THE CHIVE MENTALITY 

Loser in Passing #1: Chive on!

Loser in Passing #2: Chive on!

Me (aka Loser #3): Fuck off!

Abuzz with their initial popularity, a website, that basically did not a damn thing other than repost funny shit they found on the internet, leveraged the inanity of their fans into a honey pot of pop culture vis a vis social media.

This amazes me and I give all the credit to the business minds that managed to convince a bunch of drones to buy purposely cryptic t-shirts so that they could all identify each other wherever they went. But you can't wear the same shirt every day so you MUST buy more than one. What a genius business model!

But let's discuss these vestments...two of them in particular: the KCCO shirt and the Bill Murray one. First of all, I am absolutely sick and fucking tired of everyone marginalizing a poster, that was designed to bolster the spirit of a people that were being bombed by the Nazis on a daily basis, just for the sake of humor or, in this case, to sell shirts and create one of the most insipid fucking greetings known to man. If you don't know what KCCO stands for yet I'll leave you blissfully in the dark. Besides, I'm not positive, but if I divulge the key to crack this code I may be subject to the sting of ostracization from ever becoming accepted into this hive of douchebaggery. Assuming that is the case, I'd more than welcome that distinction and only don't type it here as it would cause me physical discomfort to do so. The real sadness is that bit of historical larceny encompasses the vast majority of the Chive's creative output.

But they couldn't mercifully stop at the shirts. Their followers can drink a bottle of beer made specifically for those in this nothingness of a community. They can all now identify each other at any drinking establishment infested with this less-than-inspired crap. If you drink KCCO and think it's good, you're either tongue dead or a douche...possibly both. "But the money from the sale of each bottle goes to charity!" Yeah. I've heard. More on that below.

That second shirt has a likewise not-all-that-mysterious acronym attached to it: BFM. This is not your Best Friend Mike, but Bill Fucking Murray. These Chivesters (no, I don't give a shit what the "proper" term is) act as if they own the right to be the only ones to bask I'm the awesomeness that is Bill Murray. Most of these pretentious slackers are late-comers to that party having mostly been born since the release of Caddyshack. Newsflash! He was quite awesome before he was canonized by you bunch of pathetically needy hipsters in desperate need of a hero.

But there is definitely money changing hands here for these banners of hipster inclusionism (shouldn't that be a dichotomy?). But what says a Chivester? The money goes to charity? Well that makes the ridiculousness of this much-ado-about-absofuckinglutely-nothing as morally and socially acceptable as a fraternity house raising money for the United Way whenever they're not drinking their pledges to death or date raping co-eds. Okay, that's an unfair generalization of fraternities as many are upstanding organizations, but I went to Rutgers where the described behavior was all too prevalent and apparently still is. I'm also not suggesting that Chivesters engage in activies as heinous. I am merely trying to illuminate the smoke and mirrors involved in both. But back on point here...as assuredly as a campaigning politician can find room in their "war chest" to "do some good" (read that as "make themselves look more human than the parasites they are") the people at the Chive surely make their money first before a single dollar is turned over. And what more, they rally their rabid and obedient fan base to give even more to select charities linked to their site. This smacks of a bit of a millionaire, left-wing celebrity (that should also be a dichotomy) asking us all to help the poor, starving children of a country that most Americans couldn't find on a map.

But I'm getting away from why the Chive sucks. Okay, it's not the Chive that sucks meaty donkey balls; it's the Chivesters. You're not a cutting edge secret society of do-gooders. You're really just a bunch of socially inept, low attention span drones who like to laugh at funny Willy Wonka and Game of Thrones memes and GIFs of cats being cats and guys taking shots to the nuts. You have an amazing capacity for being easily bilked out your expendable income so you have a visual tool to wear to meet other tool-draped tools. Sincerely, that's what social skills are for, or in lack of those, alcohol. 

Said shortly, I will NOT keep calm and I will most certainly NOT EVER Chive on. So fuck off! Oops, I gave away the secret code. What's that buzzing? I think they're coming for me. Nope, just a swarm of pelotonus cyclidae, pissed off at my previous entry. Now where did I put that quinoa gun?

NOTE: Don't EVER confuse the Chive with the Onion. Although, vegatively speaking they're in the same family, the websites have nothing in common. The good folks at the Onion are absolutely and creatively hilarious while at the same time poking fun at the misbalances in our world through allegory and inversionary tactics. They're basically Jon Stewart where the Chive is more Jay Leno.

PELOTONUS CYCLIDAE

"Share the road." - The most unintentionally ironic statement made by someone in a skin-tight onesie.

