girl pants and pbr: where did we go wrong

i have to admit that in the past few months i have induldged in the dirty habit of drinking pbr. but when i do so i don't pay 3 dollars for a can of it at some psuedo dive bar that for kitsch value has a mohawk donned fag pretend to dj and play bizarre retro dvd's. i sit alone in the dark, or sometimes with the posse, and wish i had enough money to enjoy a real drink. in other words, i don't advertise the fact that, on occasion, i drink shitty beer. so on my nightly walks imagine the horror i felt witnessing not one, but multiple people walking down the street in girl pants drinking pbr as they mosyed from place to place. oh, and to clarify this was boys in girl pants.

10 years ago we used to roam the streets, like any respectable vagabond would, with our jnco baggies and our clandestine flasks of mountain dew and vodka. our poison was quick, our pants comfortable and in some cases functional. but i still have to think that this new epidemic is somehow our fault, somehow we paved the way for this abomination.

maybe it was when we stopped listening to nine inch nails and started listening to belle and sebastian. maybe it was when we decided to classify ourselves gen x and look down mockingly on this new gen why or whatever they want to call it. i really don't know but i can't help but feel that somehow it is our fault.

or maybe i just feel guilty for listening to my chemical romance.