I’ve got a serious problem. My problem has nothing to do with money, love, friends, or diabetes.

My problem is simply this - I’m sucking down Pop-Ice like a fiend.

I wish it were funny, but it really isn’t. I’ve found myself enjoying 12 of them in a single sitting. Sometimes I suck on the the sons of bitches while I’m using the toilet. My addiction apparently knows no bounds, and I’m helpless to stop it. Bridgette has thrice asked me to cut back, and each time my Pop-Ice passion leads me to spray her with urine and retreat into the woods. Seriously, without the 8 quarts of Pop-Ice running through my veins, I most likely wouldn’t have done that to her.

I like how cold the Pop-Ice is when I eat it. It feels like I’m in a refrigerator! Sometimes I chew it up so it’s slushy, and sometimes I suck on big chunks of it at a time. Either way, it is so delicious that it makes a milkshake taste like fresh raccoon piss. The Pop-Ice comes in many savory flavors that I enjoy. In order, I like red, pink, orange, purple, and green. Technically, blue is also a flavor, but I like to think of it as more of a horrible factory error that led directly to the death of an innocent child laborer in Taiwan.

Any way you slice it, Pop-Ice is with me forever, and none of you can change that. None of you! SHUT UP! You’re just jealous of the Pop-Ice! You can’t have what we have! Pop-Ice and I are going to live in a cabin in Vermont, eating Pop-Ice by day, and wolverine flesh by night, and I will feed Pop-Ice the succulent chunks of beast-flesh by the campfire until Pop-Ice melts and dies!