Thursday, August 23, 2012


Have you ever had an experience so profound, it completely changes the way you see the world, rearranging all your long-standing morals and values?  Something like that has happened to me.

It started last night, when Annie mentioned that we have "nothing good" for dessert in the house.  Screw watermelon (fruit, bleh!) or dark chocolate, or gay-ass peppermints, she needs something GOOD.  So today at the grocery store I grabbed some random kid-friendly-looking ice cream for her. 

Party cake, you say?  Looks festive.  I like cake.  Never heard of Turkey Hill, but what the hell, right?  I decided to take a test bite when we got it home, just to be sure it wouldn't poison my child.  So with a giant serving spoon I partook right out of the gallon container. 
BOOM.  Ice cream-gasm, right on the spot.  Socks: knocked the fuck off.  I didn't even know how to handle it.  I lost my damn mind.  I'm talking laid out on the floor with the ice cream container on my face, making animal noises into an oozing mound of frozen dairy deliciousness.  Don't you judge me: this is velvety-soft vanilla ice cream with BUTTERCREAM FROSTING all swirled up in it, amid pieces of candy-colored CAKE, for Chrissake.  It's a birthday party in your FACE.  This shit is so good, it will make you SICK.  If this ice cream were a dude, I would have extramarital, unprotected sex with it. I would let this ice cream do things to me that my husband has only seen on the internet.  I would make horrible life decisions with this ice cream that would destroy my family and haunt me for the rest of my life, in the form of illegitimate party cake ice cream babies.  I'd give up my kids for this ice cream.  I'd live on the streets.  I'd sell my body just to earn enough scratch for an eight ball of this ice cream, which I would mainline in five minutes and then prostitute myself again for.  I'd get AIDS and not seek treatment, for fear that the AIDS medicine would interfere with my enjoyment of this ice cream.  I would die in some greasy back alley, shriveled and alone, with a brain freeze, for this ice cream.  It's that good. 

It really is.

So I hid it from Annie.  That bitch can eat peppermints.

1 comment:

  1. I have got to get some of this ice cream!!!!!