uh-oh! people don't like me!

I was going to blog about something completely different than what I'm about to post, but I will save that for either later or, more likely tomorrow. It can wait. What I'm about to type, however, cannot.

I randomly came across a blog post this morning via DC Blogs and could not resist adding my two obnoxious cents to the comment pool. My main problem was not that this blog's author clearly hates tight pants (this is DC, I'm used to that). No, my main problem was that he and many of his readers made ridiculous assumptions about the subject of the blog, a typical Brooklyn hipster. Now, I can handle routine mockings of hipsterdom. In fact, I endure it nearly daily and find it quite often amusing. However, when the superficial mocking goes beyond that and begins to allude to someone's degree of manliness, in this particular case, or sexuality, as several of this blog's readers found necessary to chime in on, it legitimately pisses me off. It's not funny. It's just mean.

Moreover, as an apparent DC hipster, I feel it is my duty to stand up for those who veer from the almost Nazi-like view here that people should conform in their attire to what is bought and sold at Sears or J.C. Penneys. While I definitely have my style preferences, including glovelets in April, I certainly don't advocate or subscribe to the view that *everyone* should be into the same sh*t I am. In fact, I would absolutely detest if everyone began dressing the exact same way I do. A world in which everyone dresses the same is boring. All I am contending here is that people put in an *effort* to make themselves look good no matter what their personal style preferences are (i.e., do not wear stained sweatpants and f*cking house shoes in public -- that takes zero effort).

Oh, these are the times when I miss A Serious Job Is No Excuse.