Today, I saw Quaid the fairtrade coffee drinking, bearded, Grover-bodied gentrifier on his way to deliver a petition to his local congressman signed by 7,000 other Brooklyn-ruining transplants to permanently make Williamsburg, Greenpoint and Bushwick car-free zones so that funemployed pioneers can turn the streets into everyday flea markets to sell hand-crafted pickles, penny farthing accessories and paper clip-Cheerios necklaces. So I dragged him by his filthy Converse sneakers to the batting cages and held his face in front of the 95mph fast ball machine until he was shitting baseballs. End of story.
Recent Comments
Sheepshead Bites… on The End. Scooby Doo on Today’s hipster bea… Recovering Hipster on Hasidim Hipsters: Punk Je… T Nails on Today’s hipster bea… Recovering Hipster on Hasidim Hipsters: Punk Je… Site Visitors
And so much better for him than a high fiber diet.
The effin’ little Brooklyner.
And then DieHipster kicked his sorry ass so hard that the try-hard woke up in an impact crater in Portland, where he could continue his mission without opposition. And nothing of value was lost, because the few sane folks in Portland said “Fuck this noise” and moved to Brooklyn.
Portland has some pushback besides me….
“Hey, do you want to know your native American spirit animal?” No transplant dork, I do not. This is actually the Top Ten Hipster Douche Bands, correct? This town HAD a music scene before this self serving joke that is the current one. That’s ok, I don’t need to know the new local “it” scene band. I’m good. We used to be known for cutting edge bands, now we are known for emo and hipster trash and whatever it is that Zoey Deshanael does…”
From the Willamette Week Best New Band 2012 comments….http://www.wweek.com/portland/article-19173-best_new_band_2012.html
I’m damn glad to hear that. I really am. I’ve met a lot of good longtime Portlanders since I left, and most are just waiting until the hipsters run out of money and get the fuck out. Problem is, they’ve been waiting until 1996, and I just hope that the plague ends soon for their sakes. (A friend of mine and her husband own a bookstore in St. Johns, and the whole St. Johns area had a big parade last weekend. Apparently some hipster band decided to take the stage without permission, and their combination of ridiculous volume and bad playing cleared out the whole area before someone finally pulled the plug. As she complained, when the whining is so loud that nobody could hear conversations in the front half of the bookstore, how could anyone expect to sell anything?)
St. John’s (and most of North Portland along Lombard, Willis, and Fessenden) is refreshingly free of hipsters, even though Pattie’s Home Plate and James John Cafe were used as locations in Portlandia. (Which bookstore, BTW?)
And a Meagan got squashed last night in downtown…..PLEASE be careful. Your bike will lose a battle with a semi.
Today Zoey is dancing to Shake, Rattle & Roll while sucking down locally sourced cruelty free tomato soup. Tomorrow she is cleaning. Hopefully she will begin with herself.
I can never forgive her for playing Trillian as a doe-eyed ditz in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The woman is supposed to be an astrophysicist, for fvck’s sake.
I’m afraid Zoey is a doe eyed ditz. It’s her only move.
Here in Seattle, summers are a mixed blessing. The days are getting longer, and the shorts are getting shorter, but it also means the dumbshit bikers are coming out in droves. And there are few things more aggravating than being on a Metro bus that has to move at a crawl because some jackass is riding his bike in the middle of the fucking road.
I noticed that around here too. And the squids are coming out of hibernation, ricocheting off the clueless tourists aimlessly driving around in circles.
Hipsters taking lessons from the Ballard Driving Academy….
Shoulda also served him a side helping of stickball bats up the kazoo…
You found a batting cage in Brooklyn? Or did you improvise?
Used the back of a garbage truck. No need to haul the crap-filled remains away separately.
I thought I remember seeing cages off the 39th St exit off the bqe/sunset park area.
This article speaks for itself – notice the stupid-ass moustache tattoo on the alleged offender’s finger…. http://www.oregonlive.com/dining/index.ssf/2012/05/infamous_two-year-old_pig_figh.html#incart_mce
The fight drew national headlines.
According to the suit, Lowe suffered “a broken leg, bruises, swelling, scratches, headaches, concussion, contusions, bleeding … feelings of fear for his safety and well being” and that the incident caused Cochon 555 to “experience a loss in sponsorships and a significant decrease in attendance due to the negative press.” Lowe is asking for a post judgement interest of nine percent on any damages awarded.
Are we talking grown men here or preschoolers?
