Rancid Ramblings of Austin...I hate hipsters.

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.

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.