Yesterday, at the Ice Cream Factory outside of Peppercorns, I was confronted by a wicked set of circumstances. Their specialty sundaes (saturdaes as they call them (my faithful readers can probably guess how I feel about that)) are all named for Worcester landmarks and schools. There's the WPI. There's the Holy Cross. And there in front of me was the Clark Cougar. Chocolate ice cream, peanut butter cups, and hot fudge. It's not my favorite combination of things to put in a sundae, but it was the closest thing on the menu. So I chose Clark. Again. Obviously I finished it. Who wouldn't finish ice cream?
Interesting sidenote: As I write this, Murder by Death is incessantly singing that "there's still time to start again."