and before you ask, no, thats not punk rock.

not only that but it would make me not want to go to that alleged pizzeria.

im sorry but i do not want my punkers being human billboards for middle of the road consumerism.

do you?

i live in one of the hotbeds of counterculturalism and the punk rockers are pretty scarce, i dont want them dressed up as subway sandwiches, i dont want them selling batteries out of baby carriages, i dont want to see them passing out free samples of breath mints.

i want them where theyre supposed to be: sitting on their asses, with their hands out, in cute little groups, dressing better than i ever will in a million years.

has this planet completely lost its mind?

once again, i must blame the president.

if the economy was better these kids would be getting handouts from the young and olde alike, obviously noone has any codder for me brotha and now look what you have.

why doesnt nike just have him wear a tshirt that says nike on it?

why doesnt someone give him ten bucks to mow their lawn?

why doesnt abecrombie and fuck just get him a cute little office and a window and a laptop and make him vice president of suck my nuts – it’s all equally wrong and ridiculous.

and good pizzerias dont need to advertise – with signs!

no i dont want to buy a slice from some well meaning bleeding heart who is taking the rock right out of punk by bribing the kids with what they so love: attention and greasey cheese.

im not someone who you’d consider a hisser.

sometimes i’ll be at the pictures and a preview of a bad movie will come on and when its over some in the crowd will hiss.

it usually catches me by suprise, but when it happens i can often see their point.

if i passed by a punker with a placard i would not only hiss but id spraypaint sellout on his pants. look how clean that fuckers pants are.

obviously this man dresses this way to attract girls and congratulations, melvin, youve got your girl. but youve sold out on an ideal that goes back to the 20th century. maybe even further.

punk rock is about eating pizza from a dumpster or stealing it from a yuppie, certainly not earning it you tweaking tard.

its all that radiohead youre listening to. makes you soft.

if youre going to sell out, do it in a big way. not for a slice of za, a big cup of mountain dew and a few bucks.

extra cheese on that mothafucka and shit.

you can only sell your soul a few times, punk rockers.

make it count

and quit being so boring.

instapundit + bukkake + 44 days until her 17th birthday + mr. doc searls of santa barbara