The captain of the beer garden urges you to drink responsibly and embrace your inner douchebag.
This kid again. He likes the Hornets, in case it wasn't clear.
This fellow makes a hard-to-pull-off ensemble look easy.
Thick sunglasses with an attached, dangling mustache say so much: is he a hipster? Is he a jock, making fun of hipsters? I didn't give two shits, so I didn't ask him.
Skrillex's cousin works construction.
Yoda goes for a walk through Dagobah.
This much is certain: if you attach sleigh bells to your child's feet, you (and the rest of us) will always know where the little tyke is.
I can only imagine the swampy stink-foot that's been crammed into these weather-inappropriate boots.
People, please wear comfortable, well-fitting shoes to a day-long music fest, lest you find yourself with bulging blisters on your sad feet.
I generally showcase my preference for marijuana through my socks.
Although this looks like a terrible mistake, at least the hair will grow back. New skin won't cover the millions of ill-advised tattoos that surround us.
A hipster unironically whacking another hipster.
"With a star in my moon catching net." I would have added a hyphen in there, but I guess I'm just a stickler for grammar. And an advocate for thinking before inking.
Why would one do this to oneself?
My research shows that this gentleman is from a cold-weather tribe in a beer-swilling, cheese-eating region. Specifically, this person hails from the meat-packing territory. Further research shows that his footwear is universally condemned as disgusting.
What would Lance Armstrong do? Probably sit amid a field of assholes and watch some shitty bands.
The future is now, and there is no hope.
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. I'm not the beholder, so I don't see it.
Exposed pockets were popular this year with the teeny bopper set.
Matching dread set, his and hers.
Next year, on spring break in Costa Rica, she'll try to buy a bag of weed off a guy, only to get grass clippings. One love!
