Monday, November 29, 2010

Short Bus Shorty

Listen, I'm not saying I'm into infanticide, I just thought maybe we could avoid this sort of thing.

Double Tie-Dye, Oh My God.

Girl, don't go away mad (JUST GO AWAY) so I can watch your meat canyon eat up some more of that rainbow you're wearing. What does it mean? It's full on.

Hippies In The Garbage

My theory of John Candy being alive and disguised as something foul has been realized.

How Was Your Thanksgiving?

Booty calls are turning into booty texts and I get them too often.

Friday, October 8, 2010

OH, I get it. Like a live fish.

Working in the music industry is glamorous until you're forced to go to a festival with a hippie band headlining.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Eeyore's Fucking Birthday

Every year in Austin there is a festival called Eeyore's birthday. It actually ENCOURAGES hippies to gather in drum circles, costumes and crust baths. It's fucking disgusting - which is why I didn't go. Big ups to my gloriously unpaid intern, Bonnie Beaver, for enduring this "festival" and taking this awful video footage. Love you, beavs. Also, congratulations to me for posting my first video to youtube. Prime cinema!

Hail Seitan!

A couple of mouth breathers wrote a song that I can get behind.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


"Dad. I told you to stop giving head to THAT LEPRECHAUN
DENNIS RODMAN me....please."


Is there a fucking hippie in your neighborhood? Or God forbid a drum circle? Take a picture, video or seismic reading feel free to send in your hippie submissions to

Send us anything except things relating to jobs, being a productive member of society, having good hair, etc.

If you're too lazy/retarded to type into your email program then click here.


ISIHALADUTB: I'm Sorry I Have A Life And Don't Update This Blog

Luckily for you two readers I have some very eager beavers (and a couple of proudly unpaid staff members) to do the field work for me while I'm getting drunk in different cities no where near people who aren't wearing shoes, so I've got some pretty ridiculous photos from festivals with names like Eeyore's Birthday (yes, the donkey) and Bonaroo. (I did, however, manage to take this very clear and award worthy photo below myself:)

I was planning on eating at Bughouse Cafe* until I saw this and just drowned myself in shitty frozen fruit sangria instead.

Kim Cattrall is probably not a hippie, but fuck her feet. Seriously.

*Not the actual name of the restaurant. But pretty close.

Thursday, April 22, 2010


"You Know What They Say About Flip Flops and Acid"

This guy was at Coachella, a lot more wasted than I think I've ever been (that's a lie.) But he's definitely in a different world (best show ever) and this should teach people to never, EVER wear nasty flip flops - ever.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

SIWTV: Sometimes I Watch TV

I shouldn't even be admitting that I sometimes see the occasional American Idol episode. It comes on before Lost and my Lost buddy watches it before hand, and, and..whatever, I somehow manage to keep up by watching half an episode a week.


This fucking hippie. I swear, she really makes me feel conflicted about life and my beliefs.

I hate to say it, but she is the best sounding person on that show.

..I know...I know. She even sang Janis Joplin, it was typical and really gross but between that hispanic guy with those black glasses who thinks he's the jam, the lead singer of nickelback and that really poor version of Z.Efron she's really not going up against much is she?

But she has ugly teeth! Ha! Take that!...



So I went to the beach recently. On top of the fact that I found myself in the middle of 100,000 sand castle competition viewers and tourists with absolutely no alcohol for sale, someone tried to sell me this abomination.

It's like someone let that kid that Matthew McConaughey pulls around with a rope tied to a skateboard go ape shit in the walmart shoe department with a bunch of mardi gras beads and a bowl of meth.

It just makes me sad.

This Is Unacceptable

I have two words for you:

Babysitter's Club Vols 1-29

I think if you pull one of those rabbit feet on her shirt one of those bookshelves will spill open with a starved pair of olsen twins, the singer from that band Of Montreal, and probably Jane Fonda.

BEWARE of fashion hippies. It's everything that a hippie normally comes with minus the classic rock and drugs.

Also, the feet. Ughhh, the feet.

