This law states simply that all ice cream names could also describe bad dumps. The latest ad poster from Carvel next to D’s proves this law once again. Carvel can’t seem to get a product name that doesn’t make me clutch my stomach. Fudgy the Whale? Fruit Fizzlers? Sundae Dashers? Hlrhgalgbag
To make you feel better about life, here’s a picture of my cat being cute.
Miscellaneous Hip-Hop Guy from 1992 showed up last night. Black guy in his twenties somewhere in red sports jersey, baggy pants, really big athletic shoes, red bandanna with sideways red athletic cap, swagger, radio Walkman permanently attached to head. He looked like he’d just answered a casting call for a movie about the life of Tupac Shakur.
He made a beeline for the ice cream store, which had just closed, and banged on the glass door, hard. He alternated doing that with doing the tough guy gangsta swagger walk in circles for a few minutes. I tried to differentiate between “kinda eccentric guy in the wrong neighborhood” and “total loon”.
Finally the ice cream store guy came to the door. This was D.P., who is a classic Newport Beach preppy wimp: polo with popped collar, curled short hair, weak chin, very clean athletic shoes. People who went to high school with him describe him as a Drama Dork.
D.P. popped open the door and greeted LL Fool J, and they proceeded to carry out a complex Hip-Hop Guy handshake with lots of knuckle bumping and finger gestures. They then departed into the back of the ice cream store.
Sideways Hat Lady is going to eat it one of these days. Oddly, her son never seems to step up and tell Mom that maybe she should let someone else get up on the top of the step ladder and screw/drill things.
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