j.cas steps outside to find his trash can turned over. As he moves closer, a raccoon scurries out. j.cas mutters under his breath, "hipsters".
j.cas is stuck in traffic for 45 minutes. He finally passes a police car parked near a jack-knifed 18-wheeler. He rolls his eyes and groans "hipsters".
j.cas arrives at the post office to find a line backed all the way to the door. He throws up his arms. "HIPSTERS!"
j.cas exits an opera with his parents. A mugger approaches and demands his mother's jewels. His father resists and is gunned down immediately. His mother cries out, but the mugger tears the pearl necklace and fires another round. As j.cas's parents lay bleeding on the sidewalk, he drops to his knees and cries "HIPSTEEEEEERS!"
Ahh, really? I've never cared less about an IA ever, honestly.
I care more about how some shop owner in Ames, Iowa on June 18, 1963 washed his windows at four in the afternoon (front or back? Up or down? Figure eight stylee?); I care more about what Bernardo Brito's OPS was for the first month of his season for the Portland Beavers in 1994; I care more about how much raw sewage the North Portland Waste facility processed in the hours between 6 and 9 am the day JFK was assassinated was; I care more about how many times Steve Martin trimmed his public hair per month in the calendar year proceeding his becoming a mega-comic; I care more about.... uggh... I'll have a MGD
...and then Janelle was like, "I can't decide what's uglier, your shoes or your skirt. What, did you, like, steal them from the Goodwill?" and I was all "You know what's ugly is your face you dumb bitch!" and then Tommy Peterson started laughing and Ms. Kornrankel got pissed and started yelling because she said we were totally disrupting the whole class but like who cares about history anyways? It's totally super old and nobody even had iphones or podcasts back then.
j.cas is stuck in traffic for 45 minutes. He finally passes a police car parked near a jack-knifed 18-wheeler. He rolls his eyes and groans "hipsters".
j.cas arrives at the post office to find a line backed all the way to the door. He throws up his arms. "HIPSTERS!"
j.cas exits an opera with his parents. A mugger approaches and demands his mother's jewels. His father resists and is gunned down immediately. His mother cries out, but the mugger tears the pearl necklace and fires another round. As j.cas's parents lay bleeding on the sidewalk, he drops to his knees and cries "HIPSTEEEEEERS!"
Good to see Twitter has standards at least.
I care more about how some shop owner in Ames, Iowa on June 18, 1963 washed his windows at four in the afternoon (front or back? Up or down? Figure eight stylee?); I care more about what Bernardo Brito's OPS was for the first month of his season for the Portland Beavers in 1994; I care more about how much raw sewage the North Portland Waste facility processed in the hours between 6 and 9 am the day JFK was assassinated was; I care more about how many times Steve Martin trimmed his public hair per month in the calendar year proceeding his becoming a mega-comic; I care more about.... uggh... I'll have a MGD