Every sodding weekend our peace and quiet is rudely interrupted by the ice cream can roaring up our road. Not playing that tinkly tune I remember from my childhood, no he plays the birdie song. His bright pink air horns atop his ridiculous cream and pink van bellowing the awful tune as loud as possible. Not only that he charges £1.80 for a 99 made out of that horrible fake ice cream.
He rarely gets any takers so can he just piss off now please?!