"Anarchist," cut it out. You've got the stink of the leisure class all over you. How do I know? Because your clothes are too perfectly assembled, you have baby-soft hands, and you have the kind of lifestyle that makes growing a head of nicely cared-for dreadlocks possible. That is: the life of the upper class.
And that's who you'll be: some kind of psuedo-countercultural "insider" preying on the poor saps who ACTUALLY DON'T HAVE ANYTHING until you eventually get older and move into an expensive house in a trendy neighborhood. Hell, you probably already live there. I mean, you ARE the first wave gentrifiers of any neighborhood, and you DO seem to be crawling all over Alberta & Mississippi...
So stop pretending to fight the problem by opening up vegan anarchist cafes and getting your kicks by dumpster diving even though you've never experienced starvation (the real reason people eat out of dumpsters). Oh, and get off the foodstamps, you leech. If you were a real poor person, you'd find those things as humiliating as we do—rather than a way to "rip off" the "empire."
One more thing: if you call NE "the hood" one more time, I'll beat the holy living shit out of you and see how well you deal with being ugly for a few months.
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