I Pickled These Myself | A Story About Round Mirrored Sunglasses – goodr sunglasses

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I PICKLED THESE MYSELF ORIGIN STORY

A Poem About Teal Round Mirrored Sunglasses

MYSTERIOUS POEM ABOUT PICKLING HIPSTER DISCOVERED IN AUSTIN, TEXAS

The following poem was scrawled in Graffiti Park on Castle Hill in Austin, Texas, on March 9, 2020:

There Once Was A Hipster From Austin

There once was a hipster from Austin

Whose handlebar mustache gave many a tickle

He loved typewriters, flannel and ironic T-shirts

But what he loved most was to pickle

He pickled cucumbers, he pickled bell peppers

He pickled avocados and cherries

He pickled tomatoes, he pickled potatoes

And here’s where it starts getting scary

He pickled hamburgers, he pickled ice cream

He pickled all the food in his house

He picked his typewriter, he pickled his flannel

And he pickled his cat, Modest Meowse

He pickled vinyl records, a fixie bike

And goodr Circle Gs -- his possession most dear

And when he asked, “What the Beck is there left to pickle?”

He saw the answer in the mirror

The hipster from Austin got a big-ass barrel,

And filled it with water, vinegar and spices

Then he jumped in and sealed himself inside

I think he was having a quarter life crisis

As the years passed by, the hipster was preserved

Though the 2020’s, 30’s and 40’s

Through President Kanye and President Eilish

And a zombie apocalypse like in World War Z

Then in 2049, during nuclear winter

A gang of cannibals opened the barrel

They knew the hipster was a total snack, literally

Even if they were mystified by his apparel

When the briny hipster woke up, he said, “Namaste!

“My name is Clover, and I have no wealth

But I do have two legs and a butt you can eat

I pickled these myself.”

On the following day, March 10, 2020, the poem was covered by images of Star Wars characters in skinny jeans. Luckily, Austinite and yarn spinning enthusiast Ognima L. Flrac transcribed the poem for posterity the night before it disappeared.

Is “There Once Was A Hipster From Austin,” a frivolous work of whimsy, or a grim vision of a dystopian future that’s rapidly approaching? We don’t have the answers. But you should probably print the poem and pickle it, just to be safe.