the hipster

By now everyone should have heard of the term hipster. The term has been revived as of late depicting a crowd of older teens to twenty somethings that have interests in non-mainstream fashion, organic locally grown foods and indie rock/film. Their general unkept appearence and "don't care" attitude make them easy targets for the rest of society since they are quite different and often referred to as punks, homos, hippies and other negative slang. To conform to the hipster mold, I refer you to the following:

Normally you can find these clothes in thrift stores, posh little shops or on park benches once the hobos fall asleep. Urban Outfitters and American Apparel seemed to fuel the hipster rebirth with their cheap hoodies, plaid tightness, t-shirts and ladies jeans. This revolution seems to be short lived as AA has debt issues, sales declines and general unpopularity with consumers in the respective demographic. In today's day and age, if you wear tight plaid and plastic shades, does that make you a hipster?

I was recently told of my hipster affiliations which caught me completly off guard. In my mind I am not the "iconic hipster" that everyone relates to:

I have to admit there are some simalarities with what I wear and how I act to that of the hipster; but I am not

TTTTTTTTTTTTT   HHH     HHH   AAAAAAAAAAA   TTTTTTTTTTTTT      ^^
TTTTTTTTTTTTT   HHH     HHH   AAAAAAAAAAA   TTTTTTTTTTTTT     ^^^^
TTTTTTTTTTTTT   HHH     HHH   AAAAAAAAAAA   TTTTTTTTTTTTT    ^^^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT        ^^^^^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT       ^^^^^^^^^^
     TTT        HHHHHHHHHHH   AAAAAAAAAAA        TTT      ^^^^^^^^^^^^
     TTT        HHHHHHHHHHH   AAAAAAAAAAA        TTT          ^^^^
     TTT        HHHHHHHHHHH   AAAAAAAAAAA        TTT          ^^^^  
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT          ^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT          ^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT          ^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT          ^^^^
     TTT        HHH     HHH   AAA     AAA        TTT          ^^^^

by any means.


Ok, so it's a fact that I've been wearing a lot of the same clothes since high school and most of those shirts were my dad's when he was twenty something. Over that many years my overall style has not changed; I like snappy shirts, button-up shirts, plaid, stripes, whatever.

Is it possible to transform into complete hardcore, full-on hipster with the inclusion of a few simple fashion items?

I drink cheap beer whenever I can which makes sense cause that way I can buy more! I already have the same music/film tastes. I am not overly concerned with my hair or Sidney Crosby stubble cause 99% of the time I can't see my own head. If I look scruffy I usually get "when was the last time you shaved, a month ago?" Bottom line is, I'm me. Overall, I'm not the most balanced individual, most of you would agree...

Ok Go came to town for what was a hipsterday parade the other week and I totally wanted to match the other hardcore hipsters.

So after this idea is implanted in my brain, real life kicks in and I find myself in Vancouver for a stretch; a perfect oppertunity to gather core hipster wear. What better time to try on a new skin that when you are in a foreign place...?

I traveled across the country with nothing. This meant that I would be forced to wear my skinny jeans while hanging out with my friends for Wu-tangsgiving; ya, thing is, I'm also gangsta.


Once I had acquired said items, I immediately put them on. Let Operation hardcore hipster begin. I did all the stuff that I would normally do over the next couple days, just more hipsterish than usual. Haha... hipster doing stuff... sorta an inherent contradiction.

This trip was amazing but started out with a whole bunch of suck since my camera decided to break. Being an engineer, I felt that I had the ability to correct whatever was wrong with my camera, so I took my point and shoot apart. How hard can it be to fix a stuck lens? As the camera was effectively unusable. I figured that I couldn't break it any more; so I did just that.
Once I couldn't break it any further I gave up and brought the pieces to a camera place. Turns out there was a fucking sandworm in the gears.

Giving up on stuff, like taking apart a camera. Totally hipster.

So ya, I took Frankensteined camera to get fixed fixed. In the meantime, I took my new toy out on an urban photo shoot of dreary downtown; like a hipster would.


I imagined that the people who were at work on this particular Friday thought nothing of this vagrant taking pictures who obviously doesn't have a job and spends his time documenting what it would be like to have a job. To be honest, dressing like this actually helped with this activity. I simply didn't care what others thought, all ambitions went away as I took shots where normally I would not have.

What do you think, myspace profile worthy?

The primary reason for the trip out west was mountain biking. I got to ride down some sweet runs in completely different terrain than the last time I rode in Whistler. This time we convoyed up the mountain where I got to sit in the back of some sweet trucks!

Secondary reason for the trip was Wu-tangsgiving; A gangsta meal of ghetto proportions. We actually stayed in the nicest place ever and had a really awesome family dinner... but the 36 Chambers was a playin' and there were shirts. Now, how awesome is that?


The entire time that I was lounging on the Sunshine Coast my costume provided me with all sorts of benefits I needed to adapt with the climate. If it was cold outside, I just put on the warm flannel and felt insta-cottagey. The jeans were tight and black so in the sun my legs were always warm. The toque provided instant warmth and was small enough to pack in my riding bag so at the bottom of the hill I didn't have to freeze my ass off waiting for the truck to show. Seriously, hipster was the way to dress this time of year, talk about weather versatility!

