Last night I had quite a strange dream where I took off my shirt to find a big red tattoo with the words “Sex Machine” written across my chest. Maybe somewhere in my subconscious I think that I hide some sort alter ego who is a true sex machine.
But today after eating three ice cream bars, I recalled one summer in my early high school years when I was rather fascinated by ice cream sandwiches. I think that my record was eating ten in one day. Of course, at the time, I was working as a soccer coach in a summer camp and would then play two hours of soccer each evening, so it was not such an unhealthy existence as you’d think. While finishing my third ice cream today and recalling my childhood binges, I contemplated how I really loved sandwiches and cookies and occasionally ice cream.
That’s when I considered going down to the Chinese convenience store below my apartment and combining the three to get myself one big ice cream cookie sandwich. When I gave it more thought, though, I decided against the whole sweet idea. I don’t want to wake up one morning after having a dream about being labeled a sex machine to find a real life tattoo of an enormous ice cream sandwich on my belly.