The Upper East Side is a familiar place to those who call it home, or others looking for a quaint and yet cozy place to relax, share good stories, drink cold beverages with friends.

To others, and I refer to these others as destroyers, mainly because they fit quite perfectly into the word “destruction” without too much modification. To these others, this is a very different place. Embark with me, my friends, on this wonderful tale of excitement, complaints, and glory. (Yes, glory!)

This destruction isn’t necessarily of the physical kind (although some physical destruction make take place) as it would be too boorish to use the term so bluntly.

These Destroyers take the night into hand and romp throughout the Upper East Side of Manhattan, grasping it within their clutches. Through what appears to be broken robotics, these mindless clones groove and move to the popular hip hop and rap beats of a year that has come to pass; And moved on with a fury, as much of the rap industry does. These pieces of music, way beyond abandoned, have become such… for a reason. A very good reason. This point is moot, however, so I digress.

These Destroyer Clones, move in an Attention Deficit Disordered fashion, as music pumps from beat to beat, sound to sound.

If I were to lie and claim that these actions were harmonious, I would be a complete douchebag. So, I will not. This is utterly disgusting. This so called “dancing” that takes place.

Clones, because they have no mind, usually imitate and mock others, with the hopes of achieving some form of sexual greatness, so overbearing that it will conquer every form of the opposite sex within a 5 mile proximity. Or this is how it appears. It is far, far, from the case. I will go ahead and quote one of the greatest television moments of all time, because I feel that it applies to the form of dance observed in this situation. (From Seinfeld)

Jerry: You saw her dance?
George: It wasn’t dancing, It’s more like a full body dry heave set to music.

Now, I am not in the right place to mock such a beer-filled event, as I myself am not a good dancer. I am not reserved the right to mock others, without dousing myself in hypocrisy. However, for the sake of explanations, I will continue to do so. (Now to the fun and blunt, me being a jerk part)

These idiots could not dance, and it reminded me of that scene from Star Wars, when the Imperial Walker was taken down by the Jedi’s, only in this case, just one leg was tied down, and the Imperial Walker was attempting to do the shuffle, with it’s hands raised. I saw more fist pumping shoulder-less motion than I have ever witnessed in my entire life. EVER.

Let me re-state this with more conviction.

I have spent more nights at Jersey bars with “Guido’s in tank tops,” and the Upper East Side… The Upper East Side… contains more god damned popped collar, khaki Yankee hat, stiff-legged, fist pumping action than that.

It were almost as if Satan reached into his own rectum, pulled out a fistful of bacteria, slammed in onto the table and said “Bar keep, another round for me and my stiff legged friends!”

Shocked? Probably not, unless of course you frequent the Lower East Side.

Okay, I am cutting this entry short, as my head is beginning to pound. It’s 4:20 AM (Har Har, drug joke, good one dip-shit) and I am in dire need of sleep and water. Look for more later on, with pictures scattered throughout.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 11th, 2007 at 4:05 am and is filed under People, Ramblings, WHAT THE CHRIST. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.