Marketing to the hipster: Enough is enough

I’m pretty much speechless after seeing this. This was sent to me and is an ad displayed in the Atlantic Ave/Barclays Center subway station. I mean, at what fucking point will these costume wearing, attention-starved, identical and entitled homogenizing gentrifiers realize they’ve been pegged? That the game is over? That they can take off the costumes, go back to their cul-de-sacs and leave Brooklyn alone? That the world of advertising (or world in general) has them figured out and is now targeting them and/or ridiculing them? I swear – about half the TV commercials out there have some bearded, flannel wearing Terrence or Caleb in them!!!


You see, this bullshit insurance company knows the keywords to fool the typical Brooklyn-infesting, asparagus-shaped, 1/2 Pringle Man 1/2 Lumbersexual douche and also knows they are too old to be on Mommy and Daddy’s insurance plan (since they are between 25 and 45) and are currently either finger painting in their overpriced apartment or slinging lattes and don’t get insurance offered to them. My God, what a joke of the planet these motherfuckers have become – the only problem is that gentrification and rising rents are not a joke.


Shocker: Vegetables grown in NYC community gardens are toxic.

You don’t have to be a scientist to understand and expect vegetables to have toxic levels of lead and other chemicals in them when they are grown in gardens in one of the biggest and busiest cities in the world like NYC. Who do we have to thank for this? Who else? Hipsters. There are now city government programs that are growing, selling and feeding these toxic veggies to poorer residents in lower income area and it all started a few years back with some transplanted red bearded Haydens and Schwinn riding Mollys wanting to have a hobby as they spent a couple years on their Brooklyn playcations. This hobby got noticed by officials in the Bloomberg administration and became a sad reality.



There is a reason most of this country is farmland – let the REAL farmers do their jobs. If this city really wanted to help out it’s lower income families, it shouldn’t have wasted money on painting unused bike lanes, changing zoning laws and letting rents get out of control. Can you believe that there are hipsters who only a couple of years ago were planting kale on some Brooklyn roof tops and empty abandoned lots in Bushwick are now in some other “kewel and up & coming” city out there, spreading gentrification while their old hobby has today led to people eating toxic vegetables. What other complications can we expect in the future because of what hipsters are doing today?

Talent & No Talent

I bring to you another installment of “Talent & No Talent” where I compare an actual highly talented street performer to the worthless and talentless pathetic Matthew Silver. Matthew I know you are reading this so I ask you: Do you actually think everyone around you is incapable of love, joy, and laughter? Are you fucking stupid? Do you think ONLY YOU can help society? Do you really think YOU are the answer to something? Can you understand that the reason 99% of the people around you don’t want to stop to dance with you and laugh with you is because they have lives and things to do? Unlike you – a pseudo-zany fraud with unlimited free time. By now Matthew, you should have been noticed and signed for something big, but you haven’t been because you suck. Go back to suburbia and pump gas or flip burgers; you’ll be more useful that way you smelly motherfucking hipster piece of shit.



Mathematically Explained: Why do hipsters all look alike?

Have you ever wanted to just jump on an identical-looking, bearded, thick-frame glasses wearing, flannelled, fauxhemian hipster fuck and just pound his head in for trying to be some transplanted unique gift your city even though he looks exactly like 35,000 other beardos in that same zipcode? Well now you can simply get his email address and send him this link (although option #1 seems more deserving and a lot more fun):

Link: – The Mathematical Reason All Hipsters Look The Same.

According to Toubol’s findings, a group of interacting individuals that attempts to counter the majority ends up doing the same thing because there’s not enough time to forecast what everyone else is going to do to be “different.”

“We show a generic phase transition in the system: When hipsters are too slow in detecting the trends, they will keep making the same choices and therefore remain correlated as time goes by, while their trend evolves in time as a periodic function. This is true as long as the majority of the population is made of hipsters. Otherwise, hipsters will be, again, largely aligned, towards a constant direction which is imposed by the mainstream choices.”

zinestand zanyzanehonda canadian-bike-hipster wholefoodshipsters redbeard1 mastbros2 beardo1 mastbros cuppow-2 banjo2

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, I saw Conrad, Walker, Zane, Brent, Emerson, Xander, and Lipton waiting for the “art bus” to take their playcationing transplanted asses on a Monday afternoon Bushpointburg gallery tour. So I pulled up in a pink bus that said free soy tacos but was really a mobilized industrial meat grinder; as they boarded I ground and shredded them into local, cage-free, artisanal, sustainable hipster hamburger meat that I sold back to the local Ye Olde WB Mason moustached butcher of Upper Lower Mid Bushwick for $95.00 a pound. End of story.

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, I saw Ethan the 34 year old funemployed Culdesacian graffitiologist from Oregon writing his famous tag “KupKakez” on a side of a chicken slaughter house/soon-to-be-condo on a desolate kewel gritty industrial Bushwick street. So I picked up his javelin-shaped body and rifled him into the rotating blades of a news helicopter that was covering the scene of fire I started at the Mast Bros. gentrification chocolate factory. End of story.

I think we’ve hit rock bottom: Artisanal Ice

artisanal-iceIs this the end? The end of the hipster and the new beginning for normal people? I doubt it but its wishful thinking. One would think that when a couple of douchebag mother fucking hipsters decide to charge people extra for “artisanal” ice in their drinks, that we’ve hit rock bottom and things are sure to get better. May lightning strike these fucking cocksuckers.

Link: Washington City Paper – $1 extra for ice.

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, I saw Xander, the shish-kebab skewer-armed cupcakeologist from Wiscossota whose teeth I knocked out last week, heading to a “Bushwick-based” artisanal performance art dentist. So I put a “We moved to Bensonhurst” sign on the front door and when Xander arrived I duct taped him to the dentist chair and beat his bearded face with an aged and hardened sopressata. End of story.

A compilation of Brooklyn Handjobs given by the New York Times.

flea1Here’s an article that has compiled just about every time the New Yup Times has stroked Brooklyn’s cock. Before the hipsters and yupsters discovered Brooklyn, the NYT probably had not mentioned the borough since the Dodgers won the World Series in 1955. But now, with a blend of boring and predictable writers at the Times with ties to hip/yup Nieuw Breuckelen, and an endless supply of beardos, faux foodies and overnight artists, they have plenty to write about. And these are just articles that compare other places to Brooklyn; there were plenty of others written about it’s magical rooftop gardens, pretentious art galleries opening in working class neighborhoods, and artisanal bike lanes.

Link: – All the places the NY Times has compared to Brooklyn.

Today’s hipster beating.

Today I heard Logan the Pringle Man costume wearing, transplanted gentrification bartender nasally giggle as he talked about his new ironic cocktail called the “Ebola” – made from locally-sourced  W. African rum; mango juice from an authentic Bushwick bodega; sprinkled with Fruity Pebbles and poured over an old-timey artisanally hand-chisled chunk of ice in a laboratory beaker. So I lodged a meat hook through his communion wafer chest, covered him in bird seed and hung him from the Williamsburg bridge as a flock of pigeons pecked him to death. End of story.


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