Today, I saw Maximus the birthday candle-armed, neon Rayban monocle wearing, professional hipster flea market table setter upper intern rolling a cigarette for attention as he was heading to 11am brunch on a Monday in a working class Brooklyn neighborhood to eat a plate of $18 cage-free locally poached egg. So I gave him a light by blow torching him until he looked like Freddy Kruger’s nut sack. End of story.
Watch as this one-of-a-kind, extremely unique, diamond in the rough – with his tilted fedora, stretched earlobes and handlebar moustache – gets even more unique as he tattoos his nose red. I mean, how much attention can somebody fucking crave??? You obviously want to feel unique if you do all those things to your appearance, but don’t you know by now that so many people have done the same things and you are just another douche on the assembly line that has permanently ruined your face and ears? Can you imagine stupid fucks like this are displacing normal families in working class neighborhoods? Yes, this guy happens to be some “zany” barber out in California but I’m quite sure there are plenty of identical hipsters just like him paying $3000 to live in Bushpointburg, Brooklyn. Fuck these people!
I find it so fucking sad that Brooklyn – a working class, simple, unpretentious, ancient part of this country has become a magnet for moneyed hipsters and yupsters to come here for generally one thing: coolness. Can you believe the average Brooklyn rent (Well, Prospect Park and above. Still-normal southern Brooklyn is barely affordable but feeling the effects, rent-wise, of the infinite leisure time class) is about $3000. Are you fucking kidding me? In Brooklyn? This article is about 10 years too late but still illustrates the truth. Fuck these fucking hipster pieces of shit already! Go back to your own town and see how Farmer John and Aunt Martha like your fucking art! They’ll run your asses over with a tractor if you act the way you do here, you fucking zany pussies.
Today, I saw Beckett the emaciated make-believe lumberjack enjoying a well-deserved, locally-sourced, bacon-infused soy latte after a strenuous Thursday afternoon of basket weaving at the Bushwick Adult Craft Cooperative. So I challenged him to an organic baguette sword fight except mine had a tire iron baked into it which shattered his inbred Culdesacian face. End of story.
This fucking douche probably deserves a “LOOK AT MEEEE” Award but I’m gonna save it for someone better. According to the Gothamist article, at one point he was blocking the exits/entrances with an unlit cigarette hanging from his punchable mouth; sitting there in his bedbug chair. Congrats Kyle, you made it to Brooklyn deeeeeeeeeeeeeed. Like, yahh! Yes Kyle, you show those boring, non-creative type people that are just trying to get to or from work that you have infinite leisure time and will soon have that suhweeeeeeet chair in your suhweeeeeet $2750 Bushwick studio that you some how pay for without a real job. Oh wait Kyle – silly me – this was just “performance art”, right? I should’ve guessed that, given how creative your mind is. You are just “pretending” to be an asshole that real New Yorkers hate, right Kyle? Good job Kyle; that $100,000 liberal arts degree is beginning to pay off. But for your next act you should fall asleep in the chair and end up in Canarsie and have a 40oz of OE smashed over your head by an ‘authentic’ Brooklynite.
Today, since the temperature dropped to a bone-chilling 70 degrees, I saw Logan the gender-puzzled, small-batch local whiskey connoisseur with his obligatory 75 ft organic scarf wrapped around his toilet paper tube neck. So I ran the scarf through both of his stretched earlobe piercings and tied it to the back of a Carnival Cruise line bound for Iceland. End of story.