Archives For Culture

Did you think cross-stitching was just for ladies living in castles in the 1600s? Me too!

Or is that embroidery? Quilting? Knitting? I don’t know.  It’s one of those things for those possessing hand-eye coordination.

Well, you (and I) were wrong. Cross-stitching isn’t just for princesses and ladies-in-waiting. Hip post-grads do it too. They do spunky cross-stitching that involves pop culture references and snide remarks! Which, in hindsight, might be my favorite sort of cross-stitching.

I’ll let the images do the talking and stop rambling. For once.


You can follow the lovely ladies who create these beautiful works of art on the Instagram (@crossstitchwitches) or even the Tumblr ( And then you can buy their affordable yet incredibly well-made items on the Etsy. Want something commissioned? Send them a sweet lil email at crossstitchwitches [at]

I know what all of my Christmas presents are going to be. And Hannukah. Both holidays… with just a dash of Kwanza for politically correctness.

Check this out.

Yes, that is a city bus sporting a PBR full sleeve. Look closer and you’ll see that it went all out and is showing off the tallboy, every hipster’s 16oz weapon of choice for any situation. Viewing party? Tallboy. Alleyway loitering? Tallboy sixpack. House party? Tallboy 24pack. Littering? Empty tallboy can. Taking the bus? Brownbagged tallboy. Shower beer? Two tallboys and a one hitter. Taking the bus that’s advertising tallboys? Use your common sense, cmon. Tallboys all day.

Are you a fucking idiot?

Don’t answer that. You are. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’m pretty sure everyone is. Except my dog. And maybe Jon Stewart.

So how to deal with this new understanding that you are completely useless and more stupid than the rotten bag of potatoes currently chilling in my refrigerator?

Stupid People


Thanks for sucking so much, guys.

I’ve found that the best way to feel better about yourself is to find an instance where someone has been far more idiotic than you can even imagine. And that is why reading comments to things on the interwebs is really the best way to perk yourself off.

Don’t actually feel like reading through the archives of bullshit? Valid.

Still want to read about how:

the world as we know it is going to end if Philly allows for the addition of a third, gender neutral bathroom in all newly renovated municipal buildings?

Or how

that teenage hussy Elizabeth Smart needs to admit she enjoyed being kidnapped and raped?

Or how

the elementary school shooting in Newtown was just a hoax?

You know you do. We all need some reassurance now and again that it’s not a complete waste of time for us to breed. The world needs more children that are stupid but not as stupid as other children.




– Thanks Comment Shaming, you ridiculous ginger fuck.


I am not against cliches if they’re done well. Execution and sticking the landing count in my book, and can overcome a lot in terms of subject matter and narrative devices both novel and trite. So let’s use that as the explanation for why I’m praising a video where hipsters are likened to zombies culturally, then literally and eviscerated lyrically, then physically.

The case for the hipster-as-zombie is cliche but irresistible simply because no one can stop themselves from pointing out any hypocrisy, large or small; and any subculture that dares to act differently will unfortunately turn out to be acting differently all the same way. Hipsters are an easy target for this, we’re all going to farmer’s markets and getting sloppy on PBR and listening to boring indie pop that features a banjo and musical saw for no real reason, right? So we must be zombies. And the spread of hipster culture must be stamped out, like an outbreak from the nearest cemetery.

So here’s Watsky’s take on the Pitchfork/American Apparel crowd. Avoid rolling your eyes long enough to realize that once the mic is dropped, the shotgun will be picked up. Logan Square is full to the brim, and the next in line to fall is Garfield Park. Are you going to do anything about it, or are you going to let those filthy hipsters get your neighborhood next?

And props for using the best kind of zombie: the real one, from a grave, that walks stiff and slow with jacked up body parts. “Viral” zombies that move fast are bullshit.

I get it now.

I get what it’s like to live in a town where there is a musical festival. Dear G-d, Austin I pity you. Wait, let me clarify. I get what it’s like to be in a town where there is a music festival. When you’re too broke to attend.

