They make me freak out. I mean really, is it that hard to :
wash.
WASH.
comb your fucking hair.
3a) CUT YOU FUCKING HAIR.
Stop living in the damn past.
EAT SOME FUCKING MEAT.
What I hate even more than regular hippies are those bastard ass ‘neo’-hippies. You’re not even old enough to buy your own damn beer, what the hell do you think you’re doing, living in the mo-fucking 60’s??? GIVE THE FUCK UP!!
To be fair, I do know some semi-functioning older hippies. My friend’s parents are middle-aged hippies. They shower and wash and, even if they do smoke weed, never smell like patchouli. So they aren’t all rank-smellin bastards. Thank god for small favors.
Having gone to a school with a huge hippie population (UC Santa Cruz), I can agree with many of these. Especially the smell. Yikes. Riding the bus with a bunch of people who think deodorant is morally wrong or something…ugh. But.
Why the FUCK do you care what other people eat? Don’t you have better things to do with your life?
I care when my hippy-ass landlords won’t let me cook a fucking steak in my damn apartment. Type II diabetics can’t live on couscous, polenta and friggin spaghetti, 24-7. I care when they try to force their dietary preference on ME.
Ahhh… I remember coming home from my girlfriend’s one “night” a few years ago at about four a.m. and finding my housemate hosting innumerable hippies that followed him home from a Phish concert. Every horizontal surface was occupied by hippies, the place was lit with dozens of candles, and there was a DIY dead-jam recording on the stereo.
What I remember most was the mountain of shoes. Really-- a huge pile of them, right there in the living-room. The only free space left was pretty close to it-- and my god, the pong that was coming off it. I kept gagging, and thinking that I was in real danger of puking on my carpet.
I remembered a scene in Allesandro Jadorowski’s Holy Mountain in which a group of mystics were on a hermetic quest to gain the Key to the Absolute, (in a nutshell,) and were complaining about the presence of a Christ-like thief who had joined their number. “He stinks!” Enlightened master: “When your journey is complete, you will love his smell.” I grabbed onto this idea defensively, and transmuted the stench into a pleasant human aroma. Breathed deep and savoured it as though it was a stack of rose-petals. It was wonderful.
Somehow, I don’t think that I’d have been able to pull it off without all the MDMA and hashish that was going around, though.
Wow. That’s really rude (of your landlords). They shouldn’t care what you eat, either. I say you cook your steak, and fuck 'em for being such busybodies.
yeah, its kinda bunk. They’re fairly clean and pretty nice as hippies go, so I’m really reluctant to tell them to blow it out their collective arse, but… AWW, FUCK IT! I’m gonna go cook me some sausage.
I’m too young to be an authentic hippie and too old to be considered a neohippie but I guess I’m one anyway. I just prefer communal living. And good LSD. And I have the hair
I do bathe though.
And for now ::crosses fingers:: I’m a fully employed tax-paying hippie.
I’ve met a lot of hippies who were all peace-and-love-and-tolerance-and-enlightenment-and-Eastern-philosophy on the outside, but just below the surface they were uptight fascist control freaks. Other than that, the thing I hate most about lots of hippies is their eagerness to swallow any kind of goofy pseudoscientific quack medicine-type bullshit they hear. (They won’t dare to use Lotrimin to treat the 9-inch-wide fungus rash that covers their ass because it’s Linear Western Medicine, but they’re happy to inject street drugs.) Also, their music sucks.
[Neal]
<beep beep beep>
Oh no, heavy, the coins keep coming out.
<beep beep beep>
I wish everyone lived a pastoral existence. Flowers and trees don’t deliberately cool you out, and go beep in your ear.
[/Neal]
