Hey hand-made crafting hipster nerds, let’s move on to the next fad, shall we? If I see one more cutesy retro squirrel I am going to drop my pants, pull out my wang and fuck it. I don’t care what it is, it’s getting fucked. Letterpress card… fucked! Pillow… fucked! T-shirt (on a hanger or being worn)… fucked! Tattoo on your face… FUCKED!
Have you ever gone to a Renegade Craft Fair? Just try and find something without a whimsical cute thing on it. What is this desire to live life as a 6-year-old? Yeah, it was fun being a kid but I’ve moved on to more worthwhile things and I enjoy doing adult things like driving a car and putting breasts in my hands. Do you realize I could go buy a chainsaw RIGHT NOW if I felt like it? That’s what being a grown up is all about, boobs and chainsaws.
A couple weeks ago I attended the ultra-hip Pitchfork Music Festival. When I walked in the front gate, I thought I had possibly just passed through some sort of Michael J. Fox time portal to 1986. I was thinking, “Shit, have the past 25 years been a dream? Am I still in high school? Am I a virgin again?” Luckily I was still in 2010 and it was simply thousands of unoriginal, uninspired ironic hipsters walking around looking like extras on a John Hughes movie.
There are too many details to write about when it comes to these hipster turds, so I will focus on two unfortunate fashion trends that I thought I would never have to suffer through again.
Two-tone Ray Ban sunglasses!
Life’s a beach, right guys? These glasses were dumb in the 80s and they are even dumber now. If memory serves me, this style of sunglasses was never actually cool in the 80s. They were usually cheap promo items with some company name stamped on the side, like “Newport” cigarettes or “Pert Plus” shampoo. Maybe that’s why they are cool now because they are anti-cool? I can’t tell anymore. All I know is that your funny, ironic sunglasses suck and you smell like Pert Plus.
Girls with giant glasses!
This is a new trend in female hipsterdom that is concerning to me, I call them “Mary Gross Girls.” With this phenomenon we see frumpy girls working their hardest to take their frumpiness to new heights in an attempt to make us think their frumpiness is totally on purpose. “I’m actually super sexy under these culotte shorts that accentuate my incredibly smooth mom-ish FUPA. This mess is all on purpose!” Oh yeah, and they wear giant mathlete glasses, blah blah blah.
I’m going to keep this short for exactly 2 reasons.
1) I got home late after dinner and drinks at the latest trendy hipster whiskey tavern (more on that later).
2) My neighbors are going apeshit because we won the Stanley Cup and there’s a good chance our apartment will burn to the ground by morning.
3) There’s only so much to say about these assholes.
4) It’s late, I’m tired and I hate blogs.
Sooooooooo anyway. Tonight was my second trip to the latest hipster hangout in Chicago. It’s more saloon than “bar” and the amount of waxed handlebar mustaches and suspenders holding up tiny pants is staggering. Apparently now it’s cool to look 90s… 1890s. Just ask loyal reader of this amazing website, Erica, about the transportation of her coworkers.
My point is this… FUCK YOU, YOU RIDICULOUS BORING HIPSTERS.
My point is also this… I have coined a phrase for this new breed of precious turn-of-the-century hipster and all I ask is that you spread it and make it catch on. The “Urban Howdy Doody.”
Want to know what every hipster in Chicago looks like? I mean do you want to know EXACTLY what EVERY hipster in Chicago looks like? Then simply gaze upon this cookie-cutter douchebag. You will have to imagine the body odor but just think of what it might smell like if a dog barfed onions all over a homeless man’s pubes on a 95-degree day.
Look, I get it, people like to be around other people with similar interests but does everyone have to be wrapped in the exact same uniform? Especially when your clique is supposed to be all about individualism and counter-culture blah blah blah.
It used to be that all the “cool” people played in bands but for some reason, in the blink of an eye, everyone ditched their guitars and started pretending to be “Dave” from Breaking Away. I miss the days when hipsters pretended to be working-class British factory workers!
Like most people on the planet, within a week of moving to my new place I found myself making the pilgrimage to the blue and yellow monolith. I check my pride at the door, get on my belly and suck that IKEA teat like a hungry piglet. I’m pretty sure I know exactly what a crack whore feels like when she’s “working.” (That’s two posts in a row that mention whores, if you are keeping score. More whores in 2010!)
