I Can't Escape The Hippies...
St. Patrick's Day was fun, except for the damn hippies.
So my posse and I are at a bar having a few beers when a girl stands next to us and orders from the bartender. We've all been drinking, she seemed polite, so we strike up a short conversation while she waits.
Within what seemed to be twenty seconds of our conversation, she says (out of nowhere), "society dictates what we do." The comment was unwarrented, unprovoked, and completely random.
Sternly, I asked, "you're not a damn hippy, are you?"
She proceeded to tell me that she was a "stylish hippy," and seemed genuinly proud I noticed.
I, however, was not amused.
I respect all walks of life, including step-children, transvestites, and people from Oklahoma - but God screwed up when he created hippies.
They almost prove God is faulable.
I proceeded to tell her of my discomfort with 'her kind,' and without argument, she walked away.
These damn pot smokin', no bra wearing, tree huggers have been all over the city lately. The wear tie-die t-shirts and carry signs that read "Bush Is An Idiot."
The President has a degree from Harvard and Yale, respectively. Hippies get high on acid and discuss what Cheetos would taste like dipped in brownie fudge.
They're everywhere in this damn city.
Labels: Hippies, Party Like A Rockstar
