If you could take five minutes to scratch off the polythene surrounding your life, you would see that what you're doing isn't new, unique, individual, or exciting. It gives me a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach when I see a room full of people who spend £25 on a tshirt with "Working Class Hero" printed on it, Jeans that cost more than most peoples outfit, and a haircut that cost three times the amount of the mangled pair of boots I'm wearing. Dancing like a prick ironically doesn't make you funny, clever or cool. Ironically, it makes you a prick.

But what's worse is watching those people sing along to "common people". Modern "indie" music, at least in the UK, is possibly the biggest one finger salute to the working classes. Why buy an "iconoclastic" t-shirt saying "make love not missiles" from topman, when you could make one yourself? "Oh, but the design is so cool, look at the font! the A doesn't have a hole in it!" Yeah, but I can see a pretty big A-hole (That was clever and witty and not a lame pun in any way) wearing the goddamn shirt.

The prettiest girls at these kind of things are the ones who sit quietly and uncomfortably in the corner. Who only came along because their idiot friends wanted to, and dragged them with them. They're the most interesting as well. And don't dress or dance like they want the next guy with jeans so tight you can work out if he's circumsized or not to stick it in them.

Patrick Bateman is my hero.