I feel equal parts shame and excitement as I walk through those doors and the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls and particle board wraps around my body like the ghosts in Poltergeist. Shopping at IKEA is like telling the world, “I’m poor, I’m lazy, I like ümlaüts and I want my stüff to look like your stüff.” I spend most of my time convincing myself that, “It looks OK, right? It’s kind of cool looking, right? It doesn’t look too IKEA, right?”
I would love to sit here on my throne and criticize all my fellow IKEA shoppers as middle-of-the-road, boring, predictable, suburban, wannabe hipsters but how can I when I’m walking around filling my cart with Flürgens, Gråbenfüks and Lüäöküöås just like they are. I want to feel superior, but as I type this from my IKEA Vika Grevsata desk it’s not that easy. I used to be cool. I used to be in a band.
But don’t think the pain ends when you get home with your pile of vaguely stylish products. Oh no silly pants, that’s when you get to decipher Swedish hieroglyphics and spend the next 7 hours assembling your crappy bookcases.
Lucky you, today you get to hear me complain about two things that suck.
1) The Apple store!
Let me first say that I love Apple products. However, I’m not a blind “fanboy,” rather I love Macs because they FUCKING WORK and as a graphic designer there is no substitute. Unfortunately I have had to spend a lot of time in the Apple store this week due to the cockless anus face who stole my computer. Have you been in an Apple store recently? They are bucking the system by eliminating any form of check out counter. Instead, each hip t-shirt-wearing employee has the ability to complete your purchase right there where they are standing in their skinny jeans. This may look cool, but it means the end of waiting in a orderly line to be served. The only way, literally, to be served in an Apple store is to stand in the middle of the floor with a confused look, like a sad puppy begging for a Snausage. It makes you feel like a whore standing on a street corner trying to out-whore the other whores.
2) Threadless iPhone cases!
If you have any doubt as to why I FUCKING HATE Threadless, please watch this video and it will all be clear. These fucking assholes at Griffin Technology and Threadless are acting like they cured cancer when they accidentally mixed their cure for A.I.D.S. with their cure for multiple sclerosis. Mark McGlon (never has a last name so perfectly described a lumpy tub of crap) practically has tears in his fat eyes as he describes the printing of doodles on plastic iPhone cases as “brilliant.” Brilliant? BRILLIANT?!? And if you ever wanted to see inside the empty mind of a Threadless design winner (and Threadless employee… hmmmmm), please watch douchebag hipster nerd Joe Van Wetering describe the BRILLIANT design process behind his doodles. Please get your gentle voice and Hitler hair out of my dreams and into my car, where I will drive you to a warehouse and force you to makeout with a girl.
Obviously Stephen Colbert and his little staff of pot smoking New York hipsters are HUGE fans of my work and have once again stolen the contents of my handsome head. This time around these pilfering sons-of-asses have taken my genius thoughts about the Miracle Whip commercials and used them word for word. Literally WORD FOR WORD! Well, maybe not literally word for word but they literally used some of the same words. Let’s just say that words were used and leave it at that! Look, the point is that clearly Stephen Colbert has instructed his “writers” to monitor my every thought and claim them as their own. It hurts Stephen, it really hurts.
Hold on a second, I’m getting a text… What’s that? Meet at Monica’s pool? Bring Smirnoff Ice, turntables, foam cushions and an ironic hat? What are my crazy friends up to now?!?
You know why none of these wacky commercials featuring hipsters organizing and pulling off crazy magical stunts make any sense? Because douchebag hipsters lack the ability to get off their dirty asses to do anything, unless it involves 10 speed bikes and/or skinny jeans. If real hipsters were to attempt to fill a pool with foam and jump into it, I can guarantee the local emergency room would be filled with ironic mustaches and body odor that night.
Much like the world’s most ridiculous appropriation of “youth culture” for advertising purposes, these commercials ask you to believe the world is filled with twenty-somethings dressed in thrift store clothes who spend their days doing awesome secret stuff. The kind of stuff that you remember the rest of your life, like eating fake mayonnaise on a roof! Sounds KILLER dude!
Hey, let’s steal some cushions, ruin a pool and share our lice!
Hey, let’s steal lifesaving fire extinguishers and vandalize a gas station!
Hey, let’s wreck a highway and then put our smelly heads close together while driving on it, as if leaning over helps you hear better, you dicks!
Hey, let’s break into a cemetery and wreck it with our body odor!
