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!@#$%! · 05.27.2013, 08:20 AM

who the fuck remembers going to the record store over a decade ago and reading this shit and cringing like you just walked onto a dog turd?

Do you want to know what a hipster in Glasgow talks about?

The hipsters in Glasgow stay up until all hours discussing Biblical matters. that is how they greet the dawn in spring. But they still get up four hours later to see how their private world is affected by commerce and necessity.

The hipsters in Hillhead stya up to talk about Jesus, and how he felt about hipsters. All conjecture you must understand, because the straights that wrote the bible pretty much passed over it.

But Jesus thought about them because he thought about all things. If all he said and did was written, then there would be no volume large enough to contain all the detail.

So they ponder in dialect. And the dawn creeps up on them, reminding them to go to sleep for a few hours. Hopefully, the feeling they had on shutting their eyes is the feeling that will persist until nine. For it is then that their youthful ideals will be put to the test. When they come up against the commercial world and the awakening activity of everyday life.

The hipsters will stay up to talk about things that concern them. When they wake up, they will weave their path through people shopping, signing on, visiting hospitals and cutting back grass. Though really it is not fair to call them hipsters, because that is still a slur.

With fondness, I think about the hipsters beavering away in coolness. Because I’m looking upon a framed picture of where they live. It’s one of my favourite pictures, and the change of season doesn’t change the overall effect too much. The leaves are not on teh trees, but the colour of the sandstone is pretty enough. It seems grey and quiet in the picture, but I know for a fact there are a thousand Saturday meals being made and a thousand Saturday plans being hatched to drink and be senseless. Till the gentle tug of the working week brings sense to bear.

---

This shit couldn't have been ironic, but if it was it flew waaaaaay past me.

05.27.2013, 08:20 AM	#60
!@#$%! invito al cielo Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: mars attacks Posts: 42,731	who the fuck remembers going to the record store over a decade ago and reading this shit and cringing like you just walked onto a dog turd? Do you want to know what a hipster in Glasgow talks about? The hipsters in Glasgow stay up until all hours discussing Biblical matters. that is how they greet the dawn in spring. But they still get up four hours later to see how their private world is affected by commerce and necessity. The hipsters in Hillhead stya up to talk about Jesus, and how he felt about hipsters. All conjecture you must understand, because the straights that wrote the bible pretty much passed over it. But Jesus thought about them because he thought about all things. If all he said and did was written, then there would be no volume large enough to contain all the detail. So they ponder in dialect. And the dawn creeps up on them, reminding them to go to sleep for a few hours. Hopefully, the feeling they had on shutting their eyes is the feeling that will persist until nine. For it is then that their youthful ideals will be put to the test. When they come up against the commercial world and the awakening activity of everyday life. The hipsters will stay up to talk about things that concern them. When they wake up, they will weave their path through people shopping, signing on, visiting hospitals and cutting back grass. Though really it is not fair to call them hipsters, because that is still a slur. With fondness, I think about the hipsters beavering away in coolness. Because I’m looking upon a framed picture of where they live. It’s one of my favourite pictures, and the change of season doesn’t change the overall effect too much. The leaves are not on teh trees, but the colour of the sandstone is pretty enough. It seems grey and quiet in the picture, but I know for a fact there are a thousand Saturday meals being made and a thousand Saturday plans being hatched to drink and be senseless. Till the gentle tug of the working week brings sense to bear. --- This shit couldn't have been ironic, but if it was it flew waaaaaay past me.
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