New York is really, really starting to suck major dick. Wait, it already has for a good decade. The iconic Junior’s restaurant which opened in 1950 and is famous for its cheesecake has sold out to developers to bring in a 20-story and maybe a lot taller residential tower. Now you might blame the owners for selling out – but can you really? The problem isn’t people selling out – the problem is that hipsters started this trend of out-of-state people willing to pay too much money to live in the outer-boroughs; like when hipsters (actually their parents) idiotically decided to pay $1000-$1500 for 80 year old, beat up 1 and 2 bedroom apartments in Williamsburg in the late 90′s.
The Daily News article mentions that the owners of Junior’s plan on re-opening on the ground floor of the new building when it’s built; but that’s not written in stone yet and we all know it won’t be the same. So get ready downtown Brooklyn – for a new building full of yet more snob women carrying yoga mats at 1pm and nasally dweebs in their Land’s End catalog clothes walking dogs that are smaller than cats.
Greenpoint, Brooklyn — Just when you thought you’ve seen the most ridiculous and obscenely over-priced products being made by and sold to idiotic wanna-be urban hipsters – BAM! – another one pops up. Lots of hipsters who don’t admit to being one and many hipster defenders might say “hipster jokes are old; give up this tired shtick”. But I say just look at how every month or week or every few days, the most ridiculous thing you can imagine happens within their narcissistic lemming community. How can you not stop to point it out and laugh when you are a life long resident of Brooklyn and know its’ non-hipster history?
This time its the $7 latte. That’s right…SEVEN FUCKIN DOLLARS. Please, spare me the “origin stories” of the magical journey the beans took getting to your store and explaining the “unique artisanal roasting techniques” and foreign high-end licorice. There is no way to justify a $7 cup of coffee. End of story. The only way you’d get me to pay $7 for a latte is if I could drink it out of a cup that’s resting between Salma Hayek’s tits.
But have no fear: there will be plenty of 35ft long scarf wearing, thick eyeglass framed, Converse-clad, unpaid interns and part-time production assistants who magically can afford to live in $2200 apartments lining up with Mommy’s Midwest MasterCard in hand for this obscene beverage. I heard there is a secret tunnel that connects to the Mast Brothers $10 a bar gentrification chocolate factory in case you feel you haven’t spent enough money that day.
You can now represent the fact that you hate hipsters by wearing a DIEHIPSTER.COM t-shirt right in front of them. However I will need to get a minimum of 100 people (or 100 shirts ordered) to order one by March 10th using this website I found called teespring.com. You can place an order with a credit card but it won’t get charged unless the goal is reached and you’ll get the shirt a couple weeks after the end of the campaign . The shirts are $19.99. Please spread the word via Facebook, Twitter, email, etc. If the goal is reached prior to March 10th, you’ll still be able to order one up until that date. All personal info securely goes only to TeeSpring.com. If the goal is reached I will begin another campaign. I thank you ahead of time for your support!
Today, I saw Hamilton heading to the Mast Brothers Ye Olde Chocolate Shoppe to buy a $900 box of sustainable chocolate with Mommy’s Midwest Mastercard to celebrate his first Valentine’s Day in New Brooklyn with Penelope the performance artist. So I slid a Hefty bag over his basketball pump frame and beat him with a bowling pin until his helium voiced cries for help stopped. End of story.
There are 4 emaciated, Yosemite Sam moustached, Converse clad, part-time vegan, rusty Schwinn riding, funemployed Brooklyn-ruining hipster shitrags in the trunk.
The fucking beards (and moustaches) have to end already. Yes hipster, we see you! We saw you! It’s played out, dirty, old and embarrassing to see you trying so hard to be different when you’re all the same. You’ll never be Sean Connery or Tom Selleck. You’ll only achieve the incredibly low status of being a scraggly out-of-place wanna-be urban gentrifying hipster piece of shit.
