Some of us are just naturally endowed with big ones. It's what distinguishes the men from the boys, the haves from the have-nots and the rock stars from the fan clubs. Ours are so friggin'massive, we can barely keep our Diesels on.
Introducing Ego. An entire section dedicated to making you the envy Brooklyn, Silver Lake, and Rive Gauche. Not sure what book you should be reading outside your favorite green tea house? Worried that a fellow hipster may see through your nondescript, somewhere-in-Europe accent? We've faced -- and conquered -- the same difficulties. From How-To's and diagrams, to maps and step-by-steps, we promise to initiate your metamorphosis. Or, if nothing else, at least we'll get you to ditch the Uggs.
We've studied you. And quite frankly, we've never been more concerned. Many of you are still wearing trucker hats. You continue to cite The Shawshank Redemption as your favorite film. You think Massive Attack was a German offensive during World War II and the New Pornographers are nestled between Jugs and Hustler in the skeezebag section at Borders. And you shop at Borders. In other words: you're cultural wastelands, the lot of you. Devoid of hipness, you're stranded in a desert of Budweiser-inspired mediocrity. Enter us.
Now, we aren't claiming to be the conquistadors of cool. Being hip, after all, is a journey -- not a destination. And like the road through adolescence, this path is often plagued with insecurity, self-deprecation and acne. That aside, let us say that our freezing point is low. Coolness starts with the heart -- and with us.