Each spring, as the air grows warmer, the dark recesses of the Northeast disengorge a plague that has been waiting for its first chance to emerge from its winter hibernation. It's a pervasive and colorful species called pelotonus cyclidae, more commonly known as the Cyclist.

Once the air temperature exceeds 40 degrees for more than two hours in a row, the cyclist begins to slough off its outer coating of Underarmor, Arch'teryx or North Face fleece to reveal the brightly-colored, form-fitting trappings that help other cyclists identify the others' equipment affiliation or other hipster-like interests, if there any other interests outside of flockimg together on their two-wheeled conveyances of freedom from the mundane, boring and all responsibility for self-preservation.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS AND SOCIAL STRUCTURE -Wool caps are discarded in favor of what may have once been painter's caps but are now constructed of space age materials and lavishly decorated with branding in order to raise the costs beyond those who should not be allowed to don these affectations. The cap and the onesie's markings are carefully chosen in order to announce the individual cyclist's economic and social standings. This in turn establishes the pecking order. Interestingly enough, this overlying social order does not determine anything from a mating perspective, despite the colorful show of "plumage", leading many sociologists to conjecture on how the breed procreates at all. This is a further mystery considering the scrotum-squeezing tightness of their onesies and the nut-crushing anatomy of their preferred stoops. Wrap-around eyewear are one of few accessories that remain year-round and can alternately be found on top of their heads when outdoors and covering their eyes when indoors. This seems counterintuitive but is believed to be a way to exhibit their ocular abilities to withstand luminal extremes.

INDIVIDUAL AND GROUP BEHAVIOR - As each cyclist emerges, a call will go out to others of the species to join in the fun. The resultant swarm, know as a peloton only when sanctioned by a higher authority, will manifest on the roads during the most congested of hours. It is thought that pelotonus cyclidae purposely chooses its time and locale in order to increase the visibility of its colorful trappings and display to all, who couldn't care less, how much they've spent on their chosen past time. Of course, this results in conflict with those of other, less fortunate species, who can't afford to drop a couple thousand dollars on a vehicle powered almost entirely on overpriced coffee and high protein bars. The swarm is also known to gather together at houses of legislation to further make commuting life for the rest of us suckier than it usually is. Many sane people have concluded that if pelotonus cyclidae could only alter their migration pattern and timing of their emergence to avoid the hours and places when the majority of people who, in the estimation of the self-righteous cyclists, just don't get it, the world would be better for all and become safer for a species that seems bent on road domination.

CONSERVATION - Few efforts have been made to preserve this species by the masses or pelotonus cyclidae itself. Suicidal or, at best, indifferent behavior has been exhibited as large groups of cyclists will stretch out across busy byways designed for motorized vehicles so that they can talk to each other about what one can only assume to be the best way to relieve ass sores or the efficacy of acai juice in dealing with ass sores or the best materials, in the sweetest of colors, for avoiding ass sores or the latest litigation against bicycle seat manufacturers complaining of ass sores or if its really worth getting a subscription to Ass Sore Digest when you can more conveniently pick up a copy when grabbing a kopi lupek skinny lattte with coconut milk at your local Douche Mug Cafe.

OUTLOOK - Although, as a group and lifestyle, cyclists are insufferable and annoying, they are worth keeping around, if not for entertainment purposes alone. The pervasive frustration felt by the rest of us would lead one to think that there should be some sort of insecticide developed to eradicate the loathesomeness of the swarms, but taken on an individual level, pelotonus cyclidae can be actually quite fun and personable, if not completely clueless as to how the rest of society reviles them. So please, when the swarms emerge, be aware of their presence and wary of their migratory vagaries. Education and assimilation of the species is preferable over extinction. Plus, replacement of bumpers and fenders can be expensive.

NOTE: I'm aware that most cyclists outfits are two-pieced but it's a shit ton funnier to refer to them as onesies.

AN INTRODUCTION

I find that there are so many things that just aggravate the SHIT out of me. Mostly it's due to my lack of patience and inability to suffer fools, idiots and posers. But it's born out of the fact that people are so self-absorbed that they pay no attention or regard to anything outside their happy, ignorant worlds. Everyday proves to me that ignorance is indeed bliss and awareness of self and others is a blessed curse.

So, in order to vent off the frustrations caused by the fucknuts of the world, I will lay out these aggravating dealings with all prejudice, foul language, graphic detail, overly expansive vocabulary, needlessly harsh judgment, biting sarcasm and downright cruelty as I feel necessary.

This exercise is for me, not you. So if an entry is not your liking or hurts your sensitivities, fuck the hell off and go read a blog about cooking with the wonderfully diverse varieties and incredibly nutritious quinoa.