick is to come tearing up behind you like they’re being chased in an effort to scare you into moving out of the way. If that fails, they will flash their headlights in the vain hope that they will induce an epileptic fit which will cause you to lose control of your vehicle and free up the lane. Just let them have their fun, it’s probably the only time they ever get to exert their masculinity.
Quick question: If you owned a shitty little car (a Saxo or Corsa, for instance) and had saved up a couple of grand to jazz it up, what would you buy?
If you answered ‘a better car‘, then congratulations, you’re not a boy-racer.
If you answered ‘seventeen inch rims, a plastic body kit, a massive spoiler and a huge sound system‘, then I’m afraid you are destined for a life of sitting in car parks at night, boring motor-talk and hairdresser girlfriends. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course…)
For this driver, arrival at their destination is usually due to luck rather than skill or competence. Like The indicator denier, this person drives on faith rather than eyesight and judgement, relying on the perception and reaction time of other road users in order to get to places.
You could say that their driving style is aggressive with a touch of ‘fuck it’.
This lot often come from deeply religious backgrounds or are the children of clergyman.
During Fresher’s Week they will discover the delights of sex, drink, drugs and partying. For the rest of their degree they will attempt to:
a) shag their way through as much of the student population as possible.
b) snort or smoke (or snort and smoke) their way through every substance they can get hold of.
c) party to the point of hospitalisation.
d) all of the above.
Throughout your degree, mentioning this person’s name will receive a chorus of ‘How have they not been kicked off the course yet?!’ Continue reading →
It doesn’t matter which university you attend (at the moment anyway- it could all change once the fees increase), you will ALWAYS meet at least one person that falls into the following groups:
The cultured ones
It could be that they quote Nietzsche at every opportunity. Maybe they boast about not owning a television. Or perhaps it’s their continual insistence that they are deep and spiritual because they’ve been travelling. It could even be the way they believe that lectures and seminars are actually just a conversation between them and the lecturer…
However they do it, just know that they are better than you. That’s all they really want you to know anyway.
The parish elders
These are the extra mature students in the class. It is easy to mistake them for the lecturer when they walk in on the first day, such is the air of experience and sage wisdom that surrounds them.