I’m surprised that the suit didn’t read “Mommy, have him KILLED.”
Damn I thought the arugment was over something far more serious like “DC VS Marvel comics.
What the story doesn’t tell you is the winning pig was the other guys ex-girlfriend.
You can get a broken leg from being smacked with another hipster’s purse?
It’s not a purse. It’s a European man-satchel made with sustainable leather from locally-butchered pigs….
The latest ep of “Law and Order: SVU” featured the Gowanus canal as the dirty place it really is with crazy dudes fishing severed body parts out of it. I also felt that the episode featured a few jabs at the hipster art snob mindset. I will not mention spoilers.
In other news: Hipster Racism and Food trucks intersect. I should have seen this coming. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/14/fojol-bros-deny-racism-charges_n_1515281.html#s=973504
In DC. Figures.
More Masturbation Bros recycled Hershey butt-chocolate drooling.
http://www.villagevoice.com/slideshow/chocolate-brooklyn-style-36788209/
“BROOKLYN” STYLE CHOCOLATE”? WTF is that? Do they spit on each bar before wrapping it? Rinse the pots out in the Gowanus? Tell the bags of hand harvested, cruelty free cocoa beans to “go f**k their mothers”. Do they taunt the schooner shipped beans by calling them “Transplants”. The only thing Brooklyn about their product is the price.
You just don’t understand the creative process.
Germans have been laughing at our chocolate for eons.
Now they have a newer, more relevant reason to do so thanks to the cunt faced Mastard brothers, who have also, it’s been rumored, wed each other in a secret ceremony at a VIP S&M incest club. Free chocolate appetizers were served alllllllll night, woot!
Considering the world of hurt that Village Voice Media is in right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if this article was a direct return for advertising purchased in advance. The pages of the “Dallas Observer” are awfully thin these days because the “Absurder” expects payment up front: it could get away with advertisers paying “whenever you feel like it” because of the money made from personal ads and scam employment classifieds, but not any more…
For the past few days I’ve noticed a few things in the media that might indication a anti-hipster backlash. There was an article on msn.com about what women look for in a man. Although some of the items are shallow and superficial it points to a definite trend away from the Joshie the cruelty free bridge poet: Fit, athletic, clean shaven good dresses, good job, good hygiene, family oriented, responsible, sensitive and drives an Audi.
During the commercials at a local movie theater I saw a spot for Nokia. It showed A ski-capped artsy hipster standing in a loft holding an i-Phone. In a nasally voice he bleats,” I have an i-phone because I’m unique. Just like everyone else”. Then a little girl comes running up to him with an identical i-phone and says, “LOOK AT WHAT I JUST GOT!!”.
My favorite was a TV ad for Newcastle Ale. It opens with realsilent B&W footage of grizzled, unsmiling English coal miners coming out of a mineshaft. Then they show miners in a pub drinking beer. The voiceover: “Why did make this commercial? Because old, B&W films of people who had it far worse than you sells beer”.
One can only hope.
Honestly, I’ve been waiting for this for a while. For at least the last ten years, you’ve had ad companies pushing pro-hipster bullshit because of the assumption that “young equals sales”. Their clients are now realizing, again, that selling to young and stupid doesn’t mean a damn thing unless it actually leads to sales. Selling to thirtysomething and stupid, like that Dunkin Donuts bagel ad that Lewis Black savaged, just makes more people decide “I can’t stand these assholes in person. Why would I want to buy something that makes people think I want to be a hipster myself?”
On another point, I’m starting to notice a wonderful trend away from assuming that reaching hipsters through social media translates to sales. That’s the whole problem: sales. As movie companies have already learned, just because a product’s advertising is incredibly popular with a certain demographic doesn’t mean that they’ll actually buy it. If anything, what happens with hipster-aimed products is that they’ll come into stores, whimper and whine until the store owner starts carrying their latest obsession, and then refuse to buy it because “it’s already over.” This is not a crowd that can be depended upon for long-term brand loyalty, as the dingbats who commissioned Pomplamoose for auto ads have already discovered.
Funny you mentioned DD. I go in at least three times a week. By 7:45 the bagel bins used too be empty. Now they’re 3/4 full.
DH this hipster beating is both hilarious and eerily timely for me. I am very disturbed this morning by a dream that I had last night. I wasn’t going to share it with anyone but since Quaid’s petition is basically asking for what I saw last night, I will share it with you and my fellow hipster haters:
The dream started at my band’s practice space. A few of us were sitting around swilling beers and bouncing around ideas for some new songs. Something that happens fairly often and so nothing out of the ordinary. Yet. We were getting low on beer so I offered to drive over to the neighborhood liquor store and pick-up a twelve pack. This is where it starts to get dream-like.
