There is a litany of truly terrible things to read on the world wide web, but none will be much worse than this: A profile of a 26-year-old New York vegan straightedge influencer who spends US$15 per coffee and considers direct eye-contact a form of privacy invasion.
The profile is of a heavily tattooed West Village resident by the name of Chris Lavish (lord), and was posted to Twitter earlier today where it subsequently caught fire.
This might be the worst thing I’ve read in a while ☠️☠️☠️ pic.twitter.com/sOziF0nDpb
— Brian Vu (@brivu) October 22, 2018
Cop a closer look at the spread in all its horrific splendour.
From word one this entire thing is a complete mess.
Lavish, a West Village resident which is the kind of New York neighbourhood you only move to when you are simply too rich for Williamsburg, lists his occupation as both “Influencer” and “Digital Director“; two job titles that instantly and totally cancel each other out. They are meaningless terms that occupy equal negative space; placing them up against each other is like jamming two identical vacuums against each other.
Next Lavish, adorned in clothes that no doubt cost upwards of $1,000 and yet gifts unto him the kind of look you could see a hundred times over at any shitty hardcore show in a PCYC circa-2008, states that he was on his way to a place called “MachaBar,” because “they sponsor me,” due to him “ordering this $15 CBD latte, and then posting pictures to Instagram.” Ahh yes, the CBD Latte. Because weed might not be legal in New York but handing over a suitcase full of cash to some dippy lunatic for a cup of hot oily ass water certainly is.
The next bit is too wild to pick apart word-by-word, so just enjoy it in all its crapulence:
Their slogan is “Good things come to those who hustle” – when I first saw that I was like ‘wow, that is so me.
Christ.
Old mate’s answers about his ex-girlfriend sends us further down this impenetrably black pit of despair:
Everybody responds so well to the ex jokes I make on Instagram about it. Like “Oh my god, this is worse than my ex,” or whatever. I feel like it makes my audience think “he’s really authentic.”
Authentic.
He’s really authentic.
Of all the things the audience thinks upon viewing this, authenticity surely ain’t one of ’em, chief.
But the most baffling revelation of this entire thing is reserved for the final question; a prompt about why he wears sunglasses all the time. To which our hero responds:
It’s very invasive for somebody to look at you straight in the eye. Like, who let you into my eyes? Who let you in there?
What… the fuck… does that even mean.
Honestly, this might be too much even for me. I simply cannot continue with this article. It’s over now. It’s done. I’m out.