Thursday, February 18, 2010



This fucking hippie was so pissed off about paying taxes that he flew his plane into an IRS building in Austin, TX. After the crash, it also came to light that this asshole also tried to murder his wife and child by setting his house on fire earlier the same day.

Now, I'm a Texan. You don't fuck with us. Especially if you're some kind of crazy communist.

Earlier on still the same epic day, this guy wrote a "manifesto" on his blog about why he was about to send his plane into the IRS building. Read it or don't, but the comments are from even crazier communists.

Look at what this stupid f*cking hippie had to say:


If you’re reading this, you’re no doubt asking yourself, “Why did this have to happen?” The simple truth is that it is complicated and has been coming for a long time. The writing process, started many months ago, was intended to be therapy in the face of the looming realization that there isn’t enough therapy in the world that can fix what is really broken. Needless to say, this rant could fill volumes with example after example if I would let it. I find the process of writing it frustrating, tedious, and probably pointless… especially given my gross inability to gracefully articulate my thoughts in light of the storm raging in my head. Exactly what is therapeutic about that I’m not sure, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

We are all taught as children that without laws there would be no society, only anarchy. Sadly, starting at early ages we in this country have been brainwashed to believe that, in return for our dedication and service, our government stands for justice for all. We are further brainwashed to believe that there is freedom in this place, and that we should be ready to lay our lives down for the noble principals represented by its founding fathers. Remember? One of these was “no taxation without representation”. I have spent the total years of my adulthood unlearning that crap from only a few years of my childhood. These days anyone who really stands up for that principal is promptly labeled a “crackpot”, traitor and worse.

While very few working people would say they haven’t had their fair share of taxes (as can I), in my lifetime I can say with a great degree of certainty that there has never been a politician cast a vote on any matter with the likes of me or my interests in mind. Nor, for that matter, are they the least bit interested in me or anything I have to say.

Why is it that a handful of thugs and plunderers can commit unthinkable atrocities (and in the case of the GM executives, for scores of years) and when it’s time for their gravy train to crash under the weight of their gluttony and overwhelming stupidity, the force of the full federal government has no difficulty coming to their aid within days if not hours? Yet at the same time, the joke we call the American medical system, including the drug and insurance companies, are murdering tens of thousands of people a year and stealing from the corpses and victims they cripple, and this country’s leaders don’t see this as important as bailing out a few of their vile, rich cronies. Yet, the political “representatives” (thieves, liars, and self-serving scumbags is far more accurate) have endless time to sit around for year after year and debate the state of the “terrible health care problem”. It’s clear they see no crisis as long as the dead people don’t get in the way of their corporate profits rolling in.

And justice? You’ve got to be kidding!

How can any rational individual explain that white elephant conundrum in the middle of our tax system and, indeed, our entire legal system? Here we have a system that is, by far, too complicated for the brightest of the master scholars to understand. Yet, it mercilessly “holds accountable” its victims, claiming that they’re responsible for fully complying with laws not even the experts understand. The law “requires” a signature on the bottom of a tax filing; yet no one can say truthfully that they understand what they are signing; if that’s not “duress” than what is. If this is not the measure of a totalitarian regime, nothing is.

How did I get here?

My introduction to the real American nightmare starts back in the early ‘80s. Unfortunately after more than 16 years of school, somewhere along the line I picked up the absurd, pompous notion that I could read and understand plain English. Some friends introduced me to a group of people who were having ‘tax code’ readings and discussions. In particular, zeroed in on a section relating to the wonderful “exemptions” that make institutions like the vulgar, corrupt Catholic Church so incredibly wealthy. We carefully studied the law (with the help of some of the “best”, high-paid, experienced tax lawyers in the business), and then began to do exactly what the “big boys” were doing (except that we weren’t steeling from our congregation or lying to the government about our massive profits in the name of God). We took a great deal of care to make it all visible, following all of the rules, exactly the way the law said it was to be done.

The intent of this exercise and our efforts was to bring about a much-needed re-evaluation of the laws that allow the monsters of organized religion to make such a mockery of people who earn an honest living. However, this is where I learned that there are two “interpretations” for every law; one for the very rich, and one for the rest of us… Oh, and the monsters are the very ones making and enforcing the laws; the inquisition is still alive and well today in this country.

