On Becoming Pretentious

Recently, I've decided I'm not enough of a pretentious git. Most of my workmates here have esoteric tastes, read Nietzche or Umberto Eco and listen to jazz. Frankly, I'm just too damn mainstream. With that in mind, I've decided to grow a goatee. Not only will it make me look more pretentious, but it'll piss Dad off. Honestly, rebelling against my parents is like Barnum and Bailey's kids running away to the big city to become lawyers. The only things I can do are become religious or vote Labour. I guess next in line is arthouse films, and, god forbid, a pony tail. Daniel Brader, if you're reading this, I need you to guide me in becoming pretentious. I want to learn from the best.

For any of you who don't know my parents, my mum regularly goes to parties with a massive pair of strap-on breasts, with my dad in tow as an aging punk-rocker. Hair-dye and nose rings included. See what I mean about it being difficult to rebel? I guess being boringly normal is just about the only way to do it.