I was walking down the streets of The Big City, Canada, when I came across the altest hot dog vendor in existence. Blaring from his stand was an Oberst track I have only heard once before (drinking with Fiest usually unlocks some secrets) and his cigarettes were clearly from the deep east. Approaching him, he noticed that I was an Altbro he could confide in. He began to tell me a story:
I haven't been touched in a deep emotional way such as this since I first touched base with acousticore. I was awestruck. I didn't buy anything and left, later finding that the ALTVendor killed himself shortly after our meeting.
Huzzah,
Brackett
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Kudos. Will read again.
ReplyDeletealtestbro the maker of termoil
Not even turmoil.
ReplyDeleteHow Existential
ReplyDeleteWriting my philosophy thesis on this, thanks
ReplyDelete