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" Today, I saw Logan VanArtisan; the 29 year old Wrigley’s Doublemint Gum shaped, cupcake blog creative assistant’s assistant intern, apartment hunting in a $2000-$2500 a month homogenized section of Brooklyn with his visiting enabling parents from Iowa. So I gave him a right cross to the moustache, strapped him to his long board and tied it to the back of a cruelty-filled Boar’s Head truck. End of story."
Today, I saw Cooper the shish kebab skewer-armed, red bearded, sustainable urban bee keeper heading over to the Lower North East Williamsburg air guitar championships for a gritty Brooklyn experience. So I restrained his arms and legs with 2-ply toilet paper and beat him half to death with a 50 lb sack of imported cacao beans that takes both costume wearing Iowanite Mast Bros to lift. End of story.
Thanks for the recommendation. While I don't agree with all the comments on that blog, I do understand where they come from and I found myself roaring with laughter at some of those comments -- they have a grain of truth.
Here's a fun definition of a hipster (not mine): when a pretentious, romantic outcast tourist (modernized, of course) decides to live in the city and bring along/impose their idea of reality/Utopia upon the shoulders of bewildered, realistic/cynical natives.
I don't mind 'em too much, but I'm glad that I don't live too close to 'em. And the city doesn't mind 'em too much either: if only for economic reasons (they seem to want to pay, and get taxed, a lot more than I do for "basic necessities").
Hilarious. I have seen these too Stagger. Just fun fantasy of course and creative writing. kind of like the writing they do in their trendy coffee shops with their beards while sipping a 100% Organic, Fair trade coffee with their laptops while planning their evening of playing kickball, farming where farming should not be done and crowding the streets pouting about how cool and different they are on a Tuesday afternoon. Ugh. The ones wearing sneakers with no socks and capri pants are worth 50 points by the way!
Brilliant! I like how the person respected the modernity of today's librarian by being specific about the year of the style. Although a librarian of today is most likely to a be a hipster who is wearing a 1958 version of glasses. So in the future we would have to combine both years to define the style. So many Michigan, Kansas and Indiana transplants are entering Master's of Library Science programs, it's not even funny.
I will admit it is funny and well written and creative. Would we think this blog was equally funny if this was also part of it:
"Today I saw 23 year old Shanequa Jackson in a mostly gentrified area of West Harlem, squeezed into a stretched-to-the-limit pink jumpsuit stained with fried chicken grease from breakfast at Popeyes yesterday morning, and her 4 kids (ages 6 months to 7 years) Monique, Lil'Tyrone, Mercedes, and Kiesha. They were leaving their $300 a month 4 bedroom Section 8 apartment to shop for $150 new Air Jordan's for Lil'Tyrone, and to drop off Mercedes to see her father at the shelter. I heard her mention something about wanting to get more food stamps now that she is pregnant, and how "these white fools think they moving into my neighborhood", so I grabbed her by her weave (careful not to get cut by the razors in it of course) and flung her McDouble cheese a$$ onto the 3 train to Brooklyn. Her kids were too busy stealing grape soda from the bodega to notice, and they ran away scared and crying when I told them I would teach them to read and write...works every time! A couple of her friends ran to help her (after they finished their 40s though), and at first I was blinded by all the bling in their mouths, but I stopped them dead in their tracks when I said the three words they all fear: Need a job? End of story!"
I will admit it is funny and well written and creative. Would we think this blog was equally funny if this was also part of it:
"Today I saw 23 year old Shanequa Jackson in a mostly gentrified area of West Harlem, squeezed into a stretched-to-the-limit pink jumpsuit stained with fried chicken grease from breakfast at Popeyes yesterday morning, and her 4 kids (ages 6 months to 7 years) Monique, Lil'Tyrone, Mercedes, and Kiesha. They were leaving their $300 a month 4 bedroom Section 8 apartment to shop for $150 new Air Jordan's for Lil'Tyrone, and to drop off Mercedes to see her father at the shelter. I heard her mention something about wanting to get more food stamps now that she is pregnant, and how "these white fools think they moving into my neighborhood", so I grabbed her by her weave (careful not to get cut by the razors in it of course) and flung her McDouble cheese a$$ onto the 3 train to Brooklyn. Her kids were too busy stealing grape soda from the bodega to notice, and they ran away scared and crying when I told them I would teach them to read and write...works every time! A couple of her friends ran to help her (after they finished their 40s though), and at first I was blinded by all the bling in their mouths, but I stopped them dead in their tracks when I said the three words they all fear: Need a job? End of story!"
The above makes no sense. Your post is so complex that it made me super thirsty for a bottle of good ol' Pabst Blue Ribbon, or perhaps I'll get me some Rollin' Rock.
Seems like you would be a great supporter of the Tuskegee Experiment.
I will admit it is funny and well written and creative. Would we think this blog was equally funny if this was also part of it:
"Today I saw 23 year old Shanequa Jackson in a mostly gentrified area of West Harlem, squeezed into a stretched-to-the-limit pink jumpsuit stained with fried chicken grease from breakfast at Popeyes yesterday morning, and her 4 kids (ages 6 months to 7 years) Monique, Lil'Tyrone, Mercedes, and Kiesha. They were leaving their $300 a month 4 bedroom Section 8 apartment to shop for $150 new Air Jordan's for Lil'Tyrone, and to drop off Mercedes to see her father at the shelter. I heard her mention something about wanting to get more food stamps now that she is pregnant, and how "these white fools think they moving into my neighborhood", so I grabbed her by her weave (careful not to get cut by the razors in it of course) and flung her McDouble cheese a$$ onto the 3 train to Brooklyn. Her kids were too busy stealing grape soda from the bodega to notice, and they ran away scared and crying when I told them I would teach them to read and write...works every time! A couple of her friends ran to help her (after they finished their 40s though), and at first I was blinded by all the bling in their mouths, but I stopped them dead in their tracks when I said the three words they all fear: Need a job? End of story!"
The difference here is that you're stereotyping a particular race while the hipster blogs are making fun of a lifestyle regardless of race that these so-called "hipsters" actually embrace.
I'm curious of the whole guypri's. Everything is without socks lol. Mostly the whole "style" is the anti cool. 80's flamboyant mixed with backwoods flannel inspired styles. I don't hate some of it, but I laugh at guys trying to be cool hiding behind Raybans on a train at 11pm.
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I have seen them.
