Who's worse? It's hard to say.

No it isn't. It's really not. Above, you have Exhibit A, Frat Boys. Down below, Exhibit B, Punks.
The above Punks are what you'd probably call "Crusty Punks," even though we'll toss in these guys, Exhibit B 1/2, into the mix. A little less crusty, these Punks are something like a cross between a CBGB loving, power cord playing, skinny jean wearing, Rock and Roller, or something. A Ramoner, if you will.
So, even though we've got two subsets of "Punks," I'm gonna lump'em all in together.

The Fratty vs. the Punker.

I've had my fair share of run-ins with them both, and as someone who's gone to USC, been to business school, worked in a coffee shop, been to NBT, ridden a Tall Bike, and seen Widespread Panic, I feel like I've had adequate opportunities to make the call on who's the most loathsome.

Just recently I've been threatened with a beat down for riding my bike through Greek Village from the Fratties and almost had a party ruined, my iPod stolen, my nostrils irritated, and my appetite ruined by the Punks.

They're pretty similar groups, really. Lots of group mentality thinking, with a healthy dose of looking down on you, because of the you're-not-like-them feelings poured out. They both run in packs, whether it's tall bikes or SUVs. They make regular people feel uncomfortable when they show up. You wouldn't be surprised if either group tossed a brick through your window, whether you show up to the ATO house with a SigEp bumper sticker, or you tried to get a parking spot on State St.

So, while opposite ends of the spectrum, at first glance, their similarities make them about equally despicable.

We know all the cons of both. It's the 45 feelings that rush through your being when you spy'em out in public. I could go on all day listing why you should hate them. And you should. No matter what I say from here on out, let me state for a fact, that it is perfectly acceptable, and encouraged to hate them both, so don't forget that.

But let's list some of the pros. The good of each group. This will be a harder, and ultimately much shorter list to create.

I'll start with the frat guys. And remember, this is the group who just recently stood on the porch of their big frat house, asking my "gay ass" if I had "beef", and if my "fag self" wanted to "step up" and fight all twenty of them. This queer passed.

1. Croakies - For starters, this is sort of unfair because Punks don't really go outside and when they do, they're not really outside long enough to warrant shades, but my goodness, who doesn't appreciate the Croakie? I wouldn't recommend or wear them all the time, but when you're at the river, or outside all day, you gotta love'em.
2. Music - I'd much rather hear some DMB, Phish, Bob Seeger, even Panic over someone screaming about slaughtering lambs, making just the worst racket ever squeezed into a 1 minute and 34 second ditty.
3. Yes, their father got them the job, and it's a better job than yours, making more money, better parking spot, more vacation days, but Frat folks do hold down jobs and contribute to society.
4. If you ever have the pleasure of running into some Fratters that you actually like, out at a bar or something, you're more likely to have them buy you a drink than a punker, who is more likely to ask for a sip of yours and put a drink on your tab while you're taking a piss.
5. They smell like they've showered.
6. They wear clothes that sort of fit. Short shorts notwithstanding.

I'm sure there are more. (No I'm not.)

On to the Ramoner Crusty Punkies:

1. ::crickets chirping::

Seriously. I tried to think of something. But, you know, they're ugly as sin, smell like an armpit, don't have jobs, are white as sheets, play in the worst bands, don't tip, cause me to double-take and attempt to figure out if I'm looking at a guy or girl, have the worst facial adornments (plugs, steel, bone) all through their eyes, lips, and noses....and the hair! Holy smokes, what the eff are they thinking? Sort of mohawkish, Betty Page style, dreadlockly, shaved mullet amalgamations. The pits, man.

So you see, it's really not that hard of a choice. If both are hanging off a cliff, and you absolutely have to save one (in a best case scenario you could stomp both sets of hands), I think it's easy to see that you'd have to don some seersucker and help out the fratty in need. Because saving the punk, I mean, you might as jump off the cliff yourself.