Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Citizens of Seattle by Typology.
Seattle contains three types of people as far as I can tell. I've only been here for a few months so excuse me if I happen to miss a particular stereotype.
A. The Mountain Sexual - Climbing rucksack? Check. Nalgene water bottle attached to said rucksack? Check. Stretchy pants just in case you wanna bounce from your 11 'o clock meeting at corporate sucktown to pop off a 5.10 climb? Check. The Mountain Sexual is always prepared for an avalanche, an ice climb or a Widespread Panic show. That carabiner has a purpose, or so he thinks.
B. Corporate Pony Tails - Kudos to Janie Mo for coining this Seattle specific stereotype. The Corporate Pony Tail lurks amongst the riches at Microsoft, Amazon and Google. A wealthy gentleman with a kinship to crunching binary code, live Jethro Tull and campfires. With a Master's Degree in tow and feet secured firmly by socks and sandals, the "Corporate Pone" makes his way through life a little bit more freely than you do. He's also the first one to remind you of said fact. Don't let their crunchy appearance and holier than thou attitude fool you. The Corporate Pone owns acreage on Bainbridge Island, and rolls with a stable of 5 star prostitutes.
C. Matrix Nerds - Whoa dudes, the next time you speed walk by me a wearing a black trench coat, turtle neck and and futuristic specs, expect me to laugh loudly. I apologize for not taking your commitment to shitty techno music seriously. I'm sure you're in a hurry to return to your basement apartment to feed your six cats that you named after characters in the Necromancer. I hope you do drugs, otherwise you have no excuse.
Editors Note: Consider this a running theme, there are way too many weird fuckers in this town for me expose in one blog. Also, I hope to capture pictures of all of these "types" as they let their freak flags fly. Myers Briggs ain't got shit on the Superbeast. Recognize.
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2 comments:
'pop off a 5.10 climb?!' i'm dying over here! hahaha.
Why DO they speed walk everywhere? Dramatically throwing their trench coats back as they jay walk (cuz they're hardcore) and bob their head to the shitty euro-trash-techno blasting in their fucktardy mind. Well done, Brewer.
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