A diehipster Missed Connection

Dear moldy Chuck Taylor sneaker girl who wears that “Look at me” hat and those moldy, ripped, filthy, disgusting, smelly Converse sneakers while managing to live in either Manhattan or a triple inflated rent apartment in pseudo-hip Brooklyn. How do you do it? What is your secret to being so rich yet so poor? I’d like to buy you a new pair of Chucks so we can rub McCarren Park dirt on them while cutting perfectly placed ironic holes in them so people will think we are unsuspecting musical or artistic geniuses just waiting to be discovered as we rot in the NYC subway system. Hit me up at diehipsters@gmail.com

50 thoughts on “A diehipster Missed Connection

  1. That hat…is a cry for help.

    • Be glad it’s only winter. You should see the fuckheads wearing those same exact hats in the middle of a Texas summer. They’re getting the attention they crave: unfortunately for them, the attention involves their dead pool. “How long can Grover prance down Elm Street at 3 in the afternoon before he either bursts into flame or drops dead of heat exhaustion?”

    • You and the hipsters do have one thing in common. At bottom you both fear and hate women. Admit it. Needless to say I find this site and your comments compelling, amusing and charming.

    • Speaking of which, I had to work late last night, so my wife and I went out to dinner afterwards. We ended up going to a local chain coffeehouse/restaurant because it was about the only thing still open in the vicinity, and figured we’d get something basic. What we didn’t know was that the place was full of hipsters, and worse, hipster role-playing gamers. If they weren’t braying and carrying on, they were sneaking off to the “courtyard” on the side of the restaurant for a smoke, regularly blasting the main dining area with subfreezing air every time two would decide to strike up a conversation in the doorway. And that was about once every two or three minutes. I left my coat on the whole time, thank you very much, because apparently these were all the manager’s friends.

      Anyway, I was wondering if the SyFy Channel was trying its own version of Project Runway at this place, because you couldn’t believe the idiotic outfits in here. Typical hipster nonconformist fashions were all over, but then there was the weaselface in a pre-Soviet breakup Russian Army officer’s cap, and the girl who looked like she’d stolen Stevie Nicks’s rag bag. Worse, every last one stepped in and struck a pose, as if they were expecting applause for their inventive outfits. They promptly filed into the back room, where the discussions of their half-elf bard characters were almost as annoying as their discussions of Horde business in the courtyard doorway.

      The finale, though? The 300-pound fat hipster who made a regular circuit from free coffee dispensers in one corner, the courtyard, and the back room every three minutes. Skinny pants that misfit so badly that he looked like he’d taken a 30-pound shit in them. An anime calendar featuring nude characters with eyes almost as big as their breasts, which he kept pulling out and showing to anybody who made eye contact with him. A denim jacket that hadn’t been washed since 1985, and that apparently stuck together only because of the human grease. Classic greasy hair, greasy skin, and greasy eyes, with one of those scraggly, smeary beards that made him look like he’d been feeding from the toilet in back. And atop his head…

      A fez.

      A purple fez.

      A purple fucking fez, with a little blue TARDIS patch (handmade, based on its crudeness) on the front. And he kept lumbering around the room, desperately hoping that someone would ask him about the ugly thing, and he’d finally get the chance to explain why it was So Important.

      We’re definitely skipping this place in the future. There’s not a force on Earth that could get us to go back on a Friday night, not with that crowd.

  2. I just got off the American App.l Trail, I wrote my Magnum Dopeus “where the subway ends” at the part-time work/non-conformist meets conformist trail-head. The random scuffs are a part of a part time job I’m working on called “hand and charcoal meet chuck and looking for attention” project, it was commisioned by my great grandpa, a Coal baron.

  3. My personal favorite is the ridiculously paint covered jeans with unstained regular top combo.

  4. Diehipster:

    Had you considered a “hate mail” page on your blog? :)

    Probably not enough cheese in the universe to go with the whine…

    • There could also be an “FAQ” page, so we wouldn’t have to keep answering the same stupid “blogging makes you a hipster” and “you displaced Native Americans” and “you’re jealous of young people” canards over and over and over.

      • That is a good idea. Yes, occasionally the angry hipster stumbles upon here and tries to prove a point in self defense thats been already shot down but they don’t know it or admit it yet.

        • Go for it. Most of those “defenders” know they can’t win: they’re just desperately hoping to get in the last word. That’s why you get so many of the weasels making comments on old posts. Dropping in a “blogging makes you a hipster” crack in a post from a year ago won’t change anybody’s mind, but they know that it’s much less likely to attract commentary that will leave them crying their eyes out all the way back to Pennsyltucky.

    • Oh man isn’t that the truth! hahahaha.

  5. Make this site identify and refuse to render on apple prodUcts. Job done.

  6. And underneath the coat lies a $1000 sleeve of Sesame Street characters and a shitty quote by someone we have never heard of AND lest we forget the ironic moustache tattoo on one of her fingers…

    • Bonus if the quote is mis-spelled. And speaking of “ironic” tattoos and sleeves, one thing I am sick of, something that has been going on for a while, is the proliferation of Super Mario Bros. and NES imagery. Most of this stuff is being flaunted by people who were born in the era of Playstation, and cut their teeth on PS2, XBox, if not Xbox 360. These people know dick about 8-bit games. Sorry but “Hey…remember MARIO?” isn’t fooling anybody.

      • the very basis of the existence of scott pilgrim. all the actors and its fans were barely around for the 16-bit era and are mysteriously ‘nostalgic’ for the NES

      • Next step: “ironically” appreciating the crappy third-rate NES games that those of us who were actually alive at the time are still trying to forget.

