NYC 2030 is what the politicians of today envision New York City to look like and operate as in the year 2030. 

The NYC 2030 plan goes in depth as to how we will use our land, keep our water supply, transport ourselves from point a to point b, obtain clean energy, improve our air quality, and reduce our global footprint to help subside the rise of temperature and possibly stop global climate change.

What the plan doesn’t go into is this: How will actual New Yorkers be physically? 

The answer to that questions is simple, most New Yorkers will be deaf and or cripples.

Need proof of my theory?  For that we need to first go underground to the subway system.  There we will find everything we need to know about New York City’s future large deaf population.

Keep an eye out for these little gadgets, the iPod, or better yet, just close your eyes and listen. 

On a crowded subway car you’ll be able to hear about a dozen of these things blaring music (usually of bad taste) into the ears of people young and old. 

Most people in NYC have a door to door commute of 30 to 45 minutes each way.  Multiply that by two, exponentiate that number by volume full blast, and your answer equals permanent hearing loss. 

Now multiply that by millions of NYC commuters in the year 2007 and your answer is millions of deaf NYC residents in 2030. 

Still with me?  Good.

Now for the future cripples.  Next time you step outside begin taking a look at what people are wearing on their feet, and try not to develop a foot fetish while doing so.

You’ll fast come to realize that most people who outwardly have the appearance of being someone that would likely be alive in the year 2030 (someone under age 45 now) is currently wearing these little numbers on their feet…

Flip flops…

Now take a look at the average flip flop that people have on.  You will find that most of these flip flops give zero arch support, and are only barely clinging onto the foot by either a thong (pictured) or a small strap across the toe joints. 

You might say to yourself that the person who is wearing the flip flop is just going for a short walk, but that is rarely the case in NYC.  The average New Yorker doesn’t utilize a car and walks miles upon miles on any given day. 

Each and every step that the individual pounds into the pavement without any arch support is creating the groundwork for awful foot pains that will fast become crippling to the point that any step, including with the use of arch support soles will create unbearable pain to the point of making the individual give up on the idea of walking anywhere, thereby creating the only way of mobility for these people who mistreated their feet to be a wheelchair. 

The NYC 2030 plan is a good one in theory, but we here at beehivehairdresser feel that the politicians should take another look at it, and set the groundwork to make NYC transportaion safe and quick for the masses of future deaf and cripples that will need to be easily mobilized throughout the city in the year 2030 – which weren’t taken into consideration when they wrote up the transportation chapters of the plan.

In either case, we here at beehivehairdresser look forward to seeing the huddles of people sitting in wheelchair circles together, and talking via sign language about the good old days - the days that they themselves used to ruin their very own futures.

MILFs were a stockboys best friend.  They were just about the only little piece of joy that us stockboys could get during an average day of physical labor while being surrounded by the elderly and the ugly – say for the super special occasional stripper – let alone the MILF stripper, who is an entire post to herself.

Anyways, there was this one MILF that all of us dudes that worked in the store called Houston, based off of the fact that she had a striking resemblance to Houston the porn star.

 

The faux Houston never had a wedding band on, and her arrivals to our little discount drug store was each of our walking wet dreams.

She always dressed to sexy yet elegant, had her make up done to a tee, each strand of her hair looked as though it was meticulously placed in its own personal spot, and she never had anything but the most perfect tan.  That tan was always something that I personally always wondered about – particularly how little there might have been to the actual tan lines, if any.  Plus she always gave us a little eye contact and the slightest of smiles, sometimes an actual hello.  Wow!

So if one of the guys wasn’t up on the stores floor or hadn’t worked a day when faux Houston came in, everyone that worked would relay the fact that the other had missed out on seeing that fine piece of tail.  Yes, I called her tail.

Then one day she decided to wear some loose fitting gray sweatpants, didn’t have her hair all done up, and just looked a little “frumpy”.

I just sort of assumed that she was feeling a little under the weather or just didn’t have time to get ready before running her errands.  The next time I saw her she was all done up again, and was happy as a clam.

But then, tragedy struck, and she decided to have more and more “frumpy days” for herself instead of looking like a MILF to the 7th degree.

My guess is that she just sort of gave up on finding herself someone to enjoy her time with, and in doing so allowed me to see the walking slow death of her youthful MILFyness.

It was a darn shame.

Saturday night I was walking up Union Street from 4th Avenue to Grand Army Plaza, and I saw not one, not two, but five women sporting their own renditions of the Katie Cut.

FIVE!!! In only five blocks!!! 

I can’t fathom what the rest of Park Slope is succumbing to.

None of these renditions looked good, none!  Nothing was wrong physically at glance with any of these five women, except for their really flat out awful butchered haircuts. 

This is what I was trying to avoid with my week devoted to the dangers of the Katie Holmes’ short hairstyle – the Katie Cut.

I was able to catch one of these Katie Cut’s with my camera, take a look for yourself.

That ladies haircut right there was and still is one sorry sight for my sore eyes indeed.

Seeing these women walking around with their butchered heads of hair makes me hope that we can collectively as a whole nip this bad haircut sensation in the bud, by plastering flyer’s of the now infamous Katie Cut photo in the window of all hairdressers everywhere, with “We Will Not Give You This Hairstyle” above the photo.  Feel free to print out this post and drop it off in your local hairdressers window.

WE WILL NOT GIVE YOU THIS HAIRSTYLE!!!

Thank you all in advance for helping spread the word to stop this awful trend of a hairstyle.

This morning I saw the little brother of a kid that I grew up with.  I have long since forgotten the little brothers name, but he is still very recognizable to me, and outwardly appears to be one of the most laid back and relaxed human beings that I have ever seen.

Anyways, the little brother is probably around 24 years old now and he was walking hand in hand with his girlfriend.

Seeing them together made me realize that there are some truths to the old saying that men date women that remind them of their mothers and vice versa with women and their fathers.  This since the girlfriend is the spitting image of his mother.

I’m not talking about a younger version spitting image, I’m talking about a girl who is in her early 20s that looks like she is pushing 50.  Everything about her screams I’ve had four kids, am a soccer mom, I don’t have time to work out or pick out clothes that are flattering to my body – I’m a mom – she even sports the long perm circa 1983 – 1987 that soccer moms of Brooklyn had.

Seeing them only made me wonder how did he find that girl.  Out of all the women in the world where and how did he find one around his age that is outwardly pushing the end of middle age while sporting a long perm  circa 1983 – 1987, and the only logical reason I could come up with is that he is dating a cousin from his mothers side. 

As the saying goes incest is best, but in my mind incest is gross, and I’m sure that they would agree. 

So I’m figuring that they really are cousins and that they have found a way to skirt around the whole disgusting incestuous relationship thing, and have decided that they really aren’t committing incest since she is his cousin on his mothers side – if its in the same family but without the same last name -  it’s not incest. 

That’s there motto – I assume.