TO ALL OF YOU WHO WEAR YOU POLO SHIRT COLLARS UP:

First of all take your sunglasses off when you get in the subway. I'm sure the dim, mental-hospital style lighting in there is burning your very sensitive retinas but, please, just prop them up on your head between a couple of the gelled-to-perfection pieces of hair sticking up. Don't worry, you'll still look like you don't care about your hair (even though you do) or the rest of the world (because you don't).
Secondly, I officialy give you permission to quit perma-flexing. You don't need to prove anything to me (mainly because I'm not interested). I know you want to look "rough and tumble," I'm also quite sure that you're stronger than I. That said, I still get the feeling that If I was cornered into a situation where I had no choice, I could beat you in a fight. How? Either by sheer will and passion, or by giving your pre-worn Abercrombies an actual rip. Wouldn't your face be red if you show up to the collar-up meetings with jeans that are part calculated, manufactured tears and frays and part real life tears and frays. I also have the option of a supplying your noggen with a good noogie. Not only would this mildly iritate the skin on your head, but it's also going to flake off a good 8% of your gel. In short you would look like a real mess in front of your girlfriend that moonlights as a straw.
Which brings us to the third in our list. Please, for the love of clean and pressed underwear, will you get your girlfriend to at least have a snack every now and again. While being a size 0 must have it's benefits (ie. the ability to pack her and get free air fare) it seems that it would be legistically impossible. That means you can't even multiply her to make substance. No matter the equation you plug the amount of her mass into, the answer will always be zero. So on top of everything else she's just mathematically unsound. I realize that you've probably considered this subject from several angles. One very cruciel angle, however, that I don't think you have considered is that she is dieing. Yes, the thought of dating a big size 4 fatty is sobering, but on the plus side, when you pick her up you won't have to fake flex to get those arm vains standing out. You'll have to actually lift.
Next, I would rather you didn't try to make eye contact with me on your quest to find somebody else that wants to snicker at the homeless guy because he smells a little ripe and talks to the seat next to him. I've got better things to do than to nod heads back and forth with you in the knowledge that some poor guy you don't know has dirt on him, and is a little crazy. Just remember that if daddy ever cuts you off you could end up with the same stench.
Fourth and finally, unless you are Tom Cruise (pre-Scientology), Evil Knievel, Shazaam, Shakespeare, The Fonz, Myles Standish, A dog being kept from licking it's paws, Leberace, Biff of "Back to the Future", a priest, Dracula, or really really cold, PUT YOUR COLAR DOWN!
Thank You.