Now I’m all craggly and ancient, I do spend some time complaining about The Youth Of Today, why they Have It Lucky, and how come they have No Fucking Idea. These two stories I heard yesterday illustrate this perfectly.
Exhibit A: The Flying Carosone was at a BBQ with her pals, and one had a 10-year old daughter. She was all dolled up in bubble skirt, fingerless gloves, big t-shirt hanging off one shoulder and even a side ponytail, a la Stephanie Kaye. The look was totally 1984. The Flying Carosone said approvingly “nice one. You look just like Cyndi Lauper.” Said kid replied “Who?”
Exhibit B: Friend of The Flying Carosone’s uber-posh gay housemates has a 20-year old secretary, with a boyfriend the same age. He is into ‘punk’. They went to a concert by the Blink-182 bassist.
‘Punk’ Boyfriend: It was crap! Crawling with fucking teenagers with no fucking idea!
Friend: Ha ha! Were they all wearing their Ramones t-shirts from Supre?
Secretary: Yeah they were! I like that brand, though.
Secretary: That brand….The Ramones.
Friend (quietly): It’s not a brand.
Secretary and ‘Punk’ Boyfriend: Huh?
Friend: They are…like…(struggling for words)….a seminal punk band of the ‘70s.
Secretary and ‘Punk’ Boyfriend: Oh?
Friend: You know…Joey…..Dee Dee……..? Gabba gabba wee?
Secretary (not to be outdone): Oh, so they’re a band based on the brand, then.
TRUE STORY PEOPLE – YOU READ IT HERE FIRST