So serious that the Girl Scouts are cutting back costs by putting less cookies per box. It wasn't until I read this story that I felt the rapidly spiraling economy had really affected me, Nic Ouzo, connoisseur and consumer of fatty shit. I mean, foreclosure and unemployment are all fun and games, but less cookies? Now there are real victims to the crisis, namely me, the eater of Thin Mints.
Of course, I only mention Thin Mints because they're the only cookie worth a damn. But it also brings up a mildly interesting story that just proves how insanely delicious they are. There's a Dairy Queen over by Joe Reefer's house that we rarely visit, because they're run by Puritanical reverse-vampire assholes that close the place by 9. And since we believe in only doing things at night, it's never open when we need it. But this past summer, for one month they had Thin Mint as their special blizzard flavor. Joe and I kept attempting to remember to go out early enough to get such a dessert, but something would always come up, like the need to watch some Bond marathon. We finally remembered to hit the DQ, but one day after the promotion ended. However, they had enough left over that they let us purchase two small blizzards.
We immediately regretted this decision. Because that shit was fucking delicious. Even though I was trying to watch my figure, I should have ordered a Super Gigantofuck helping of that ice cream. Joe had never really had the same love of the Thinned Mint, but this blizzard made him a goddamn convert to the Church of the Everlasting Thin Mint.
So I'm here to offer my threat to the economy to shape up or ship out:
You don't touch my fucking Thin Mints. Consider yourself warned.
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