I had driven my truck to the space, but when I got outside one of my motorcycles was sitting there where I could have sworn I had parked my truck. (Incidentally this is my 2008 ZX-10R which I am in the process of selling to raise the money for some tree work I need to have done in my yard. This is worth mentioning because the overall theme of this dream seems to be loss or fear of the loss to come or something like that.) I thought it was odd that I had my motorbike but didn’t think much of it, hopped on it and tried to figure out what I could buy at the LQ that would satisfy our thirsts but that I could carry on a race bike with no backpack or anything. So I’m cruising over to the liquor store on Plymouth Ave N, Mickey’s, which is one of the two closest LQ’s to our space. The route I took wasn’t quite right, but you know how dreams are.
So now I’m across the street from Mickey’s, on my Ninja, waiting for traffic to pass so I can cross. There’s really a traffic light at this intersection, but again, dreams. But this is where it really starts getting f-d up. The traffic is all bicycles. Dozens and dozens of them. And it starts out being people that look like they belong in this neighborhood, mostly lower income, kind of bummy, lots of “minorities”. There is a lot of public housing around this intersection, and the Twin Cities most notorious projects, Sumner Homes, used to be on the land just south and east of this intersection. This is an area that is ripe for gentrification, but it hasn’t really started happening yet, as most of the yups and hiptards are still prancing around making their play-dough sculptures across the river in NE Minneapolis. So anyway, the longer I wait, the people on the bikes running all up and down Plymouth Ave start to change. First come the artist types, then the hipsters, then the yups, and in my dream I will admit that they got noticeably whiter, like from mostly black and latino people with some whites and natives mixed in, to mostly white with just a few blacks and asians mixed in. And noticeably more upscale clothes and styles. And weirder bikes. And bike trailers, and even a penny farthing with one of those tweed wearing, skinny Rollie Fingers look-alikes riding it.
Eventually I am able to cross the street, and as I park my bike I notice the liquor store no longer looks like Mickey’s but it’s more like something you’d find in the suburbs. Like a 70′s strip-mall type of building. Well I didn’t notice in my dream but I notice now recalling the dream.
And when I get off my bike, it all of a sudden is my mountain bike. WTF? I chain up my Gary Fisher, and go inside, and I’m looking at the 12 packs and the 40s and wondering if I can carry one of those little Heineken mini-kegs on my bicycle all the way back to the space, when the store changes again. Now it’s not a liquor store at all, but some sort of deli. Selling organic and vegan foods. And the customers are no longer fellow northsiders, but mostly all people that I know from my professional career. People who hate the city and some of whom are really racist bigoted people in real life, but who for some reason now live in North Minneapolis and are eating at this hipster hell hole. I find a table of a few coworkers who I actually like, people who live out in the exurbs in real life (far, far away), and start eating some sort of eggplant salad or something with them like nothing is wrong. As I eat I watch the bike traffic. It just keeps getting wierder and wierder. I see a team of four men on road bikes pulling an old Dodge Caravan as a trailer. Like a DOGSLED…
Shortly after that I either woke up or the dream changed or something. I don’t ever remember leaving or getting back to band camp or anything like that.
Those of you who’ve bared with me through this long post / tale: what do you think?
I’m no expert on dreams, and rarely give them much thought, but this seems like my subconscious expressing its fears about how my neighborhood is starting to change, and may even be a view into the future?
I know one thing. I’m taking my truck to Band Practice tomorrow night. And I’m stopping at Mickey’s on the way, and getting a 40 for everyone.
While I still can…
I’m somehow oddly relieved you were on a fast bike in your dream. I don’t mean to offend anyone, or any motorcycle riders past or present, but between the fat old guys buyhing Harley’s so they can cruise at 35mph everywhere and now the damn hipster beta males trying to co-opt an Easy Rider masculinity, I despise the hog, sportster, soft tails etc etc more and more and more. Nothing literally SCREAMS “Look at MEEEEEEE…” than a hipster tard, still wearing a knitty cap or, worse, their little WW1 helmets with skeletor masks on a Harley at one in the morning through suburbia or a ‘drive in the country’. I’m gonna start tossing stars out on the pavement just to bust their tires and watch them slide sideways, leaving 30′ grease stains. Except they’d use the road rash as a bragging point instead of a point to their inability to ride a motorcycle that requires awareness and skill.