        “Oh, you have a Super Mario Bros. tattoo? *nasal snicker* Mine is of a game called Uncle Fester’s Quest. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

        • damn. fester’s quest. ugh. I feel pukey over silver surfer still. but yes, for me to be cool, I feel pukey ‘ironically’

    • …and she’s from Illihiowisconsota. And she’s got a liberal arts degree from Antioch College. Or Ohio University….or both.

  7. I would have just asked her whats up with her sneakers. I cold talk to people on the street for the fun of it. To get a psych map of folks. A curiosity I have per say. Hey thats a good one post up hipster interviews and hidden cams. You know what I think, it might be a hit. Its been done I know but this anti hipster community is huge.

  8. I wish I had a camera the other night to film something and submit it here for a cover story. I took a girl out to a coffee shop here on Long Island. The coffee shop had open mic night, which I had no problem with. There was a girl, who was in her early twenties, dressed in a high school looking band uniform, with a flute. She knew how to play the flute, but was there a need for her to be in that outfit? She was also acting like a fool, laughing loud with her hipster friends, and basically drawing attention to herself. The girl I was with commented on how lame she and her friends were and couldn’t find a word to describe them. I told her about this site and she found it hilarious.

  9. Makes you just want to snatch that hat off, take a huge dump in it and then stuff it back onto her empty head.

  10. as my italian grandmother would say ‘brutta, brutta, brutta’!

  11. Dopey bitch!

  12. Kevin….I was at Dirty franks in Philly on Sunday. i walked in and there’s this girl all decked out in fullhipster douchebaggery, walking on the bat, PLAYING A UKELELE, and singing a god awfully bad song. There were a few other hipsters there (SADLY) who sat in awe and the regu;lar crowd just shook their heads at the lameness of it all.

  13. walking on the bar

  14. It is easy as fuck to call these fucks out for being the gentrifying pieces of shit that they truly are

    Just walk up to the most ironic dressing attention seeking beardo on the train and start up a loud conversation with him

    ME Yo!!! I remember you. You used to shop over at (insert name of a local department store that has been closed and out of business for almost 20 years) back in 1992 right? I remember you.

    BEARDO Huh?????

    ME You mean to tell me you do not remember?
    Come on man! Dont you remember that blind guy with the dancing dog who would always spin around and chase its tail in the front of the store?

    BEARDO No. Sorry. That was not me I think you have me confused with somebody else.

    ME I have you confused with somebody else?
    What are you talkin about? I remember you like it was yesterday.

    BEARDO Nope that was not me sorry.

    ME Hey wait a minute. Where are you from?

    BEARDO I’m from here.

    ME Really? What high school did you go to? Who was your principal when you went to school there?

    BEARDO No what I meant to say is that I am from Kansas but I live here now.

    ME Oh. Ok. So what you really meant to tell me is that you are a transplant and are not originally from DC right?

    BEARDO Yes. Sorry. (Beardo nods down head in shame)

    ME Well I am actually from here you asshole and I take offense to that. Next time just admit where you are really from the 1st time around you fucking poser.

    And there you have it… the beardo fuck lowers his head in shame and now is not so proud about his newfound urban status anymore. He goes back to his overpriced parentally funded apartment and weeps his fucking eyes out.

    • You forgot the part where you knock him so hard he lands back in Lawrence, Kansas (another hipster spawning ground) where his pasty obnoxious ass belongs.

  15. The fuck is up with that conehead?

    • Same thing in Portland, even down to the moron comments at the bottom of the article. Very few use the bike lanes, but suggest taking them out, and the brats start screaming and throwing things. I even read a couple “What about the children?” posts down there.

      • Funny thing is, I’ve been cycling around NYC for years and I never knew the bike lanes even existed. I have cycled in Manhattan traffic at rush hour as well as all parts of Brooklyn, Queens, Bronx and Staten Island. I always wore a helmet and watched my back. I never had an accident.

        What these little pussies are wetting their diapers about, I don’t know.

        PS, In many cities in Europe they have bike lanes. Difference is, those cities were built from the beginning with bike lanes in mind and people know to respect them. (It’s funny watching tourists in Rotterdam or Berlin getting hit by bikes because they don’t know what the red-brick path is for)
        Trouble is, putting them in American cities which were never designed for bikes just doesn’t work and never will. Of course that only creates more causes for the layabouts to whine about and more business for Dewey Cheatem and Howe.

        Instead watch where you’re going you little bitches.

        • Word.

          I cycle too.

          Cycling in this city is an activity for men, not hipsters.

          You’ve got to integrate with the flow of traffic, be aggressive and smart, think three moves ahead and watch your six.

          Not go wobbling along in the bike lane texting on your iphone and playing a fucking attention seeking tuba.

  16. This was great! I miss the DieHipster Missed Connections and “Fishing for Hipsters”!

    Pure gold, my friend. :-)

  17. I almost died laughing … almost.

  18. I kinda dont blame her. My pumas are over a year old and I just dont got the cash

    • oh don’t give me that bullshit.

      at least for a woman, it aint’ that hard.

      Strawberry, anybody? Rainbow, Conway, if you’re desperate?

      i bought a pair of $15 boots from Rainbow when my good expensive boots bit the dust (until i could order a new pair of expensive ones) and NO ONE has been able to tell the difference. in fact, people think they’re high end.

      this is just gross.

  19. Hi,

    Thanks for this! Nice thoughts!

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