Ice Cream for You

 Lot’s has happened but not much has changed. you could subscribe to some 3d printing magazine to boost your street cred, but…

” I won’t go for that, Oh no”

Yesterday, and the days surrounding it performed an interesting piece. Mrs T and I were digging the ground, her, possibly more than me, because I had made up some excuse as I tend to in a normal situation. Anyway the children were inside, the adults (us) were outside, no one was in or around the drive which we were at that time sweeping the mud (mostly clay from) And the sun was shining slightly, rather than brightly and down our wend of the close, street, appeared a Ice Cream man. A man made entirely from ice cream which had turned into flesh and allowed him to continue in his way as a spy against the enemy, but with the ability to change his opinion when ever he wants. In a way to placate the mortals who would buy the ice lollies or pops, the Ice Cream man makes jokes, aimed at Mrs T, which I and her thought were probably inappropriate after the event, and in which case, its all fucked, whatever it may be.

The story goes:

Ice cream man looking at Mr and Mrs T digging a border, whilst Mr T approaches Ice Cream Van:

“I can see who’s doing most of the work there, luv”

Both parties (Mr and Mrs T look up at Ice Cream Man, having been around for over 50 years; 100 + years between us)

Mrs T leans on the spade, Mr T swipes his phone.

“Its just you could be digging your own grave there love”

Said the Ice cream man.

In punishment we each bought a 99 with a flake, and I also got a blue flavour slush (raspberry???!!!) The man took the money and went away. It was at that point I had to look up what the word praxis actually meant.

True story

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