It's been a while since we brought out this series, but it's simple. The following faux pas are simply never ever kosher, Schlomo.
Skullies and Cardigans in the Summer
You look and most likely smell like a literal bag of douche that contains sour vaginal juices mixed with ten-day old cabbage water. I made myself throw up a little in my mouth with my own imagery on that one, so I feel your pain, reader.
But for real. It's 95 degrees outside, and humid. It's New York City. You'll have to get on the subway at some point where it's even hotter. What the hell are you trying to prove? You're hipper than everyone else? You're comfortable? Can't be. It's your style, it's your self-expression? Bullshit. You're trying to look like these fucking hipster-inspired sagging skinny jeans guys, who are douche bags to begin with. Hard and fast rule: if it's t-shirt weather, put that fucking knit hat away! The only people who have ever gotten away with this are Cali skater dudes in like San Diego, where the weather is perfect and maybe the worst that'll happen is some wind. So maybe it's not okay for them either. But it's definitely not okay in Harlem, Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, uptown, downtown or in my lady's chamber. Fuckin poser.
Often donned by some of the prior perpetrators, this cluster fuck of face-shielding over-combed hair sprawl does nothing but make anyone rocking it look 30-40% less masculine just by its presence. It's always some young white boy, usually suburban, who has yet to sprout any peach fuzz to indicate he will one day be a man. This obnoxious hair move sir, now makes you look like a lesbian: just like Justin Bieber. In five years we'll find out that he was never a boy but one of the girls living as a boy like Hilary Swank's character in Boys Dont Cry. Don't believe me? Check out the Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber website, here.
Bouncing on the Check
Not to be confused with bouncing a check, like writing a bad one. Although in that case sometimes shit just happens and maybe you'd rather go to Vegas than pay your rent. Hey, I'd understand if u you kept it real with me. But I digress.
I'm talking about going out to eat, realizing that your mouth bit off more than your wallet can chew, and fleeing in embarrassment. Maybe your punk ass shouldn't have played yourself. If you think you're on the fence, have JUST enough, then the rule is you DONT have enough, and should eat at home.
It's no one else's fault you did that, so why should the poor waiter now have to cover your check out of his measly one? I don't care if you gotta run home and scrounge up $11.27 in pennies to do it, but nigga you need to man up and pay what you owe, and next time you won't have that problem cuz you'll remember the time you had to produce over 1100 pennies in order to be a good citizen. Fuuuuuuck dat!
Spilling Your Life on Facebook / Twitter
See, to an extent we're all guilty of this one. Facebook and Google by themselves could shut all our worlds down if they wanted, we've already lost to the Matrix.
But you know who I'm talking about. You know that facebook friend you have whose status updates more than hourly, who comments on EVERYTHING, who is constantly tagging photos and posting YouTube videos. This person needs to play in the grass with the other neighborhood children: unless of course he/she isn't allowed to be that close.
I feel like one's online and real lives have an inverse relationship. The more active you are with one, the less active you are with the other. So this person who popped into your head is a sad lonely motherfucker, who everyone knows way too much about. I don't need to know about your shower, your workout, what you're watching on TV, your mood at this very moment, or your relationship troubles. And I sure as fuck don't care about your stupid half-assed philosophies on life inspired by stupid rappers. Asshole. More on this another day.
Any Tattoo Before 18
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the hard and fast rule is that anything you want planted on your body at age 15, you won't want to be there by the time you're 21. But somebody it was S-M-R-T to let you do it. They're the bigger dick, you have the bigger asshole cuz you're fucked. Stuck with it for life. Yo. You might still grow! You're bound to gain weight. Your Tweety Bird might turn into Big Bird if you ain't careful. And also, the younger you are the more likely you are to poorly locate your first tat, placing it somewhere it should go only if you've run out of room elsewhere. Ask Show Rocka, it's his rule. Gonna be real hard to land that corporate gig with "Real Nigga" on the back of your hand, or "Get Money" across your neck. Think about it.