Men Who Are Perfect.

While some women are occasionally duped into believing certain “men” are perfect, there is, invariably no such thing, and some fatal, unspeakable flaw always lies beneath the surface. In Williamsburg, essentially the Stepford of Brooklyn (along with Park Slope, but for non-straight people), perfection is sought to be obtained through the ideal apartment overlooking the waterfront and the ideal non-mentally exerting job at a startup nearby.

Adonis does not exist, especially not in Williamsburg.

Adonis does not exist, especially not in Williamsburg.


“Men” who fool women into believing that they’re infallible on the physical and/or personality front always have something horrendous up their sleeve, like being obsessed with their parents or not eating pussy. If you find yourself across from a “man” over a candlelit dinner at an expensive restaurant like Zenkichi, run the fuck out of there because he’s probably a serial killer (but actually wait until the dinner’s over to take advantage of the perfectness of him paying for your food).

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Men Who Act Mad Into You But Then Forget Who You Are Five Seconds Later.

It is no great secret that the attention span of “men” rivals that of a coked up socialite, however, it is still consistently surprising when they seem to suffer from symptoms of amnesia in terms of acting mad into you one minute and then essentially forgetting who you are the next. Maybe it’s due to the premium on drug and alcohol use in Williamsburg (though this trend has sadly waned in the wake of the neighborhood’s parental takeover) or maybe there’s just too many women to keep track of who all sort of look the same with their brown or blonde or red hair. Whatever the reason, “men” should probably start keeping better track of who they’re hitting on if they want to go home successfully with another person.

It's like Will Smith done used the Neuraliyzer on every "man" in Williamsburg

It’s like Will Smith done used the Neuraliyzer on every “man” in Williamsburg


The key to not appearing like a disengaged, sociopathic lothario while in a bar and unable to remember who you just hit on is to leave the bar and start over again. Do not make the mistake of risking the repetition of the same pick-up line to the same woman. This will fail miserably, and she will tell everyone else with a vagina at the bar about it. Hedge your bets by flirting with people early on in the night while you’re still somewhat sober and your memory is intact. Or just don’t talk to anyone ever and pretend that you can only speak sign language. This might gain you the sympathy fuck and you won’t ever have to worry about trying to remember what specific women look like.

Men Who Don’t Know What A Trowel Is (Either By Name or By Sight).

If you’re a “man” who doesn’t know what a trowel is, then you’ve probably never used your hands for anything beyond masturbation. This basic construction tool not only represents Having a Dick 101, but it also helped build the condo you now live in, so you should probably show a modicum of respect by at least knowing its name.

At least someone had a big enough dick to build you apartment

At least someone had a big enough dick to build you apartment


Trowels can also be a handy go-to for substituting either your own dick or passing off to your lady of the moment to use as a strap-on/dildo situation. They also make a great murder weapon for the Patrick Batemans of Williamsburg or a great cheek slicer for those looking to emulate Heath Ledger as The Joker, which you’ll inevitably want to do if you keep living your life of dicklessness and materialism.

Men Who Scrawl Marginal Graffiti on the Williamsburg Bridge.

When you’re scampering down the Williamsburg Bridge, embracing how free you are because you have no dick between your legs, you’re liable to succumb to the temptations of spraying a little graffiti somewhere (since you clearly can’t spray semen anywhere). This irksome form of “self-expression” has resulted in such shitty tags as “JIMJOE,” “I ‘Star of David’ New York (which would be better if it was written as “I ‘Star of David’ Jew York”) and “Nite Owl.”

Whether man or woman, "Nite Owl" doesn't have a dick

Whether man or woman, “Nite Owl” doesn’t have a dick


It’s difficult to be certain why “men” feel the need to mark their territory in such a base manner–though marking territory in general is always a base act. The only logical reason, really, is that it’s the closest they can get to experiencing the feeling of an all-out, unbridled, purging splooge. Because when you don’t have a dick, there are few other ways to re-create the singular act of ejaculation.

Men Who Think That Because You’ve Engaged In Conversation With Them at The Bar That This Allows Them Free License to Follow You Into the Bathroom.

I don’t really know what it is that makes “men” assume a personal relationship with you just because you’ve allowed them to say a few sentences to you at the bar. Whatever the reason, the second you say something they deem “intimate” (a.k.a. simply acknowledging them with eye contact), they seem to think it’s perfectly acceptable to infer you’re down to fuck.

She ain't feelin' you, stop reading into politeness

She ain’t feelin’ you, stop reading into politeness


This desperate, visceral need to stick one’s nub into something wet is further made heinous when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom as a mode of escape and they interpret this to mean this is their cue to follow you into said facility. And because you’re in one of the three Williamsburg bars owned by the same people (the Lucky Dog/Skinny Dennis/Rocka Rolla trifecta), the lock is shitty enough to… penetrate. It is at this point that one can feel free to implement the techniques learned from that kickboxing class she took thanks to a Living Social deal her friend got (though this smacks of missing a clit and you should probably just go for a classic kick to the groin).

Men Who Flirt Gratuitously With Others Whilst They Have A Girlfriend.

