Twas a night like this, about five years ago. Hot and steamy in New York's West Village, working at the record store that shall not be named, when the overpowering (note immediate reference cross-reference) need for a slushie took hold. I searched high and low, to no avail.
It kind of stabbed me on a certain scale that I couldn't find a simple slushie in the city that swelters in those summer months. Italian Ices. Crappichinos. Of course, frozen margs. No slushies. Anywhere.
I just thought the best thing would be to open a slushie store. But it had to be more than just slushies. MORE! It's no secret that I have a fascination with good porn. Always have since I found those mags under my fathers bed. I'm sure they found mine later. A family that snoops together...
Slushies and Porn. Five daily slushie flavours. Five of the hottest gay and five straight porns. And t-shirts. Because let's face it, what person in the world wouldn't want a Slushies and Porn t-shirt. New York. Knoxville. Taipei.
This is our culture dump. For the chilliest ... for the williest. You know and all that goes inbetween. For everything that needs a . . . (dot dot dot)
Now before you run someone over on your broomstick...
GET A DRIVER.
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