That little lesson in patriotism cost me $40,000+, 10 years of my life, and set my retirement plans back to 0. It made me realize for the first time that I live in a country with an ideology that is based on a total and complete lie. It also made me realize, not only how naive I had been, but also the incredible stupidity of the American public; that they buy, hook, line, and sinker, the crap about their “freedom”… and that they continue to do so with eyes closed in the face of overwhelming evidence and all that keeps happening in front of them.

Before even having to make a shaky recovery from the sting of the first lesson on what justice really means in this country (around 1984 after making my way through engineering school and still another five years of “paying my dues”), I felt I finally had to take a chance of launching my dream of becoming an independent engineer.

On the subjects of engineers and dreams of independence, I should digress somewhat to say that I’m sure that I inherited the fascination for creative problem solving from my father. I realized this at a very young age.

The significance of independence, however, came much later during my early years of college; at the age of 18 or 19 when I was living on my own as student in an apartment in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My neighbor was an elderly retired woman (80+ seemed ancient to me at that age) who was the widowed wife of a retired steel worker. Her husband had worked all his life in the steel mills of central Pennsylvania with promises from big business and the union that, for his 30 years of service, he would have a pension and medical care to look forward to in his retirement. Instead he was one of the thousands who got nothing because the incompetent mill management and corrupt union (not to mention the government) raided their pension funds and stole their retirement. All she had was social security to live on.

In retrospect, the situation was laughable because here I was living on peanut butter and bread (or Ritz crackers when I could afford to splurge) for months at a time. When I got to know this poor figure and heard her story I felt worse for her plight than for my own (I, after all, I thought I had everything to in front of me). I was genuinely appalled at one point, as we exchanged stories and commiserated with each other over our situations, when she in her grandmotherly fashion tried to convince me that I would be “healthier” eating cat food (like her) rather than trying to get all my substance from peanut butter and bread. I couldn’t quite go there, but the impression was made. I decided that I didn’t trust big business to take care of me, and that I would take responsibility for my own future and myself.

Return to the early ‘80s, and here I was off to a terrifying start as a ‘wet-behind-the-ears’ contract software engineer... and two years later, thanks to the fine backroom, midnight effort by the sleazy executives of Arthur Andersen (the very same folks who later brought us Enron and other such calamities) and an equally sleazy New York Senator (Patrick Moynihan), we saw the passage of 1986 tax reform act with its section 1706.

For you who are unfamiliar, here is the core text of the IRS Section 1706, defining the treatment of workers (such as contract engineers) for tax purposes. Visit this link for a conference committee report ( regarding the intended interpretation of Section 1706 and the relevant parts of Section 530, as amended. For information on how these laws affect technical services workers and their clients, read our discussion here (


(a) IN GENERAL - Section 530 of the Revenue Act of 1978 is amended by adding at the end thereof the following new subsection:

(d) EXCEPTION. - This section shall not apply in the case of an individual who pursuant to an arrangement between the taxpayer and another person, provides services for such other person as an engineer, designer, drafter, computer programmer, systems analyst, or other similarly skilled worker engaged in a similar line of work.

(b) EFFECTIVE DATE. - The amendment made by this section shall apply to remuneration paid and services rendered after December 31, 1986.


· "another person" is the client in the traditional job-shop relationship.

· "taxpayer" is the recruiter, broker, agency, or job shop.

· "individual", "employee", or "worker" is you.

Admittedly, you need to read the treatment to understand what it is saying but it’s not very complicated. The bottom line is that they may as well have put my name right in the text of section (d). Moreover, they could only have been more blunt if they would have came out and directly declared me a criminal and non-citizen slave. Twenty years later, I still can’t believe my eyes.

