Wassup bitches? I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind lately– your job, your credit card debt, the pandemic of course. But I'm here to bring you comfort and a small soupçon of happiness, because I am a fuckin Strawberry Scooter Crunch.
But, oh, you have bigger problems than a prepackaged ice cream snack can provide? You have to meet with your parole officer who told you on the phone that he doesn't have good news for you? Some family members of yours have joined a doomsday cult and won't stop aggressively trying to recruit you? Your body odor is so out of control that you have to see a Belgian specialist? Well, I never promised that I could solve any major crises in your life. Only a temporary respite from what may be getting you down. I am only a Strawberry Scooter Crunch.
From the delicious crunchy outer layer (made up of... what is this- crumbled cookies?) to the sweet multilayered vanilla-and-strawberry ice cream center, I am the perfect distraction from the fact that the new house you bought was built over a cursed execution site or that your favorite baseball player has gotten the yips.
And long after you've finished me and chucked the popsicle stick, the memory of even having enjoyed me can comfort you as you wait in line at the DMV, get dumped by your therapist or gamble your kids' inheritance at the blackjack table. Salut!
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