Showing posts with label Hipster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hipster. Show all posts

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Weekly Prompt Story: Camera

http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/?p=28382

My Camera
By Christopher Munroe

I’ve bought a Polaroid camera.

And film, obviously. It would’ve been pointless without film.

I bought it just in case I meet a girl with brown hair and glasses, who loves The Smiths and wants to teach me to love life again the way a child does.

We’ll lay by the river, talking about our hopes and dreams while I snap Polaroids of the two of us, falling in love.

I don’t have a specific bespectacled brunette in mind, yet, I bought it just in case…


After all, if I ever DO meet her, I’d hate not to be ready…

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Hipsters


Hi! My name is Chris, I just moved into the place across the street, and I’ve been going around introducing myself to everyone in the neighborhood. In accordance with federal law, I am required to inform you that I’m a hipster.

I would have thought the moustache would be enough, or the sweater-vest. But no, apparently not.

Yeah, the law was passed fairly recently. Some big scare in Ottawa that hipsters live in Canada’s communities under the noses of “normal” people without them even knowing, and that something had to be done to keep Canadians informed of who might be living next door.

Personally, I think it’s bigotry pure and simple.

I mean, I may like obscure bands, and yes I have a hilarious tattoo of Russian one-hit wonders Tatu on my shoulder blade, but I’ve never hurt anybody. So what business is it of the government to judge how I live, that I should have to announce when I’m moving into a neighborhood?

Do you mind if I light a long, black cigarette, by the way? Thanks.

Seriously, I know it seems funny, but it could be the start of a slippery slope. They start with a group nobody takes seriously enough to care about, but where will it all lead?

And do you REALLY want to be the guy who starts a story with “First they came for the hipsters, but I was not a hipster so I remained silent?

No, I thought not.

Nah, I’m just joshin’ ya. There’s no law requiring any of this. I’m just doing it ironically. Still, I do live across the street, swing by some time for a microbrew!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Curse of the Were-Hipster

A month ago, I was on Whyte avenue.

He came from the shadows, brown corduroy jacket over Black Keys T-shirt, beard unkempt, fedora at an angle on his head. We collided, and it happened.

The fucker bit me!

I went home, cleaned the wound and went to sleep. I’d heard the legends, obviously, but never given them heed. They’re old wives tales, and I’ve no time for superstition.

But now a month’s past. The full moon hangs in the sky, and I’m fearful. What if the legends are true?

Because right now, I can’t stop listening to Hot Hot Heat…