So, um, just now, as I was doing the dishes, I heard an ice cream truck go by. Playing the bad calliope music and all. It brought back a ton of good memories...the ones of me begging my parents for quarters so I could go catch the ice cream man, and get the overpriced goodies that you couldn't get anywhere else. The thrill of eating your prize under a shady tree while the sun beat down on you....
Which suddenly snapped me back into reality and made me realize that it's currently 35 degrees with pea soup fog and rain, all damn day. This is January, not summer...so uh, what the hell, dude? I've always wondered about the ice cream men in this area, and now I'm sure of it. They are selling crack.
Depeche Mode - Policy Of Truth