Seriously, why do you have to be a Dick? Chill the eff out, you beer-infused chatterbox. Not everyone's a Dick (nor does everyone have a dick), but major offenders tend to also be labeled "Bro," "Dude," & "Rich White Boy." You can spot a Dick by correctly identifying his muscle-revealing tee, over-processed physical features, bordering-on-the-racist and/or sexist comments, & poorly-timed jokes. If confronted by a Dick, turn & run in the other direction to avoid any asinine conversations re: "banging one's girlfriend," "manscaping one's pubes," or this season's leader board standings of Dick's sport of choice.
Seriously, why do you have to be a Wiener? Grow a pair, you virgin dweeb. Not everyone's a Wiener (nor does everyone have a wiener), but the major offenders tend to also be labeled "Painfully Awkward," "Indecisive," or "Upper East Siders." You can spot a Wiener by correctly identifying his ill-fitting hand-me-downs, khaki slacks, bumbling hand/eye coordination, & pushy Jewish wife/girlfriend. If confronted by a Wiener, there is no immediate threat to turn & run in the other direction because he'll undoubtedly have beaten you to the flee. If conversations regarding "finances," "video games," or "glasses" should arise, simply fashion some chest hair & show him who's boss. Strong bouts of assertion are unnecessary.