Saturday, November 12, 2011

I Hate Hipsters (Part Deux)

I promised you all a second rant.... Kristen Walker takes the wheel.... Note: The dialog below is actual text messages between Kristen and I. Nothing added, nothing taken away. Enjoy.



As a comment on the topic of hipsters in Mel's previous post – which is perfectly spot-on – I will include the EXACT verbiage of a recent text conversation between Mel and I. It began with us bitching about a former mutual friend of ours who was being flaky and difficult. I started off the rant. Please note I am including THE EXACT WORDS, verbatim. A slash like this: / means a separate text.


Oh, and in order to protect his privacy, we’ll call the guy we’re talking about at first “Bunghole Jones.”


Kristen: He’s a hipster. He wants social interaction to be complicated cause then that proves he’s busy and important… If he just said hey let’s meet here at this time, he would look “simple” and “easy.” Hipsters want to look like they have a lot of shit going on in their lives They would admit to dropping a baby before they would admit to being free on a Saturday night.


Mel: You are so right. Bunghole Jones honestly is probably sitting in a bar by himself right now. / He probably just got out of a “venue” of like Mumford & Sons and is drinking Buttered Whiskey Tart or some gourmet drink and talking about how the new iPhone is going to have a vintage photo setting option because 45 mm films was always superior but like people in more progressive places like Holland are recycling our film canisters to make bicycle pedals for impoverished Sudanese youth.


Kristen: Nailed it. Btw Jackknife Thoom. (This is an unrelated reference but I included it for accuracy.) / No I mean you really nailed it so hard. / He definitely just saw Mumford & Sons. Somewhere in his life is a girl with brown hair who enjoys crafting and is “not looking for a serious relationship.” She has a bicycle with a basket on the front and her favorite band is Wilco.


Mel: Yes, and she loves those canvas peasant shoes called Thoms because all proceeds go to Africa. Just somewhere in Africa… Cause it’s got poor people without iPads.


Kristen: She likes wine, cats, yoga, cardigan sweaters, yarn, IKEA, sushi, American Apparel, scarves, Buffalo Exchange, brunch, Dexter, Tom’s shoes, anime, salad, and Volvo. / Damn dude Thoms shoes jinx.


Mel: …”yeah so pretty much I just made this beret for you Bunghole Jones. I know you don’t wear hats like that but I was whatev’ and yeah…” (she stands pigeon toed and looks like ensemble from Les Miserables) / Her name is Sadie but not really… it’s like Alexa but she likes to be called either Sadie or Al.


Kristen: She has center parted long brown hair with the kind of headband that goes around the head instead of over it. She pulls a slouchy cardigan down over her fingers. / Oh it’s so perfect.


Mel: Over her fingers is so nailed… I hate her.


Kristen: She says, “That’s so Raven” sometimes and people think it’s hilarious. She has a cat named after a character on Glee. She has two roommates and one of them is a dude. She has a really messy bedroom which you’re supposed to find “quirky.” She makes cupcakes.


Mel: She fucking always makes cupcakes… They probably are various “insects” like Ladybugs, Ants (3 cupcakes connected by brown frosting) or her super famous scarynotscary Spidercakes that she named Jeeves or something fucking horseshitfuckingfuckfuckng gay like that… And she “giggles”… “that makes my tummy giggle.” Her fucking fag hipster friends think that is really “amusing.”


Kristen: “That makes my tummy giggle.” Oh fuck that.


Mel: Oh fuck that so hard.


Kristen: She has watching parties for tv shows like True Blood or some shit. She has a fag friend and they call each other honey and darling and kiss each other and stuff. She calls her girl friends her “girlfriends” and will say “hey beautiful” or “Hey hot mama” to them. She is always planning her backpacking trip to Europe. “Drew said Germany was the shiz.” At parties she ironically dances to Snoop Dogg with a red plastic cup of booze in one hand… Probably Grey Goose and cranberry.


Mel: I am going to kill her. / She is so real.


Kristen: She is. She’s everywhere. / Her name is Leslie but everyone calls her Les. / Or yeah Alexa “Al.” / Or Natalie “Nat.”


Mel: Nat


Kristen: “Heeeey it’s Nat-Nat!” / She has at some point referred to herself as Natastrophe. Her old MySpace quote was “a charming mess…” / She loves Tim Burton.


Mel: Nat Nat. Oh god… Aqua Thoom. (This is unrelated.)


Kristen: She loves Jane Austen books.


Mel: She likes woolen tights.


Kristen: Oh yeah with ballet flats or ankle booties. Wedges. / Shove Thoom. / Gets me. / Urban Outfitters


Mel: I just read one of your Thooms that got me… Snackpack


Kristen: It’s strong. / It’s ridiculous.


