I recently added a Google Adsense banner to the sidebar here on the blog. Why? To see if anyone would actually click on the ads, enabling me to make tens of pennies a day off this thing. Another reason: the program attempts to match advertisements with the blog's content. When I published a post about urban chicken coops in March the banner was filled with poultry-related ads for over a week. A recent post about a baby shower resulted in numerous ads for tot accessories.

Yesterday, I noticed this "therapy for hipsters" ad for a local therapist. I wonder what inspired Google Adsense to cough up that one. I can only assume it was the "I wanna go hug Nixon in 1977 and maybe give him some hot cocoa" line from that Frost/Nixon review.

But, now that I think about it, my skinny jeans have left me with a pyschological "not so fresh feeling" lately. Maybe I should make an appointment with Dr. Guenther to discuss the problems that have been bogging down my hipster lifestyle. I'm definitely going through a rough patch. My brand new, limited-edition Chuck All-Stars squeak when I walk around in them and that last Girl Talk album just doesn't sound as good as it did when I first heard it at the Dunes. Also: the stylist at the Bishops on Alberta cut my hair too short so it'll be at least another couple of weeks before I can get my trademark bedhead look just right again.

Things that I thought were kitschy and hilarious just aren't very kitschy and hilarious anymore. And, dammit, I was the first person living west of 81st to start drinking Miller Hi-Life ironically. Now everybody does it.

*sigh*

Labels: hipsters, mental health