Sorry Matthew Silver – you didn’t make the list. Now go home.

babymatthew1As I was scrolling through this list of “Only Famous in New York” people, I was praying that Matthew Silver the fraudulent, wanna-be loony person would not show up – and he didn’t. Why? Because like I said he’s a fucking fraud – a transient hipster piece of attention-starved shit. Sorry Matthew, I guess you’ll have to keep screaming in Union Square in your soiled green Speedo waving a rubber chicken around for another decade before you get “noticed”. Get a job. Oh, and I know you are reading this and very upset you didn’t make the list. I know this would have been a milestone in your amazing career. You are nothing but another try-hard hipster in a long line of try-hard hipsters who are taking up precious space in Brooklyn.

LinkBuzzfeed.com: 31 “Celebrities” who are only famous in New York.

What can’t these hipster fucks ruin?: Next stop, Paris.

paris-hipstersRecently I posted about a woman who literally dropped everything and moved to France on a kale crusade. I really don’t have the energy to rant about this one – so just read this N.Y. Times piece about hipsters ruining Paris. What can’t these bastards ruin? When will it end?

Link: N Y TIMES – How hipsters ruined Paris.

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, as I was pissing on an urban, sustainable, hipster radish garden in Nieuw Bozwik, I saw Baker typing up a raving Yelp review of a tofurkey panini he had at Sawyer’s “Real NY” Deli that still has the ‘Hector’s Auto Repair Shop’ sign in front. So I dragged him by his windshield wiper arms to an A & S Pork Store in actual Brooklyn and ran his bearded Spin Doctor face through the cold cut slicer. End of story.

Zany Zane the filthy beardo is back for more attention.

Zany Zane, a previous winner of the “LOOOOOK AT MEEEE” award is back for more attention. I wonder what it’s like to go through life being nothing more than a punchable hipster fuck who poses for beard pictures? Check out the nasty video of him at the bottom eating French fries out of his disgusting pigeon shit nest. I can just picture this attention-starved jerkoff putting on a show in the Bedford Ave L train station, surrounded by a bunch of kazoo-voiced, bearded, recent arrivals from Flyoverlandia who aspire to be like him one day thinking “Brooklyn is so kewel” as they head to their assistant creative skate board repairman jobs in a gritty, abandoned and converted poultry slaughter house in Bushwick. Hey Zane…keep growing that beard so I can hunt you down and asphyxiate you with it.

zanyzanesbeardcollection

Hipster’s trust fund dries up; violently steals local organic apple.

20131106-134212.jpg

No he didn’t steal a Macbook. It seems this hipster needed his fix of local, sustainable, organic fruit no matter what. After using his last $3200 of his trust fund to pay this month’s rent for an amazing studio in an “up and coming naaaaaaaabe” without kitchen and a community bathroom in the hallway, he had no other choice but to steal an apple from a Greenpoint fruit store. When confronted, he choked the employee who caught him and bit his ear. This is an unbelievable amount of strength for a hipster to possess; normally they have trouble carrying a bag of locally-sourced popcorn or cruelty-free cotton balls up one flight of stairs.

Link – DNAinfo.com: Hipster steals apple; the fruit not the computer.

My yearly Halloween afterthought.

Every year, the day after Halloween I have the same thought. The thought is: what if I put on a ball-crushing skinny jeans; Buddy Holly glasses; a fake beard; filthy Converse sneakers and a scarf and walked around Bushpointburg all day on Halloween? For me, this would be absolutely wearing a costume because IT IS A FUCKING COSTUME! Yet not one piece if shit hipster I would pass would think twice. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t it absolutely crazy that you could transform yourself into a ridiculous looking lemming – go to a neighborhood and not look weird? These spoiled fucks are in costume all year long. Every day is Halloween to them. Now what I mentioned is just your standard annoying hipster uniform – then you have the people that walk around, daily, like emaciated lumberjacks; Civil War Re-enactors; failed rock stars; the Pringles man; Amish windmill builders; 1912 paperboys; 1960’s librarians; tattooed fishing rods; and penny farthing salesmen. Did I leave anything out? Why oh why did this plague have to come to Brooklyn??? WHYYYYY?

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, as I was gazing out my window watching real Brooklyn kids bomb terrified hipsters with eggs, I had a great idea. So I filled a pumpkin with quick-dry cement and smashed it over the skull of the first spatula-physiqued, 1862 facial-haired, $5.84 cup of coffee drinking, rent-raising, Brooklyn-pussifying, hipster piece of shit I saw. End of story.

The list of future hipster beating victims.

hipsterbaby1Thanks to the few people that sent this list to me of “quirky” and “zany” hipster baby names which will give me an endless supply of names to incorporate into the hipster beating section of this site. So be ready ‘Cormac’, ‘Kale’ (yes, Kale!), ‘Watson’, and ‘Edison’ – the hipster beater is coming to get you. The precious snowflakes on that list will be coming to a city near you soon to further continue the hyper gentrification that their parents are doing right now. Soon, Everly and Prue and Miller and Hudson will be opening a goat farm record store art supply café around the corner from where you will be packing your furniture into a U-Haul because your rent just tripled thanks to the smug nasal brigade coming to check “the nabe” out for a couple of years. Fucking disgusting!

thestir.cafemom.com -100 Hipster Beating Victims, I mean Baby Names.

Today’s hipster beating.

Today, as I was throwing bricks at bearded 30 year old mid-day skateboarders, I saw Grady and Xander getting signatures from local, organic transients to petition the city to install bike lanes in all NYC cemeteries so they can do authentic and zany haunted Halloween tours for the “vibrant creative types who have helped Brooklyn flourish”. So I made a rope out of their Converse shoelaces; tied each end around their Vienna Sausage-like necks and threw them over a telephone cable like a pair of sneakers. End of story.

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