"We're our own special time of people."

This is an excerpt from a conversation with Lou Lou who is in Japan, and who I miss with all the depths of my soul. It is from back in May when I told her "we're our own special time of people", when I meant to write "type". 

She replied: 

"I was confused by the typo at first but actually was able to figure it out. But seriously, at first I thought that you might have spent an evening reading Kerouac/drinking lots of something - and then I was like "nope, not Marg's style to be all hipster-beatnik. Typo."

Lou further proved my initial point, explaining how certain insufferable people who made great stretches of our lives "a death march"* ... "have now turned all hippie-gardeners/hippie-musicians, and are all "man, I love returning to my roots and just kicking back with friends and a beer/nice wine, and making things grow. I love New Brunswick. I love my mom." Which would be fine, I love doing that and love my mum too, except these people are douche-bags in the guise of kindly hippie-types and not worth the nosebleed that result from having to stand two minutes of their awkward "Hiya! How ARE yoooooou?!" cheers, and their self righteous nonsense about how they not only grew their own cucumbers this year they fucking pickled them."

I bolded that last part because it is one of the funniest things I've ever read in my entire life.

*We weren't popular in high-school. Were you? What does being popular in high-school do to a person? Inquiring minds want to know!