VILE SMILES

I’ve experienced some hipster backlash hate mail courtesy of this awesome post.  Listen, you guys are a really neat niche subculture and I’m sorry that you are so easy to pee on…..which is so non-mainstream that you would probably like to guzzle it down and bathe it.  I need to extend some sort of olive branch in an attempt to win your sporadic readership.  I understand that you are using the computer at your token sellout friend’s house that embarrassingly has cable and internet, so I will act hastily. 

I want you to know that we are cut from the same fabric…..fabric with jizz and poop on it.  I have since de-fece’d myself but there was a good two years after college that I was like you.  I’m sure you didn’t know but a couple days ago was my 27^th birthday.  It’s been awhile since I chased a watered down Jim Beam with a Pabst but truth be told; you can’t shine shit and my true colors are hard to hide.  Ugh-I have no other obligation but to prove it to you in this comparison between 22 year old me and 27 year old me.  I’m willing to do this to find a shred of common ground. 

Me 27

Occupation: Corporate pig devil

Immediate superiors would tell you: “ Meets or exceeds goals given to him and can be left to work autonomous of supervision”  –fucking yawn fest 

Hair color: Brown -like the color of what is left of his shit-stained poser soul

Money goes in: checking account and 401k– ”checking” as in “Check this out; I’m the son of Satan”

Shops: online.—–for his Ouija boards 

Eats: chicken, beef jerkey, tuna, etc—I hope you see their faces in your sleep

Stays in Touch: Via phone, myspace, email.

Me 22

Occupation: Nonchalant Bartender—how fucking rad.  seriously.

Immediate superiors would tell you: “Is in the know when it comes to who is fucking who.  A real asset.”-Disco!

Hair color: Like blonde, kind of reddish too-flat ironed.  It looks good up or down but whatever.

Money goes in: This Morrissey bust that doubles as a piggy bank.  I got it for like a dollar at this shop you never heard of.

Shops:  “I seriously can’t tell you. But this suit I’m wearing was on a corpse at a wake.  Dude don’t ask” 

Eats: “Like I can’t even remember if I like really ate today.  Anyway, do you have a light?

Stays in touch: “You can call me but my phone is never on bc I’m always running out of minutes.  Bro I don’t even know my number.  Yeah—I totally want to masturbate to myself.”

It’s not much but trust in the fact that under this cold facade are the remains of somebody you would have totally loved to have been unemployed with at one time or another.  I hope going forward that we can be a bit more amicable towards eachother.  Besos-Me