“I’m just saying,” says hipster A in his pale skinny jeans to his friend, “this off-shore drilling has got to stop! They have better fuel-alternatives, you know. I read a report on The Huffington Post that the Chinese government is rounding up fat kids loaded with high-fructose corn syrup and converting them into fuel. Good! Address the overpopulation issue and make use of fat people in one sweep—” he pauses while an announcement plays in the subway car.
“Yo, yo, yo, next stop is Bedford Avenue. Stan’ clear da’ closin’ doors. Peace.”
Hipster B sighs and fingers his black-rimmed glasses to illustrate his state of deep thought, the pose he always wears while nodding along to Pitchfork-approved hip-hop. He has to fight back his ironic impulse to respond with “word,” aware that at this point it was no longer ironic as his default impulse. Instead, he nods sagely, his mouth slightly agape. The train comes to a halt.
“Yo, yo, yo, ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, we are delayed cuza train traffic ahead. Please be patient and allow me to present the greatest thing since sliced bread… C-Spawn! AKA ME, uhuh, yeah.”
Hipster A makes certain that the cuffs of his pants are rolled up properly to show his pasty white ankles fully, continuing, “This is why I’m getting my MFA in Creative Writing. When I write the next great American novel, the world will finally take notice of the big issues—” he pauses again for more announcements.
“Yeah yeah it’s ya boy C-Spawn, comin’ at ya like a new dawn, wake up and see da truth son, take a stand an’ wave yo gun, cuz you trapped on da L train, you doin’ all dis for no gain, while da rich get richa, and da poor get sicka, ya gotta free ya mind, and don’t take no prisnahs.”
Hipster C takes off his bright neon orange retro headphones and asks, “What’d the announcer say?”
Hipster A replies with a smirk/shrug combo, “I can never understand the announcements.” Meanwhile, Hipster B is lost in thought, contemplating if “Empire State of Mind” is an ironic ringtone for a New Yorker to have. He then contemplates if this topic would be an ironic blog update from him.
“If there are any record producers hearin’ dis, once again my name is C-Spawn and I’ve got important things to say that’ll change the world. Peace.“
[Read more humorous nonsense at Matt and the Bear.]