You just made my list!

Just when you thought hipsters had run out of ways to be ironic, those geniuses figured out a way to tap into one more ridiculous trend… the beer belly. According to The New York Times, looking like a fat tub of shit is now cool. The New York City dump is about to be flooded with useless skinny jeans.

I see a problem though. The fat trend is not going to work very well with the trend to be vegan. Then there’s smoking, a habit many hipsters use as a way make their body odor even worse. Smoking has been the skinny hipster’s friend for many years but it could really slow the transformation from cool heroin skeleton to beer-guzzling bubba. I’m thinking a new industry will have to grow around this trend. I’m going to start a “diet” magazine called “Brooklyn Gut” for hipsters looking for tips on weight gain and beer belly shaping. My first article will be titled “Critical Mass Won’t Give You That Critical ASS: Time to Give Up Your Bike.”

SHIT, what will happen to American Apparel? They are going to be working day and night making XXXL ironic shiny disco pants and satin jackets! Luckily their employees are so well-paid and have the best working… SHUT UP!

Is this why Kevin Federline is so fucking hugely fucking god damn fucking fat now? Is K-Fed a trend-setter?

I once ordered an edamame appetizer at one of these pretentious restaurants and when the waitress brought six individual soybeans to our table a single tear fell from my eye, because I realized I just paid $13 for six soybeans. The next time I went to this restaurant I noticed the menu now included “One soybean seasoned with a single tear.” Clearly they had stolen this idea from me.

Take your tiny, pretentious dollhouse-sized food and shove it up your oh-so-hip ass. Do you realize some of these places actually sell scented air. AIR! My grandfather did not storm the beach at Normandy so some turd in a $300 T-shirt could eat one grain of sea salt with a side of almond-scented air. And don’t even get me started on molecular gastronomy. Don’t!

I’m not happy after a meal unless I feel like I might die. I want to feel HEAR my stomach struggling to sort through all the meat and fat I just crammed down my greasy mouth. A meal really isn’t worth eating unless you need to shower immediately afterward.

This is what food should look like…

You know who wore Members Only jackets? My dad in 1985. You know who looked cool in his Members Only jacket? Nobody.

Nobody ever looked cool in a Members Only jacket but compared to this hipster turd, my dad looked like fucking Burt Reynolds. At least my dad was trying to look awesome, unlike hipsters who want you to believe they look like assholes on purpose. Ironic hipsters think they can hide the fact that they are dorks by making you believe they are dorky on purpose. American Apparel has based most of their products on this theory.

Well I for one have had enough of this bullshit, so ironic hipsters beware because I’m going to be shaving your mustaches and shredding your Members Only bullshit the next time I see you.

“We will not be quiet!
We will not try to blend in!
We will not disappear in the background or play second fiddle!
We’re not like the others, we won’t ever try to be!”

You might think this battle cry was overheard at a recent gay marriage rally but NO, you stupid idiot, that’s your mayonnaise talking, bitch!

Fuck you world, I love Miracle Whip and if you don’t like it you can eat my creamy, white shit. Don’t try and tell ME and MY generation what condiments we should eat. Take your old man sandwich spread and shove it up your old man ass because guess what motherfucker, I’m going to eat Miracle Whip with a spoon while getting a mohawk. Look dude, I don’t care if I spill a little M-Whip on my Ron Paul poster, because that’s the way it goes man when you are fucking vibing on a jar of the Whip! Now if you will excuse me, I have to comb my ironic mustache and down a little Whip before going to my bike messenger job. Jealous?

You can have my Miracle Whip when you pry it from my COLD, DEAD, FAT HAND!

The Miracle Whip commercial that tells you what’s up, bitch! It’s on Facebook because that’s how my generation rolls!!!

Don’t be boring! You wouldn’t understand, old Man.

Fuck Threadless and their oh-so-clever bullshit! I hate the cult of Threadless.

If you do not know what Threadless is, take a moment to high-five yourself for being awesome. Threadless is a website where people send in their cutesy little t-shirt designs and an online community of lonely teens and aging hipsters with tiny glasses vote on which crappy doodle gets produced on actual t-shirts. Once these shirts are produced all the Threadless zombies rejoice and cum in their panties because every week they can buy more shirts with precious scribbles on them.

Do I think every Threadless shirt sucks? No, but I do honesty hate 98% of them. Do I think anyone who owns a Threadless shirt sucks? No, but I really can’t stand it when people are obsessed with them.

You know how there are just some things in life you hate but can’t quite explain why? Well this is not one of those things for me, I fucking hate Threadless.

Fucking fuck am I busy this week! I don’t have time to do anything good so I’m taking the easy way out and letting someone else do the work for me.

I hate Ironic hipsters!

Sorry for being lame today.

Look, I just want to shake your hand, not dance the forbidden Lambada with you.

I was in a band for years that primarily appealed to a male audience that was usually younger than I am. Often times after we saw a hundred faces and rocked them all, those faces would line up to tell us how fucking awesome we were. They were right. Maybe I’m a fuddy-duddy, but I used to PANIC when some young DJ-type guy would stretch his hand towards me with a smile on his face because I knew I was about to fail at being “cool.”

I could always tell right away from the angle of the hand that this was not going to be my grandfather’s handshake. Oh no my friend, this handshake was going to involve all my concentration and would most likely end in a one-armed, back punching, bro hug. If not a hug, it would at the very least, require me to anticipate what his hand was going to do next in a lame attempt to mimic his movements, thus maintaining my status as the coolest guy in the room. If we locked hands in a soul shake would it end there, or do we have to do that finger-snap thing as we release? I’m sweating just thinking about it. Not only do I not know how to do that finger snap thing, I don’t fucking want to know how! I refuse to practice. I refuse to learn.

I bet a Guy Fieri handshake lasts like 45 minutes and ends shirtless. I have to go throw up.

I am fighting back the barf in my throat after searching for these photos. This is going to be a short post because 1) what can really be said about these douchebag turds that you can’t figure out just by looking at their lame asses and 2) the barf.

(old man rant warning)
These kids today think they invented all this shit but we were the first ones to walk around looking like complete assholes in the 80’s. Let it die! It was a playful mistake in 1984 but now it can only be described as lame.

I’m going to go listen to the Cure and punch myself in the face.