(We go on about Thooms for a while and then we get back to Nat Nat.)


Mel: Nat Nat.


Kristen: Oh God. I hate her.


Mel: Yes. The cupcake thing. Dude. Dude…


Kristen: “That makes my tummy giggle…” / She is 24 and for her 25th birthday she wants to have a pub crawl… On bicycles.


Mel: Pub crawl. Yeah and she goes to Zombie crawls on 6th Street in Austin in December. / She is empowered by not shaving her arm pits… Much. / She loathes cigarettes but smokes weed and does Salvia.


Kristen: Yeah she has one tattoo. On her wrist. / She went through a Sailor Moon phase. She still has collectibles but now she keeps them in the bathroom. / She has a photo somewhere on her Facebook of her wearing a beanie and eating a lollipop. / She won’t get pedicures cause she feels bad for the Asians. / She wants to insist that people take off their shoes when they come in the house but she’s afraid people might not want to. / On her way to Austin with friends they have a ritual. The first horses they see they yell “HORSEYS!” And then giggle. /


Mel: Omg… laughing in rage. The wrist tat is blacklight.


Kristen: Yeah it is. It so is.


Mel: She carries around a blacklight laser keychain just to show people.


Kristen: That hurts.

(An interlude.)


Mel: Recorded message from Nat Nat… “Hey it’s Nat Nat boo! Heh heh so yeah what’s the what what? I’m just relaxed listening some old Bowie tunes and make my girlfriend’s man’s puppy a sweater awwww right?! Yeah I’m pretty awesome heh heh but shout out to your Nat!”


Kristen: omg. Oh fuck you. Fuck you so hard.


Mel: Ha! / “hey it’s Nat Nat. Um. So. Imma’ make it rain cause I just finished your man’s puppy’s sweater! Oh Em Jee! It’s bomb! Heh. Your man is gonna love me more! Heh I’m just joshin like a josher can player. Anywiz, I’m done-zo and it’s fun-zo up in this biatch so shout at a Nat!”


Kristen: I am gonna stop talking to you forever now. I am filled with rage at your inner Nat.


Mel: It’s so nailed.


Kristen: Hey kids it’s Natty! Leave me a mizz-jizz and I’ll hitcha back!


Mel: Logan’s hipster voice mail outgoing message: “Hello?... Wha?... I can’t hear you fools? Jay Kay… It’s Natteroma’s Vee Emm! Leave a message after the beep Beep! Heh Jay Kay! … (real beep)”


Kristen: Tell Logan I said to go to hell.


Mel: I did and he laughed hard. He says “why did the hipster burn her mouth?”


Kristen: Why?


Mel: “cause she ate mac n chee before it was cool.”


Kristen: Omg.


Mel: It’s deep.


Kristen: It really is. / No it is.

I Hate Buffalo Exchange Hipsters

If anyone has ever decided to go to Buffalo Exchange to sell your clothes, let me advice you on a few things you should know about before taking on the rage you'll experience upon entering into that vortex of Hipster Hell.
Recently I walked into Buffalo Exchange(Greenville Avenue Location in Dallas, Texas) to sell my clothes/coats/shoes that I no longer needed in my life. I remembered how terrible it was but somehow I felt strong enough to take a risk that day and "just do it."

When you walk into Llama Trading Company...oh I mean... Buffalo Exchange...you will see at least 34 outfits on dummies that you are pretty sure have bedbugs burrowed into the fibers. These "super dope outfits" are showcased so that you, the seller, will have a template to go by when you try and sell any of your NICE clothes there. They only want the ugliest, brownish, beige, silken, a-symetrical, ill fitted, plaid, shredded, stained, ironic clothes that you can find from your 63 year old gay uncle's garage tubs. Your best bet is going to a busted ass ghetto thrift store in Buttfuck, Texas and buying the shittiest shit they have there for a dollar and then taking it to Buffalo Exchange.... they will give you 1000 dollars for something that comes with a dead rat stuck inside of the pant leg.

If you bring them clothes that are new w/tags, tailored, awesome, expensive, Italian designer labels, some Hipster with a Eggplant colored beany and "ironic thick rimmed glasses" will say, "Yah, uh, we really don't take this wash anymore. Yah it is not really what is offered fashion here so yah, but hey, I am sorry, but yah, yah... " Fuck you. You wanna know what? I'll tell you what. I sold THE SHITTIEST COAT I HAVE to them for 40 bucks. Out of the entire stack of nice stuff, they chose THE SHITTIEST COAT I HAVE and bought it for 400% more than what I paid for it. It had a collar on it that was misshaped (Rhombus looking shape with one corner of the collar that hung down past the first button), a pocket complete w/ hole in it the size of your fist, and the buttons didn't line up at all- at least 3 inches difference between button n' hole. They bought THAT. Hard. I had a pair of '7 Jeans' that were worth about 140 bucks, like new, and another pair of Joyce Jeans with the tag still on them (155 dollars) BUT they chose the rat coat.
The Eggplant beany guy with the ironic glasses said the following, "Yah, now this little gem here(the coat) is something we are interested in. I'm going to price this based on the desirability factor alone so.... 40 dollars hun? Is that yah, is that uhm groove with you hun?"