During 1987, I spent close to $5000 of my ‘pocket change’, and at least 1000 hours of my time writing, printing, and mailing to any senator, congressman, governor, or slug that might listen; none did, and they universally treated me as if I was wasting their time. I spent countless hours on the L.A. freeways driving to meetings and any and all of the disorganized professional groups who were attempting to mount a campaign against this atrocity. This, only to discover that our efforts were being easily derailed by a few moles from the brokers who were just beginning to enjoy the windfall from the new declaration of their “freedom”. Oh, and don’t forget, for all of the time I was spending on this, I was loosing income that I couldn’t bill clients.

After months of struggling it had clearly gotten to be a futile exercise. The best we could get for all of our trouble is a pronouncement from an IRS mouthpiece that they weren’t going to enforce that provision (read harass engineers and scientists). This immediately proved to be a lie, and the mere existence of the regulation began to have its impact on my bottom line; this, of course, was the intended effect.

Again, rewind my retirement plans back to 0 and shift them into idle. If I had any sense, I clearly should have left abandoned engineering and never looked back.

Instead I got busy working 100-hour workweeks. Then came the L.A. depression of the early 1990s. Our leaders decided that they didn’t need the all of those extra Air Force bases they had in Southern California, so they were closed; just like that. The result was economic devastation in the region that rivaled the widely publicized Texas S&L fiasco. However, because the government caused it, no one gave a shit about all of the young families who lost their homes or street after street of boarded up houses abandoned to the wealthy loan companies who received government funds to “shore up” their windfall. Again, I lost my retirement.

Years later, after weathering a divorce and the constant struggle trying to build some momentum with my business, I find myself once again beginning to finally pick up some speed. Then came the .COM bust and the 911 nightmare. Our leaders decided that all aircraft were grounded for what seemed like an eternity; and long after that, ‘special’ facilities like San Francisco were on security alert for months. This made access to my customers prohibitively expensive. Ironically, after what they had done the Government came to the aid of the airlines with billions of our tax dollars … as usual they left me to rot and die while they bailed out their rich, incompetent cronies WITH MY MONEY! After these events, there went my business but not quite yet all of my retirement and savings.

By this time, I’m thinking that it might be good for a change. Bye to California, I’ll try Austin for a while. So I moved, only to find out that this is a place with a highly inflated sense of self-importance and where damn little real engineering work is done. I’ve never experienced such a hard time finding work. The rates are 1/3 of what I was earning before the crash, because pay rates here are fixed by the three or four large companies in the area who are in collusion to drive down prices and wages… and this happens because the justice department is all on the take and doesn’t give a fuck about serving anyone or anything but themselves and their rich buddies.

To survive, I was forced to cannibalize my savings and retirement, the last of which was a small IRA. This came in a year with mammoth expenses and not a single dollar of income. I filed no return that year thinking that because I didn’t have any income there was no need. The sleazy government decided that they disagreed. But they didn’t notify me in time for me to launch a legal objection so when I attempted to get a protest filed with the court I was told I was no longer entitled to due process because the time to file ran out. Bend over for another $10,000 helping of justice.

So now we come to the present. After my experience with the CPA world, following the business crash I swore that I’d never enter another accountant’s office again. But here I am with a new marriage and a boatload of undocumented income, not to mention an expensive new business asset, a piano, which I had no idea how to handle. After considerable thought I decided that it would be irresponsible NOT to get professional help; a very big mistake.

When we received the forms back I was very optimistic that they were in order. I had taken all of the years information to Bill Ross, and he came back with results very similar to what I was expecting. Except that he had neglected to include the contents of Sheryl’s unreported income; $12,700 worth of it. To make matters worse, Ross knew all along this was missing and I didn’t have a clue until he pointed it out in the middle of the audit. By that time it had become brutally evident that he was representing himself and not me.

This left me stuck in the middle of this disaster trying to defend transactions that have no relationship to anything tax-related (at least the tax-related transactions were poorly documented). Things I never knew anything about and things my wife had no clue would ever matter to anyone. The end result is… well, just look around.

I remember reading about the stock market crash before the “great” depression and how there were wealthy bankers and businessmen jumping out of windows when they realized they screwed up and lost everything. Isn’t it ironic how far we’ve come in 60 years in this country that they now know how to fix that little economic problem; they just steal from the middle class (who doesn’t have any say in it, elections are a joke) to cover their asses and it’s “business-as-usual”. Now when the wealthy fuck up, the poor get to die for the mistakes… isn’t that a clever, tidy solution.

