2005 Compilation of Pricks
Ah, what a year on this little blog. I've veered between insulting editorials examining certain aspects of American life, to insidious little digs at certain aspects of American life, from musings on politics and immigration, to haunting tales of life surviving and stripping in New York. But throughout I'm proud to have flagrantly pissed off a vast margin of my readership. Without the Mimi Hate Club, this blog would have been nothing. So here's my top ten list of Pricks-I-Have-Encountered and subsequently managed to annoy throughout the ten month course of my time in New York.
1. Fatties
Surprisingly zooming into number one with a last minute cry for attention in those usually faltering moments of the year - obese, overweight, lazy, slothlike, immense, cheeto-guzzling, hog-boar eating FATTIES! I'm not talking about you in the corner, with the extra 30 pounds or so, the guy with a little beer belly or that woman with the bingo arms (hey Stephanie!). I'm talking FAT, can't-get-out-of-bed, can't-find-clothes-to-fit-me, 10,000 calories a day insatiable Orca Whales. You are disgusting. I'm glad to have offended you into some form of animation.
2. Right Wing Christians
Oh the hate mail! From Bill O'Reilly, the minutemen threatening to hunt me down, to 'Red Stater', it's been laugh a minute with the anti-abortion, 'fuck all immigrants' contingent as they've repeatedly levied that pleading cry across the blogosphere: "Go home you ungrateful, un-American bitch". According to the RWC's, I can't have an opinion about American politics, racial issues or American culture merely because I worked as a stripper in a seedy Manhattan club minus a visa for six months. I am the lowest of the low. I bow to you, oh creationist theorizers, for your consistent and entertaining stupidity.
3. Strip-Club Managers
Slithering through clubs with their gum snapping arrogance, strip club managers have yet to make their presence felt in the comments section, but the fact they haven't has probably increased my life span by several decades, because I've written all about their drug dealing, sex abusing little ways, and it ain't pretty. No sirree.
4. Hipsters
Blessed be, for the era of cowboy boots, floaty dresses and Sienna Miller cuts hath passed, yet on the streets of New York there are still hipsters wearing these repulsive ensembles. Fashion Capital of the world I'll be damned. It's not postmodern and it's not ironic, and it's over. Let go Williamsburg, set the floaty rags free! Embrace J Crew and spurn Urban Outfitters! And while you're at it, burn your fucking guitars!
5. Hasidics
It's just not the same without my half-hour trek from the Subway through Little Poland at the dead of night, with beat up old cars drifting past, drawing slowly to a halt, before a bearded man or two would venture his face forth into the night to enquire - "How much for you-me?". Encouragingly, the number of teenage girls going missing from Little Poland only to reappear six months later, heavily pregnant by their Puerto-Rican boyfriend from the Bronx has increased. Newsflash: HASIDS MIXING WITH OTHER ETHNIC GROUPS!
6. Investment Bankers, Hedge Fund Pricks and other forms of The Corporation
"If I give you an extra twenty, can I stick my fingers up there?"
I have faith that one day there will be a time when IB's and Hedge-Funders will see the light, and realise that strippers are not the same as the blow-up doll in the fraternity house or Layla the escort on speed-dial, and stop trying to explore our orifices for the ubiquitous twenty bucks. One can only hope.
7. Strippers
Not all, but a few. Remember 'day girl' from the August comments section who declared that my feet were the most disgusting things she had ever seen in the dressing rooms of FlashDancers? Drunken Russian girl who tried to beat me up outside Rick's Cabaret? Oh the drama. Oh the bitchiness. Four weeks without conversations about anti-depressants and men with huge schlongs and I am pining, pining I tell you, for the six-inch clear plastic heels again.
8. Men I have dated
It's not that hard is it? A nice allowance, fancy restaurants, a basset hound, apartment? Do we really have to do this 'get to know each other' thing first? And what about the 'commitment phobe' issues? Get it together boys. I don't want marriage. I just want your money and nights at The Ganesvoort.
9. People without a sense of humoUr
Yes, Humour. It has come to my attention that the differences in spelling not only denote an inadequacy on the part of Americans to absorb the key essentials of English grammar and spelling, but are also indicative of a complete absence of sarcasm, irony and the ability to laugh at themselves in any way, shape or form. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but in general, it's safe to say that most Americans are lacking in this most essential attribute. In which case it makes wielding the light saber of sarcasm even more enjoyable, sadistic and rewarding. Europeans! Get over here! It's just so much FUN!
