It's a scam.
You're not likely to believe me, because you're saying to yourself, 'I just had some yesterday. I know ice cream is real.' And you're right. Ice cream is real, and that's not why it's a scam. I know, if you've read the book or heard me talk about The Dog, you're used to my saying that things you thought were real aren't actually real, but that's not what I'm saying here. So when I said it's a scam, it's not because it isn't real, though you might naturally have thought that, but I'm telling you that's not what I was saying.
The Dog says I need to move on.
So you had some ice cream. You put it in your mouth, you felt the minty-fruity-toffee...ee goodness melt around in your mouth, slip past your tongue and slide down your throat, cold and satisfying. You felt all that, BUT! Once it hits your stomach, that's where the magic kicks in, and it's not your friendly-flowers-and-stylish-yet-comfortable-chairs kind of magic.
Let me explain about Kzargotskistan. People don't generally know about Kzargotskistan because they imploded under their own magical and physical weight due to excesses in both areas, and now occupy a very small space--about 3 cm x 7 cm--on the border between Ukraine and Russia. Their only hope of ever reopening their borders is to shed both magical and physical energy. The magical you generally don't have to worry about, since it flies off in a direction you can't travel and makes life confusing for a dimension you'll never visit.
The physical energy, however, they pass off in the form of calories. You see where I'm headed with this. Yes, the catalyst for this shedding of calories is ice cream. It started through a treaty over forty years ago with Poland, who sent two agents to New York to found the Häagen-Dazs brand. From there, they made highly profitable arrangements with Dreyers, Breyers, Benjamin and Gerald's, and McDonald's. When that ice cream hits your stomach--VORP! A portal is opened to Kzargotskistan, and calories are pumped directly into your innards. Doesn't matter if you do the whole 'non-dairy frozen dessert' thing, either. They still get you.
So this is why I tell you it's a scam. And yes, I still eat ice cream. A young man has to choose what battles to fight, and Kzargotskistan beat me the moment my sister gave me Häagen-Dazs chocolate.
I surrender, Kzargotskistan. You win.
--Pete
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The question you want to ask yourself, Pete, is what ulterior motive did Morgan have when she gave you Häagen-Dazs chocolate? Because you were had, my friend, you were had. And don't even tell me it was Jo that gave it to you, because she would never do such a thing. Unless she was had first.
ReplyDeleteYou always hurt the ones you love.
ReplyDelete--Pete
Really, Pete? Do I REALLY need the visual of tiny Russian-hybrid-Kzargotskistanians running a muck in my duodenum? I can only assume the portal being opened by the calories, occurs IN MY INNARDS. And what exactly do they DO with all that acidic freedom? I'll tell you what they do, my friend. Vodka shots and folk dancing. Mint Chocolate Chip is dead to me.
ReplyDeleteThis is me and not Pete. And I have to say that "Kzargotskistanians" is my new favorite word.
ReplyDelete--Andrew