You know one, you've definitely seen one around... in fact you probably are one.

Sydney is a melting pot of individuals from all walks of life. So it should come as no surprise when some of those individuals end up being absolute tossers. Here are eight types of flog you will only find in Sydney.

1. The 'Waleed Aly' Flog

This flog thinks a steady diet of Vice, Huffington Post, Q & A, The Hack, and pedestrian makes them a woke moral compass. Nothing gives this unit a bigger stiffy than getting behind an issue no one was really contesting. Anything to hear their own voice. 

Nothing except a global tragedy which fully licences them to enlighten us sheeple with more opinions no one really asked for. Quick, get that filter on your display picture, or else people will think you're on the side of the terrorists! Most of this flog's interactions with the public comprise of social media essays on hot topic issues such as US gun control, plastic bags, supporting local milk, and who can forget the thoughts+prayers.  

Bonus: they just discovered The Young Turks' YouTube channel.

2. The '#Hustle' Flog

This flog watched The Wolf of Wall Street one too many times, and thus equates being a finance graduate to that of someone with far greater importance. When they aren't Snapchatting the fact that they are #hustling, or boring their quickly diminishing social circles with 'crazy' work stories delivered with condescending undertones, their day is mostly filled by answering the phone, fetching coffee, and getting yelled at for getting the wrong coffee... again. 

Bonus: Gary Vaynerchuk is life.

3. The 'Alternative Health' Flog

This flog is to real healthcare professionals as Barnaby Joyce is to honest, family loving, Aussie blokes. Vaguely adjacent. 

Modern science be damned, this season is about all salt diets and tummy teas. Want to lose weight? Just stop eating all together, dummy! What's the matter, cancer got you down? Cancer's only real if you believe in it, moron. Also, have you heard about this Amazonian vine leaf that cleanses all the diabetes cells from your bloodstream? Quick, before Big Pharma hears about it! Wow! 

The reason your life sucks isn't because you haven't sold off your dignity, intellect, and Instagram account (which totally hasn't been inflated with bought followers). No! It's because you're ugly, and ugly people don't deserve anything. But they don't have to be ugly, with this here easy 12 week plan. Amazing!

Bonus: their "Earthing" technique is apparently a great method to countering their bulimia tea's laxative effects.

4. The 'Bondi' Flog

This flog believes that "the junners" [sic.] is the centre of human civilisation. Who needs to circumnavigate the globe when you can do a shirtless run to Bronte? But careful, let's not go too far down South. You wouldn't want to interact with anyone from Mascot, now, would you? Or, God forbid, Brighton. When this eligible young single isn't flashing daddy's black card at Pelicano or The Sheaf (Shwednesdays go off, aye), you can find them hunting the prime parking spot for their SLK around the USYD campus, or nose diving into some Colombian snow with the boys, mourning the Rugby career that could have been if it weren't for that knee injury in Year 10. 

Bonus: don't mind the chapped lips, it's just from constantly biting them to stop from blurting, "My father could buy your father."

5. The 'Melbourne's Better' Flog

This flog flew to Melbourne for a long weekend on a $80 Jetstar ticket once upon a time, and instantly became a leading cultural authority. Oh, is that latte good? Not as good as the ones in Melbourne.

It's a nice day today, isn't it? Maybe, but it's a perfect day in Melbourne, it always is. Wow, I'm feeling happy today. Well that's because you don't know any better. No one can be happy unless they're in Melbourne. And they would totally make the move, but it's just a bad time right now, what with work and a mate's birthday coming up... totally in the future though.

Bonus: don't get them started on the public transport!

6. The 'What-Race-Is-Islam?' Flog

This flog has cracked the common accusation of racism by asking the $4.50 question: indeed, where does Islam fall within the taxonomy of world races? Crisis averted. What would people think of their "Fuck off, we're full" bumper sticker slapped across the back tray of their ute? And what of the unabashed expressions of disgust when a hijab appears? All clear now. 

This flog likes to go on about how "Sydneey [sic.] has gon [sic.] to shit" because of migrants, when they live on the outer, outer rim of what is still technically Sydney. An outer, outer rim where the population is almost completely white sans a single Maori fellow, and calling that unwiped asshole of NSW a town is being wildly generous.

Bonus: favourite pastimes include sitting on public transport to eye down "ethnics" and making other white people uncomfortable by supposedly speaking on their behalf.

7. The 'Fit Mummy' Flog

The #FitMummy flog's dreams of being the next Kylie Jenner/Jen Selter were dashed when she let a guy named Derrick empty the clip in her. Now, she spends her days stuck with a baby named something fucked like Kyle spelt Kyal, Shontell (Chantelle), Meshell (Michelle), or Heaven. But that won't stop them from being Insta famous. They put too much work what with all the work out pics and thirst traps pre-pregnancy. 

All that needs to happen is a simple rebrand. The #FitMummy flog will from this day forward be the champion of ridiculous all-natural diets and the like which most people can't afford, as well as spouting alternative medicine propaganda as if they didn't fail high school biology. 

Bonus: it's still a mystery why she lost all those male followers between the ages of 15 to 30 after she posted the first baby photo. 

8. The 'Boss Hunting' Flog

This flog is a smarmy prick that thinks they can pass judgement on others just because they write for a leading male lifestyle publication. They're nothing but a graduate of a shitty arts degree from an equally smug university, writing uninspired listicles to make the weekly quota. Plus they probably cry at that one episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air on the regular. Just utterly pathetic.

Bonus: It's me, I'm talking about me, guys.

Related: This P*ss-take of Sydney's Eastern Suburbs Is The Funniest Thing You'll See All Week