I'm Comin' Up So You Better Get This Ice Cream Party Started!

When I first spotted this pamphlet in a thrift store bin of children's books I tossed it into my metaphorical shopping basket without even looking past that cover. Just a quick glance at the little Cindy Brady-looking girl standing on a hilltop at dawn told me all that I needed to know about what was inside... this booklet was either going to be about Jesus or the coming of this little girl's 'monthly friend' and both of those subject matters are ripe with blog-mocking potential. There are no two things in this whole wide world that are funnier than religion or menstruation.

When I got home and took another look I discovered that this was actually an educational tome from the '50's explaining the intricacies of ice cream mass-production to the public school students of Palos Verdes. Or maybe it's all about a burgeoning young lesbian's journey to self. It reads both ways...

I think we all know what 'pink' really is and I think we all know why Betty would prefer it over Uncle Bob's complicated 'machinery.'

When Mr. Dick says "ice cream" he really means "penises"

When Uncle Bob talks about the "ice cream plant" he really means "border town whorehouse."

It helps to understand the story better once you know this.

"See the rollers go round and round in what you so laughingly refer to as a 'track,' you ignorant little slut!"

Alice knows that it doesn't help to rush things when you're trying to make ice cream. It only puts a lot of unnecessary pressure on the 'tanks.'

Sweeny Todd: The Satanic Soda Jerk Of Fleet Street





A machine that gets the job done better than girls or a hole in the wall that little Betty may peek through? Oh, which of these two things do I make fun of first!?! Actually, I think I'll just make fun of the fact that it looks like Betty's been asked to identify a body at the morgue... they don't usually make you slide the drawer out yourself, do they?

Between this guy's rosy cheeks and the hardening of the "ice cream" my brain is turning every line of this innocent little story into pure filth. To which dark corner of Hell do they send people like me?





So Uncle Bob's an enforcer?