Chocolate malted milkshake

The drink is not shaken even though it says so right in its title. It is mixed with a high-speed emersion blender. Always has been. All through milkshake history. Initially an old fashioned mounted emersion blender made specifically for tall glasses, large heavy contraptions managed by professional jerks. Soda jerks. All this predating the modern slimmed down handheld emersion blender. The ice cream and milk are spun. Milkspins. Milkturns. Milktornados, milkeddies, milkcranks, milktwists, blendedmilk, anything is better than milkshake. Whoever invented the term milkshake is a dope.

"Let's call it milkshake." 

     "Okay."

"Okay." "Okay." "Sure." "Okay." "Sounds good." "Okay." "Fine." "Dig it." "Whatever." "Okay." "Okay." "Fine." "Sure."

You're all dopes. Sometimes I must be the pillar of stability and rationality and common sense amid a slapping angry ocean of insanity. Constantly, actually, this happens all the time.

When I said that in the real world my interlocutor cracked up laughing so hard it totally wrecked our serious conversation. I was standing there nonplussed thinking, "Okay, this shows that he's listening." Still, it happens. Usually I don't accept language like this, language provided by political parties for example, language provided by media. I reject their narrative basics, but this time since everyone knows instantly what the gigantic misnomer milkshake means and with no subliminal malfeasance detected, with nothing to gain for everyone agreeing on an incredibly stupid term, I go ahead and use the term too. What the heck. 

"Lord Jesus, why was I put on this insane planet that calls milkspins milkshakes when nothing about it is shaken?" 

        "You asked for it. And you fit right in." 

"Oh."





"Your food is all brown again."

        "FINE!"

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