They do a lot of what they call "sneak peeks" where they take pictures of the homes of people who are actually rich and cultured and can afford to buy real art and custom wallpaper.
Usually, I love these. Even though there seems to be a severe overabundance of fur draped over uncomfortable looking chairs, I think it's interesting to see how people style their houses.
These home tours have been known to elicit a wide range of emotions from me - envy, inspiration, envy, disgust, envy* - but up until yesterday I had yet to come across one that made me feel annoyed.
At first glance, it looks like many of the other houses they've toured, but what makes this one especially aggravating is the text below each photo, which is provided by the owner of the house.
I originally saved this screenshot (under the filename snooty hipsters, which was eventually shortened to snipsters to save time) so I could send it to Sarah on account of its being so snooty and hipster-y. But then I scrolled down to Exhibit B and found I couldn't tear myself away.
So what you're saying is you've been putting your sweet old granny to work so you could seem more art-y and cool? It took longer than I expected because she kept on sending me these non-round-beautiful ones and I was like STEP-GRANDMA! WTF? I ONLY WANT THE GOOD ONES! I DON'T CARE IF YOUR BACK HURTS; GET BACK OUT ON THAT PORCH!
Okay, is this chick for real? I wouldn't dream of making a chandelier out of any old paper; oh no. I feel that the fact that I destroyed a work of literature makes it so much deeper and more meaningful. Of course I'll never be able to read that book again, but God knows I'm too busy being fabulous to have time for things like reading anyway.
I couldn't stand to read anymore so I took the liberty of writing my own caption for the next photo.
Oh, this old thing? It's my body. It's made from 100% found materials. Can you believe someone left these perfectly good legs lying around in in a dumpster??? (Naturally it was a vintage dumpster or I never would have considered perusing its contents. New things are just so...yucky.) Each of the hairs on my head were individually plucked from the tail of a different wild horse. (Domesticated horsehair lacks the level of unbridled luster I was looking for. Oh, a pun! I didn't realize! I continue to surprise myself daily with the depth of my own wit.) I took these shoes off a dead hobo and there's an alcoholic leprechaun who lives in the fireplace. He likes to joke that it gets a bit "draft-y" in there. Again with the puns! I kill me.
As if all this wasn't enough to make me hate this girl, here's the final nail in the coffin: a picture of her touching a cat. On purpose.
Here's the link to the full sneak peek in case you're thirsty for more.
*Okay, maybe not that wide a range.