Today, I saw red bearded, Triple-AAA battery limbed Tristan loudly proclaim in a bar full of part-time vegans and 38 year old skate boarding baristas that he’s FROM Brooklyn. So I had no other choice but to beat him with a 2 X 4 for so long that all that was left in my hand was was a toothpick. End of story.
This hipster beardo jerkoff just might be the king of infinite leisure time - more than any other hipster we’ve ever seen. (And boy, do they have a lot of leisure time) Watch as this lice chauffer runs around Manhattan slapping [mostly] real New Yorkers high-five as they try to hail cabs and get on with their day and JOBS!!! Oh Kyle, you’re so zany and quirky! Yes, I know, these people who are on their way to places and are not jumping around like toddlers in a hipster uniform are very strange and need to lighten up on responsibility and follow in your footsteps, right Kyle? But you know what Kyle? I actually want you to continue doing this as much as I hate it because you are increasing the chance of you getting flattened by a bus or truck. Enjoy your playcation in New York you fucking bearded pile of shit.
Another pic sent in by http://instagram.com/EddieGoing.
Yes Zelda, it’s deep. Deep performance art that the average visionless, uncultured, knuckle-dragging native NYer can’t see or understand. Only your transplanted fellow millennial peers from liberal art schools in Oregon and Wisconsin can understand your art and your statement. Zelda, it must feel good that you can stand upside down in a diseased garbage can for your much-needed attention while your $2400 studio rent in Bushwick is being payed for by Mommy and Daddy VanNasalthroop. Congrats Zelda, you win the September 2014 “LOOOOOK AT MEEEEEE” Award. Yes, we see you.
Today, I saw Evan & Hayden walking to the gentrification gluten-free muffin shop in Bed-Stuy for a quick $16 breakfast before a long and hard day of being “creative”. So I gave them a much needed bath by Krazy Gluing their foreheads to the curb and and running them over with a street sweeper. End of story.
Today, on the opening Sunday of the NFL season, I walked by an overpriced gentrification “craft ale” bar in Bushpointburg full of kazoo-voiced, baguette-bodied, Ohio transplanted hipster fucking beardos cheering as all TV’s were only showing Browns and Bengals games. So I stole a wrecking ball that was about to knock down an affordable building for normal Brooklyn families to build more condos and passed the ball through the bar – splattering interloper brains everywhere. End of story.
Did this father teach this spoiled cumstain of a son a lesson and send him on the right track eventually?
Or did he force him to pretend he has found his calling as an “artist” in the near future and will have his Daddy paying his way through a gentrification vacation in a “kewl” city near you?
I can absolutely see this whining bitchboy growing a beard and styling his hair in “just woke up” mode and moving to Bushwick to pretend to be an artist or “graphic designer” and simply just becoming one of those dime a dozen, identical, punchable hipster fucks we keep seeing come off the assembly line. I believe most Calebs and Haydens that you see have gone through this sort of thing prior to becoming world renowned artists.
Today, I saw Conrad the coffee stirrer armed, under-the-Williamsburg-bridge overpass-typewriter-poet trespass into actual Brooklyn by going to L&B Spumoni Gardens. So I gouged his eyes out with a spumoni scooper and then used a 24-sqaure metal pizza tray to smash across his face leaving a bearded, thick eyeglass frame impression in it. End of story.