The Hype: A Conclusive Guide

Why is this blog so dope? It would be mad foolish of you to chide this question by rolling your eyes, since the pleasure of habitually returning here lies in my exuberant refusal to give a damn. I know that sounds self-absorbed and bent with attitude, but I feel I have established a grand reputation of boisterous bravado that can not reasonably be matched.

It's a characteristic that affords me the luxury of not having to answer such mindless questions that birth obvious answers pertaining to why this blog is strikingly dope. In case you were wondering though, the dial-tone you hear when reading this blog is just a reminder that it's off-the-hook. But if you are genuinely seeking an answer to the posed question, let me redirect you to an in-depth explanation to the hype that surrounds this blog, as follows.

You already know this, but I'm equal parts brash ego, miscalculated intellect and mild self-deprecation, congealed into a form of intoxicating sophistication that exudes triumphantly. Like a waft of sample cologne lifted from the pages of GQ magazine during a glorious session of joyous bowel music played while sitting on the toilet. (Crucial and clutch, more than a welcome reprieve, too).

Yes, I smell good. And I deliver punchlines faster than FedEx but more importantly, unlike other blogs, I don't blow hot air like an A/C with no freon. I'm a rich source when it comes to recognizing original items of interest and sharing bizarre thoughts in great detail. In short, I am here to help you enjoy life by inviting you to spend several unfiltered minutes with me because you won't get this shit anywhere else.

Since this is the hype issue, I'm writing this afternoon to detail recommendations about things, from film, music, hairstyles, food, zombie strippers, activities and other fucking rad (don't hate, I like the word) things to help provide material to talk about when standing around at a party. The astronomical capabilities that these recommendations of wicked wit and abstract rumination have will devastate you. I simply ask that you discard your perfunctory desire to stimulate yawns. This is the hype entry, so get excited!

When it comes to hype, or the next big thing, I'm going to assume that you are inconceivably clueless. Continuing that thought, it's safe to say a lot of people rely on me when things aren't exactly fruitful, lively, or wildly ridiculous. My hunch is they're too busy getting inhaled face first by the mammoth monotony associated with the dull duties of everyday life, which takes you to a place of boredom. Pardon the unexpected element of offensive charm that just slapped you but you can't deny it all either. You want what's real, what's hip and what's edgy.

Here's a complete guide to my own recommendations to things. Again, I'm operating off the theory that your interests are about as exciting as long division. Do the math, it's a formula for basking in Napoleonic splendor if you heed to my recommendations.

The Girls Will Flock

If you're a barista, the girls will hunt you down. I highly suggest picking up a second job at a coffee shop, where your time will be well spent growing massively pretentious and incredibly nonchalant to issues not relating to bikes. Girls love bike-sexuals, and by working as a barista you will join the bike-sexual ranks which teeters on the brink of gayness but doesn't quite fall in. Your skinny pants dreams, ironic T-shirt acceptance and inner 'litster' (hipster + literature nerd) will be realized.

Just imagine, sitting in epiphany chairs, writing poetry and reflecting to the dripping sound of coffee and art rock music. And if the mood strikes, you can juggle stale scones and make ostrich sounds for no good reason, too. Girls dig the guy who serves specialized premium imported coffee that contains Arctic seal tears and goat sweat because it makes them Indie as fuck. Girls also love a guy who can make a mean prune punch that purges sin and a soy sock-it-to-me estrogen extravaganza that will polish your aura.

A girl's level of attraction sky rockets when she finds out that you have grand ideas that will never materialize or that you won't even remotely come close to an attempt at achieving them. And she will literally be eating out of your hand, like a perched bird of song, exposing colorful plumage when she finds out that you are a talentless writer or musician.

And I know you're flattered that your picture is posted here, but that's my soaring bird camera pose and I would like it back, please. Were you aware you have a giant coffee ring on your shirt? Jokes.

Urban Slang

At the corner of childish 'your mom' jokes and clever 'that's what she said' commentary sits a pensive library of urban slang that I have created and its gaining heavy rotation among gangster rap circles. The coinage 'That's what your G said' is a response to a female who is acting 'bootchy' (bitch + scary jock itch). G refers to a Gynecologist. Here is an example illustrating how an expression is used in everyday conversation as well as cautionary note for crude, inflammatory, or taboo expression.

Hoodrat: "Daaauym, Oh-no-you-DID'UNT white boy! You stepped on my Pumas. It's about to get ugly up in this bitch!"
Non-hoodrat: "That's what your G said."

Refrain from using this expression when an incident like such actually happens. Because she will actually go and get her G to kick your ass.

