Quote:
Originally Posted by Greedy,Greedy,Greedy
OK, we're done. You can insult me, you can make crude jokes about my mother, you can bash my ethnicities and my religions, you can abuse my scotch, but there is no way in hell I am going to trust a guy who puts down hippie chicks.
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Is my sarcasm too dry these days? Jesus, man... I've more hippie cred than 1/2 the people here.
Ever jumped the fence to get on the infield and get chased around a Dead show by security? Ever found yourself hitting on a chick and realized, too late, she let the hair on her legs grow in? (Which is a step too far.) I've hooked up with a few of the chicks in tapestries spin-dancing to [insert Dead cover band here] at every outdoor party in college, and a few post-college. I appreciate the hippie chicks. And I dig the hippies. That I looked more like Bobby circa 1989 (in terms of the golf shirt and conservative hair; not in terms of wearing too-short shorts) than Jerry doesn't mean I was, to borrow the term for a non-hippie observer from
The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test, a man in "shiny black shoes."
I don't like McIntellect Liberals who were always scattered around the fringes of "crunchy" hippie culture. Those were the people who'd truly kill a trip.
