Okay, no longer depressed. In fact im quite happy. I went bike riding for about 4 hours today. I have a great story to tell too.
So... I was riding around plano like a bat out of hell. Pumping furiously. When, off in the distance, I hear the CLOWN SONG. Yes, the CLOWN SONG. The song that brings back memories of youth since past. Of summers riding around the block with your friends, jumping up onto curbs, riding backwards, barreling down the BIGGEST HILL at 40mph, WITHOUT HOLDING THE HANDLE BARS. If you know what I mean, you know my reaction.
ICE CREAM MAN!
I could tell he was to the north. I was just south of Bob Woodruff park, he was just beyond. HARK! Off the path I rode, zooming down the grass, narrowly missing a small lake. Zoom, onto the other path. Up a hill. Around a tree or two. I had made it to the parking lot, and I could still hear his tune. He was on the other side of the block. Fearing that I would lose him I nearly did a wheely to jump a curb, into somebody's yard. Between the houses I rode, I could still hear his song.
THERE! Off in the distance I saw him. His white van glistening in the sunlight. The children gathered around. I picked up the pace and went after him. But oh no! He pulled away! And down the street he went! Not to be left behind I attempted to catch up with him, screaming all the way. STOP. GIVE ME MY CHERRY COATED CREAMSICLE!
HE STOPPED!
I had chased down the Ice Cream man.
So, I pulled up, and he rolled down his window. "Banana Fudgesicle", I said. "Okay mon. I be right back, mon." Haha, he was totally Jamacian. He had long dread locks, and I SWEAR TO GOD I smelled pot coming from inside.
So, that was my experience. I chased down the Ice Cream man. You simply cannot beat that.
Anyway, I ate the fudgesicle, it totally melted all the way down my hands... but that's okay, I wiped them on my shorts. Oh, to be a kid again.
So... I was riding around plano like a bat out of hell. Pumping furiously. When, off in the distance, I hear the CLOWN SONG. Yes, the CLOWN SONG. The song that brings back memories of youth since past. Of summers riding around the block with your friends, jumping up onto curbs, riding backwards, barreling down the BIGGEST HILL at 40mph, WITHOUT HOLDING THE HANDLE BARS. If you know what I mean, you know my reaction.
ICE CREAM MAN!
I could tell he was to the north. I was just south of Bob Woodruff park, he was just beyond. HARK! Off the path I rode, zooming down the grass, narrowly missing a small lake. Zoom, onto the other path. Up a hill. Around a tree or two. I had made it to the parking lot, and I could still hear his tune. He was on the other side of the block. Fearing that I would lose him I nearly did a wheely to jump a curb, into somebody's yard. Between the houses I rode, I could still hear his song.
THERE! Off in the distance I saw him. His white van glistening in the sunlight. The children gathered around. I picked up the pace and went after him. But oh no! He pulled away! And down the street he went! Not to be left behind I attempted to catch up with him, screaming all the way. STOP. GIVE ME MY CHERRY COATED CREAMSICLE!
HE STOPPED!
I had chased down the Ice Cream man.
So, I pulled up, and he rolled down his window. "Banana Fudgesicle", I said. "Okay mon. I be right back, mon." Haha, he was totally Jamacian. He had long dread locks, and I SWEAR TO GOD I smelled pot coming from inside.
So, that was my experience. I chased down the Ice Cream man. You simply cannot beat that.
Anyway, I ate the fudgesicle, it totally melted all the way down my hands... but that's okay, I wiped them on my shorts. Oh, to be a kid again.
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and I have
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