Ahh, the days of the Ice Cream Man. You’d pray for him to come down your street, count your nickels 10 times over to make sure you had a whole dollar and wait for what seemed like fo. ev. a. Once in a while I’ll hear the bells of the ice cream man, and be taken back to a time where our parents warned us about strangers and pedophiles but we didn’t give a shit because “that big van has ice cream, suckaz!!” Those were the days!
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