I’ve been working on this little site for a few years now, and finally someone has come along to legitimize the late nights, the cramped fingers and the wasted hours of retina wrecking squinting. Yeah, there have been some sites that have linked to the damn thing, but they’ve mainly been friends or strangers with sites called things like Joey’s House of Spam or Sproing: The Magic Bean. I have no doubt some of these sites are super high quality and very informational, and I thank them very much for including me in their thoughts, but I want to present the woman who alone has brought an instant air of legitimacy to Mr. Hipster:
Whitney Matheson
Granted, she looks young enough to be my daughter (or at least my young girlfriend’s kid sister), but she has changed life as we know it here at what we like to call The Hipster HQ. Okay, so it’s just a home office with a Dell laptop and an old Compaq desktop that I got for free from the generous folks at Bertelsmann–right before they laid me off. But anyway, when we saw her brilliant article, we popped the cork on a bottle of that really shitty Sam Adams Triple Bock, decided after one sip it tasted like spoiled soy sauce and threw it in the garbage where it belongs. We proceeded to rummage through the cabinets for anything with alcohol in it and settled on a medium-sized bottle of vanilla extract and a fermented potato with a Jack Daniels Barbecue Sauce chaser.
Where was I? Oh yeah, so I’m drunk and vomiting homemade vodka and moaning Whitney’s name into the bowl of the downstairs toilet when Mrs. Hipster comes home. My imaginary Mr. Hipster staff fled after I mistakenly sexually harassed our beautiful new dishwasher (I do love that thing!) and she finds me wasted and babbling about some chick named Whitney and how she finally made me a man.
Needless to say, I slept on the Hipster couch that night, but in the morning I explained that Ms. Matheson was not, as she assumed, some floozy, but a serious reporter from USA Today who deemed my site great enough to be published on the Internet! So I powered up the World Wide Web and showed her Whit’s column, Hip Clicks. (I feel like I can call her Whit at this point, don’t you?) I’m not sure she really has an affinity for hipsters, or is in fact making fun of them, but if you scroll down, you’ll see a link that reads “love them,” and if you click on it you’ll get to my site! The funny thing is, of course, that I hate most hipsters, but like a true hipster, I have created something that is truly against my own nature. Whatever. Thank you Whitney for opening at least 738 peoples’ eyes to the debacle that is this shitheap.