As government agencies go, the FAA is often justifiably referred to as a tombstone agency, though they are hardly alone. The recent presidential puppet GW Bush and his cronies in their eight years certainly reinforced for all of us that this criticism rings equally true for all of the government. Nothing changes unless there is a body count (unless it is in the interest of the wealthy sows at the government trough). In a government full of hypocrites from top to bottom, life is as cheap as their lies and their self-serving laws.

I know I’m hardly the first one to decide I have had all I can stand. It has always been a myth that people have stopped dying for their freedom in this country, and it isn’t limited to the blacks, and poor immigrants. I know there have been countless before me and there are sure to be as many after. But I also know that by not adding my body to the count, I insure nothing will change. I choose to not keep looking over my shoulder at “big brother” while he strips my carcass, I choose not to ignore what is going on all around me, I choose not to pretend that business as usual won’t continue; I have just had enough.

I can only hope that the numbers quickly get too big to be white washed and ignored that the American zombies wake up and revolt; it will take nothing less. I would only hope that by striking a nerve that stimulates the inevitable double standard, knee-jerk government reaction that results in more stupid draconian restrictions people wake up and begin to see the pompous political thugs and their mindless minions for what they are. Sadly, though I spent my entire life trying to believe it wasn’t so, but violence not only is the answer, it is the only answer. The cruel joke is that the really big chunks of shit at the top have known this all along and have been laughing, at and using this awareness against, fools like me all along.

I saw it written once that the definition of insanity is repeating the same process over and over and expecting the outcome to suddenly be different. I am finally ready to stop this insanity. Well, Mr. Big Brother IRS man, let’s try something different; take my pound of flesh and sleep well.

The communist creed: From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.

The capitalist creed: From each according to his gullibility, to each according to his greed.

Joe Stack (1956-2010)


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Hippies On Ice!

Chang W. Lee/The New York Times

Meet Yevgeny Plushenko - a foreign hippie.

He actually looks more like Martin Short in the Three Amigos (farly farly farly farly..)

So let's hope this is a false alarm, and that he's only a guy with neat faces. I'd like his face. I want to take his face...OFF.


Hippies On Film...

One of the pleasures of “Hippies From HELL” is that it takes place in the space between the inexplicable (no explanation is possible) and the unexplained.

“Hippies From HELL” opens this week, and, not for the first time in Roman Polanski’s career, the movie itself is likely to be overshadowed by the man who made it.

With “Hippies from HELL,” Martin Scorsese finds his next “something else.”

*I actually stole these reviews from because googling the term "snobby movie review" only came up with youtube clips of The Critic, and I was too lazy to write one myself.


Monday, February 15, 2010


When I first saw this picture I really thought it was hippie posers. And then I thought, No, no. Who would do that? The thought of someone actually posing to be a hippie just blows my mind straight out to Mars.

So, if there are any of you reading this, feel free to come up with your own name for this ridiculous hippie (poser?) bunch.

Tracy Chapman and the Drapes?

Meth Zeppelin?


Thursday, February 11, 2010

Naked Hippie On Bike: Take 1

Who the hell could enjoy Greek food at a time like this? World (AKA the five of you, my close friends, who read this when I hover over your shoulder and ask you if you've read it), welcome to the Fremont Fair in Seattle.

Ah, Seatlle. Home of so many f*cking hippies they may as well rename the town to Stinkattle. Ok, so penning jokes is not my forte. But do I really need to write jokes about this? This is fucking serious.

Thanks to Kelly, former Seattle resident who came to her senses, for this and many other awful hippie pictures from the Fremont Fair.


Wednesday, February 10, 2010


What the hell is going on up there? It looks like someone Lorena Bobbitt-ed a bunch of CareBears. Which leads me to think about carebears having sex. THANKS, hippie.


