Icecream, you scream...

So I'm sitting here on Friday afternoon trying to figure out if there's a way to make "pita bread, hummus, a chunk of chocolate, doritos and a can of diet coke" into a balanced meal. My initial thought is: probably not, but then again, who cares?!

We've had a pleasant reprieve from that four-letter-word known as "rain," and some of the humidity has left the area, resulting in very pleasant weather, the kind that makes me wish I wasn't a lazy ass and enjoyed things like camping, hiking, and walking from my front door to my car. For a staunch urbanite like myself, "outdoor recreation" means rolling the window down in the car--which I hate, because of the sound of wind rushing--or opening the apartment windows to let the breeze in. But not for long, because it's noisy outside, and too much fresh air consumption is bound to cause the other kind of consumption.

Why, you ask, didn't I join a comtemplative religious order and sit in a locked, windowless room for hours staring at a wall, or something? Ah, but you forget, my dear grasshoppers, I did that. And lo, it was called grad school. And lo, I'm not doing that again, either.

Oh dear. The Scary IceCream Truck is making its daily summer rounds. Not only does it have the World's Most Annoying Canned Music--a tune which sounds like a "It's a Small World" rip off--but it also has this creepy voice at the end of the jingle that says "Hello" in this vaguely pedophilic, robotic way. I'm sorry, but what conscientious parent in their right mind lets their children buy confections from a strange adult who has been exposed to hours of freaky looped carnival music whilst driving around neighborhoods at 5 mph in a big white lumbering van painted with pictures of dancing ice cream cones?! I suppose ice cream trucks aren't exactly the speediest of getaway vehicles, but still.

I mean, dude! Isn't the creepy weird music alone enough to tip you off to the Potentially Horrific Consequences, people?! It's like the audio-equivalent of the make-out scene in horror movies. You just know that all that on-screen adolescent lust is going to lead to Something Bad Happening. Well, likewise, I'm convinced people--and their offspring--should stay away from icecream trucks. Like clowns, there's just something vaguely unsavory about them.