Chocolate, I Scream!

You know what’s totally awesome? Chocolate ice cream. It sounds obvious, but I guess I’d forgotten. The ice cream game is so overwrought with options it’s easy to let a classic jam like chocolate go unheard. Chocolate ice cream, that’s all you really need. It doesn’t require Butterfinger bars or fudge balls or diamonds or dreams to make it better. Just a plain ol’ scoop of chocolate ice cream. Crammed inside my asshole. For a goat to eat.

Ice cream is a perfect example of a great thing we grew so bored of that someone had to “improve” it. It used to be you could get a scoop of chocolate or a scoop of vanilla, that was it. And the choice said everything about you as a person: Vanilla meant you were boring; Chocolate meant you were cool; A scoop of both meant you were bi-polar. Recently I went to a party where there were two ice cream choices: Mint Chocolate Oreo Chunk or Raspberry Praline. Again, the choice said a lot about you: Mint Chocolate Oreo Chunk meant you were fat; Raspberry Praline meant you were gay; A scoop of both meant you were Bruce Vilanch.

I can only imagine what the future has in store for ice cream. I figure there’s a chubby ginger kid somewhere right now, crying because he has to stop playing video games to eat his ice cream. (I don’t know why he has to be a redhead, he just does.) That child doesn’t know it yet but he’s the future creative force behind the slogan, “Breyers: Now with a video game in every bite!” And I’ll sit there, old and curmudgeonly, shaking my fist at the hologram television shouting, “In my day ice cream didn’t need all these extras; just candy and cocaine, that was all. And you could be as gay and fat as Bruce Vilanch!” Then the little ones will ask who Bruce Vilanch is and I’ll die of shame like all elderly people do when we call it “natural causes.” There are geezers dying right now murmuring the last words, “Too…fat…and gay,” as a Rosie O’Donnell commercial airs. It’s reality, folks. Prepare yourselves for it: The Rosie O’Donnell of the future will be your undoing.

Once I have ten minutes of ice cream, Bruce Vilanch, and Rosie O’Donnell material I’m taking it to the stage. I think I’m serious. But it might just be all this candy, cocaine ice cream talking.

My name is Ben and I blogged this.