Another term that will earn you points in conversation is 'Kumquat glory', which refers to a man shoving oblong shaped vegetables with weird names down his pants in an effort to subdue excitement that may have developed after a graphic joke about forbidden fruit. It's the new ice water down the pants.

I'm not a fan of rinsed out sayings or terms that are sanitized, like 'frack' therefore I fostered a tendency to say 'fuck yes' in celebratory fashion. That term speaks volumes.

The next time you feel compelled to hang out with morbidly obese, gay rappers don't hesitate to toss around the word 'flabulous' like a hot tater tot. And spell it out in song, too. This term needs no explanation.

And remember to always make a fashion statement when in the presence of rappers. Rock a midriff (belly exposed like whoa) knitted, sleeveless sweater with patterns of kittens playing with yarn balls on them.

Fashion

Fashion trends come and go, but here's a trend hasn't come yet and once it arrives, it won't leave. This trend stands alone, conspicuously, yet unaware of itself, like the owner of an ambitious comb over trying to sneak under the radar.

Keeping in mind that I fuse together the right amount of raw eccentricity and self-awareness, I'm projecting that a big trend in men's attire this year will be actually wearing men's attire, instead of raiding your little sister's closet for apparel. Just kidding. Dudes will still shop with revolting homosexual tendencies. I submit to you that wearing decorative pantyhose for men is the next big thing. It's called eMANcipate, if you will, and I hear truckers from afarare calling it the most badass accessory since their hats were featured as hot items of the moment. Truckers say they wear pantyhose during long drives because it feels good, but c'mon, it's for style.

When it comes to hairstyles, shiiiiit, I haven't cut my hair for a sick minute but the cool thing to do these days is to have an erroneous conversation with your hairdresser when explaining to them the style of cut you want. For example, when people pay more than $50 for a haircut at some snooty designer place, they are secretly saying, "If you could make it hard for me to appear in public, that'd be great!" or they genuinely want to look like a clown's apprentice. Art haircuts are awesome! Don't you love it when you ask for a simple cut and hairdressers interpret that to mean you want the style that would emerge if you combined feces and shorbet ice cream. I suggest you get an art hair cut by some girl who sees everything in abstract and prefers to work in the dark.

Recreation

Stoked by sheer pluck, determination and the magical properties of my wayward imagination, I have crestfallen ass first into a new sport that involves grabbing my crotch upon victory and requesting opponents to suck the nether region, while flipping heavy desks, and barking out an offensive play calling cadence that says "I-Quit-42, Blue 42" SET-I-QUIT!" It's called 'Desk Rage' and it's quite fun and exciting to play, though you can only compete while at work.

Another activity I find myself doing that's gaining ground among the kids these days is losing personal belongings like phones, wallets, ID and money, and organizing the largest search and rescue mission possible, only to reach a bitter and disappointing end when you discover that it was lurking in your back pocket the whole time. The neglected back pocket on your left butt cheek. This activity is most often enjoyed when swilling massive amounts of alcohol. Fun little drinking game that's ironically more fun when you suspect your ID is being couched by zombie strippers at da' club. No comment.

Finally, I offer to you the entertaining activity of listening to me. This form of entertainment has its pros and cons, but it's important to note that my sartorial infractions squander the negative eminence. Want to talk about Obama and how a black man has just received the nation's worst job? Great! How about you listen to me explain the super string theory about no-strings attached relationships? Or maybe we can talk about other geometrical shape love relationships that don't include triangles. You love candy corn too? What the fuck's up with their new album?

What can I say? People listen to me. I can tell you to wear a kangaroo jump suit to work and stuff your Joey pouch with marsupial feces and you'd do it, if it were written in this blog, at least I hope so. There is no limits to my demands. I mean, I once ended a relationship by hand picking a guy for her to date, and she did. Word!

By now everyone is familiar with the hype cycle. You know the drill: the ginned-up enthusiasm of publicists combines with word of mouth (and blog) to create something not unlike a baby

Articles appear, posing one of three questions. For the new artist: Is this the next big thing? For the established artist: Will stratospheric expectations be met? For the figure whose stock is down: Can a comeback be staged?

As for my music. I'm listening to too much, that I don't even know where to begin. I'll add that shit later today. The next blog will be up in a few days. Yes, really this time. I will post again this weekend. By popular demand, I'm not even joking about that. Shit, someone even asked to contribute to this blog. My own contributor! So to answer the question, fuck yes this blog is dope!

Time to go eat, the newest flavor of food that you've never had:

Czech-Mex
Thai-Bo-hemian
Bavariasian
Indian-a
Ukrainian Fusion
Turkish-Baath