Note: I have no internets on the weekends, so in my absence, please enjoy this prerecorded hipster joke.
How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
It’s an obscure number. You’ve probably never heard of it.
Disclaimer: I’m not sure why I picked on hipsters. Some of my best friends were hipsters before it was cool. See you on Monday.
I’m really bad at joining groups. Matter of fact, I’m that weird girl with the thick plastic-framed glasses (I mean the pink Sally Jessy Raphael ones from the 80’s, not the cool black hipster 50’s throwbacks) who stands by the chainlink fence really really wanting to play foursquare (the kind with the ball, not the kind that allows Facebook to tell your stalker where you are) but probably won’t get the guts up to come over and ask you if she can play.
Well, there’s this cool group of kids out there and they’re doing some neat stuff and I want to play, too. And since I’m 34 years-old now and totally over the whole elementary school peer fright thing, I’m going to just sidle up next to them and start playing, too, pretending like I’ve been here the whole time, instead of just watching from this chainlink fence every lunch hour for the past week. Continue reading