I’ll tell you straight up that I hate pretentious wankers about as much as I hate taking out the trash only to find out that a warm stream of garbage juice has dribbled down my jeans from a hole in the bottom of the bag.
There are a number of factors that lead to people becoming pretentious wankers, but right at the top of the list is definitely a chronic insecurity in themselves that manifests in them putting everyone else around them down to feel better about their shit lives.
They distance themselves from the mainstream because it makes them feel superior and unique. They disagree with everyone about basically everything because they think it makes them seem intelligent and they regard the rest of humanity with their noses upturned because the idea that we’re all basically the same terrifies them.
Which brings us to hipsters who, if you strip all the bullshit romanticism out of it, are really just a bunch of pretentious wankers and sadly Cape Town is like a petri dish for these ridiculous arseholes.
Here, in no particular order, are the top ten things hipsters love:
- Silently judging everyone
- Elaborate scarves
- Cute little hats
- Vinyl records
- Irony (the snooty kind)
- Skinny jeans
- Indie bands that are shit
- Bragging about some rad little bistro they found down some obscure back alley that is actually shit
- Stealing fashion trends from the opposite sex
Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for being weird and expressing yourself hell, just read this fucking site, but the thing that gets to me about a lot of these jerks is that they have absolutely no sense of humour.
People that don’t laugh about life, the universe and everything (especially themselves) really piss me off because c’mon! Open your fucking eyes! It’s all a joke man!
I say ‘a lot of these jerks’ because there is such a thing as a hipster with a sense of humour and those cats are alright by me.
Here are a couple of pics from Regretfulmorning.com to better illustrate what I’m talking about.
Hipsters of the world, lighten up. Drop the pretence and come out of your little shells, life’s too short to spend it sitting by yourself in the corner of some pseudo-European coffee shop drinking espressos, smoking rolleys and reading Kafka.
Wonderboy, life’s just begun. Turn that sorrow into wonder