The survey was about the people not the city, no?
Philadelphia is the ugliest. Dwayne, waddya make of that?
.................
Let's turn to the helpful GAWKER thread:
<http://gawker.com/news/looks/is-philadelphia-really-the-ugliest-314181.php>
There we learn that dissatisfied twenty-somethings (I'm guessing they're twenty-somethings because of the confident pronouncments, a burden of the young) left ancient Philly town for Seattle or LA or NYC. In these shining places, our American Xanadus (have you seen HBO's "Entourage"? - life outside of Phila is just like that - always!), they found love, excitement, after-hours clubs and people more attractive than their pudgy relatives. Verdict: ancient Philly town, I renounce you!
Fun fact number one: in the GAWKER thread, the word "cheesesteak" is employed at least six times as a sociological tool!
Here's an exciting example from a comentarista stylishly named "shag_carpet_bomb":
I grew up in Philly, lived in SF for 14 years and have re-located to Seattle. When I took my LA raised husband back to Philly to meet the family, he was sort of shocked at how fat and ugly the general population was. It's the diet of Yeungling and cheesesteaks, long cold winters and maybe the water. The accent will negate any physical attractiveness that a Philadelphian might eke out. SF has some beautiful people, I give most of the credit to the weather, and the abundance of great hair dressers and good shopping. As for Seattle, we live in the burbs on the east side, and there's more plastic here than anyplace north of Santa Barbara.
[...]
Get it? Everyone's fat! And ugly! It's the cheesesteaks! Maybe the water too! That's social science baby! Exclamation marks are fun!!
...
Another Story, this one involving comparative stripper metrics, the only kind of metrics that count.
The scene: LOS ANGELES
My drunken friend, a British expat living in LA, flies a St. George's cross flag on the porch of his Spanish colonial style home. The modest house sits on a hill overlooking a tree blanketed valley. Almost every year, the valley bursts into flame as nature steps up her war against talking monkeys. He picks up the phone and calls me. "Sure" he says, "the talent in the Philly clubs is nice if you like that sort of thing but you have to see and feel the quality of 'meetings' LA offers."
I'm skeptical by nature; how can this be? More attractive than the lovely Destiny or the mysterious Candy? And yet, he's a proven truth teller: attention must be paid.
"Listen mate, you've got to come out this way and see for yourself." Oh, but that means flying and I hate to fly, nasty TSA creatures skulk about, snarling contradictory orders as saliva drips from between their yellowing teeth. They confiscate PSPs and iPhones for they know not what they do. They pour shampoo into trash bins for they hate the papaya scent, which reminds them, as everything does, of C4.
But I go.
Of course he's right; the women are astoundingly beautiful. But not prettier, really, just more technologically advanced.
.d.