Hate '08 (formerly 'dear santa, all I want for xmas is a soul')
10. Barbara Streisand records. At least 3 of every 10 records in any thrift store, anywhere in the world, are by this ragamuffin.
9. The goatee. Goatees are kind of like people wearing sweatpants in public to me. I don’t know whether to laugh out loud or go and slap the shit out someone for their aesthetic aberrations. Dear human race: lets wrap this ‘just sucked off a coalminer’ fashion statement in sweatpants, and bury it far, far in the recesses of our collective unconscious.
8. Top Rolling Tobacco. It’s really not so much the shitty smoke as it is the perpetual poverty that warrants its usage.
7. Songs about other songs. ‘who put the bop in the bop-sha-bop-sha-bop’ and all this mess. These make me more sick than mash-ups. (kidding! sort of)
6. Urban Outfitters. I think #6 is the one where I realize how much I actually just hate myself: for every two minute monologue I’ve uttered about how disgusting the commodification of hip really is, I’ve probably spent three minutes inside one of these stores. Fuck.
5. That Show where rich people parade their charity on Fox. Fuck you Life: make me rich. It would make a muuuuuch better show than some douche who struck gold with a new fried chicken recipe showcasing their lackluster, halfhearted goodwill. Muuuuuuch better show…
4. The Junkie. This is the model, of a make of designer jeans, that allows for any bitching I’ve ever done about Urban Outfitters and the like to be fully validated. Fuck borrowing from the underbelly and coining it accessible fashion while at the same time looking down at the trash from whom you have appropriated your identity. Whoever did this should stick their veins full of AIDS-riddled needles, or take a bath with a blow dryer.
3. Jobs and relationships. I say it’s high time we do away with these vestigial relics of human social construction. Granted, jobs and relationships, you have fertilized many a field with the desperation necessary to creative inspiration-I’d be willing to look for that inspiration elsewhere. Screw you jobs and relationships. Life is for kicks.
2. Fallout Boy. I finally had the misfortune of listening to these fuck stains the other day. I came across a live show on what appeared to be the Disney Channel. Unless there’s two different bands called Fallout Boy, and I happened upon the G rated version, there is something fundamentally wrong with you if you like this band. Dear Fallout Boy: grow a soul, then lock it up somewhere sneaky so you will not remember where you put it, and then throw away the key. Never, ever, ever, try to find it or tell it’s story via song.
1. Fallout Aircrafts. Planes and helicopters have taken the lives of many amazing people like Buddy Holly, Patsy Cline, Jim Croce, Bill Graham, and Otis Redding, though spare the lives of the Barenaked ladies singer and the drummer of Blink 182. WTF? If this year has taught me anything, it’s that apparently if you’re a douche, then don’t worry about flying in planes. If they crash, you’ll live! Go ahead and get yourself a pilots license, some booze, blow, and loose women, and fly them shits yourself! And if you’re just a regular shmo with a fear of flying, try to book a flight with Peter Frampton, Steely Dan, or P Diddy, and you’ll be golden.
Love,
Chaz
1 comment:
Agreed on 9 out of 10.
For every rant about consumerism I give to someone I still can't walk by an Urban Outfitters without stepping inside.
I'm weak!
Post a Comment