Get Me Away From Here...

I'm not dying, but you get the idea.

The HPC Mohawk Guide Book

I saw this guy at a bar once who was rocking a mohawk who also had a tattoo on his head. The deal was, if he didn't have that haircut, you couldn't see his tattoo. And from that day forward, I've hated mohawks.

I've also decided that there are only two groups of people that can wear them:

-Little kids.

-NBA players.

End of discussion. Edit: I picked a really bad photo for the post, but it's so stupid it stays.

Names...All over the floor...Everywhere...

Name dropping is the worst shit ever. I really fucking hate it. It takes a certain kind of insecure/secure asshole to really go for it, a type of obliviousness to life and the thoughts of others that I am unable to fathom.

Simply stated, I was subjected to the worst storm of names and bullshit store names and you know him he works for this and does this fucking street wear brand and haven't you seen that shit it's so sick but yeah I'm working for that dude he knows her shes got openings all over town fucking Tokyo!...To all of which I answered "no". Because, not only was I stonewalling out of principle, but because seriously, I'd never heard of any of that shit/people/bullshit/fuckingboring/etc. I can't do it folks! Maybe I'm too lazy to be cool.

And now that I've reached a proper place of loathing and resentment, I'll drop a BONUS HATE. That Scion show last week was the lamest scene ever. I've got a bullet proof alibi of why I was there too, regarding domestic strife and general insanity. So, don't hate the hater. Anyhow, the outfit of the night consisted of, from top to bottom; an extremely cocked new era hat, a blue bandana under the hat, blonde pig-tails, a blue floral print sun dress, blue jeans, and pink and yellow ice cream shoes. Top it off with the requisite flair and standard tattoos, all as visible as possible. I did my best to try and find a photo of her on the interweb, but, alas, no dice.