Ben-and-Jerrys

Technically, it happened Monday night. But I’m still feeling it.

I ate an entire pint of “Marsha Marsha Marshmallow,” and chased it with a glass of eggnog laced with Extra Old Mount Gay.

Then I died.

Via Boing Boing, but I was alerted by Mir:

I am so dead if my wife gets one. .

Six minutes.

That’s how long it took for me to deliver a pint of blood from my body to the little rubbery plastic bag. Piece of cake. And I got a nifty t-shirt and juice to go with it.

And now? I’m having a glass of wine (it’s been 8 hours, I didn’t just give blood) and damn it tastes good. I should do this more often.

(anybody who thought the title referred to ben and jerry’s? is absolutely correct. One more week till I can have some)

The Ben and Jerry’s is gone.

Actually, I ate it two nights ago, just didn’t admit it until now.

tell me I’m not the only person to use a wine opener to get into a pint of ben and jerry’s.

please. humor me.