McFlurry Matador


Mmmmmm… Vanilla ice cream. Well, it might not really be ice cream in this particular case. Nothing compares to Blue Bell; But, I’m not going to split hairs. Add broken candy mixed into it and I’m a glutton for any abuse. Who doesn’t love candy? Somebody evil. So, naturally, It was an offer I couldn’t refuse! And the way I see it, I love to have fun and enjoy life. So why not do it with a McFlurry?! 

It’s the little things in life we need to appreciate, right? Too many people are wrapped up in their “Oh so vital” lives to sit back and scoop up a little dose of happiness with friends and family. And ice cream. Or their too busy getting pussy for the first time to have any kind of working brain tissue. And ice cream. And frankly, what’s wrong with a little reversion to being a little kid, with ice cream, enjoying scoops of joy! So, after many selfies and photo shoots with my niece with our creamy icicles… I digress to behaving like an annoying twelve year old girl, running around the house all hopped up on an overdose of sugar-filled glucose. I’m pretty sure I was walking on the ceiling. Or stomping angry mushrooms. Like, Super Mario. Boing. Boing. Boing. Jumping up to hit bricks with my big head. It was a coffee high I’ve never had before. Because it wasn’t coffee. It was ice cream. It was kid crack. I was the Matador McFlurry master. The squirrels fell for it every time. There was no stopping my childish antics. There wasn’t. It involved handstands. You couldn’t have stopped me either. What do you know about toilet paper and hoses? I dare you. Cooking oil on a windshield. Don’t cry, it comes off. As I said, I was unstoppable. Why was I using the balcony as a balance beam? Give me McFlurry or give me death! Somebody stop me. Yeah right. I’ve already dug out the spare from the freezer… 

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