And please don’t get me wrong…I am in NO WAY ‘anti-motorcycle’. But I do resent Harley’s being adopted by old farts who are often just the senior version of todays hipsters as both groups just want to be noticed sooooooo desperately by any body. The benefits of quiet, fast bikes are completely lost on them.
I understand many have taken to the scooter/hopeful Mod style of the 60′s, but, particularly the hipster boys, have caught on that people are laughing at them. Which makes their choice of a huge Harley that much more a transparent attempt to buy some sort of macho credibility. Between the tattoos that DON’T make them tougher and the heroin chic that does NOT make them tougher, they find a little hope in the image of a guy with a beard on a Harley and think salvation of their self-esteem lies in a louder, bigger bike.
Hipsters + Harleys = Free bikes for the local 1%ers.
+ 1 million. And I ride.
Haven’t seen any hip-riders around here yet, but the yups are leaving hibernation to start trailering their Harleys to the poseur shows.
The hipsters up here on the fly-over tundra are mostly riding cafe bikes and enduros. I attribute it to their wanna-be steam-punk fetishes.
The oldsers definitely ride the Harleys here too. I left a comment on another post the other day that was my anti-harley rant for a while. Basically comparing Harleys to Macs in that they are bought for their “image” nowadays more than they are bought for their actual value or performance.
I am primarily a sport bike guy. I’ve got a 95 ZX-7R that I’ve been riding for over 10 years, and this 2008 ZX-10R that appeared in my dream I’ve been riding for just over two years. Bought it back then for $2,000 less than it’s worth now. So I can sell it for whatever I can get for it, still at least break even, and get these pesky cottonwood removed before they fall on someone.
Any money I have left over I’m planning to spend on either a 60′s or 70′s dirtbike, or if I have enough maybe an old CB Honda. My first bike was a ’76 CB 500 Twin. I wish I still had that thing!
http://www.southparkstudios.com/guide/episodes/s13e12-the-f-word
I am surprised nobody has brought up this episode of “Southpark” yet of Season 13, episode 12. The part where it shows the biker gang members being attention whores in the library was hilarious. Actually, the whole episode was a gut buster.
It’s OK, just crack open a few and it’ll pass. Not being a believer in Freud or anything…
Yeah it’s only been a few hours and I’m already over the initial shock.
And I don’t really even know that much about Freud but sometimes a dream’s root seems pretty obvious. Other times it’s clearly just random BS.
This is one dream that will probably stick with me for a while though, eitehr way. So vivid and so potentially real.
http://brooklynpaper.com/stories/35/20/24_handstand_2012_05_18_bk.html
Lucky for us, DH replaced the bathroom hand sanitizer dispenser with Krazy Glue.
On the bright side, apparently a few regulars have been cut off from Mommy’s teat, and they have to pay the coke dealer or else:
http://brooklynpaper.com/stories/34/23/ps_77blotter_2011_6_10_bk.html
That sound you hear, by the way, is the sound of hipsters feeding on their own. It was only a matter of time.
I’d love to see the couple that bought these jump OFF the Brooklyn bridge:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/99419915/wedding-invitation-rustic-and-modern?ref=sr_gallery_13&ga_search_query=brooklyn&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=ZZ&ga_min=0&ga_max=0&ga_search_type=all
In case you’ve been wondering, “Gee where can I get fair trade, cruelty free, locally sourced hemp wick?
My question is, how do you light the hemp lighter?
http://humboldt-traders.com
And for more depressing news, I suspect that the two articles here are accurate, because I’ve been watching it happen here:
http://www.theawl.com/2012/05/future-brooklyn-the-dadvorce-mancave
My wife and I are both insanely glad that she and her ex-husband didn’t have kids. After avoiding real work for two decades in order to focus on a subject of true importance, starting his own neighborhood circus, his long-suffering girlfriend finally got tired of subsidizing him and kicked him out. If they’d had children, he’d not only use visitation rights as an easy excuse to continue to stalk her, but he’d use his new homelessness as an opportunity. “You can’t expect the kids to visit their dad in a shelter, do you? C’mon. Just let me crash on the couch for a couple of days. Ringling Brothers/Barnum & Bailey is going to call me back about Clown College any day now.”
OK. So i just wasted a good portion of my lunch hour doing what i vowed I’d never do again: Argue with the cafe’ manager at Barnes and Noble.
