Chocolate and Sprinkle Covered Waffle on a Stick

This weekend Vinny (who has yet to post) and I went to Quebec City with out significant others for all sorts of “close to Euro” fuckery. Everyone who isn’t me decided it would be a great idea to slide down a giant slope of ice at 70 km/h on a toboggan made before I had dick hair. Reluctantly I agreed.

So we’re in the booth where you procure the tickets when we discovered a snack so simple and glorious it never even crossed my mind to hook this up at home. I proudly present to you: Waffle on a Stick.

They had a few diverse types of this welfare luxury but I opted for Chocolate Covered with Springles (they meant sprinkles).

This behemoth looks like a giant chocolate cock covered in delicious rainbow coloured dick warts. This is supernatural.

It’s not often that I’ll eat something and just know that I’m in the presence of fucking greatness. I feel for this snack what I can only assume socio-political nerds feel about Zinn or Chomsky lectures. The key difference is that waffles on sticks will give me the runs but I don’t think Howard Zinn will (unless I ask him nicely).

Here’s the scenario:

-You’re penniless and wholly destitute.

-You have amassed ghastly drug habits.

-You are disheartened and despondent passed any and all rationalization.

-You have dug yourself a hole so unfathomably vast that you believe there is no way you will be able to claw yourself out.

-You have agreed to be hunted with the caveat that if you survive you will be remunerated with a lump sum of 750,000$.

-You are supplied with a canteen, water purification tablets, a serrated edged blade, and four pairs of dry white cotton socks, as well as the clothes on your back.

Without realising that you would be heading out to the woods right away you chose to wear your red sweatpants. Mistake number 1.

Additionally you wore a lime green mesh baseball cap with the words “Got a Bad ‘Tude” handsomely silk-screened to the front of it. Mistake number 2.

You know nothing about the woods and even less about getting shot at by professional hunters. Mistake number 3.

Inside of five minutes you get shot and die. You get no money and they leave your corpse in the woods to be defiled and ravaged by wild dogs.

The previous scenario is exactly like eating a chocolate and sprinkle covered waffle on a stick. You can’t fucking win! This ogre will constantly best you!

Also I like your red sweatpants.