Hipsterbag
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Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Arnie The Hipster Load is Disinterested and Moody Around Giggle Hannah
Because his band Coldplaydoh, like, totally should have hit by now and, like, wtf, man.
Arnie the Hipster Load is the reason why when I lived in New York I wouldn’t go to Williamsburg even if Bernie Goetz was giving out free George Foremans
I have no idea what that means.
But I do know that Arnie the Hipsterload’s undeserving success in any sort of proximity to Giggle Hannah is enough to gob smack a crotch with a pimento loaf.
More evidence: Arnie The Hipster Load Makes the Doucheface.
When Giggle Hannah giggles, it’s like a xylophone under a pool full of jello. Her body jiggles and gyrates like so much firm pudding pop suckle thigh it causes northern mocking birds to quit singing car alarm melodies at 2am and go beat up a ferret.
Thursday, June 2, 2011Emperor Hairoheato At The Prom
Yesterday’s Emperor Hairoheato has decided to take Stephanie to the prom. On the fourth moon of Yavin, apparently.
I can’t tell if the fact that Hairoheato’s douche-hair was dyed to match the color of his prom tie is either so ludicrous it’s genius, or too stupid even for a punch fail. By which I mean I punch myself in the face, since someone has to be punched for douche hair.
Stephanie smells like exotic flowers on mint julep night. She will send many Freshman boys into confusion and alcoholic depression at Sarah Lawrence next year.
Monday, May 16, 2011Scarf Face
The S.S.B. (Stolen Sister’s Blouse) that Scarf Face is sporting is in and of itself sufficient cause to be flogged about the head and neck with a flail made of a mop handle with a half dozen dead lampreys stapled to the jagged broken head.
But that…scarf…the so-called keffiyeh worn by that most insufferable of all bags:
The HipsterBag.
Allie, Keisha…can you not smell the sopped rancid neck-cheese encrusted within this tragically cool trend-squatter’s woolen folds? I implore you both to empty your lagers into his woven commode seat of a keffiyeh, saunter into the furthest empty bedroom, away from the pseudo-intellectual arguments between young men tragically attempting to grow wispy bears, clad in high-water pants and girl’s blouses; yes, creep away from the tinny strains of the new “Starry Saints” vinyl being played ironically on an old plastic child’s phonograph; avoid the maze of old “Spin” magazines and soy latte stains that landscape the carpet; slip beneath the sheets, unwashed since Mom’s exasperated cleaning visit last Thanksgiving, and just do what comes naturally. Which is, of course, to start a mattress fire and ease quietly out onto the fire exit.
I beg this of them. What would YOU have them do, fellow Bag Hunters?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011Mister Tie Fighter
What’s the one way to get the hottest retro bombshell at the Kappa Kappa Woo sorority to pose for pic before the summer formal?
You guessed it.
Skinny Tie.
Okay, so maybe Mister Tie Fighter, aka Bantha Fodder, is only a stage-1, maybe a stage-2 hipsterpud.
But it’s early. And I gotta thing for Fawcett hair.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011Anagram Hipsterbag Henry’s Tatt
I’ve got: “Realpolitik Viva La France!”
And no, Pamela is no better than Hipsterbag Henry. A douche made in Heaven.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011Skinny D and Maggie the Quartasian Hottie
Pic Deleted
Skinny D? Brooklyn b-boy hipsterpud. Give him a stage-2 violation ticket and send him on his way to his night shift at Denny’s.
Now Maggie the Quartasian Hottie on the left deserves a pause.
Together, let us say, amen.
For therein lies a tasty curvy suckle thigh of powdered donut fluffy snappy snack shack turbo dog corn nuts, both regular and B.Q.
We haven’t featured a quality Quartasian Hottie in quite awhile, and as long time readers know, the quarter asian female is the heighth of all non-Semitic sucklethigh.
Betty in the middle? Yes. She is there. Lets move on. And by on, I mean back to Maggie. With only six bags of sunflower seeds and a sundial to guide us under cover of leaf.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011Hipsterbag Lenny is Laughing at Nothing in Particular
Smurf shirts. Ironic.
Later that night, supple Pauline will be too polite to point out that eating Japanese noodle soup ironically at 2am doesn’t justify the lack of a recording contract that’s coming. Any day now.
Friday, April 8, 2011Russell Has a Cold Neck
Either that or his neck just joined OPEC.
Yeah. That was an OPEC reference. Because it’s Friday. And your humble narrator is stumbling around his basement garage living quarters trying not to trip over the burnt grilled cheese covered hot plate and discovering if penicillin really does grow organically on socks.
But then there’s Art Student Marjorie. Who is still fooled by Hipsterbaggery.
And so the DB1 knows the fight must continue. To save boobie hottie suckle thigh. From having to spend two hours at Russell’s Williamsburg loft pretending vinyl sounds better.
Saturday, March 19, 2011Ask DB1: Is a Scion Automock?
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Hi DB1,
I’m in the market for a new car sometime this year or next, and I have been looking at the Scion tC.
Scion is new here in Canada, however it has been in your country for quite some time. From what I read, Scion has been labeled as a ‘poser’ brand amongst car enthusiasts. Apparently, the douchebags who drive them make modifications to them as if it is a race car when it isn’t (it has the Toyota Camry’s 180hp engine, not some turbocharged 300hp engine).
Therefore, if I get one without making modifications, does that still make me a douche? It’s a great economy car that’s fun to drive that has some sport features. I don’t plan on douching it up.
Lately I’ve seen a few 20-something year old Scion owners who exude a sense of douche aura whenever I go to a nightclub. Does that automatically make me one of them?
All the best,
Chester Creamworthy
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Notwithstanding the fact someone is already selling Scion Douchebag stickers, I’m not sure any car is inherently douchey other than, of course, white BMW 525s.
However, ironic Scion ownership is, like handlebar mustaches or reading Kindle ‘Zines, a sign of mockworthy hipsterbaggery.
Without choady modifications, and if the budget fits, you are free to purchase. But if the sounds of Deadmaus (and no, I’m not typing a 5 for an S) are heard from your car, even once, you are to be mocked immediately and indefinitely.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011Emobags Clog the Toilet
Meet The Emobags: Dopey, Frumpy, Herpy and Jeff.
Watch as they bother Shen-Chu in the bathroom of the Korova Milk Bar somewhere in the near future in this excerpt from “A Clockwork Altoid.”
