My mother called me a slacker. My little sister called me a waste. Numerous friends and acquaintances threatened me with bodily harm.
All because there was no post yesterday. I apologize readers, it won't happen again. I know many of you were upset...but look on the bright side, I just saved a ton of money on my car insurance!

Last night I won a freestyle rap battle. I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes... it was against a white, Jewish kid. But hey, a win's a win. This has nothing to do with today's topic, but I'm proud of my drunken ability to spit hot fire dammit and I wanted to share. Okay, enough with the self adulation, on to the blogging.

I got a lot of great comments and feedback from my Spitting Contests post. I actually had girls come up to me to tell me how accurate it was (they also told me that blogging is sexy and a huge turn on). I even had guys come up to me to tell me which "character," they are. This one guy came up to me at the bar, put his hand on my shoulder, and his mouth uncomfortably close to my ear and went "Dude, I'm a close talker!" Yeah, man. No shit.

The one thing readers did say was that it's not fair that I called out guys at the bar and didn't write a post calling out the girls. Well, here at the Sky Is Falling it's all about the readers (and the Benjamins). So, last night I went back to Santa Fe, the bar where I did my initial "research" into guys at the bar, to take a look at the fairer sex (so they claim). On a normal night there are your typical, normal college girls. Some good looking. Some horrible looking. Those aren't the girls I was interested in. As with the guys in Spitting Contests , I was looking for the "characters." These are my findings:

The Dancer
The Dancer's hasn't left the dance floor for 16 straight songs. You know the girl I'm talking about. From the looks of it, she's been dancing since she was three. She's pulling moves that make your head hurt trying to figure out just how she got her body to do that. Truth be told, she doesn't even have to be that good looking (ie: she could be a 2 bigmac-er), her milkshake is still gonna bring all the boys to the bar. This girl doesn't need a protective gaggle of other girls (see: The Forcefield and The Grenade) to keep guys from trying to hit on her, chances are any guy that tries to keep up is going to give up after 30 seconds and walk away dizzy with a case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The Drama Queen
The Drama Queen is crying. Again. Why? Because that's what Drama Queens do. The Drama Queen loves the attention. She'll cry over anything and everything: "My friends from home are better than my friends school...I feel fat... The sky is blue!". It doesn't matter that she's in public and people are staring. It doesn't matter that everyone else around her is having a good time, enjoying themselves. Asking a Drama Queen to go out without crying is like asking a Bottom Feeder to go out and hit on a hot girl. It's a completely foreign concept to them. You can usually spot these girls by their red, puffy eyes and bundled up tissues.

The Grenade
Ever hear the phrase "jumping on the grenade?" Well, meet The Grenade. It's like this: your buddy wants to go over and hit on a cute girl, but her friend the Grenade (who is inevitably less attractive and in the right light could pass for a boy) is permanently attached to her side. She's smart. The Grenade knows that guys are going to want to hit on her better looking friend (who she knows currently looks even hotter by comparison) and she is going to use that to her advantage. She's not going to let her hot friend get hit on by any guy who doesn't bring a guy for her also. Some poor sap who has to "jump on The Grenade." The Grenade is one of two reasons the Wingman was invented.

The Fish
The Fish is usually a cute girl and can typically be found by the bar. She's waiting, empty handed, biding her time until some guy strolls up and offers to buy her a drink. Poor guy. He has no idea what he's in for. He's thinking maybe a vodka and tonic. She's thinking maybe a few Mind Erasers. Despite her outward appearances, The Fish isn't interested in meeting a guy (well...other than Jose, Johnny, Jack and Jim). She's interested in drinking and having some guy foot the bill. She gets away with it by flirting with the guy the whole night, paying just enough attention to him that he thinks he's got a chance, all the while boozing it up (it's like playing $5 blackjack just to get the free drinks). Many a friend of mine have woken up to an empty wallet thanks to The Fish.

The Giants' Middle Linebacker
This one is for Shappy. There's no explanation necessary. If you know what I'm talking about, you're probably already laughing.

The Forcefield
The Forcefield is the other reason the Wingman was invented. The Forcefield is very similar to The Grenade, except for one vital difference: she isn't cock blocking guys because she wants to pull their friends, she's just doing it because she's a bitch. The Forcefield is of the mentality that "we all came together, we're all going home together." Most girls don't go out to the bar without at least one Forcefield in their group to act as bouncer and turn away all guys who might think of hitting on one of her friends. She is the arch nemesis of The Sniper.

The Stage 5 Clinger
God help the guy who accidentally bumps into a Stage 5 Clinger on his way to the bathroom, he might as well go out and book the reception hall that very night. The Stage-5 Clinger is desparate for a relationship and will latch onto any guy who gives her the time of day. Within 5 minutes of meeting The Stage 5 Clinger, she knows your phone number, email address, screen name, Blackberry pin, favorite movies of the 1990s and blood type. By the time you leave the bar, she's already made a scrapbook detailing her favorite moments with you. A Stage 5 Clinger is like herpes, once you've got it, you've got it for life (Stage 5 Clingers can not be killed by conventional means. They can, however, be killed by a wooden stake driven directly through the heart).

Sorry female readers. I couldn't let you guys get off the hook that easily. I had to call you guys out too. So to all my male readers, I hope this is as accurate a portrayal of the females at the bar, as the female readers say my post about all of you is. I'm off to go practice my rhyming skills in case someone tries to challenge me for my title tonight.

-Adam