I recently moved from the fine Williamsburg area into the almost fine, but yuppier Greenpoint/ Williamsburg area (the slash is crucial). To a deluxe condo in the sky. We got an elevator! I found this rant on my computer after a night of not sleeping. I blame the Pamprin and the bug bites that are SERIOUSLY RUINING MY LIFE RIGHT NOW GOD YOU FEEL SO GOOD TO SCRATCH.
So here you have it. Yuppie rants: Williamsburg edition.
So its past midnight and I can’t sleep. Wanna know why? Cuz some asshole in my neighborhood is blasting music. Reggaeton, you ask? I wish. Nickelback? I’d be dead by now. It’s Belle and fucking Sebastian!!! Seriously dude? I’m sure yr on the tail end of some totally amazing first date. Yea, two boxes of wine and a vat of home-made vegan curry later, you are totes gonna get to second base with that book store clerk/ grad student and the final straw to dry-hump-ville is some rare vinyl but like SERIOUSLY?! I have to be at a job I hate in like 5 hours. No amount of Hulu watching can muffle the sounds of indie rock and tofu farts. So, I’d like to dedicate this next entry to you, douchebag, who probably needs to gain like 40 lbs and whose track bike cost more than it does to build a school in a third world country.
You know you live in Williamsburg when:
1. You wake up on a Saturday afternoon to a gaggle of ray-ban wearing, fedora adorned, white kids taking a band photo in your fucking backyard. Quit the pouting assholes, you guys still look like the Strokes. Woof.
2. Yr recycle trash bag is filled with nothing but sparks (FOURLOKO) cans, bottles of the expensive beer, spaghetti jars, and prescription pill containers.
2.5. You actually have a recycle bin for yr building.
3. The door guy at Legion doesn’t need to check yr ID anymore (shudder).
4. You come home after work in the middle of the week and yr neighbors have been out front all day grilling food, drinking beer, and skateboarding. Fuck you guys (marry me).
5. The bodega is always out of soy milk, sprouts, and Tofutti. Pass the Twinkies and Coors light. TASTE THE ROCKIES MOTHERFUCKER!
6. Yr home visiting yr parents in Florida and at da club the only dude you find attractive has a beard, a flannel, and skully on in 100 degree weather. You curse yrself for not EVER being able to remember that these dudes are all ugly under those beards and hate women.
7. Stores with ironic baby clothes. Eugh. The only thing funny about yr baby is what an asshole its gonna be when it grows up.
8. Bars are crowded on Wednesdays. Otherwise known as, get a job people!
9. Thrift stores have clothes from Built By Wendy. Really ladies? 85 dollars for a shitty top and now you want ME to buy it too? No thanks.
10. The graffiti on yr building isn’t gang-related, its an art collective, and will be on a blog in like 30 mins.
11. Yr blogging at 1 am?