Chopped Liver – Ice Ice Baby

A funny thing happened to me yesterday.

I went to the movies and bought a Mint Choc Chip Ice Cream.

I don’t hear you guffaw.

That’s because it wasn’t so much funny ha ha as funny strange – strange in that this is a rarity.

Y’see, as far as I am concerned – there is ice cream – and by that I mean Vanilla Ice Cream – and there are flavoured ice creams of varying degrees of sickness.

Ice Cream = Vanilla – natch.

That's the way - ah ha ah ha - I Like It

There are 2 types of ice cream shops/parlours. Good ones and not so good ones. There used to be a third type when I was growing up in Glasgow – and that was Bluebird Cafe (in Pollokshaws Road) type – and that was by far the best, but that’s gone now.

Let’s take the not so good ones first. Eating a multi-coloured pseudo-flavoured ice cream from a not so good shop will be vomit-inducing -no doubt. So safe bet is the vanilla – end of.

Now the good shop – you might think that their enticing array of colours, flavours and quality would be sufficient to make an alternative choice – but look, let’s suppose you choose, I dunno, a crunchie caramel vanilla chocolate swirl with millions and zillions on top – and it is FAB!!! Yummy Yummy in my tummy – MMMMmmmmmmm……

'nuff said

Well, just imagine -I mean just imagine two things 1) how orgasmic the vanilla would have been mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm yessiree – hit the spot – and disprove the theory of marginal utility NOW! and 2) how utterly disappointed you would be NOT KNOWING (it’s that not knowing again) how utterly gazumptious the vanilla would have been.

So, it’s Vanilla for me – Every Time.

‘cept last night – why was last night different from all other nights?

I dunno.

Did I enjoy it?

Yes, I did.

But…. I wonder what the vanilla would have been like.

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