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Allan Keyes Has A Bit Of An Issue With Hipsters. And Their Babies.

27 May

May 27, 2013

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I F**KING HATE HATE HATE HIPSTERS

Today’s rage is courtesy of the indispensable WWTDD *(what would Tyler Durden Do).com.  It’s a hilarious website, and well recommended.  Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, if you’re one of those who hate strong language, I advise you to skip away and I’ll see you next week. Giant F-bomb dropping in 5….4….3….2…1……you’ve been warned:

FUCK HIPSTERS!!!!!!!

Why did I write these obviously well-thought out words? Well, let’s try this:

http://www.wwtdd.com/2013/04/hipsters-are-full-of-shit/

GREENPOINT — Pardis Partow decided to give her year-old son, Parker, some diaper-free time at home — much to the consternation of her Yorkshire terrier.

Because of Parker’s terrible diaper rash, the Bedford-Stuyvesant lawyer-turned-Reiki healer became interested in “elimination communication” — or EC, as it’s called— responding to her son’s cues for when to go to the bathroom instead of having to rely on a diaper.

The hope is for the parent to “catch” pees and poops — whether atop open-cloth diapers, toilets, sinks or behind the multitude of parked cars on city streets.

“Elimination Communication” – because babies are so always well-spoken and eloquent about when it’s time to shoot out this morning’s strained peas.  It’s as if instead of just mindlessly pooping and then rolling around in it like babies usually do, they expect their super hip kids to sit up in the crib and go “Oh mother? I’m feeling a bowel movement coming up. Let’s say in about 5 minutes or so. Please get a copy of the Atlantic for me to read on the potty?”

Below: picture of stupid hipster baby, probably named Parker or Diwali or some other stupid hipster shit name

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More nuggets (HA!) from the article:

This week is Go Diaper Free! Week where I live in New York City, a holiday of grossness spearheaded by the assholes that follow this nonsense. So I got to see a hipster dad, handlebar mustache and all, get the “signal” from his baby at a restaurant, try to rush the defecating little bastard to the toilet, and not make it in time. This kid dropped a huge deuce right in the middle of the dining room. The poor bussers had to help this dickhead dad clean it up. He then sat back down and I heard him proudly explain this EC crap to his party.

 Below: Picture of stupid hipster home

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Yeah, I know I intermixed in two articles. I DON’T CARE! It’s the same stupid thing anyway.  These people have set themselves up as some sort of pathetic poop whisperers. As if they have nothing better to do then obsessively stare at their kids waiting to discern when some fecal is going to make an appearance. I mean, what the hell??? Don’t these creeps have television? THAT’S UNAMERICAN!!!!!  But seriously, it’s just another attempt by overly-vain losers to try to feel smug about something else. “Look, I’m so in tune with my baby that I know when he’s going to shat, and I know to run and hold a Tupperware under his ass.”  WHOOPDE DAMM DO!  I can’t think of a more useless talent in the world.  This is on the level with twerking  (warning: mild content). [NOTE: You can find this on Youtube but you will have to sign in to verify your age, which is stupid when you see what this is.] 

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=twerking&view=detail&mid=9C18CF67E8E552A68CD49C18CF67E8E552A68CD4&first=16&FORM=NVPFVR 

and being able to shove a condom up your nose and pull it out of your mouth (warning: stupid content)

 

In the words of some guy on The Simpsons, that’s why they’re kids, because they’re stupid! Leave the babies do what babies do which is crap their diapers and smile. It’s one of the great benefits of being a kid, getting someone to clean up your poopie drawers. Because when it has to be done to us as adults, it’s kind of degrading and dignity-killing. Besides, what kind of parent engages in a practice that only has two outcomes: having your kid drop a nasty loose deuce in public places, or training them to crap into a Tupperware on command? EFF’EM!

 

 

 

My Trip to Delaware, Part Four: Hotel, Day 2, and Home

17 May

May 17, 2013

The Imponderable will return next week, but if you are looking for an Imponderable, then ask yourself what the heck I was supposed to get out of this trip.

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We were stuck in a far off hotel. Because the Company event was so big, people from all over the country converged on Wilmington, only to be disappointed with Wilmington. In the weeks before the event, we were never given clear direction on how to bill the Company for the hotel so we would, just for kicks, go online and watch as hotel after hotel got booked. Finally we got the go-ahead and we booked. The four of us booked individually instead of our team supervisor simply booking four rooms. This was a problem.

Although we all went online to book at the same time, somehow the other three members of my team got rooms at the corporate rate while I was told that the last three rooms were just booked. To make a long story short, I ended up getting a much better room than they did. (Allan Keyes grew hot with jealousy over it in this post.) But honestly, for an overnight it was way too much of a room. It was so big that if it had a kitchen I would have lived there. It had a Jacuzzi, a pair of flat screen TV’s, and a view that was to die for.

Sorry, I mean a view that made me want to kill myself.

I took this picture from the bedroom. This was the view from half the hotel. The other half had a worse view.

I took this picture from the bedroom. This was the view from half the hotel. The other half had a worse view.

The hotel itself was awesome- indoor glass elevators, sweeping chandeliers, elegant piano in the lobby, all new and beautiful with indoor views of the restaurant and lounge. The hotel had to be good because if it was a dump no one would have stayed there. It was in the middle of nowhere. Literally

It was at the intersection of two highways and a swamp.

I mean that literally and truthfully. The hotel was a gleaming spire in the middle of fields of weeds and swampland. After we arrived (40 minutes later, taking the Bataan death march of van rides) we went straight to our rooms and agreed to meet in the lobby for dinner later.

Everyone else was enjoying the admittedly limited nightlife of Wilmington, walking around the pier, eating in nice restaurants, catching a movie or shopping, and we had zero to do. We had a quiet meal together in which my boss began her sentences no less than infinity times with “I know you think I don’t like you and annoy you but…”

But the food was good.

After we ate it was only 7:00 and what was there to do? Nothing, I went outside on the hopes that there might be a 7-11 nestled against the hotel, or even an interesting hobo, but there was nothing.  On two sides there were highways cutting through the fields and on the other sides swamps. So at 7:30 was in my room enjoying the Jacuzzi, then by 9 I was asleep in a gigantic bed with maybe 25 pillows strewn around me.

 Checkout time was 7 (for us so we could take that van ride back to the center) and what did we do the rest of the day? Honesty, I won’t bore you. Suffice it to say I caught up on my sleep that afternoon.

Going home I was hoping to get a seat on the other side of the train so I could see what was on the other side of the rust belt but the only empty seats were on the same side. Much as I liked the scenery it was getting dark and I read- really read this time- The Exorcist until we arrived in New York, then I took the N train home.

Bad as it all was, the worst part was the next day back in the office when I saw all the work that had piled up in our absence.

The Good: The hotel room- Jacuzzi, super-king size bed, jumbo TV
The Bad: Everything else

And I never did tell the rest of my team that the Company paid for me to have a hotel room five times better than theirs. I consider that payback for the rest of the trip.

My actual room, Jacuzzi not shown

My actual room, Jacuzzi not shown