I really am not into McDonalds. Its pretty crappy all around. I really only hit up like 2-3 different fast food places once every 8 weeks or so… But today my girl wanted some McDonalds so I thought why the fuck not. Now if you have ever been to a McDonalds in the ghetto, where we live, people there are pretty much useless. I dont think they could even get into the Army as firing practice targets.. they would fuck that up too.
So I go to the one by Fulton Mall, ah yes the mecca of ghetto fabulousness, to pick up some food. Now this place is huge, like 10 registers, probably 20 employees, etc. Now it being a Sunday afternoon it was pretty packed, everyone just got done buying their Fubu and Akademics hoodies for next winter or knock off grillz, and the lines were 8 people deep. I am on line with my bike (not a fixie fucktard) and I finally get to the front and am ready to get my order and get the fuck out. All of a sudden this big ass fat bitch comes out of the corner behind the register with her stupid manager tag on and asks to speak to me. I figured it was because I might have been the tenth white customer they had and I won a free shake or something. No, no shake, instead she tells me how I cant have my bike in there and wont serve me. She goes on and on for 5 minutes who the store gets a ticket and fine if the McDonalds inspector comes and sees me. Are you fucking kidding me. I wait on line for a while, get to the front and she wont take my order because some McDonalds inspector is gonna come to Flatbush Avenue to fine her for my bike. I really wanted to throw a shake at her but guess what… I coudln’t get shit from her fat ass or any of the fat ass bitches there. So I just cursed her out and left and went to the next McDoanlds 4 blocks away. I walk in with my bike and guess what they say… “No Such Policy Exists”. and there is not McDonalds Inspector.. interesting… so Miss Fatty Cakes thinks the McDOnalds inspector exists… I think I should go in next week and tell her her shoe laces are untied and see if she flops over like Grimace on NoDoz.
Today I had to entertain some clients from Hong Kong who wanted to visit Williamsburg and see some of my work. So I thought a nice place would be Blackbird Parlour on north 6th and Bedford. Yes its that new hipster cafe but I figured if they wanted to see what this Burg shit was about why not take them there. So I walked in about 20 minutes early and decided to grab an iced tee and lsiten to some music. Right off the bat this douche bag barista, with bad blackwork tattoos, tells me that after I place my order that it is for “to go only” because I didn’t request table service and points to some sign about index card size. Ok you know what, fuck you bitch. You know this is your sad life of talking to H Boys as they come in to talk about their newest American Apparel shorts they bought to go-go in at Trash. So I just grab my tea, out my headphones on (I really didnt feel like listening to MGMT for the thousanth time), and wait for my clients and partner. As I sat in the window area I finally got why everyone wants to come to this place….
When you look out the window its alost like being at the Natural History Museum. You know those exhibits with the stuffed animals behind glass and the little minatures. But instead of Gazelles and the reenactment of Gettysburg you were watching hipster scum at its finest. I actually started to make a game of it. Like which bitch looks the most cracked out on bad speed and is going to her PR job, or which one of these guys is likely to carry more strains of Herpes than the CDC knows what to do with. Although my favorite had to be picking out the most ridiculous Fixie outfit combo. I think i will go with the guy that had the graphite frnt mag Pasta Boy bike with the spandex cut offs and the teeshirt that said “White Trash”. I need to find this guy and buy him a Snickers or some shit. Although I would imagine he wouldnt know what to do with it since it’s not imported.
I loved the first Spiderman movie… the next 2.. not so fucking much. I actually even think this movie is better than 2 and 3… Topher you peaked in the 70s… you suck douche…
Isn’t the Club Photographer one of the most interesting breeds of animal? They go to parties, pretend to be 5-8 years younger than they are, try to get their hands on boobs, and all so they can get pics of drunk hipster trash bitches on their blogs. I wonder how much real pussy they get. I can imagine they only get “boob-graze”. Like when you were 13 years old and the 16 year old hot girl from the neighborhood gave you a hug and because you were so short her boobs in her tight teeshirt grazed your face. You held onto that memory until all your pubes grew in and you made it to second base with the next girl you hooked up with. Wondering if that 16 year old girl from your neighborhoods boobs felt this good if she gave you the chance to feel them. I bet thats what the club photographers must hold onto when they cry themselves to sleep thinking about that one time they sucked dick for coke in the bathroom of Rififi.
I have one particular club photographer I love clowning on, most of you who know me have seen it. My goal everytime I see him is to spit on him somewhere. Without fail I do it every time. My current record is six times in one night. The crowning achievement was when he was talking to my friend and I and I just spit on his shoes and smiled at him. I am really gonna have to top myself next time, I think his face makes a good target…
Thats pretty much how I think they should be treated. So next time you see one, just crank a good spit wad at them. I am sure they will thank you later.
I grew up in Brooklyn and had more Pumas and Nike’s then a cargo container as a kid so I have an appreciation for nostalgia. But what is the deal with streetwear nerds. I really feel that they have become the new drag queens of urban parties. I mean they walk in, everyone looks, but not for too long, and makes fun of them the entire time they are downing Sparks and trying to not crease their limited edition {insert hipster brand here} tee and New Era hat they paid more than I make in a week for. I think they should have their own sections at clubs, just like drag queens and trannies do. That way we don’t have to feel like we are being visually attacked by an 80s acid flashback. Also, why are 90% of them Asian. Is it because their long lost cousin is working in some sweatshop they need to support the industry. A sorta way of saying “Yo, I am giving money back to my peeps so Quin Chi can buy a pencil to fill out their immunization card”
I grew up reading comics, Marvel era goodness, and loved them. I even thought I coudl draw them, but I really sucked at it. Although I passed my sophmore HS French class by drawing really shitty cartoons of the other kids in my class on the back of my daily quizes. My teacher thought they were funny, although badly drawn, and gave me extra credit. Brent found this really bad cartoon (via Rebel 8) that reminded me of those drawings and how I feel right now…
So everyone and their mom has a blog. I used to have one too. And I pretty much miss it, and so do a few other people. So I thought it was time to revive it and start a new one. So here it is. Why “fIXIES aRE fOR pUSSIES”… because they are. Anyone in their right mind knows that fixies are the gayest thing ever. And I don’t mean in like a homo way but just gay. WTF would anyone who lives in a metropolitan city rock a fixie… oh yeah so ugly dudes and hipster girls can get laid.
So that what this blog is all about… hipster scum, gentrification, and culture hacking. So expect to see som einteresting things coming out of my fat Brooklyn mouth because unlike 90% of WIlliamsburg I was actually born here…
