Anyone who ever sold pot in the 80′s had an afghan like this on his bed, so I can only imagine how many deals went down on these pants. You could probably get enough shake out of these for a bong hit.

But you know, that’s how people bought pot back then – they went to some guy’s house. They didn’t have medical marijuana and the dispensaries and the fancy shmancy prescriptions. No, they had to drive out to bumfuck, and sit on some guy’s afghan while he made you a “lid”. And you couldn’t just leave once you got it, because that would be rude. You had to smoke some of it with him, and watch Star Trek for 20 minutes while your friend Debi waited in the car and smoked her mom’s Parliaments.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard.

STOP MAKING CRAFTS WITH YOUR BODY PARTS

Stop knitting with your pubic hair and sculpting your ear wax and saving your cuticles to throw at weddings. Just stop it right now.

Jesus would you look at that? That is enough to put me off my feed. I swear to God I saw something moving in there.

Oh, I know what you’re going to say. “People often made crafts with their hair in Victorian times!”

Wow, that’s really interesting. Oh look at the time! It’s 2011. We don’t die of black lung, we don’t get run over by horse drawn carts and we don’t have to sit around making shit with our dandruff.

WE HAVE YARN NOW

Whenever I see images like this, I think…good for you.

Good for you for rejecting all socially-imposed forms of beauty standards. Good for you for not buying into culturally-induced body shame and self-loathing. Good for you for throwing off the shackles of the patriarchy, and striking a blow for feminism.

No, I’m fucking with you. Get a razor, hippie.

After I posted this piece about hippies today, I got a lot of email and a lot of comments, both here and on Facebook.

Many of these comments were very thoughtful, and made me examine my position carefully.

After thinking about it, and hearing your suggestions, I think I’m going to try kale.