Boulder Sucks

Most Denver natives grew up loathing Boulder, Colorado. It is not the town per se (the scenery surrounding Boulder is incredible) but the attitude and culture of Boulder that gives me the urge to throw an industrial sized vat of hand sanitizer at a filthy, guitar-playing hippy on the Pearl Street Mall. Boulder sucks for many reasons. Here are a few:

  • Boulder is a haven for wealthy, tree-hugging, gourmet coffee drinking, Subaru Outback driving assholes.
  • Boulder is the refuge for knee-jerk, bleeding heart liberalism. I worked in Boulder during the 9/11 aftermath and packs of unwashed lesbians would appear at lunchtime on the Pearl Street Mall conducting a silent anti-war, pro-peace protest (this was before a war had even been started). They protested for weeks on end, quiet as deaf mutes, smirks across their faces flashing a large sign that read “No More Blood.”
  • Boulder maintains the highest city tax and the most expensive housing market in Colorado.
  • Boulder has little to no affordable public parking. Unless you want to get wallet raped at a parking garage, you must brave the meters and residential streets where you are only allowed to park for three hours at a time. Beware of the Boulder meter maids, for they are swift and deadly. I once got a ticket for being a minute and half expired on my time. Yes, you read that correctly.
  • Boulder is overrun with arrogant bicyclists that assume they have the right of way. There are specified bike lanes painted all over town, yet most cyclists feel it is their right to ride where ever they please. One day I was driving and encountered two bicyclists in the middle of the road. They had backed up traffic a few blocks so I pulled up next to them, honked the horn and said, “You know there is a bike lane right there,” and pointed. “Yeah, we see it,” they replied, annoyed at my comment. I responded by yelling, “Then use it, you fucking cocksuckers!” Looking back, I should have dragged both of those assholes off their bikes and beaten them into oblivion. Here is another thing I do not get about the Boulder cycling scene: the full spandex bodysuit. I can see wearing it if are competing in the Tour De France and trying to shave seconds off your time, but while you are just getting some exercise on your lunch hour?
  • Driving in Boulder is awful. The traffic pace is so mellow that drivers are unaware of anyone or anything. It is commonplace for a trust-fund yuppie in an SUV listening to the Grateful Dead to cut across three lanes of traffic without using their blinker.
  • The downtrodden youth who beg for change on the Pearl Street Mall. I guarantee there is not a homeless kid sleeping on the streets of downtown Boulder. Take a walk down the mall during lunchtime and it is crawling with filthy young beggars asking for change to support their drug habits. Here is some advice: take a shower, shave off that beard that goes down to your balls, throw on a decent pair of shoes and get a job doing grunt work so you can collect a paycheck and buy your dope with pride like the rest of the functioning drug addicts.

Boulder does have a positive attribute:

  • Hot college chicks. The town is a smorgasbord of young women with firm bodies.

It would be a happy day for Colorado and for myself if Boulder burned to the ground. Except for the hot college chicks. We need to get them out alive.

Chief Niwot’s Curse

When white settlers drove Chief Niwot’s band of Arapaho to the plains (where they were eventually slaughtered at Sand Creek) he said, “People seeing the beauty of the Boulder Valley will want to stay and their staying will be the undoing of the beauty.” It was much more eloquent of saying, “I hate hippies.”