I walk in to buy a book. I stop in the coffee shop for some soup. The place is packed – with a few people actually eating and drinking – but there were two 4 tops next to each other that were empty.
I put my book on one of the tables – with my jacket draped on a seat. Walk up to the counter order soup and a sandwich.
While paying for my order I hear the familiar nasally dulcet tones of hipster whining behind me accompanied by screeching noises.
And there they are Caleb, Marni, Ajax and Sookie AKA the board of the Williamsburg Condom Tin Museum and Whoopie Pie Collective – put my book and jacket on the floor, push BOTh tables together and proceed to load it up with i-Sh*t. That’s two four tops – for four emaciated d**ches.
But this isn’t the best part. Calab (or was it Marni?) opens her canvas tote and proceeds to lay out take out containers and drinks.
They sit and proceed to “Ya” the afternoon away.
I’m ready to sh*t a brick. I walk over and give them a bit of Brooklyn Diplomacy. They get real defensive, squirm apologize (because they didn’t know the jacket and book belonged to anyone) and told me in no uncertain terms that they were not moving.
The discussion is now bordering on the use of expletives (by me). The manager comes over.
Bottom line: They refuse to buy anything, and the manager refuses to discriminate against non-paying customers (read that again NON-PAYING customers..how is this possible?). She tells the manager to refund my money or make my order to go.
On the way out I know Caleb’s DUrian soda onto his Apple laptop.
We are so f****cked.
On the way out I KNOCK Caleb’s DUrian soda onto his Apple laptop.
Sorry.
I don’t know what DUrian soda is but I hope you really did destroy shithead’s laptop.
Durian: http://junechua.suite101.com/durian–the-king-of-fruit-a6845
because they didn’t know the jacket and book belonged to anyone
Of course you didn’t, Josh–just like I didn’t know your unattended laptop belonged to anyone when I pulled a sledgehammer out of my coat and smashed it. My bad.
I must have missed the “Reserved for Special Snowflakes” sign on the table.
Sweet Jeebus, don’t they teach kids in culdesacia not to mess with other people’s stuff?
I posted my first experience with this bullet head of a manager a while back. To say that I gave her a facelift purely through the velocity of voice is an understatement. She used the “non-paying customer” shtick on me then. Really? And where are they going TO GO? You’re not only King of the hill – you ARE the hill. These people have no where to go, You could mock them and kick them and they’ll still return. What choices do they have? The romance novel carousel at Shop n Bag? The magazine section at 7-11? Grow a pair. Buy something – stay thirty minutes max and LEAVE.
Now they have people setting up f**cking picnics. It won’t be long before Jaykob the new media intern drags in some amps and a mixing board and proceeds to do his demos in the biscotti section.
But as much as the phrase “new normal” gets on my nerves, it’s apt. Because almost as bad as the trust fund coax cables we complain about, senior citizens are almost as bad. They waltz in with these folding hand carts, make their reading selections and then sit down for hours..then leaving the mountain of books and periodicals on the table.
Yet we’re more civilized, right?
Wrong. We’re turning into the biggest bunch of insensitive, overbearing, annoying and inconsiderate generation ever. B&N wants to be civil by not throwing out wifi moochers. But they charge
For the privilege of getting a discount and do not understand that the people who come there to make actual purchases are fed up. They now flock to Amazon.com. God bless ‘em I love them to bits. I pointed this out to Bobo the Monkey boy/manager. B&N is essentially paying tons of money for real estate that generates less and less income but oddly has a full parking lot and under utilized cashiers.
“Mean people suck” but it’s OK to nail 20 people on a subway car with your bike and backpack.
Twenty people are in line for the movies and you the twizzler movie ticket seller has to perform the retail version of foreplay with each customer:
“Do you have our Stubs card?
NO.
Are You interested?
NO
Let me tell you about it…..
20 PEOPLE IN LINE CRANING THEIR NECKS WONDERING WHAT THE HOLD UP IS ALL ABOUT.
Then there’s the concession stand. Dopey Meghans and Noahs moving in Slo mo asking:
Would you like the combo?
No
You save 2 dollars.
No.
Well you get…..
Awwwghhh! Where was I going with this?
Two old friends used to work for Borders, all the way up until the final moments of the last liquidation sale. They related that their stores had to pack up the comfy chairs and police-tape the cafe areas, because otherwise the shitheads kept coming in to camp out all day and read for free. One told me about the rich fiftysomething who came up to her and just clucked her parrot tongue about how could they expect her to come in and not have some place to read in peace? When my friend tried to explain that the store was going out of business and that everything was being sold off, the woman was alarmed. “So where am I supposed to go NOW?”