So what's the problem with hipsters again? They wear comfy clothes, they drink inexpensive beer... ummm, they don't need to wash their hair because of their extensive toque collections.


So really, I think there is nothing wrong with being hipster. I'm hipster. My friends are hipster. That's right, chances are that if we hang out, you've got some in you.


Now lets all sit back and relish in more internet hipster research!


Local hipsters at work! I've been there and the place is awesome. Aunt Olives is awesome too. Go to here:





Based off a Death From Above 1979 album, this remix... and this dude who is absolutely hypnotic:





Lastly, I don't know where this is, but I want to go to there. Check out all the rad hipsters having fun in almost crawlspace sized rooms:

For more pics of this awesomeness, check out The Shop under Parts & Labour Facebook page (click any picture above to get there).

The Bathroom is Disgusting

***UPDATE - Jan.22 2010***

So it's been a while since we've visited the bathroom, let's see what's new!

So no doors yet... was I supposed to get on that? Meh. Now when going for a poop, you can rest your feet on plush new carpet as you gaze into Dave's bedroom!

Little face cloth holder, counter space, the general smell of clean... that's all new!

A towel rack, some art that isn't all butterflies, new tp holder.

CURVED SHOWER ROD and new curtain. If you have never used a shower that had one of these in it, you are doing it wrong. Run over to Home Outfitters RIGHT NOW and get one. DO IT!

The packaging said up to 20% more room and they weren't kidding!

So what happened to our friend little Mr.Garlic? Well he got all big and strong on one end; black and extra moldy on the other end. Alas, I had to throw this out. Every time I walked past the bathroom I could smell it, the scent was not being contained by the shower curtain anymore. When I say I have a green thumb, I mean it! 

I guess next update should be when there's a door. I'm not ripping out fixtures just yet, I have way to many half done projects in other areas of the house. 

Buuut, if there is anyone out there that would like to lend a reno hand... we should talk.

***Original Post***

There comes a point where you just realize that you need to clean. Wherever you may be, that time comes to us all and we just hunker down, bite the bullet and scrape and scrub. That moment of realization came to me last night as I just stood there, bewildered, looking at what has engulfed the bathroom.

The place where we clean ourselves is in my opinion, hazardous to our health.

It is ALL bad.


First off, there's no door. It's the only room with a shower in the house where I live with two or three other people and there is. no. door. 


When I did a major clean-up back in the summer, I removed all of the mouldings and doors in the upstairs and threw them out in a big ass dumpster. Back then I was living alone, so what did I care about having doors? I was sleeping in the dining room at the time so I guess it didn't seem as weird as it should have. Privacy is a state of mind really.


I'm sure I will remedy this... soon?


Secondly, there is a mouldly garlic clove in the shower that has been there for at least eight weeks. It has reached the point where it has started to sprout a green thing that could only be used for reproducing even more mouldy garlics.

Is a shower the perfect environment to grow plants? Time will tell.

At first I was wondering why a garlic clove was even in the shower. I remember one day coming home from work and seeing one John Scroggie who was sitting in the tub with a mouth full of what I was later to learn was garlic. We have no doors remember. John later explained the hippy powers of garlic cloves and their medicinal purposes over the common cold soooo, I guess it isn't that strange anymore. Needless to say, after all the garlic cloves John consumed, he still got rocked with a cold which put him out of commision for a week. 


Diseases 1, delicious spices 0.


There came a point when I actually thought about throwing the thing out, but at that point it had already started to sprout. I was curious to see where this was going so I left it. 


The tub is barely clean enough to stand and shower in, since your feet will inevitably touch the stained ring of doom on the tub floor. I have been washing the floors between sanding and the muck which is the mop water gets dumped into the tub. After about two rooms worth, the water becomes a murky cloud of brown disgusto filth which clings to the soap scum. 


I am wondering if the diluted strength of over the counter bathroom cleaning products will be enough to battle this filth. In the words of one Rachel Wilson; bleach. I'm hoping that bleach will kill all the filth. My feet deserve better...no matter how gross they already are.

The toilet is the most disgusting thing ever, it's like Trainspotting toilet disgusting.





Since the upstairs bathroom has been mostly out of commission, this toilet doesn't get used that often. I guess having the lid down for months at a time has transformed the toilet into a mould growing pee-tree (sp?) dish. There is black on the toilet. Black. It takes a brave soul to simply lift the toilet seat up and gaze at the fun guy that resides inside. Bleach. Bleach or a new toilet, it's yellow after all and 1973 has come and gone.

The washroom also proves to be a great place to store tools and construction supplies it seems. The counter and floor are littered with everything imaginable from extension cords, painting supplies, hand tools, used sand paper, electrical supplies; basically everything and anything that doesn't belong in a bathroom is there. You see, I have the intention of having a workshop in the basement but until last night, it has been filled with all our stuff cause we are in a state of perpetual moving in-ness. Now that the basement is a bit cleaner I think I have enough space to actually put my tools away in their own individual "spot" so when I am looking for say, a caulking gun, it will be in the caulking gun spot and not on the upstairs bathroom counter.