10. USCIS
You bastards! You took six long, hellish months to process a visa which should have taken six weeks! You SUCK! Sort it out, get rid of that immigration backlog! And while you're at it, fire this bitch.
1. Fatties
Surprisingly zooming into number one with a last minute cry for attention in those usually faltering moments of the year - obese, overweight, lazy, slothlike, immense, cheeto-guzzling, hog-boar eating FATTIES! I'm not talking about you in the corner, with the extra 30 pounds or so, the guy with a little beer belly or that woman with the bingo arms (hey Stephanie!). I'm talking FAT, can't-get-out-of-bed, can't-find-clothes-to-fit-me, 10,000 calories a day insatiable Orca Whales. You are disgusting. I'm glad to have offended you into some form of animation.
2. Right Wing Christians
Oh the hate mail! From Bill O'Reilly, the minutemen threatening to hunt me down, to 'Red Stater', it's been laugh a minute with the anti-abortion, 'fuck all immigrants' contingent as they've repeatedly levied that pleading cry across the blogosphere: "Go home you ungrateful, un-American bitch". According to the RWC's, I can't have an opinion about American politics, racial issues or American culture merely because I worked as a stripper in a seedy Manhattan club minus a visa for six months. I am the lowest of the low. I bow to you, oh creationist theorizers, for your consistent and entertaining stupidity.
3. Strip-Club Managers
Slithering through clubs with their gum snapping arrogance, strip club managers have yet to make their presence felt in the comments section, but the fact they haven't has probably increased my life span by several decades, because I've written all about their drug dealing, sex abusing little ways, and it ain't pretty. No sirree.
4. Hipsters
Blessed be, for the era of cowboy boots, floaty dresses and Sienna Miller cuts hath passed, yet on the streets of New York there are still hipsters wearing these repulsive ensembles. Fashion Capital of the world I'll be damned. It's not postmodern and it's not ironic, and it's over. Let go Williamsburg, set the floaty rags free! Embrace J Crew and spurn Urban Outfitters! And while you're at it, burn your fucking guitars!
5. Hasidics
It's just not the same without my half-hour trek from the Subway through Little Poland at the dead of night, with beat up old cars drifting past, drawing slowly to a halt, before a bearded man or two would venture his face forth into the night to enquire - "How much for you-me?". Encouragingly, the number of teenage girls going missing from Little Poland only to reappear six months later, heavily pregnant by their Puerto-Rican boyfriend from the Bronx has increased. Newsflash: HASIDS MIXING WITH OTHER ETHNIC GROUPS!
6. Investment Bankers, Hedge Fund Pricks and other forms of The Corporation
"If I give you an extra twenty, can I stick my fingers up there?"
I have faith that one day there will be a time when IB's and Hedge-Funders will see the light, and realise that strippers are not the same as the blow-up doll in the fraternity house or Layla the escort on speed-dial, and stop trying to explore our orifices for the ubiquitous twenty bucks. One can only hope.
7. Strippers
Not all, but a few. Remember 'day girl' from the August comments section who declared that my feet were the most disgusting things she had ever seen in the dressing rooms of FlashDancers? Drunken Russian girl who tried to beat me up outside Rick's Cabaret? Oh the drama. Oh the bitchiness. Four weeks without conversations about anti-depressants and men with huge schlongs and I am pining, pining I tell you, for the six-inch clear plastic heels again.
8. Men I have dated
It's not that hard is it? A nice allowance, fancy restaurants, a basset hound, apartment? Do we really have to do this 'get to know each other' thing first? And what about the 'commitment phobe' issues? Get it together boys. I don't want marriage. I just want your money and nights at The Ganesvoort.
9. People without a sense of humoUr
Yes, Humour. It has come to my attention that the differences in spelling not only denote an inadequacy on the part of Americans to absorb the key essentials of English grammar and spelling, but are also indicative of a complete absence of sarcasm, irony and the ability to laugh at themselves in any way, shape or form. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but in general, it's safe to say that most Americans are lacking in this most essential attribute. In which case it makes wielding the light saber of sarcasm even more enjoyable, sadistic and rewarding. Europeans! Get over here! It's just so much FUN!
10. USCIS
You bastards! You took six long, hellish months to process a visa which should have taken six weeks! You SUCK! Sort it out, get rid of that immigration backlog! And while you're at it, fire this bitch.
MIMI IN NY | 9:18 PM |
