Ugly Farm

There's this new phone app that allows you to rank the hotness factor of the patrons at whatever bar you're at in the NYC. The app tallies everything up and alerts everyone running it to which bars and clubs are doing the best when it comes to drawing in the Betties and the Brads. It's like Maxim's Hot 100, but hour to hour.

Here are my thoughts. #1 - To me this ap is useless as I am most attracted to Ira Glass, then Kermit the Frog and then to other men with the ability to rock a skinny jean. Extra bonus points if they are wearing horn rimmed glasses. If they are clueless as to what to do with their arms and blush then apologize after telling you that they just finished watching a mini series on a dead president or reading everything Kafka ever wrote there's a good chance they're getting my number and a puppy.

No hottness app is going to deliver my idea of Hawt: a Buddy Holly app, maybe.

#2 - I am shocked at the willingness of people to use this app. Yes, maybe it gives you the cheap thrill of ranking people's attractiveness. I could see the sick allure of coming up with witty bits of harsh criticism. However, If I were into traditional hot, no way I would alert the fellow singles of Gotham that sexy was happening at my locale for the evening. Way to complicate the playing field.

OK, so last night my date showed me this app on his phone. We were sitting at Superfine in DUMBO and I was enjoying the 4th best pork chop of my life when he decided to tell me about it in detail. He took my piercing stare for interest instead of contempt and elaborated on the nitty gritty delving in to the complicated programming behind the app's engineering. This snooze fest aspect of the conversation alerted the nerd part of my brain, activating the neurons in my head that make binary code seem Keanu Reeves sexy. I was saved from walking out and leaving the pork chop there at the restaurant to prove a point. Small miracles.

I presented my thoughts as highlighted in this blog post. I also added this gem,
'IF YOU USE THAT APP DON'T TELL YOUR DATE YOU USE IT!!" To which he assured me of my "raven haired beauty' status. Barf. Describing anyone as raven-haired is a bit of a sour subject in my book, but then he couldn't know that, as the 'Dating Amber Alvarez' app has yet to hit the market.

THEN as if to rally for his innocence he offered this token. "Oh comeon, Amber, like you want to accidentally find yourself stuck for an evening anywhere that's suddenly, that's you know... The Ugly Farm? Neurons FIRE! Seeeee? I knew I was going to get something of merit from this evening!

I pulled a pen, asked our waitress for some napkins, wrote it down and drew a copyright symbol after it. Then I busied myself sketching pigs. Oh yeah, this farm's gone Fugly.