Desirability Factor. So.... they price things based on perspective. What a solid system of business! Seems legit. Assholes. Meanwhile this asshole was "training" this new breed of Hipster... the Blackster. Black people are WAY too awesome to be Hipsters. The Blacksters are the ones who look a bit like the Chocolate Rain guy from YouTube fame mixed with Spike Lee or Bob Dylan. Anyhow... this guy was training one of these Blacksters to "know what to buy from the customer." This trainee was going to buy everything of mine until the Eggplant Thick Rimmed Irony walked into the mix. He told me that I needed to "wash those jeans before they would buy them." THEY HAVE TAGS ON THEM! I pointed that out and then he said, "Well, (smug chuckle) I guess what I mean is that our staple is really dark wash skinny jeans and this style is kinda yesterday." NO. Fucking No. If you want to get technical, the skinny jean is a bastardized bi-product of 1986. If you were to catch on fire in the pant region you would die trying to get your foot out of the bottom of the tightly tapered pant leg. Trust me, I know. I got out of my skinny jeans by the skin of my teeth one time when I spilled some gasoline on my leg at the pump and then later that night smoked and an ember ignited a'top my right thigh. Skinny Jeans are not performance gear. If you can't exit your clothing in less than 20 seconds, it could kill you in certain circumstances. I've done the physics on this. I use to time myself getting in and out of clothes "just in case" and 20 seconds is primo for survival. (this was before I started taking my retard pills... life is different now and I've thrown out my stop watches)

I watched these assholes buy another Hipster's clothes... every item... and you know what? One of the skirts had a safety pinned-on FOX TAIL on the back of it

Sooooo.... I can just pin some non-sequitor shit on a brown butt stained diagonal cut skirt and you'll give me 50 bucks for it? Suckers. You haven't met the Super Jew.... I will take all their money because the joke is now on them. Ironic isn't it.

I went to the thrift store immediately following the adventure to the Ironic Isle of Super Dope Hipsters and bought the ugliest shit in the store. I'm currently ripping apart my stuffed animals from childhood and I'll be safety pinning some CareBear feet to a shredded beige satin dirty slip..... cause' I'm gonna be rich biaaaatch! Some fucking asshole in the "Dallas scene" will be wearing a butt stained thrift store slip with CareBear feet safety pinned to it and someone will say to that bullshit hipster, "Chloe you are really authentic and super dope chicka." (that is said in the most white girl Ivy League school accent you can muster up... wearing a similar outfit with no form or shape)

If the aliens come (which they will) and they happen to land anywhere near Buffalo Exchange, West Village, Angelika Movie Theatre, Magnolia Pictures, Exposition Park, Whole Fucking Foods, or Taco Diner, they will walk out of the craft and a Hipster will approach them and say, "Hey fellow, I dig your super stacked rainbow starship ma'an. Want to join Occupy Dallas? We are gonna hang out in our really expensive REI tent and stick it to capitalism bro... and my girlfriend makes some dope ass Star Wars cupcakes and my tight ass peep Chloe can knit you like a sweet scarf or whatev' ..."

At which point I hope that the GammaRay8900.Zark Gun will NOT be used and that the alien will decide to just punch that asshole in the fucking mouth.

Listen to me though... I'm talkin' about aliens n' shit... fucking what! My point is that I hate Buffalo Exchange Hipsters. I'm going to open up a store with the money I get from selling them butt-stained slips with CareBear feet safety pinned to them and it's gonna be called, "Llama Trading Company." I'll make them think that all the money goes to some Llama fund in to save fucking Llamas or some shit and I'll buy all my merch' (yeah that's another thing hipsters do is abbreviate all words)... from the shithole Mexican owned shops in Garland (canvas peasant shoes, dirty brown oversized sweaters, slips...) and I'll share my profits with the Mexican store owners and we will build fucking waterparks and carnivals and drink Corona and shoot our guns into the night sky and buy Esmerelda's tamales because "she workeen wreel harr en dem," and bounce houses, fat adorable mexican babies will get candy.... Oh it will be the revolution!

Ja ja ja ja ja ja (evil Mexican laugh)

Anyone want in on this business idea?

I've got more to say about Hipsters but I'm going to tag in my comedy partner on the next phase of hipster rant.

Anyhow... that's my 2 cent slip for the day.