by Crör March 10, 2010
Generally, a government employee or environmental consultant who has no practical field skills or an understanding of ecology.
Unable to navigate in the bush without the aid of a touch screen device. Turn up into the field dressed in completely new clothes, almost always in khaki and predominately featuring an outdoors store latest season catalogue. Various digital accoutrements hang off their belt to help with managing the wilderness. Prone to printing off a small woodlands worth of paperwork with every page colour coded, labelled and compartmentalised in corresponding coloured manilla folders. Cannot change a tyre.
Spend the majority of their time in the office obsessing of minor inconsequential details which will be overlooked by the client. Readily plot survey points on a map with scant regard for topography, vegetation density or difficulty of access for which they will then send out contractors to complete the actual work. Dislike meetings but will tolerate them for the tiny catered sandwiches during mid-morning tea. Drink soy lattes.
Have the fitness of a wounded gazelle. Consider light wind a significant hazard and will accordingly cancel the days work. Accustomed to hefty meal allowances of which most will be spent on sourdough and chia seeds. Don’t like spiders or things getting in their hair. Find fieldwork emotionally and physically traumatising despite their Instagram hashtags indicating otherwise.
Readily identify as an ‘ecologist’ in their email signature.
Unable to navigate in the bush without the aid of a touch screen device. Turn up into the field dressed in completely new clothes, almost always in khaki and predominately featuring an outdoors store latest season catalogue. Various digital accoutrements hang off their belt to help with managing the wilderness. Prone to printing off a small woodlands worth of paperwork with every page colour coded, labelled and compartmentalised in corresponding coloured manilla folders. Cannot change a tyre.
Spend the majority of their time in the office obsessing of minor inconsequential details which will be overlooked by the client. Readily plot survey points on a map with scant regard for topography, vegetation density or difficulty of access for which they will then send out contractors to complete the actual work. Dislike meetings but will tolerate them for the tiny catered sandwiches during mid-morning tea. Drink soy lattes.
Have the fitness of a wounded gazelle. Consider light wind a significant hazard and will accordingly cancel the days work. Accustomed to hefty meal allowances of which most will be spent on sourdough and chia seeds. Don’t like spiders or things getting in their hair. Find fieldwork emotionally and physically traumatising despite their Instagram hashtags indicating otherwise.
Readily identify as an ‘ecologist’ in their email signature.
Standing at the precipice of a volcano looking down into a cauldron of boiling, angry lava.
Ecologist 1: Who put the site down there?
Ecologist 2: A fucking café ecologist.
Ecologist 1: Who put the site down there?
Ecologist 2: A fucking café ecologist.
by The Angry Biologist October 17, 2019
Large jungle-themed restaurant owned by the Landry's Corporation. Typically falls just short of pimping out its employees in its never-ending quest to squeeze every last goddamn dime out of customers. Often mistakes the criteria for what makes a rainforest animal (note: Kodiak Grizzlies do not live in the rainforest) and what constitutes an appropriate rainforest soundtrack (note: nix the jazz flute and the country rock ballads). Management handpicks leering hispanic men and manic fucktard douchebags to round out the staff. Don't snap on the retail girls because you don't understand the dynamics of capitalism.
Man: Wtf there is a petite mexican man inside that 6' tree frog costume. Why is he bipedal, why does he stink of febreze.
Woman: Why, that's Cha Cha! The Rainforest Café's lovable mascot here to lift your spirits and enliven your child's day.
Man: I've decided to go batshit insane on the next person to take my picture for $5.99 or offer me membership to their Safari Club program.
Woman: Why is it so loud in here? The foliage overhead is extremely dusty. Are those fish real? Those uniforms are fugly.
Woman: Why, that's Cha Cha! The Rainforest Café's lovable mascot here to lift your spirits and enliven your child's day.
Man: I've decided to go batshit insane on the next person to take my picture for $5.99 or offer me membership to their Safari Club program.
Woman: Why is it so loud in here? The foliage overhead is extremely dusty. Are those fish real? Those uniforms are fugly.
by Tuki March 24, 2008
by Blahblahbinny September 20, 2015
A group of crackhead from Wattpad. They worship the goddess Jiji.
Alternatively titled: Jinsung's Harem.
Alternatively titled: Jinsung's Harem.
by ppsithurisms January 4, 2020
Any sports-oriented motorcycle modified with the intent of reducing weigh and increasing performance and improving handling. The term originally emerged in 1960s Britain to define the stripped and modified motorcycles ridden by the counter-culture 'Rockers', who would ride these 'café racers' along predetermined routes at high speed against the clock. Legend has it that a song would be played on the café jukebox, and the rider would have to complete the route and return before the end of the song. Many did not return at all. Original cafe racers of the Rocker era were largely based on Triumphs, BSAs, Velocettes, Nortons, Vincents, Moto-Guzzis and Ducatis - or amalgamations of multiple bikes, like Tritons and Norvins.
A café racer can also be a true-grit sport bike rider who rides hard and fast on the street. As defined by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson:
"A thoroughbred Cafe Racer will ride all night through a fog storm in freeway traffic to put himself into what somebody told him was the ugliest and tightest decreasing-radius turn since Genghis Khan invented the corkscrew.
Cafe Racing is mainly a matter of taste. It is an atavistic mentality, a peculiar mix of low style, high speed, pure dumbness, and overweening commitment to the Cafe Life and all its dangerous pleasures... I am a Cafe Racer myself, on some days - and it is one of my finest addictions." (Excerpt from "Song of the Sausage Creature")
A café racer can also be a true-grit sport bike rider who rides hard and fast on the street. As defined by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson:
"A thoroughbred Cafe Racer will ride all night through a fog storm in freeway traffic to put himself into what somebody told him was the ugliest and tightest decreasing-radius turn since Genghis Khan invented the corkscrew.
Cafe Racing is mainly a matter of taste. It is an atavistic mentality, a peculiar mix of low style, high speed, pure dumbness, and overweening commitment to the Cafe Life and all its dangerous pleasures... I am a Cafe Racer myself, on some days - and it is one of my finest addictions." (Excerpt from "Song of the Sausage Creature")
"I put some lumpy cams and clip ons on my Norton this week. It's a proper café racer now."
"He'd ride that bike ton-up all day through the canyons. He's a real café racer."
"He'd ride that bike ton-up all day through the canyons. He's a real café racer."
by BikerJC March 14, 2006
A motorcycle which has been modified to appear similar to a café racer, although shares few if any qualities of a legitimate café racer. This motorcycle will typically have lower handle bars, missing air box, and aftermarket muffler however will handle worse and have less power than if it were left stock.
That café crawler will only reach the ton if it goes off a cliff.
Your bike is not a café racer, it is a café crawler and you are in denial.
Your bike is not a café racer, it is a café crawler and you are in denial.
by MotoSurgeon October 6, 2011