It's been a while since I posted anything. I've had quite a busy summer full of adventure not unlike most of the time, but particularly adventurous this summer.
I have decided to post this because there are some hilarious things I need to get off my chest.
Recently I went to Austin (by way of Salado) to work and visit some friends who were in town from Ringling Bros. & Barnum and Bailey Circus. I've decided that Austin people should be rounded up and beaten with hockey sticks. I'm so sick of hipsters that I can't really write what I'd like to about them or I'd be arrested for making legitimate threats to society. One night in particular in Austin, a friend of mine (who was driving) decided to make a pit stop to visit his friends at a bar on the East side of Austin. The once ghetto neighborhood full of church going minorities has become the douche capital of Austin. The hipsters have run out all of the elderly, poor, and single parent families from the neighborhood in order to create really "super awesome venues for their really ironic indie bands." UGH.
I was dragged into this one bar that night but before I stepped out of the car, the entire sole of my combat boot literally melted off. (F*** Texas heat) So, in my hand was my threadbare wallet and the bottom of my shoe. We walked down Hipster Lane and I felt, naturally, like the most uncool person there. That is how the hipsters want you to feel by the way. They love it when you second guess your Target tank top and cargo pants. It makes them feel a whole lot better about wearing their tattered western snap shirts, 1920's loafers, and a faux derby hats.
We get into this douche bar and I immediately started asking around for duct tape. (**see shoe issue above for reasons) There were about 45 "Rockabilly" chicks with sleeve tats trying to order manly beverages at the bar, 10 bearded early 20's guys who were ringers for the homeless in South Dallas, and around 37 of the worst offenders.... INDIE BAND GROUPIES. There was a band playing outside, next door to another band playing outside, that was next door to the other band playing outside who were all playing THE SAME SHIT. You could've blindfolded the groupies and transported them to the next yard bar and they wouldn't have known the difference even after taking the blindfold off.
Everyone was drinking ironic beer and wearing ironic glasses and being ironically gregarious... which means they weren't fully gregarious, just enough to be ironic.
I sat down at a table outside to calmly and very whitely listen to this band. (White people are so boring) There's a reason why black people think white people are lame... they are. A bunch of white people at an Indie band concert will all be sitting around sipping on Lonestar Beer or Pabst (because it's ironic) and they will be talking about how green they have gone, or how they know someone who is a "film maker" and is really "ahead of the curve." It sucks. I was sitting at this table and this guy in front of me turns around in an ironic way and says "Hey, Paul... (as he sticks out his hand to shake mine)..." I say, "Hi. My name is Melodee." He says, "great, great really great. It's a pretty great night tonight, agree?" That's when I notice that he's wearing a f*cking eye patch with ironic thick rimmed glasses, a derby, a pencil mustache, and the best part... HE HAS A WALKING CANE THAT HE DOESN'T NEED.
The first thing that went through my mind was I needed to beat him with that cane. A bit of violence to all the hipsters would really wake 'em up. They need a solid ass beating because they are all pussies. All of them. They all had their ironic girlfriends with them... Ironic because they are plain. They have plain "natural" hair, no makeup, and wear clothes that look like pregnancy dresses. It's ugly. It's really damned ugly.
I thought I wouldn't curse in this blog but I can't help myself. I can't. Blame the hipsters because it's their fault, everything is.
After about 45 minutes of sitting there listening to this indie band musically masturbate on the stage... they decided to make a joke about how they were musically masturbating on the stage because it's querky to "call it out like that." It's the same type of humor that the news segment of SNL is doing now. When the actors on SNL look into the camera as if to say "hey guys, this is like, um, funny right? Or not, but it's whatev'..." It's like there is a movement of understated schmut that has infiltrated real life and is wearing the banner of "progressive." It's not progressive. We've progressed past the music of these indie bands, indie films, and indie clothes. We have. People use to wear three piece suits and ball gowns to see concerts back in the 1920's and the concerts involved a 30 piece big bands playing complicated arrangements...OH and they were INVENTING A NEW GENRE OF MUSIC CALLED JAZZ! This indie shit is nothing more than slobbered up Dylan rip offs with a dash of Mac Garageband loops. It's such horseshit. If you throw in a banjo, ukelele and a tuba then you have a really "progressive sound." Ugh.
Anyhow... So Austin... The last time I went to Austin and actually partied there was when I was on the Ringling show and we went to some kick ass blues bars down there. In the last 2 years, the hipsters have taken over all the bars and have made the gritty reality of struggling blues musicians into middle class hipsters who formed indie bands from their Capitol One cards and shopped at Buffalo Exchange to find their costumes for daily life... They dress like the thing they like- and what they like is rehashed overpriced shit.
I tried to talk to the people at my table but realized that this certain block was coming over me when I was trying to be social. It was like an arch angel put his hands over my mouth and whispered into my ear, "don't, just don't." So I'd find myself saying things in response to being asked something really invasive about who I am like this: "Yeah, I just...(trailing off) live, well, in Dallas I guess.... anyway... it's hot out here."
That, THAT was the best I could come up with? Me? I'm full of exciting shit to say and THAT was the best I had? THAT? Yes, because the synapses in my brain stopped firing the second I walked into that place. I have to say that the entire time all this was going on, I was holding the bottom of my shoe in my hand. The screwed up thing is... nobody noticed. They probably thought it was some sort of recycled handbag from a local artist who died of a heroine overdose back in the 90's or some shit. I don't know what they thought or didn't think but it was very disconcerting to hold the entire bottom of a swat team boot in my left hand while I was being asked if I liked various unknown indie films or "docs"... (that's short for the ever so tiring word to say: documentary.) That's another thing they do better than anyone- they shorten words to words that stand for other things... ex. doctor/docs... documentary/docs? F**K YOU.
If I had one dollar for every time I heard "I'm a filmmaker" at that bar, I'd be the richest asshole in Garland, Texas. Guess what? YOU AREN'T FILM MAKERS.
They don't have an original thought in their bodies. Not one. Everything about these people is unoriginal. You know how I know that? They all look exactly the same, talk the same, listen to the same, do the same, marry the same, and react the same. Same.
They all go "back to school" at the age of 30 to study liberal arts and everyone says "good for you..." as they have their self satisfied smiles as they are patted on the back by the douchebaggery surrounding them. NO, not "good for you." SHAME on you. You are floundering around trying to be artists when you are really just rehashed hacks of a greater generation that is long since past. Find something interesting to do, say or think that doesn't involve a "cause."
The other extreme of Austin is the shit kickin' "get 'er done" closed minded truck drivin' blowholes who cut you off on I-35 in a half ton pickup truck with a lift kit. These people hate everyone that isn't white and proud. They suck just as hard but they don't go out in droves like the hipsters. The Hipsters are like termite infestation... they are attracted to old wooden places and dingy clothes.
Anyhow... that's my story. Did I get my shoe fixed? Yes. However, I didn't get it fixed until I returned to the trailer at Ringling to see my friend Laura who works in wardrobe. I had a dejected look on my face and showed up at her trailer holding my shoe. This is something she has seen me do before when I was on the show with Ringling... Being who she is, she had Barge glue and I sat outside and glued it back on..... backwards. F**k me. I figured it was like a metaphor for how I was to emotionally deal with the whole night.... a part of my spirit fell off, but I fixed it by accepting that I might be a little bit backwards.
