At the Creative Bunker in NYC, we occasionally receive a bit of spam-enhanced snail mail that tickles our funny shins to a higher degree than Josh’s (frequently made-up on the spot) silly tales.

I'm not necessarily a long-term fan of the “Hippy” (though I would have likely been one back in the 60’s primarily because of my profound love of Patchouli and hopping about), but in this latest piece of poorly designed rubbish that came across my desk, the “Hippy” in question is not really a participant in the subgroup of the counterculture that began in the United States during the early 1960’s at all – but likely the owner of this delivery service wearing a Rastafari Crown with fake dreadlocks flashing a half-assed peace sign.

As a result, we will never use this delivery service, not based entirely on the fact that we appreciate good design as opposed to this nonsense, but because we don’t like seeing the “Hippy” getting any more attention for being a dumb-ass than the Gieco Cavemen or Potsie from Happy Days.

Just because you have a beard and a dream, and your Uncle Cleatus claims he can write some “bad-ass” copy doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it... Hippy Delivery Man.