There comes a time in every manboy's life where he must make the decision to forever live his life as a Jonas Brother look-a-like, or to grow up, eat a steak (or something!) and put away those childish things that made him not quite a boy, and yet not quite a man. In this fellow's case it may entail not shitting in your pants and walking around with your hands in your back pockets to cover up the "chocolate you sat in," or to stop stealing your dead grandfather's hats or little sister's jeans. These are all things a boy must do to cross over into manhood from the purgatory known as manboy-ism.
Chances of making it to Williamsburg: I think this one will end up on Staten Island; 0%.
PS. Do you work at the Tannery? If so, I really do fucking hate you.