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Published February 08, 2011

The History of Ice Cream Sandwiches 

In 1917, as America embarked upon a military investment into the 1st World War, a young boy from Omaha, Nebraska would embark upon a food adventure that would change the future history of the world as we know it. 

            At the age of 7, William Dickweed Jr. knew he had a gift for dessert creation…some might call it a 6th sense…others, infooduition.  Dickweed was often found side by side with his mother, Carla Jefferson-Dickweed, in the kitchen making dessert while she cooked dinner. 

            One day, after noticing her son’s predilection for baking, she pulled little Dickweed aside and said to him, “Son, if you don’t stop playing around in the kitchen, everyone is going to think you are a big, dumb, homo.  Now here is your lunch…don’t be late for school.”

            But William was late for school, for he had decided to take the long way.  Little did he know that a strange drifter would be waiting for him on the long way.  The drifter pulled him aside and said,

             “What’s your name, young man?” 

“William Dickweed Jr.” said William Dickweed Jr. 

“Let me explain something to you, Dickweed.  There will come a time in your life when you are robbed by a homeless person.  And that time is now.” 

            So Dickweed continued on his way to school and when he got there, the school nurse was waiting for him.  “William, we need to talk,” she said.  So William, the school nurse, and the school counselor went into the principal’s office.  “William,” said the counselor, “your parents are going off to Europe to fight in the war.  Your dad is going to be an airman and your mother will be a nurse that soldiers have sex with when they are bored.  I know you will miss them while they are gone, but think of it this way…they’ll be dead soon.”

            So Dickweed went home to his empty house, from wherest his parents had abandoned him.  And he started cooking.  It wasn’t long before he had accidentally started a grease fire and burned down his house.  Now Dickweed was a homeless orphan.  He became familiar with the ways of the streets…the begging, the peddling, the aitch-jays.  He lived on the streets for a full year when he heard news that startled him.  A military messenger was looking for him. 

            Dickweed had seen the military messengers at work…they knock on your door and tell you that one of your loved ones had died in the war.  So he did his best to avoid him.  One day as little Dickweed was asleep in a gutter, he got a tap on the shoulder.  It was the messenger.

“William Dongsludge Dickweed Jr?” he asked. 

“That’s me,” replied the little bastard. 

“I have an official letter from the Army of the United States of America.  Your parents have both returned home safely.  Your father completed a dozen successful air raids in Germany, and your mother took it like a champ.  You’re no longer an orphan, son…congratulations.”

            Dickweed was shocked.  He could now return home to his parents…a new house supplied by the government; one with a fancy kitchen with all kinds of new cooking utensils.  And the greatest part of all was a shiny new ice cream maker. 

            Dickweed, knowing his parents didn’t want him cooking, set his alarm to wake him up in the middle of the night when his parents were asleep.  He crept out of bed and walked slowly to his parents’ room and made sure they were sound asleep and wouldn’t hear him.  He approached them slowly to make sure their eyes were shut.  They were out cold.  So little William murdered both of them.

            He was tried as an adult, given that he was so good at cooking, and sentenced to the electric chair.  The funny part was he was too small to fit in the electric chair.  So the community banded together to build a small, child-size electric chair so they could effectively fry the little fucker.  There was a town raffle to see who got to pull the switch, and just for good measure, they dressed him like a little girl while he was being electrocuted to death. 

            And while the little cross-dressed douchebag was frying like a thanksgiving turkey, a guy in the audience thought to himself, “You know what would be a good idea?  An ice cream sandwich.”  And that’s how ice cream sandwiches were invented. 

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