Ice Cream Sandwiches

Here in my neighborhood I have found in bodega freezers no farther than 50 paces from my door little ice cream sandwiches. I havent tried to get all metric and measure just yet, but I'd say they are about 70% the size of regular PET. So, they sell them there for a quarter. Holy catfish that is devine. yeah I know Nana, they were 2 for a haypenny in your day at grandmother Jackson's store, but Gepetto was a child molester too, so lets factor in the value of oil over the gold standard you Britton-Woods goon. This is a good deal, and if you are ever in the neighborhood I will be happy to find 5 dimes and we shall have a nice treat, even in a drafty apartment in wintertime.

shew, anyways I do love this, I spent 3 dollars in the last week on these sandwiches. also I like the 23.5oz Green teas at the same spot.

Dear readers I need shorter suggestions on what to call these tatsy treats?
any thing you got send them in...

ICSs
frozen oreo
best food ever ...........mad wack ,kjhfshgasjkhgdf i need something better


2/3/05
Nothing special. Vanilla ice cream and chocalate cake bread. Wrapped in paper this little delicacy is exactly what the doctor orders from Memorial Day to Labor Day.
What makes an ice cream sandwich so good? Ok, the to compounds (vanilla ice cream and chocalate cake bread) are natural complements. They are classics in the annals of deserts tastes. I mean one can buy that up-scale Briar's Vienetta stuff but really is it not just a bunch of ICSs ground up and shaped in a fashionable way then boxed at $5? Even the classic Oreo Cookie Blizzard from Dairy Queen is a derivative of this classic combonation.
But what makes the ice cream sandwich good and perhaps even a staple of human decency is that it is pure. Racial Harmony. The proper union of soft and firm. It is without question Western Civilizations answer to the Yin-Yang. Industrialized goodness. Manufactured nicity. All the things that make "us" better than "them".

And how great is it when you are eating one and that cookie get stuck on the tip of your finger, and as you take the last bite, your tips are covered in the little cookie part that conjealed to the fingers you had been holding the sandwich with.

This only applies to the Ice Cream sandwich as well. The non-frozen cousin of the ICS is [Little Debbie's] Oatmeal Cream Pies. No such conjealing takes place between the fingers. But, the write would be less that honest not to acknowledge that kinship between the OCP and ICS. Other than the temperature and shape the two products of the preservative American culture are quite similar. America's rabid consumerism has always accomodated the copy-cat nature of most affluent productions. This remains true despite the "oattieness" of the OCP and the "chocolacity" of the ICS.

how to eat the last chips out of the bag

Cheetos
Fritos
Doritos
and coming this summer
brought to you by the newest justice of the US Supreme court Justice samuel
ALITOS

but really they can only be good if one can drink the last crumbs from the most remote corners of the bag. This is a better sensation than "slurping down" the last jagged crumbs from the Pringles can. That is too much likie drinking, and the chance of the ships rushing too quickly to take in an orderly and non-messy way is too greatly reduced.

Now the greasier the bag (like say regualr Lays potato chips any flavor) (sour cream and onion) the greater the tempation will be to cut or tear the bag to a much smaller length once a majority of the chips have been ingested. I am here to plead with you to fight that urge.

The best thing I have seen since...

... I started taking new York city transit regularly was the following:

Though it was only a month or so ago, the line in my memory that distinguishes January from February was blurred by the coldness, so I cannot be more specific as to the date. But, it was cold and oppressive conditions and I had been working outside all day, on my feet.

On the E train I continued to stand due to the train's capacity. As usual I walked quickly to the G across the 23rd/Ely/Court Sq. station in Queens. I snuck in just as the bell was sounding for the train to leave the station to an orange seat (in fact an entire empty 5-seat [2 x 3 'L' shape] section).

The section adjacent to me was full of people. There was a family of five: two adults and three children under the age of 7. On the 2-seat bench (closest to me [or base of the 'L']) was the mother and two of the children. Both boys, one was on her lap and the other nestled between her and the wall/window of the car. The three seat section held the father and a young girl. There was little space left since all five were wearing big poofy black jackets.

This was particularly true of the man and the girl; their two bodies (with jacketed poofiness) erased almost all the orange from sight. Even sitting down it was clear that neither the man or woman were over 5'4". This was a short and squaty crew to be certain.

I didn't really notice them until the first stop and the mother was wrapping up her successful attempt to quiet her boys. She seemed tired and slightly on edge, and I noticed the father noticing that as well, but his fatigue seemed to be mixed with a sense of satisfaction.

As he sat there beginning to find pride in his wife, just before she looked up to acknowledge him, the girl tugged harder, than her first two tries, on his puffed jacket such that he could feel it, and gain his attention. She got it, and he lowered his head and shoulders to hear what she had to say.

It was something I wouldn't repeat to you here even if I could have understood what she said. The next thing I knew she was burying her head in the cushion of his outer layer and closing her eyes with peace that passes understanding. He was obviously satisfied, and gently closed his eyes as well.

By this point I think my glare into this picture had become obvious to these engaged parents. The father opened his eyes and saw me staring. All I could give was a dopey, lip-grin, and eye-brows that said, "sorry for staring, but you guys are so dag gone cute I cannot stop looking on with some sense of envy, kudos..."

All-day long I had been trying to attract positive attention to myself, and now I was out of place and violating the most pulchritudinous thing I had witnessed in months.

The train stopped. The doors opened and I disappeared back into the cold night a few minutes later through a hall that echoed some way above average subway music, especially for the G line. Simple and soulful.