Clean up your toys Kevin...

I even have a box of stuff to "fix injuries" that has been sitting on the counter since day one. Over a year in the same spot on the counter and not put away. It is filled with gauze, band aids, rope, etc. I guess I like to have these things readily available since I am Kevin Janok, and to be without wounds is simply uncharacteristic of myself. Ridding myself of these moving boxes will be a great victory for me and will solidify the fact that I have officially moved in.

Last, but not least, is the film that coats everything in the bathroom. It has probably been months of construction which has included drywall work, demolition and re-finishing the upstairs floors TWICE! This room is in serious need of a wipe down, but in order to do that, all the crap from inside needs to go.

Knowing myself, when I actually come around to cleaning the damn thing, I bet I'll start ripping out fixtures left right and center. Before I know it, I will have entered full on renovation mode where we will be sans shower for the course of a month leaving us with no where to get clean other than the wash tub in the laundry room (a la John Scroggie Saturday night)... 


I wonder if I should just get a maid to come in and deal with this, because seriously, this is one project Kevin does not want to tackle.

My House in the Middle of the Street

I think the best thing I have ever done for myself was buy a house. I waited a very long time for this place, but it was worth it. I have so much fun fixing it up, having people over and simply doing nothing.


Take last night for example. I have been busting my ass on these floors since Friday, running on pizza, soda pops and little to no sleep. My body aches so much right now. All my joints are swollen, I couldn't get my ring off even if I wanted to. I think I am finally feeling the effects of getting old. Normally I am invincible and I can work work work forever and not feel the aftermath. Guess things are changing. But this floor project is big, I took on more than I could physically handle. Irregardless, which is not a word, I am getting the work done and the fruits of my labour are not only sweet, they are delicious.

Fast forward to 9:30 last night. I just finished all the touch-ups where the old varnish wasn't completely sanded off so there were yellow patches on my dark brown floor. Once sanded down to bare wood, I would wet it so the pores were open and then apply stain and then buff it out. 


So the stain job was done, I'm a mess and people are at the door, awesome. I mean I got the full on French Canadian rat stache, haven't showered in 3 days, slippers, work pants and my "I Hate Peyton Manning" shirt on. 


Class. 


So we open a few beers and start shooting the shit standing in the kitchen that is currently filled with parts of the bedrooms, the living room and where all the plants were moved to, listening to some tunes coming from the other pile of crap in the dining room. All of a sudden the music stops and Dave goes into the rubble to fix it. Here is a snippit of what was to come.






That was created with sound bites that were recorded in the dining room at a time when only Dave's recording studio was in there. We just said some random words and then he did his thing with them; magic. 


I think one of my favorite things to do is drive around in a car with Dave Ledoux. He rocks out with all the hot moves; the power snap, the finger waggle, the no-no-no's followed swiftly by the ya-ya-ya's. Seriously, did you see that? He's rocking the fuck out and loving every minute of it. 


Dave Ledoux, I love that guy (that's what she said). Life certainly isn't boring these days. 


Since I had 3+ hours of waiting until the next coat of varnish on the floors, we went to Quinn's. It's Sunday night, what else is there to do?


I am beyond exhausted so after a pint of 50 deluxe, I was fighting the power naps. Everyone had a blast rocking out on open mic. It's always a good show when the Dave and Scrogg duo do their thang. There was a point where I knew everyone in the bar and it was like we were just chilling out. I turned and looked at John and said "this feels a lot like my place." 


Really, the only thing that changed was the room we were in. 


Janok Estates is the epicenter of awesomeness. Life is good, which is awesome.

I am of age

Seriously, I am not 17 years old. If you are a bouncer at a bar then yes, you can see my ID. If you work at the beer store, then you get a reluctant yes, you can see my ID. If you work at Best Buy and I am trying to buy a video game, there is no need to see my god damn ID. "Aaaand can I see a piece of photo ID with your date of birth, you don't look old enough to buy this game." Go fuck yourself Best Buy guy. Go back to your fucking basement and play some more fucking Dungeons and Dragons. I have never been more insulted in my life. I am 28 god damn years of age, who the fuck are you Frodo telling me that I don't look old enough to get a VIDEO GAME? You ever hear of Movember? Mustaches for Kids? I am an adult who is growing a mustache for kids which is a great charity. I didn't just get out of my history class and take the bus across town to go to a different Best Buy cause the one near home knows who I am and would never sell a child a copy of this rated R game. I was having such a great day till now. There reaches a point when it no longer becomes fun to get carded and there are certain places that simply do not need to see your ID. If I was renting a car then there would be no issues. The lame asses of society and their fucking power trips. You work at Best Buy. I bet at night time he is a security guard too, maybe even a duty manager! How many 17 year olds have platinum Visas? What about engineering rings? Asshole! Well, now I can't wait to play my rated R video game. I will enjoy slaughtering all the underagers from the interwebs. GAH!