So here we have a new beardo to burst onto the scene for his 15 minutes of facial pube fame: Pierce Thiot. Yes, Pierce. These hipsters always have to have one of those names. There’s only one person who should be allowed to be named Pierce and that’s Pierce Brosnan. Well, Pierce of Utah seems to think he made art by inserting objects like spaghetti (which they seem to call noodles out in Pierce country), lollipops, birthday candles, lit matches, toothpicks and Q-tips into his filthy beard. The only thing I enjoy about that is that I’ve actually used all those objects to describe the typical hipster’s arms and legs in my daily hipster beatings. There’s one picture of Pierce inserting scissors into his lice incubator – too bad Pierce didn’t pierce his jugular during that “performance”.
On his website you’ll find his resume, his very short resume where his title is – you guessed it - ”ART DIRECTOR”. Who would’ve thought, right? You know that an attention-starved beardo who sticks Q-tips in his dirty beard is not going to be a fireman, accountant, architect, or athlete. But here is the creepy part: it says he is a cub scout leader. Are you kidding me? Who would let their kid near a child molester-looking hipster beardo who sticks scissors and lit matches in his disgusting beard? How long is it before Pierce packs up his Mac and beard grooming supplies and heads up here to the whimsical land of Nieuw Breckelen to teach us style, art, and urban living? YOU ARE NOT AN ARTIST PIERCE! THIS IS NOT ART! FUCK YOU BITCH! STAY AWAY FROM BROOKLYN!
Here are some links…
Watch as these two hipster beardo brothers re-create pictures from their early childhood. Who would have known back then that two innocent little boys would grow up to be typical standard issue bandwagon beardo sheep. I’m guessing their names are Mason and Logan, or Keegan and Maximillian or Reid and Cord. These photos are just creepy to me – except the dog photo.
Aww, an underground (literally) “zine” stand at the Lorimer G/ Metropolitan L station had to close after only seven months of hipster douchbaggery. How shocking. Just look at that pic! I’ll kinda give the middle guy a pass (although he’s looking pretty smug) but the two ‘uniquesters’ in the foreground and background are so fucking irritating and punchable – sitting there, looking identical to the 100,000 hipsters who arrived to Brooklyn before and after them in their ironic “zine” stand in the year 2014. Just look at that vapid staring redbeard (named Lele) and the tattooed-neck turtle with child molester moustache.
How did they manage to pay the $4000 rent for that friggin walk-in closet selling: “self-published,limited-run periodicals; artisanal snacks; art; and gizmos, including a condom dispenser re-purposed to vend tiny pamphlets“, and then still have enough money left over to pay all their outrageous $2700 apartment rents, $90 a day coffee/craft ale tabs and $18 kale ‘n egg brunches??? It’s a mysteryyyyyyy!
I love this: “Goldfarb declined to say how much the stand made.” – Of course she declined! Because they’re in the red. This “operation” had to be a total loss as almost all hipster ventures are.
I’m so glad this out-of-place kidult playhouse is closed. But alas, the article says “Saveri is now planning a similar operation in Los Angeles”.
So you’re fucking telling me that this 35 year old thick framed glasses redbeard can simply just pack up anytime he wants and move 3000 miles away and open another failure hipster zine stand??? THANKS MOM AND DAD!!!!! I’m telling you – I hate these hipster motherfuckers with such a passion. All they do is continue their “cool crusades” and temporary stays in cities around the country; fucking it up for the native, normal, unpretentious, non-attention seeking, working families. When they’ve had enough or in most cases FAILED, they whip out Daddy’s AMEX and book a flight to the next city they read about on an art blog.
I wish this happened in Brooklyn to a normal real Brooklynite’s storefront window and the owner came out beat this attention starved jerkoff with a bat.
Today, I saw Fletcher the bed bug distributing faux urban lumberjack heading to the secret saw mill off of the Newtown Creek which is really just an overpriced coffee shop with vintage typewriters so never-to-be- known temporary Nieuw Breuckelenite writers can be seen amongst each other in public. So I welded him shut inside an iron maiden with a hive of killer wasps and donated it as a sled for real Brooklyn kids to use down the hill in Owl’s Head Park. End of story.