While everyone else was standing on JFK boulevard listening to their favorite artists and wearing Native American headdresses and ironic red, white, and blue shorts, I was on the outside looking in, or more the inside looking out.  I saw them occasionally, those joyous folk on my way to the grocery store or bank. Their youth was vibrant on their faces and they were all dancing around like they were stuck in some strange Dionysian painting.

And I loathed them. That strange conglomerate of bro-ery I have never seen nor ever want to see  again.

Made in America
All hail Jay-Z and Budweiser! 

I couldn’t get from one side of Philly to the other without being swarmed by a bougie white kid ocean from suburbs all over the east coast.  Where did they all park? It was not a sea I could part. I’m no Moses. Just a sad lil girl trying to get across town so she can convince her ex-landlord to give her the security deposit back.

I heard the excuses: “When you think about it, it’s really affordable. I mean you see a lot of great bands.” Whatever. You know what is also affordable? NOT SPENDING 150 BUCKS. At all. Because that’s half of your rent, damnit, and you’ll use it on rent as insisted you do. “Oh, but we got to be with the young people”, in a CROWD of 1000s. Did that make no one uncomfortable? Or were they all on the young people drugs?

And Philly, how many times are you going to rock the whole “we cut off traffic for the entire city and wear patriotic clothes because we’re American, damnit.” You literally just did it 3 months ago.  I know this city is where democracy started but can you please come up with a new gimmick?  Benjamin Franklin had a better marketing director than this city.

I think we should just all agree that festivals should be in big fields in the middle of nowhere. That would make me so much happier. This city is too damn hot. Any city is too damn hot. Think of the children.

And bros, go home. Your sports bars are missing you.

What? What’s going? Have I suddenly moved to Austin, or possibly a smaller Portland? When did little liberal Vermont get someone as big as Fred Armisen to perform? In a Unitarian Church? The same one that saw Jeff Mangum perform in?

Now in the past I’ve been critical about Portlandia. I feel too many sketches go on too long after the punchline, or that too often the punchline isn’t big enough for the 4 minute set up. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a fan of Fred Armisen’s work, as a sketch comic, actor, and stand up comic.

So fucking excited.

Good work to friends Nathan and Natalie at Vermont Comedy Club.

Good things do come to pessimistic ironic assholes who live in small uber-white liberal northeastern towns. #northernwhitepeopleoptimism


Maybe I’m going out on a limb here, but as a 24 year old, I’m thinking about retirement. Not for the present – odds are I won’t make enough money to ever retire – but more importantly in the future.

There’s no way me or my liberal friends will retire to Florida. The heat, the assholes, the hurricanes, the Stand Your Ground, the Mark Rubio. Include global climate change, and by the time I retire (if I’m not worked to death as a capitalist-corporate peasant), the Northeast and Northwest will probably have summers similar to current Florida.

Some places I may retire:

1) A farm.

Assuming the air pollution hasn’t decimated all people who can’t live about the 120th level of a high rise, ‘taking grampa to the farm’ may be the only way to retire. It’s quiet, there’s decent air, and if the owners decide to take me out back and put me down Old Yeller style, it’s a good way to go out.

2) Geriatric Prostitute House.

As the average age of the U.S. gets older and older, there may be more options for geriatric sex workers. Now sure, it’s not a legitimate ‘retirement’. But I’d get my own room, meals, and even get laid. There’s worse ways to die before the age of 55.

3) Private Island.

I wasn’t born into a rich family, but maybe I’ll win the lottery (you know, like being born into a wealthy family). If that’s the case, I’m getting out of an America where Walmart is literally president, and Exxon Mobile is his (her?) second in command. Since lotteries will regularly reach into the billions of dollars, I’ll be the next lucky billionaire.

4) My favorite bar.

After I retire and get my severance package, I’m gonna go where I’m loved most: my favorite bar. There I will proceed to drink until I go literally blind (I’ll be legally blind by then anyway), or until I die. May as well leave this world the most literary way possible.

5) My grandkid’s house.

