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Croton-on-Hudson, NY 

A small, tight-knit community in Northwest Westchester County, NY, population 7,606 (2000). The village was formerly an idealistic communist stronghold, but has since devolved into a hamlet of bourgeois consumers, driven by false needs. The families are quite diverse with about 10% being gainfully employed intellectuals, artists, architects, and musicians, 10% bankers and attorneys, 25% NYC cops, firefighters, and MTA workers, 35% unemployed, middle-aged writers, software geeks, and rich lesbians who lie to themselves about "working at home" or being "self-employed." About 20% are retired, just plain lazy, or various Latino minority working in the landscaping business. The architecture is somewhere between late 19th-century Northeast and 1950s trailerpark. The hodgepodge of styles is a visual abomination and only a catastrophe at the nearby Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant will save it. The village's main industry is parking, given the 2200-space lot at the MTA train station. The second largest industry is aluminum siding. The children of the village are all taught to love one another and sign meaningless pieces of paper pledging to "be nice" or to "not do drugs." However, they begin to smoke marijuana and drink Bud Light in the 8th grade. They love to hang out at Power Lines and generally waste their precious time. Sports are big in the area, with all manner of athletic diversion taking the place of academic achievment. Many youth pretend to be thugs, though they have no real knowledge of African-American culture other than what they glean from MTV Cribs and Chapelle's Show. No one in the village really gives much of a fuck about anything, which, according to most analysts, make it a dope place to live.
The reason I moved to Croton is because my husband can commute 45 minutes into the City, I can stay at home volunteering at the food bank, and we don't have to mow our lawn.
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Croton-on-Hudson, NY 

A small, tightly-knit community in Northwest Westchester County, NY, population 7,606 (2000). The village was formerly an idealistic communist stronghold, but has since devolved into a hamlet of bourgeois consumers, driven by false needs. The families are quite diverse with about 10% being gainfully employed intellectuals, artists, architects, and musicians, 10% bankers and attorneys, 25% NYC cops, firefighters, and MTA workers, 35% unemployed, middle-aged writers, software geeks, and rich lesbians who lie to themselves about "working at home" or being "self-employed." About 20% are retired, just plain lazy, or various Latino minority working in the landscaping business. The architecture is somewhere between late 19th-century Northeast farmhouse and 1950s Trailerpark, with the occasional horrible attempt at uniformity (e.g., the working-class dwellings on Beekman and the pretentious McMansions on Ackerman). The hodgepodge of styles is a visual abomination and only the much-expected catastrophe at the nearby Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant will unify the eclectic assortment. The village's main industry is parking, given the 2200-space lot at the MTA train station. The second largest industry is aluminum siding. The children of the village are all taught to love one another and sign meaningless pieces of paper pledging to "be nice" or to "not do drugs." However, they begin to smoke marijuana and drink Bud Light in the 8th grade. They love to hang out at Power Lines and generally waste their precious time. Sports are big in the area, with all manner of athletic diversion taking the place of academic achievement. Many youth pretend to be thugs, though they have no real knowledge of African-American culture other than what they glean from MTV Cribs and Chapelle's Show. No one in the village really gives much of a fuck about anything, which, according to most analysts, make it a dope place to live.
The reason I moved to Croton is because my husband can commute 45 minutes into the City, I can stay at home volunteering at the food bank, and we don't have to mow our lawn.

liquid lunch 

A lunchbreak comprised entirely of alcoholic beverages, and no food.
"With all the lay-offs that morning, it was rough. I hit the bar around the corner for a liquid lunch mid-day."
liquid lunch by Alexandra July 27, 2004
Word of the Day on June 21, 2026
Dunzo, a slang word for done/finshed. Made famous by the Laguna Beach cast.
This car is so dunzo. (Kristin's car breaks down.)
dunzo by Joey Pellet December 8, 2004
Word of the Day on June 20, 2026

ankle biter

Someone or something that bites your ankles.
To a postman, an ankle biter is often known as a dog.
To an adult, an ankle biter may be a toddler.
To hikers, an ankle biter is sometimes a tick.
And so on.
"Dang ankle biter took off my whole leg!!"
ankle biter by the sane maniac February 2, 2004
Word of the Day on June 19, 2026

Male Pattern Blindness 

When a man will search for hours to find something that is laying out in the open on a table. Items are often easily found by a women.
Man: "I have been searching for hours for keys."
Woman: "You mean the ones sitting there on the coffee table?"
Man: "Where?"
Woman: "Right there in the middle of that table."
Man: "oh, must have been Male Pattern Blindness"
Male Pattern Blindness by diablo581 February 10, 2008
Word of the Day on June 18, 2026

Pretty Privilege

A person who has more opportunities, and becomes more successful in life because of how attractive they are.
"Pretty privilege isn't a thing." "Yes it is have you seen GeorgeNotFound"

"GeorgeNotFound has so much pretty privilege its not fair!!!"
Word of the Day on June 17, 2026