It's a Tuesday night in late July. New York City's bones feel hollow. Even the Internet is running dry. You tried Williamsburg, but the women all seem to be away, off somewhere you can't see, in bikinis. So what's a thirtysomething East Village man—one with an extremely specific urge involving star tattoos and chunky glasses and a playfully defiant glimpse of a tauntingly bare "female hipster" ass—supposed to do?
Reporting live from a helicopter above London's riot-ravaged streets today, a Sky News camera zoomed in on a man in a hooded anorak, who then turned around and broke some news of his own: His butt crack.