Here’s the worst part: By the time I’m 75 my children will have disowned me for the pessimistic asshole I am. Therefore, I’ll be forced to retire on the floor of my grandson’s Frat House. I’ll die in an unfortunate ‘butt-chugging’ episode, but atleast I’ll be close to the ones who haven’t disowned me yet.


Come on.

Let’s stick with animals we can handle as pets. Like cats. Cats are great. You can act uninterested in them and they will act uninterested in you. It’s adorable. It’s perfect.

Or maybe dogs. You can make them wear matching bows and/or bow ties as you if you are so inclined. It could be cute. Think about those little doggy hoodies at American Apparel or matching sweaters. I know I do.

Fish? Fish are also great. You can flush them in the toilet when they die! That’s pretty cool.

But chickens? Chickens do NOT make sense.

Camilla the Chicken

No offense to Camilla,  the Resident Chicken of Sesame Street

Chickens are not cute. They are not fun. They  will try bite when you try to take their yummy little eggs. Meanwhile,  that rooster situation? They don’t just make that crowing noise in order to be your sweet little 10 AM alarm clock. They make it ALL THE TIME. Oh, and BTW. You’re probably spreading salmonella.

Some hipsters have figured this out and have decided to eliminate their chicken problem. But instead of breaking the lil chicken necks  and roasting them for Shabbos dinner as our great-grandmothers did in shtetls for years, they abandon their once-so-chic-but-hard-to-deal-with pets.  LIttle Red Hen is left to fend for herself in the tough streets of Portland or Foghorn Leghorn finds himself fighting Rottweilers for his dinner in an animal shelter.

In conclusion, Hipsters, stop trying to romanticize farming. Leave chickens alone. And if you don’t want your chickens, send them to me. I don’t have money for food.




A new study came out, proving that the term ‘Hipster’ is still a derogatory term – but an entirely acceptable one – to this now marginalized and oft-hated group. (Think ‘punks’, but whiney and without any street cred.) Being a Hipster is great. This blog describes what makes being a self-described douchebag hipster so great. Once you accept the hate, you can let it flow through your veins, course into your soul and let it control your every action.

“10 percent of Americans identify as hipsters — that ill-defined category of urban, overeducated youth — while 50 percent of citizens between the ages of 18 and 29 say they wear the label with pride.”

Hipsters, REPRESENT!


Dear HJ’s,
I’m sorry I have been lax in writing recently; having just finished an undergrad degree in English literature, I have been very busy launching my degree-driven career…. in the food-service industry.

Anyway, I was recently informed that JDate’s yearly Nice-Jewish-Boy-Calendar contest is in full swing. The hopeful contestants must submit a short essay on why they are a Jewish mother’s wet dream. That’s not how JMag is marketing it, but whatevs.

Here are some examples of tasty Jewish boys who would look good in a magazine spread.
Johnathan Lipnicki or Johnathan Lipfuckme? But really, look at that Jew-tat. Yum. Except for the muscles. Which are gross.
Or maybe the sexy, bearded Youtube chefs The Brothers Green?

Cook that meat boys, cook that meat.

To extrapolate further on what kind of man should win this contest if I was running this bitch, I made an outline. Because I am was an English major. Womp.

My Perfect Jewish Man
A) Thou shalt look dirty and be clean.
1.Thou shalt not shave all of your neck-beard so that it looks like a chin-strap.
2. Thou must never completely shave all of your body hair because ew. You’re Jewish. Get over it.
B) Thou must make more money than I.
1. Nu, so I’m old-fashioned?
2. I can’t explain this in any way that is agreeable to what I know to be a progressive feminist following. So I won’t even go there.
C) Thou must have 1+ tattoos.
1. But still shake Abba’s hand and make Mother blush.
2. Be offended by skinny-jeans but wear them regardless.
D) Be religious
1. But in a sexy, let’s-raise-the-kids-Jewish-but-slack-on-fast-days kind of way.
2. Be Orthodox when it’s my time of the month and DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME GODDAMMIT

Be mindful of all my mitzvot criteria, and fulfill them, so shall I consecrate myself to my vibrator….etc etc etc.


I realize that I just wrote what is, in essence, a personal ad…
Haters gon’ hate.