Not only does gratuitous flirting with other bitches whilst you have a girlfriend show a sheer lack of respect for the woman you’ve managed to corral into 1) being with you and 2) putting up with your dicklessness, but it’s also just extremely hurtful. What is, after all, the point of having a girlfriend if you would prefer to lay on the charm thickly to others instead of her?

Williamsburg leaves a "man" with plenty of options for flirting

Williamsburg leaves a “man” with plenty of options for flirting


Perhaps to better edify you, we should go over what constitutes a flirtation. Here are some guidelines:
-Gazing overtly into another woman’s eyes, most likely imagining her without her clothes off
-Giggling annoyingly with another woman
-“Accidentally” brushing up against another woman
-Having dinner alone with another woman, particularly romantic foods such as oysters
Even Obama's missing a dick

Even Obama’s missing a dick


These are some key examples to avoid engaging in if you don’t want your girlfriend’s low self-image to plunge into the negative/promote her predilection for self-mutilation as a coping mechanism. Of course, “men” living in Williamsburg will try to maintain that there’s too many hot women in the area not to flirt with, but one has trouble sympathizing with your temptations when considering your girlfriend does not feel the same need to engage in coquetry with other “men.”
That's not your girlfriend

That’s not your girlfriend


While there are those “evolved,” “modern” types who maintain that a little healthy flirtation never hurt a relationship, it’s difficult to buy into as you watch the ever-enlarging wedge between you and your girlfriend further increase–mainly because, from a physical viewpoint, you’re standing too closely to some other broad. This is something to take into consideration when assessing the value of having your “ego” (read: lack of dick) stroked vs. the value of not completely shattering the ego of your girlfriend.

Men Who Begrudgingly Engage in Chivalry.

You would think there’s nothing worse than a “man” who refuses to engage in any form of chivalrous act, but alas, there is: The “man” who overtly engages in chivalry with a look of sheer reluctance and disgust in his eyes. You’ve seen it. The one who gets to the door of the Wythe entrance first, sees you approaching, rolls his eyes, quickly forces a smile and assures, “After you.”

No "man" can bear to hearken back to the Victorian-era custom of throwing his cape over a puddle so a woman can cross

No “man” can bear to hearken back to the Victorian-era custom of throwing his cape over a puddle so a woman can cross


Sure, women expect to enjoy their own independence, self-sufficiency and all that shit, but they don’t want the sort of “man” who exhibits a total lack of valiance to such an extent that it is telling of utter selfishness. It infers he’s probably not very generous toward the vag area either. So the next time you hesitantly pay for food at Extra Fancy or walk at the same pace as the woman you’re with regardless of how slow she’s moving because of her heels, just know that genuine chivalry is the mark of a truly dickful man.

Men Who Text With Question Mark Punctuation.

If you’re texting with a question mark, you’re screaming Tinder date. At best, OKCupid troller. “Do you want to get together?”, “Hello?”, “What’s up?” and “Nude pics?” are all the types of phrases that end with a question mark. Therefore, it is to be sure that if you’re texting anything that requires a question mark, you’re probably asking something utterly dickless. Though, in most cases, “men” don’t favor proper grammatical use at all as it involves too much effort and meticulousness, the question mark does make a surprising and frequent cameo with matters pertaining to sexual pursuit.

Stop asking questions, start making assumptions and assertions

Stop asking questions, start making assumptions and assertions


Even so-called pleasant questions like, “Wanna go to dinner?” smack of a “man” who doesn’t know what he wants and can’t offer any suggestions that are a worth damn. So if you want to improve your standing within the Williamsburg texting/sexting community, do yourself a favor and start using a period–at least as regularly as women have them.

Men Who Capitalize on a Woman’s Low Self-Image.

The “man” who recognizes when a woman is insecure about her appearance (as most women invariably are) and decides to capitalize on it by making her feel worse about her physical shortcomings represents one of the many pinnacles of missing a dick. Maybe because dalliances in Williamsburg require the tactical strategies of war, “men” feel inclined to exploit the common female weakness of aesthetic self-doubt.

You're liable to make a woman go crazy when you condemn her looks

You’re liable to make a woman go crazy when you condemn her looks

Regardless of this easy to take advantage of trait in women, the more dickful “man” would bolster his object of desire rather than tear her down to make her feel like he’s the only person she can attract. Like the “man” is the one doing her the favor by poking her for a few months and then casting her aside. But in fact, all that’s happening is the perpetuation of the male conspiracy (of which there are many) to make women feel like they can’t do any better, that they should settle for your dickless self because you’ve convinced them of their hideousness.

Men Who Book Hotel Rooms at The Wythe.

Perhaps when you’re a “man” trying to pull out all the stops for the mistress you’re trying to finagle, booking a room at The Wythe seems like the height of sophistication–a grand way to impress someone who hasn’t been around the Williamsburg block. And maybe, if your woman of choice is anything like you, she would be impressed by the custom made furniture and wallpaper or the lack of room service or the “locally sourced” mini bar.

That don't impress her much

That don’t impress her much

But if you’re trying to impress a woman who knows a “man” with a dick from one without, you’re going to have to do much better. The Wythe is for commoners aspiring to be nouveau riche, peppered with the occasional celebrity in an attempt to make it seems like it bears even a remote resemblance to the Chateau Marmont. If you really want to make a statement that says, “I care,” opt for the Ty Warner Penthouse at the Four Seasons.