The BSD's Unnecessary Commentary: On Hippie Chicks, or How Unclean Girls Won My Heart

There is something really hot about hippie chicks. I'm loving the headbands, straps, and other things they wear in their hair, the light, airy clothing that softly kisses their skinny-fat curves, gently massaging their lightly unwashed skin, their bodies contorting at Coachella, squirming, high on MDMA as Gang Gang Dance spins a set, Deadmau5 and the Dim Mak crew in the wings, rain drizzling into their hair, giving it the oily, greased appearance that only a hippie chick can carry off. Maybe put some Native American paint on their faces. Some feathers or raccoon furs.

This shit here is perfect because of the canteen. She's been out there a long time and that canteen is keeping her alive. The BSD has a canteen, but it's filled with GHB and gin.

Headband? Check. Native American iconography? Check. Strange necklace? Check. Blonde, unwashed hair? Check. Pregnant? Give the BSD 45 minutes and a slight buzz.

Freedom is an essential element for hippie girls. Freedom can be exercised in many different ways, including stretching, wearing bikinis beneath little jackets, wearing see-through leggings, standing in the sun, doing copious amounts of mind-altering substances, and BSDriding in the sand.

Listen to your Bob Dylan and give me that look one more time, babe. I won't think twice and it will be alright. Trust.

This is straight gypsy shit.

Hippie chicks love being nude, and the BSD loves them being nude, especially when they stand by the window.

Absolutely, darling, I'll take you for dinner and a movie. By dinner, I mean we be doin' it, and by movie, I mean we be taping it.

Non-hippie chicks (Yuppies, steady job-having types, clean girls, Ann Coulter, etc.) would never mud wrestle their friends. That's straight hippie shit.

Smoking grass- giant part of the hippie girl lifestyle, and BSD approved.

Look at this angel.

Hey there. You looked shocked that I walked in totally pantless. That's just how I do. I thought you'd like that. Why would you do that, darling? I hardly think this is the police's business. Plus, I got a baton right here. Yeah, sometimes I call it a nightstick. Where? The bathroom. Of course I've done it in the bathroom. The front stoop? Yeah. The backyard, you hippie freak? I'm hip.

Yes.