Sex and the City is a real New York girl's nightmare

Walking through the streets of New York, you're spurred on by the surging waves of people and that there power in your step. You can feel that there is so much up for offer, so much mystery around the next corner and so much money dropped at the drop of a hat. The hungriest seize the winnings, the greedy do anything to grab the cash and the optimists lick life off their sticky fingers.
It is a city of everything and surprisingly a city which has been further defined by a TV show. A show which seems to validate ridiculous behaviours and attitudes.

A definition.
Sex and the City women aren't really like our famous 4 protagonists. No one here really dresses that well and real SATC women are older, dress in short skirts and low cut tops. They often frequent bars and clubs, when really, they shouldn't be because the people in the bars are much younger than they are. They believe they are power women, when really they should just have more taste.
Some people call them bag ladies because they always have designer label bags. I like that, but they are so moronic that SATC fits them better.

But, there is a new kettle of fish too. They are even more prominent than SATC wenches. MySpace Skanks and 'hos are very young girls with impeccable bodies but who reveal too much skin. They talk in that annoying way "So yeeahh, I was like, so totally into it", they are fucking brainless and update their mySpace pages every 4 minutes. They're eye candy to the point of disbelief, but tacky.

Almost polar opposites but equally as ridiculous as the other. The city seems to run rampant with these 2 species and then the rest of us sandwiched in the middle, try to avoid them at all costs.
The worst part is that the 2 kinds are promiscuous. Very promiscuous and give all women a bad name. I also find that these 2 have extrapolated story lines from a tv show and manufactured them into a way of life. These women have infected men to almost legitimise their whacked habits.
I'm not buying it. And I often find myself lamenting at the horror that my own life could become a sex and the city cliche. It's fucking awful.
I could bitch and moan about the stories, but that would be lame. Exposing the horror of disaster after disaster. I'm not going there.
Instead I think I'll manufacture some tshirts.