User Profile

Admit it! Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, you know nothing about art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine. Protypical non-conformist. You are a vecuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo. You adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipister judges, (bullshit) giving a thumbs down to incoming and outoging trends and styles of music and art. Go analog baby, you're so post-modern. You're diving face forward into an antiquated path. It's disgusting, it's offensive; don't stick your nose up at me. What do you have to say for yourself ? You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other.



Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight. Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation. Oh, we're not worthy. When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people, you chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff. It's the same superiority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell and makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life bitching about. What do you have to say for yourself ? Cause I'm proud of my life and the things I have done. Proud of myself and the loner I've become. You're free to whine, it will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar.

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