I scream for Ice Cream

GW and I are eating ice-cream in Queen St Gardens.

"You can stick your fancy ice cream, with it's cream, egg yolks,
and Madagascan vanilla pods, right up your arse." I shout,
"Give me water, powder out of an unbranded box,
paint scrapings and pigeon droppings, anytime.
MR WHIPPY IS KING!"

GW looks a little aghast at my outburst, especially as she once
shagged one of the Luca family.

I think the sun got to me a bit today.