An Open Letter to the Hipsters set to Invade Windsor Terrace

Dear Sirs and Madams,

Please stay away from my neighborhood. We do not want your type coming in and opening your stupid fucking coffee shops.

Lonelyville? Crossroads Cafe? (Yea, I know I came in to Crossroads that one time I was high as shit, but that muffin still sucked and only served to increase my dry-mouth). We don't need any fucking cafes in Windsor Terrace. We don't need overpriced coffee and chai tea or fucking clif bars and soy muffins, ok. We don't want a place with wi-fi where we can work on our novels about alienation and childhood trauma centered around that sort of quirky and weird yet strangely cute girl we had a crush on in our white, suburban high school. I'll get my fucking coffee and a bacon egg and cheese from Adam's or Terrace bagels (even Blondie's in a pinch). Got it motherfuckers?

That's what I want my coffee in, dicks. And another thing---I want fucking bud, bud light, and guinness at the fucking bar. All a bar has is bud? That's fine, Farrell's. I don't want no fucking PBR and High Life as my main source of drunkenness, so don't even try and open a satellite bar, Last Exit. I appreciate your trivia night, but keep your fucking Sierra Nevada the fuck away from the area between the park and the cemetery. We got R&B, we're set.

Don't even bring that shit in here. I know you're getting priced out of Manhattan and Cobble Hill and Park Slope, but just fucking go away. Jeans and a t-shirt is cool, but why are your jeans so tight and who the fuck is Che Guevara? Don't wear that queer ass shirt. Why does your friend's t-shirt have a picture of a hungry, hungry hippo? It's not ironic!!! And tell that girl with the square-framed glasses to take off that F train shirt for chrissakes. Your sweater is too small and your blazer is too plaid, so just stop it.

And take off that fucking trucker hat too, you cumstain. The fuckin Peaches, Fizznuts, Eels, Ataris, Taco Sauces and all the rest are not fucking better than my music. The White Stripes and the Strokes got some play on MTV, but you're fucking hip and counterculture so fuck them now, right? Juno was not good...at all. And if Diablo Cody gets a fucking Oscar then I should get one for my upcoming screenplay: How Godzilla Saved the Mets.

And fuck that pie shop too. It was good, but fuckin $4.50 for a shepherd's pie the size of my palm ain't doing it you queer aussie shitbricks. But back to my point dear hipsters. Please just skip over this neighborhood. I know you want to find somewhere kinda cheap in Brooklyn so you don't have to go back to the suburbs of Portland, Oregon, but please just try and cram some more into Williamsburg. They have Asian-fusion restaurants and everything! You'll like it over there, I promise.

Listen, I know accents and talking to your neighbors scare you, so just do yourselves a favor and ignore the F line past 7th Avenue. It will be better for everyone that way.

Sincerely,

Dtro

P.S. Fucking cunts

P.P.S. This goes for you older hipsters trying to start families too. You better have the money to send your sons Coltrane and Jimi (it's like Hendrix, isn't that cute?!) to Berkeley Carroll. Cuz Mikey and Jimmy at Holy Name will make them bite the fucking curb.