Sludgebro
An adult male, 40 years or older, residing in the Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York, whose sartorial aesthetic suggests an interest in “heavy” music, while his personal presentation and hygiene demonstrate a lack of youth, health, or lucidity that would allow him to take part in more athletic forms of heavy metal (thrash metal or hardcore punk, for instance).
Sludgebros are often observed slowly plodding up Manhattan Avenue in an addled daze, imagining hypothetical scenarios in which they could bed the frontwoman from Kylesa, and reminiscing on the mid-oughts when their musical niche reached peak relevance to residents of adjacent Brooklyn neighborhoods. Discerning music fans note that sludgebros are most often seen wearing black metal band t-shirts, though their actual music tastes revolve around what are essentially stoner-blues jam bands (black metal music is generally too fast for sludgebros to be able to follow without getting lost in the rhythmic patterns). Despite their uniform appearance, sludgebros follow no unified moral or political code other than staunch opposition to their parents’ hopes and dreams.
Sludgebros are often observed slowly plodding up Manhattan Avenue in an addled daze, imagining hypothetical scenarios in which they could bed the frontwoman from Kylesa, and reminiscing on the mid-oughts when their musical niche reached peak relevance to residents of adjacent Brooklyn neighborhoods. Discerning music fans note that sludgebros are most often seen wearing black metal band t-shirts, though their actual music tastes revolve around what are essentially stoner-blues jam bands (black metal music is generally too fast for sludgebros to be able to follow without getting lost in the rhythmic patterns). Despite their uniform appearance, sludgebros follow no unified moral or political code other than staunch opposition to their parents’ hopes and dreams.
Look at this fucking sludgebro.
A sludgebro at Pencil Factory didn’t like that I was sitting next to him, so he started grilling me from behind his matted, greying locks and murmuring some whiney bullshit.
A sludgebro at Pencil Factory didn’t like that I was sitting next to him, so he started grilling me from behind his matted, greying locks and murmuring some whiney bullshit.