stuffhipstershate:

Hipster Ghettos in Other Cities

Martin: Oh man, I was just on the fucking Chinatown bus for, like, four hours. It smelled like pancakes the whole time.

Seamus: Did you go to Philly?

Martin: Naw, man. Boston. My friend lives in Allston and I haven’t seen him since he got back from hopping freighters for the last six months. He had some crazy stories. He fell in love with some Punk chick from Toledo and he’s getting together the capital to build a cabin up in the wilds of who-the-fuck-knows-where, Ohio, for her. Keeps talking about how he’s gonna bust outta Boston, get his tats removed and open a taxidermy studio up in O-ville. He’s livin’ his life, man.

Seamus: Yeah, but, dude. He lives in Boston? I fucking hate Boston. Fucking Freedom Trail my ass…

Martin: Yeah, man. It’s kinda awful. He kept telling me that Allston was, like, the Williamsburg of Boston. But, dude, all I saw were these fucking college kids everywhere, and these terrible sports bars filled with total fucking poseurs with tribal tattoos and surface piercings.

Seamus: Yeah. All my friends who go to art school live there. I guess there’s supposed to be a scene somewhere.

HEY! I live in Allston Village! This critique is unfair, because the Allston hipster scene is still very underground (via warehouse shows at rugroad and thebutchershop). Word up, LOLston.