Gum & Popsicles

It is May 31st, and the summer is rapidly approaching. This is important.

Each summer, I get my hair styled in the ever-popular mullet cut, grow a handlebar mustache, subsist on only lime flavored popsicles and cinnamon raisin toast, and go from neighborhood to neighborhood scrapping chewed gum from the sidewalks and streets of my fine city. It is only in the summer, when the sun scorches the cement sidewalks and asphalt streets, that the chewed gum can be coerced into loosening its stubborn grip on the tiny patch of pavement it has called home all winter long.

Let me be clear on one thing - I do not use my fingers, nor my teeth, to clean the gum up. I use popsicle sticks (I like to call them "Popsicle Skeletons" and will henceforth refer to all popsicle sticks as "Popsicle Skeletons").

I know you well, my avid reader, loyal fan and lifelong servant! You are smart, intelligent, good looking, and both admire and appreciate my genius (However, I must note with a twinge of disappointment - you are apparently not very well off, as I have yet to receive any cash donations). That is how I know you are asking yourself "How on earth does TBTMNS keep his daily dose of 19 lime flavored popsicles from melting as he transverses the baking city in search of gum carcases?". A most excellent question my pupil! Let me explain...

I have a wagon. I have a bike. I have affixed the wagon, which I painted bright yellow and call "Fred", to the bike. Resting within the wagon is a mini-refrigerator. I call the mini-fridge "Melissa". I have affixed solar panels to Melissa's lovely frame so that she can run on the energy that is emitted from the earth's nearest star, which I affectionately refer to as "The Sun". It is this little bit of ingenuity (coupled with dedication and moxy) that keeps my daily stash of lime popsicles from melting and fuels my ceaseless journey through the city's gum covered streets.