I Wish that all Children of the World could Bask in the Glow of the Hipster Working at Intelligentsia Coffee Right Now

I treat myself on Friday afternoons to a frou-frou coffee drink from the best coffee peddlers in town, Intelligentsia. I almost denied myself today, which would have been one of the biggest mistakes of my entire life. I would never have been able to spin for my children and their children the tale of one of the most magnificent hipsters thine eyes hath ever beheld. I believe in this case that the best way to proceed is from the waist up:

1. Red flannel lumberjack shirt
2. Red flannel lumberjack shirt sleeves rolled tightly all the way to high bicep
3. Black forearm spiral tat
4. Vest
5. Vest is brown corduroy on the front
6. Vest is paisley on the back
7. Striped suspenders
8. Suspenders worn outside of vest
9. Tom Selleck chest hair
10. Pec tats
11. Tight silver necklace
12. Necklace contains numerous charms which includes but is not limited to:
a. an old-timey key
b. quartz crystal
c. dream-catcher
d. picture of Jesus
e. picture of 18th century French noblewoman (Marie Antoinette possibly?)
13. Nose ring
14. “Bull Ring” style nose ring through septum
15. Those goddamned stupid assed fucking black barrel ear-plug thingys that create increasingly larger holes in your ear lobe as you increase the size of the barrel
16. Studded bar piercing through top of ear
17. Normalish hair cut in the front, which becomes a choppy faux-hawk in the back, which ultimately blends into……
18. A fucking rat tail

A straight fucking flush to the Ace. Lets see you beat that, and unless you’re holding 5 aces, you ain’t beating it. When you are that fucking rad do you even realize how much energy and strength it requires just to keep yourself upright? Do you? You’re riding your bike to work? Guess what, fuck you. He’s riding a unicycle to work. You’re reading Dylan Thomas in the dark corner of a pub and drinking a Duvel? Well go fuck yourself. My man just finished reading a collection of Moliere while dressed as Charlie Chaplin and drinking a “Sidecar” out of a pewter mug next to a statue honoring Cesar Chavez west of Humboldt Park. Oh, you’re driving a metallic green Ford Pinto with a Jimmy Carter for President sticker on the bumper? Well you’re a douche-bag because our protagonist doesn’t even have a fucking license. You can all take your skinny black jeans and your Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and ride your Dutch De Fietsfabriek bicycles right the fuck back to Wicker Park, because this hombre doesn’t give one shit.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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One Response to I Wish that all Children of the World could Bask in the Glow of the Hipster Working at Intelligentsia Coffee Right Now

  1. NP says:

    Stull tells a great story about his friend Lehman chasing a kid down the street with a machete because the kid was wearing black jeans. Completely justified

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