Tuesday, February 9, 2010


I love LOST, but this f*cking hippie has got to go. So he can speak ancient-Island. Who cares. Even Baby Aaron could kick this guy's ass. Why do the bad guys in this show have to be hippies? I'd much prefer an ass kicking bad guy that didn't look like he peed the bed until the age of 30. And LOOK at that SOUL PATCH.

However, LOST did redeem itself in this episode later, because even dressed in ugly hippie clothes, Rob McElhenny could never look like anything but Mac.

"This music sounds like whales raping each other!"

Karma Chameleon

You can't just show up to a coffee shop looking like that. It frightens people. Grown people.

I was about to say something, until she turned around.

Submit your hippie pictures at


Sometimes I get questions from people who are worried that what they are doing classifies them as a hippie. I thought it would be nice to share these questions with you in order to displace unsure feelings and give you some outsider insight into whether or not you should take a bath.

Q: Does it make me a hippie if i want to grow indoor hydro chiles in my closet?

A: I'd like to answer in the form of a classic "Pros Vs. Cons" list.


Spicy food is delicious.

Other things grown hydroponically don't tend to disappoint, and chiles are legal!

Growing your own peppers could possibly eliminate jobs being "stolen" from Americans, so the Americans don't have anything to complain about.

Your closet is your closet, and you are not trying to plant chiles in vacant lots, other people's backyards, or street medians like these fucking hippies:

Those flowers are going to look great with dog/homeless piss all over them. Also, I can't eat a sunflower.


See previous photos.

Red Hot Chili Peppers are still a band.

Your friends may be disappointed when they realize they can't smoke what you're growing in your closet and revolt with the angst of 30 juvenile delinquents.

This comes dangerously close to gardening outside, which brings you even closer to almost being a hippie.

Hmm. Seems like the Pros outweigh the Cons -- this time. Just make sure you keep it in your closet and out of the median.


Monday, February 8, 2010

They're Not People, They're Hippies!

Stan: So it seems like we have enough people now. When do we start taking down the corporations?
Hippie (takes a drag on his joint): Yeah man, the corporations. Right now they're raping the world for money!
Kyle: Yeah, so, where are they? Let's go get 'em.
Hippie: Right now we're proving we don't need corporations. We don't need money. This can become a commune where everyone just helps each other.
Hippie: Yeah, we'll have one guy who like, who like, makes bread. A-and one guy who like, l-looks out for other people's safety.
Stan: You mean like a baker and a cop?
Hippie: No no, can't you imagine a place where people live together and like, provide services for each other in exchange for their services?
Kyle: Yeah, it's called a town.

You Don't F*CK With The Jesus

This is the day that Jesus found out that:

1) God was not in fact his dad
2) His mom was "kinda slutty" and a liar
3) His meth problem was about to get a lot worse.

Coincidentally, it is also the day he finally broke down and put up a "Casual Encounters" ad in craigslist and started singing for Incubus.

Submit your hippie pictures at

Like A Surgeon

Ahh, the "OLD SKOOL" hippie. Emphasis on the "kool, man." I want to say more about this hippie but at the moment I'm not entirely sure that he's not Randy Quaid.

Submit your hippie pictures at

But, why hippies?

People ask me all the time why I have a problem with hippies. "But they're so peaceful and accepting." Bullshit. Have you ever met a new hippie? Do you see them have friends that aren't hippies? Elitism. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they all take care of themselves so we, the general public, don't have to.

They're always telling you what to eat, how to dress, and they fucking stink. One time my friend who I watched transform into a hippie with my very own eyes told me that my bangs were in fact blocking my chi from asserting my power as a woman, and that this was proven because it was started by Genghis Khan. And don't even get me started on patchouli.

I'll wear my hair how I want, I don't feel like growing my own vegetables, I like Oprah better than okra and I would never use Dr. Bronner's for even one of it's 1001 uses. If you live where I live you'd find them barefoot at the river, constantly rolling around in dirt, then water, then dirt again to which I have nothing more to say than "FUCKING HIPPIES..."

Thanks to my pal Katherine for sending me this photo of a sign that's posted somewhere I'd like to live.

Submit your hippie picture at