Drew spent the better part of last year trying to learn the chipmunk part in “P.Y.T.” to little avail. Well, at least he knows about 72% of the Thriller dance.
Where as a child, Anatasia would cringe at the sound of Michael McDonald playing on the household stereo, she now views the velvety vocals of Mr. Blue-Eyed Soul as her only lifeline at the Sears Call Center she calls work.
It was when Rufus walked into the cafe and not only noticed that every single patron was wearing horn-rimmed glasses, but were also simultaneously bobbing their heads to “Dance Yrself Clean”, that he knew it was time to get out of Austin in order to maintain any ounce of his individuality.
Andy was so excited about picking up a copy of the new Bret Easton Ellis’ book, Imperial Bedrooms, that he neglected to think about the potential ramifications of showing up at the Barnes and Nobles on 5th Ave in his best blood-splattered Patrick Bateman costume.
It was while taking an honorary tote of amyl nitrite for The Hop that Kingston came up with the idea for the Blue Velvet-themed bar with twenty-five taps of only PBR and a giant sign that reads “Heineken? Fuck that shit!”
Wanting to maintain the appearance of a purist, Holden still carried around his Holga camera. Little did people know, he would peek his iPhone up over the viewfinder and snap a photo on his Hipstamatic app instead.
Olivia loved her fanny pack very much. Maybe even a little more than the cutie American Apparel employee who gave it to her on their third hook up.
Claire could not get over the irony of how many girls singing along to “Drunk Girls” at the LCD Soundsystem show were indeed drunk and would be waking up to no promises the next day.
Stunned that her boyfriend broke up with her to “devote more time” to his internship at Vice, Estelle got wasted and took to Twitter to voice her disgust- “Im a low level matriarch in the blogging world + have 1900 more fllwrs than u! How r u breaking up w/ me? No 1 even knew u had a blog b4, ass!”
After discovering that another blogger proclaimed herself to be the Liz Lemon of Portland, Oregon, Deidre felt obliged to start a reversed flame war to see who was the most self-deprecating.
