by Derry

We, the kids, also went to hipster somehow. My friend burned up to get hipster. And they, we know, are rarely found in Siberia, because of the poor feed base, the presence of natural enemies in the person of the endemic Siberian hopper, a short period of persecution, which is possible in the hipster in our area only during the "Week of Polish Cinema". But we decided to try. They took a topman bag, a little berbery and a bunch of fake rabbits. We wandered, walked near the "Artist", but everything was wasted, only once the orange rainbow "Simachev" blinked in the road bushes.

They decided to go home empty-handed, turned into the street and, miraculously, literally hit the prey. It was a three-year-old hipster, he was preparing to put on the onion and didn’t see us. But here is the misfortune, I threw out a bag of cloth, all, until the last vintage socks with deer. My friend fell away, but I showed a cleverness — borrowed from the old lady passing by her very authentic gabardine bag and turned on Dsh! Dsh! on the phone. Everything happened quickly - the hipster as enchanted went to us, apparently intending to put a photo of the sum in the blog, and a friend quickly pressed him with a shirt Stone Island.