Close your eyes and open wide, my Cockbros and Cockettes—it’s time for a steaming stream of life-affirming love advice from your main man Cockblock, the feathered professor in the field of All Things Worth Knowing 101 at the University of Awwww Yeah. Now I don’t know about you, but I can’t saunter down the sidewalk without some sweaty wannabe stopping my strut with one of two frequently asked questions:
“Cockblock, o’ Cockblock, how do I get to be a tail-tappin’ love tycoon like you?”
To which I say “YEAH RIGHT!” …or:
“Cockblock, my Cockblock…does this fedora look good on me?”
Now, it’s a statistical fact proven by Science™ that one in five relationships suffers from Bad Fedora Syndrome. And by one in five relationships, I mean that one in five jive-ass neckbeards sacrifice their shot at ever getting a girlfriend by rocking a hat that only looks cool on A) hard-boiled private dicks, B) Carmen “Where She At?” Sandiego, or C) super-fly super-pimps lookin’ to get they private dicks a lil’ hard-boiled, nahmean?!! Ha ha, but seriously though, today I answer the question you should ask yourself every time you leave the house in that unsightly wide-brimmed eyesore:
Should I Wear This Fedora?
Now, let’s get down to bidness.
If You’re Going On A Date
As any barhopping ladies’ man can attest to, there’s a right way to peacock and a terribly wrong way. First, inspect your outfit: are you dressed to the nines, three-piece suit lookin’ all sharp like you just stepped out an episode of Mad Men and into a vat of Axe Body Spray? Then fedora it up, my main man – you earned it. You rockin’ them frayed denim cutoffs, silk Sam Goody button-up, oversized overcoat, and Nutella-smeared fingerless gloves, all “I literally eat so much Nutella that even when I’m wearing fingerless gloves the delightful chocolate/hazelnut spread makes it all the way up to my knuckles because I just go all in?” Here’s a better question: have you given up at life? Scratch that hat and start fresh, fool.
If You’re Going To The Mall
Ahhhh yes, the mall—a cultural melting pot of slackers, smoothies, and America. Next time you head down to your local shopping center to get yourself some mahfuckin Dippin’ Dots, you might want to leave your pin-striped clown cap on the hat rack. How you gonna impress those tubetop-wearin’ sixteen year olds if you look like some sappy ass mother that spends his time writin’ Naruto fan-fiction on that Internet box? And what’re you doin’ hittin on sixteen year old girls anyway, you pervert?!
If It Is Any Year Past 1965
Look, I hate to break it to you, but you probably shouldn’t wear that fedora anymore than you should throw on a pair of baggy-ass JNCOs and mosh out to “Three Dollar Bill, Y’all.” It’s like that Byrds song said:
For everything / turn, turn, turn
There is a season / turn, turn, turn
You never gonna get laid in that hat
*sniffle*
Poetic, ain’t it? Now take that goofy-ass hat off and get out there, lovebirds. Until next time!
