No, no, no, no, no, no! Never do this this to yourself. For the love of god, have some self respect.
Unless you are worried about pickpockets or losing your change while doing a handstand at your friend’s shitty wedding (see Jill the whore and Kevin’s wedding video) there is no reason a man should ever have dainty flaps on his jean pockets. Now you reply in an annoying voice, “but it’s fashion, I’m just trying to look cool.” God, I hate your voice. Listen, I understand wanting to look good but the trick to looking good as a guy is to look like you aren’t trying too hard. Actually, you shouldn’t really try too hard.
Stick with the basics and you can avoid looking back at old photos with shame from all the trends you followed over the years. Sadly, I did not learn this until my early 20s and have college photos of me, a skinny suburban white kid, dressed as a member of De La Soul. I could often be found looking like an extra on “Do The Right Thing.” Luckily, I did not dress hip hoppy every day, but I did it enough to feel ashamed for the rest of my life.
I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you, but if you are a guy who wears jeans with pocket flaps, you need to be aware that the world looks at your fancy ass and says, “That guy is gay.” If you are a gay man who wears these jeans, the world is looking at you and saying, “That gay guy is wearing those straight guy gay pants.” In either scenario you are being horribly misunderstood.
In summation, your pocket flap pants are douchey and your douchey ass is douchey for wearing them you douchebag.
Want to do something horrible? Search Google images for “golf outing” and prepare yourself for approximately 10,000,000 photos that look exactly like the one above.
If I ever see you wearing shorty golf socks, prepare to have those socks filled with my pee. Oh my God, I am officially the worst “writer” ever. That was possibly the dumbest thought ever expressed on the internet. Moving on… keep your short, doll-sized, pee-soaked socks away from me.
I actually like to play golf but the whole culture surrounding it sucks. The “sport” is filled with douchey white guys who live to tuck their shirts into various forms of pants (i.e. slacks, shorts, Dockers, jeans, etc.) and they still think it’s “money” to smoke cigars.
It’s not easy being better than everyone. Just kidding, it is.
You really can’t say that you’ve made anything of your life until your likeness appears on someone’s fingernails. You think you’re the shit because your dumb face is on a T-shirt? Bullshit, call me when some chick is walking around with your smiling mug on her disgusting fingernails.
(STOP THE PRESSES – I just saw a commercial for some fat ass dating show on Fox. It’s a fat guy looking for love from a group of fat chicks standing on reinforced bleachers. Mark my words, the world will end by November.)
OK, sorry about that… This is one of those subjects that makes a little barf come up. I am endlessly fascinated by what some people accept as “fashionable.” I mean, there are thousands of women walking around RIGHT NOW with palm trees, dolphins, tigers and flowers painted on their long fingernails. No, these women were not abducted at gunpoint and forced to do such a thing. Nope, these crazies paid for this insanity.
The art is bad enough on its own, but the thing that really gets to me is the length of these nails. It sends a shiver down my spine every time I see a woman struggling to do some simple task with her painted claws. Using a telephone or picking up a coin becomes a day-long event with these idiots.
You know who wore Members Only jackets? My dad in 1985. You know who looked cool in his Members Only jacket? Nobody.
Nobody ever looked cool in a Members Only jacket but compared to this hipster turd, my dad looked like fucking Burt Reynolds. At least my dad was trying to look awesome, unlike hipsters who want you to believe they look like assholes on purpose. Ironic hipsters think they can hide the fact that they are dorks by making you believe they are dorky on purpose. American Apparel has based most of their products on this theory.
Well I for one have had enough of this bullshit, so ironic hipsters beware because I’m going to be shaving your mustaches and shredding your Members Only bullshit the next time I see you.
I really could have just titled this post “The hats worn by Pearl Jam’s Jeff Ament” and been done with it, but I didn’t want to cheat you out of my hilarious musings.
What is it with old white guys in shitty bands and their love affair with backwards Kangol, berets and other random dumb hats? Obviously a high percentage of these turds (especially Jeff Ament) wear these silly things in a sad attempt to fool the audience* into thinking a wild mane of thick, luxurious hair is waiting to spring forth from its hat cage. Unfortunately we all know the truth.
I can almost forgive the bald guys, but what’s really upsetting are the guys who actually think they look “cool” and youthful because they are rocking a beret. I think in their minds it’s sort of like the cliche of the bookish secretary who needs only to let down her hair and remove her glasses to suddenly look like a porn star. These guys come home after a long casual Friday, pop on the T-shirt/blazer combo, carefully place the Kangol hat at just the right angle that says “whatever man, I’m just hangin'” and, ta-da, the transformation from working stiff to rock star is complete!
I really take comfort in being better than everyone.
*audience = 5 people from their office who had to attend because they have run out of excuses.
First, I need to put myself on my list for watching NBC’s latest waste-of-video tape “I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” three nights in a row. In fact, as I type this I am watching Janice Dickinson cry because John Salley called her a bitch and a motherfucker for spilling water in his boots and using his shampoo. Stephen Baldwin thinks he’s justified and Sanjaya just wants to chill on the hammock. Oddly, Patti Blagojevich is the most likable person on the show. I’m only watching because I want to see when the actual celebrities join the cast. I mean, they are going to have celebrities on this show at some point, right?
Anyhoo, thanks to this future Emmy-winner, I have been introduced to Janice Dickinson’s fleshy horror show that she calls a neck. I could probably type the night away about Janice Dickinson’s loathsome personality but it’s really her ghastly neck that has ruined my night. RUINED IT! I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to describe her neck and I think I figured it out. It looks like an enormous, veiny penis! Yeah, she’s a shriveled head sitting precariously on top of a beastly, repulsive monster cock.
Fuck Threadless and their oh-so-clever bullshit! I hate the cult of Threadless.
If you do not know what Threadless is, take a moment to high-five yourself for being awesome. Threadless is a website where people send in their cutesy little t-shirt designs and an online community of lonely teens and aging hipsters with tiny glasses vote on which crappy doodle gets produced on actual t-shirts. Once these shirts are produced all the Threadless zombies rejoice and cum in their panties because every week they can buy more shirts with precious scribbles on them.
Do I think every Threadless shirt sucks? No, but I do honesty hate 98% of them. Do I think anyone who owns a Threadless shirt sucks? No, but I really can’t stand it when people are obsessed with them.
You know how there are just some things in life you hate but can’t quite explain why? Well this is not one of those things for me, I fucking hate Threadless.
