All Things Profane and Sacred

The goddamned ice-cream truck is driving through again. Poor bastard. How can you spend your day listening to the entertainer played endlessly in lollypop tones through tinny speakers? I have a friend who was an ice-cream truck driver for about a day. He confirms that it is an especially shitty way to earn your keep. Kids crying. Kids stealing. Kids throwing rocks. And the endless empty joviality of the burned out clown blaring an assortment of muzak at high volume.