My Journal
Our ice cream man looks like Vladimir Putin.
Oh, make no mistake, the cheerful gent who drives his tinkling dairy treat wagon thru our neighborhood every summer day is a fine fellow. He’s friendly, extremely courteous, and his truck is always well stocked with Bomb Pops, ice cream sandwiches and chilly confections molded in the shape of the most popular cartoon characters. But there’s no denying the chap is the spit and image of the famous Russian leader. Perhaps he’s some long-lost twin relative. Or maybe he actually IS Putin running a bizarre sideline business here in Burbank, CA. Unlikely we know, but stranger things have happened. Just as strange, in addition to frozen dainties, the fellow also sells old-fashioned non-PC playthings the likes of which haven’t seen the inside of a Toys R Us in decades. Perhaps they are still produced in Russia, which would explain how “Vlad” always has a full stock of them. I’m talking bow and arrow sets, cap guns and bombs, metal darts, and probably a few more destructive things hidden among the Fudgsicles. This delights Rashy no end, who is easily his best customer.
In other summer-related news, we seem to have completely lost track of our intern, Melodie D’Amour. Sometime after the Fourth of July Melodie grabbed a beach ball (and Super Rica’s piggy bank), announced she’d be “working at home” and we haven’t seen her since. As there have been unconfirmed reports of her running wild in Cabo San Lucas, we’ve come to understand that “working at home” is Melodie-speak for “On my boyfriend’s yacht”. We are currently interviewing for a new intern.
