Friday, March 14, 2014

Where for Art Thou, Hipster Child?


He sat down in the little pub and the waitress asked him what he'd like; so he flipped his stylishly quaffed hair out of his eyes and whined, "Borkum 27." 

The girl stared at him for a second and said, "I'm sorry I don't think we -"

He cut her off with a loud sigh, "Look, just because you work in this trite little bar with your predictable 'life story' doesn't mean that you should be so stupid that you haven't heard of the internet. Go look it up."

I took a sip of my coffee as the Master Planner looked over at him and mouthed the words, "I'm going to fuck his world up if he says one more stupid fucking thing."

The waitress went back to the bar and started talking with the bartender who gave her a look that deserves to be the standard for the phrase, What the what? As their over there trying to figure out how to fix this bullshit drink that never existed in the first place the little fairy slouches down in his chair and starts messing around with his iPhone giggling over how smart he is. 

Finally the girl comes back over to his table and says, "Sir, I'm sorry but the bartender has never heard of a Borkum 27."

"God," he ejaculated. "Whatever, this place is lame."

It was at that point that the Master Planner threw his chair at the little fuck. Get out now, I said with my mug in my hand, 'cause we've had enough of your bullshit.


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