There is a truism in New York City that you often hear repeated: city-dwellers are prettier in the summer than in the winter. We've seen the evidence in front of us here. Over the past few weeks, like daffodils springing up from the thawing earth, gorgeous women and hunky men have been appearing everywhere. Tentatively at first, in ones and twos, as if testing the waters... now they're out in droves, and everybody is very appreciative of this beautiful example of nature's bounty.
The explanation you usually hear is that it's simply a selection bias. Your eye is more drawn to the Pretty People, so of course they're the ones you notice. In the cold winter months these callipygian figures are all bundled up against the cold, hiding their assets from the world; as cherry blossoms come out, so do the booty shorts - oh, the booty shorts! - and tank tops, dragging our eyes and attention to the supple delights contained within.
This explanation is false.
What actually happens is far more elegant. You see, New York's population is actually entirely migratory. Overcrowding has been such an issue that six months out of the year, half of us city-dwellers are whisked away and relocated to a small city about an hour outside of Brisbane, Australia. It's a massive undertaking that's performed with the utmost professionalism and discretion by many thousands of volunteers and government workers. The Pretty People are sent off to spend summers in Oz and return to the States in April - in trickles at first, but quickly turning into a flood so intense you can't turn your head on Broadway without some selfish, nubile young thing leaving nothing to the imagination.
The uggoes get winters. Sorry, homely denizens... you need to keep that shit wrapped up.
My point, you ask? My point is, it's May, and here I am. Draw your own conclusions. Oi, eyes up here.
Hello sucker, we like your money just as well as anybody else's here
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