I used to want to live in you, then I got to know you.
You give the illusion of being the cool part of town – kinda indie, kinda gay, kinda artsy, kinda bohemian… but you’re really just a slacker neighborhood in search of a soul with overpriced, rundown shacks being passed off as quaint fixer uppers for spoiled elitists.
I’m sick of your over-sized wide rimmed glasses, girl’s jeans on guys and skinny jeans in general, poor grooming, cheap sunglasses, your overuse of facial stubble (men and women), American Apparel hoodies, fake retro cowboy shirts untucked disguising spare-tire bellies, scenesters vs hipsters, tiki-thai, your retro furniture, dancer stoners, not being able to figure out if you’re supposed to be cool or just a nerd, bad color accents in your hair (especially blue), your senseless street grid, Vans & Converse, sideburns, Trader Joe’s, your anti-elitism elitism, commuting from you to anywhere but downtown, the word “Hyperion”, clever posters advertising garage sales selling retro furniture, gourmand wanna-bes, your once-cool bars turned Weho, thrift stores….and for being next to Atwater Village.
Grow up. Admit you have a poser dog park and that it stinks just like everybody else’s.
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