Behold, the ravages of late night vacuum Suck ’n Cut TV ads.  This poor unsuspecting hipster turd thought using a Flowbee on his dome would have more irony content than a T-bone steak.  But like a predictable after school special where the 10-year-old finds daddy’s gun, his hair was the innocent lamb slaughtered by neglect.  Now his friend with the ripped ass in his jeans can’t even look at the mullet/comb-over monstrosity he calls a hairdo without weeping.  Time to put the do down like Old Yeller. 

PRETENSION: 8, It takes an arrogant hipster to think he can pull off the Flowbee look

IRONY: 7, He would rock the Flowbee again if his body could withstand the trauma

OCCUPATION: Lives off lawsuit settlement from the

Flowbee Corporation


Meet the Beverly Hipsterbilly Jed, short for John Rockerfeller the 5th. His great grandpappy John was also shooting at some food when up came some bubbling crude. Poor marksmanship resulted in the founding of Exxon.  Now Jed’s got enough family money to live out an iconic (or was that ironic?) hipster existence in 3-D.  Jed honors his dumb lucky hick ancestor’s bucolic heritage by wearing his deer hide hat and scarf, sporting a killer farmer’s tan (courtesy of a tanning bed).

PRETENSION: 10, Exxon money flows like crude pumping out of an oil derek

IRONY: 7, Protests Exxon’s huge environmental impact, but flies to see Radiohead in Ireland on the corporate jet

OCCUPATION: Trust fund hickster


Step right up, folks!  The hipster carnival is in town for one night and one night only under the small top. Garth the hipster carnie ringmaster and proprietor beckons you to behold the “World’s tightest pants”, the great PBR chuggler, and the bearded hipster that hasn’t shaved since Kurt Cobain died. Try your luck tossing bottle caps into empty Dewars bottles and you could win a nickel-plated mustache comb. Cry shenanigans and this carnie hipster’s whole snake oil show will be on the road long before the cops can retrieve your iPhone from the fortune teller wearing the scarf headband and Obey baby-T.

PRETENSION: 8, Con-artists tend to be cocky

IRONY: 6, No matter how much he swindles, always blows load on back-room gambling and truck-stop whores

OCCUPATION: Carnie, otherwise known as a gypsy or traveler


WARNING! The World Health Organization has determined that Hipsteritus has reached a Stage 4 pandemic.  The virus has evolved so far that its carriers are now multiplying like amoebas in tight black jeans and matching fedoras.  Your eyes are not playing tricks on you.  It is no longer just a bunch of cool kids aping each other’s style in hopes of being a unique snowflake in an ironical blizzard. These multiplying hipsters pose a greater threat to mankind’s very survival than ebola, AIDS and whiskey dick combined.

PRETENSION: 10 million and growing

IRONY: 12 gauge shotgun can take 1 out, but 3 grow in fallen hipster’s place

OCCUPATION: Multiplying baristas


Human’s have countless fears associated with the unholy day of Friday the 13th.  But nothing is quite so terrifying as undead hipsters rising from the grave to make you listen to their band’s new demo.  They will crash through walls in search of beer, cigarettes and Converse. Bomb shelters around your community will be open should the Zombie Hipsters turn passive aggressive or emo.  What keeps the mostly fearless Hipster Hunter up at night is the prospect of being stuffed into a suitcase and sent to Omaha by bus.

PRETENSION: 13, Get off on terror they inspire

IRONY: .666, They don’t actually exist

OCCUPATION: Nightmare soap-opera cast


No generation has embraced photography with as much relish as Generation H(ipster).  With cameras standard on most phones, documenting the minutia of misspent youth is practically compulsory.  The likes of The Cobra Snake, Vice Magazine and MySpace need to be fed pics daily or they shall fade into obscurity.  Someday they’ll have to explain why Mommy tucked jeans into boots, a scarf headband flapping in the breeze; Daddy will search for the rationale of sporting Levi’s tight enough to cut off circulation to the brain.  They’ll let out a collective sigh, wondering “What the fuck was I thinking?”

PRETENSION: 10+, The bigger the camera, the bigger the ‘tude

IRONY: Pic = a 1000 words, most of them justifying yesterday’s regrets

OCCUPATION: Amateur paparazzi, full-time day-job


These two sex machines have no

clue that they’re merely pawns of the multi-national corporations they decry at poetry slams. Their outfits arm them with enough street cred to pass out flyers to their tight-panted brethren.  But are they not passing out part of their indie-rocker souls?

PRETENSION: 8, Marketing takes gusto and indifference to rejection

IRONY: 7, the number of paper-cuts from passing out George Michael flyers

OCCUPATION: Concert promoters (translation = flyer boys)


Randy was never the same after two tours in Iraq. Shell-shock takes many odd forms. All Randy wants to do is rock. So now he’s gone AWOL and jams with indie-rockers Flaming Fiches Trees.  The Military Police are eager to haul him in for court marshall, but they’ll have to find him in the many basement rock clubs.

PRETENSION: .5, That was crushed during basic training

IRONY: 0, Shell-shock and other war injuries are no laughing matter

OCCUPATION: Blowing through G.I. Bill $$


Dave IS that creepy older dude who dates high school girls.  He burned his bridges with hipsters his own age thanks to his busy hands and fondness for roofie pie.  You can usually find Dave chilling in his Hyundai outside the high school, in mall food courts or in online chat-rooms.  Sex with minors is so ironic!

PRETENSION: 1, Knows picking up naive girls isn’t socially acceptable

IRONY: 2, His girlfriend is legal now, and now he’s not interested

OCCUPATION: Registered sex offender


The American economy in tatters, a gallon of gas cost more than crack rock and the US dollar is only good for fire kindling.  Going hipster could prove thrifty since ugly is the new pretty: moth-eaten flannels from the Good Will, a fedora that barely works as a yamaka, and NASA-designed silver moon-boots.  With the money your saving with your Ralph’s Food Club Card, you’re part of the solution, you patriot you.

PRETENSION: 10 dollars, the total cost of outfit, and don’t you forget it

IRONY: 8, $$ saved on clothes was squandered on gas thrift-store hopping

OCCUPATION: Coupon clipper