Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2018/02/03/east-coasters-theres-now-a.html
…
None of the potholes that I have been in have tasted anything like ice cream.
Except for the one by the Häagen-Dazs overflow discharge pipe… that was a wonderful day.
How can a pothole have a flavour? It’s a void.
Meh, it’s been done. We’ve had pothole ice cream in Minneapolis since 2010.
“In America, every bubble…” tastes like a pothole.
In Soviet Russia pothole fills you!
San Francisco flavor will be the poophole
Well, if you didn’t “a-void” them you might find out:rofl:
Besides, the absence of flavor is a flavor too </end_of_pseudophilosphy>
All that talk of gravel and asphalt is making me hungry.
Poor East Portland. All pot holes and pot stores, no ice cream.
If they wanted to be accurate they should’ve made it taste bitter.
Weird marketing stunt aside, that sounds delicious.
Pot holes are made with real pot where it’s legal.
But is the absence of flavor as we experience it truly an absence, or is it the flavor of the inside of your mouth? I’m not eating that ice cream.
Of course it’s chocolate flavored:
I assume she then murdered him, and the jury refused to convict as it was clearly justified.
The barbarity–yeah I read that and shuddered.
Ye gods, if anyone touches my Japanese sewing scissors,* there will be blood. And not mine.
My dad once sewed a shaped tarp forwards and backwards on my mom’s 1959 Kenmore, an all-steel machine that was able to tolerate the abuse even though my dad never did figure out how to use the backstitch toggle.
* Hidden, labeled with permanent ink, and stored along with my sewing machines, threads and notions.