You know, that’s a really good question. “Hell” would be my first suggestion. (Of course, I say this because I have a side-business in plants, and I constantly get alter kokkers who call up and throw tantrums that they can’t come by at their convenience to “see the plants”. They have no interest in buying, and they pretty much want to use me as a showroom so they can buy plants off eBay, but I’d better jump to and turn the porch light on at 2 in the morning if they happen to be passing through town at the time. Oh, and if the eBay plant isn’t what was promised, or if it dies because of the customer’s incompetence, do they call the seller? No, they call me, again at 2 in the morning, throwing hissy fits about how I can’t diagnose plant ailments over the phone when the only information being given is “Wull, it’s kinda brown.”)
Having to pimp those fucking store cards is one of the major reasons why I’m about to flip a coin to decide whether to find a new job or go on a shooting spree. That, the backstabbing Zooey Deschanel look-alike I’m stuck working with, and the dipshit manager who’s under the assumption that filling in forms that get tossed out matters more than getting work done. I like the job and most of the dogs I work on, a lot of the clients are great people (even some of the crazy ones), and what am I stuck doing? Having to push some stupid fucking card every fucking second.
It’s not the fault of the dumbass kid at the counter. If you’re going to beat anyone’s skull in, go for the manager who can’t figure out that annoying the shit out of people to push that stupid fucking card is a lot less important than getting customers in and out.
Be PROUD to be a “MEAN PEOPLE”. Back in the 80s, while riding the B train to work from Bensonhurst, there was the same slightly weird guy each day who seemed to have taken a shine to me.. One day, enough became enough, and I told him to fuck off. I was immediately and loudly denounced as a “MEAN MAN”. Shameless bastard that I am, I luxuriated in my new found notoriety but he never came near me again. This is the only thing that works with weirdos, hipsters and what have you. ( I was Jesuit educated to be a “Christian Gentleman” but that doesn’t really work in our world.)
No sweat – I was Jesuit educated too, and I’m sure that telling him to fuck off and being a MEAN MAN is better than expending a bullet or dumping him on the rails under a train. See? A Jesuit education really IS worth something.
I feel for you. Apparently, B&N policy is now not to take issue with people hogging tables all day or bringing in outside food and drink, for fear that they won’t come back. After all, that policy worked out so well for Borders. (I’ve heard several B&N employees and managers complain about both that policy and the free WiFi, noting “Great. Here’s another reason for people to come in and buy nothing.” However, the MBAs in charge know better, and they’ll be the ones getting executive retention bonuses the day B&N finally declares Chapter 7.)
Fucking suits…dumber than a bag of hammers and richly rewarded for being so….
MBA = Manufacturing Business Assholes
“I don’t care if you have 15 years experience running this place. I have a PIECE OF PAPER! I’M SMARTER THAN YOU!!!”
I’ve argued for years that the only reason why most colleges have MBA programs is so the serious party animals on campus can get something for eight years of keggers besides a coke habit and syphilis. Individuals so stupid that you have to kick them in the chest to remind them to breathe, but companies pay six-figure paychecks to these anecephalics because they have that piece of paper. MBAs are probably the only people on the planet more worthless than hipsters, and lower than that I can’t get.
I can – PhDs. They get the coke habit, an ego the size of Alaska, and a lobotomy. In no special order. Never met one that could cross the street by themselves, but they make more in a week than I did in a month. Corporations usually make them executives if they can find their way to work fairly consistently and don’t babble too loudly in public.
Exactly how can a customer be nonpaying?????
“Newspeak”. See George Orwell.
My work place, we prioritize pay
ing customers like a proper business. Fuck, how the fuck do we get called bigots when these nasal-tards with our shit?
You are so much better off in avoiding the bookstore from now on. But you could go back and see if those hipsters are regulars and show up there on the same day/time again. If so, wait around for them to come out or go in and accidentally trip the primary male of the group, then step on his leg because he made you lose your balance and you were trying to prevent further harm to him. Remember to practice an insincere apology that you will recite profusely while standing over the beta male who will be lying there sobbing hysterically over his ‘ouchy’. Offer to call his mom and see if she’ll overnight some Elmo band-aids to him for his boo boo.
If the other hipsters give you dirty looks, soak them up like sunshine.
I know this is probably a repost, but it’s the first time I saw it. It’s a bit of a “remix” of the original “hipster fort” vid.