This is Chazz's great-uncle Smilos who came over here from the island of Mypos in the 50's. Having recently retired from driving the bus down to Foxwoods, he's a new addition to our pantheon of bloggers. Today he uses his life's experience to warn against befriending hipsters.
My nephew Chazz, I see him the other day with these new friends, all of them with fancy boots, and with weird leather wristbands and such, listening to some crap music in the garage, carving wood pipes. I take Chazz aside, I say Chazz what are you and your friends listening to? Chazz says, Bon Iver.
I say, You listen to me Chazz, and listen well: In 1976 your Uncle Smilos was working with an organization of progressives to fight for the rights of the Paiute tribes in Nevada. It was a great time. Well one weekend the crew of us, Me, Laird, Mikeal with a K, Ash, Calliope, and Reginald, ended up in Las Vegas looking for coke. And I, being quite high already from all the mushrooms I got from the Paiute, said to the rest of the brothers, "Let's go to the International, and see Elvis!"
Complete silence.
Then Ash spoke up, "Why would we want to go see that washed up fat hack? Let's go out to the desert, and listen to Steve Miller on my 8-track."
The rest of them agreed.
A year later Elvis was dead, Uncle Smilos was in Texas working for the circus shoveling giraffe turds, and Steve Miller still sucked. Because of those fad-sucking hipsters, I soon go to my grave knowing I never saw the King. Let me tell you something about hipsters: They're always discovering the next cool thing, because they're always wrong about the one before. Cast these false prophets aside!! No more disgrace my garage, Chazz!!! |
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