I present to you a photographic montage with a dramatic reading from Robert Van Winkle

"Yo, VIP.  Let's kick it!"

"Alright, stop.  Collaborate, and listen.  Ice is back, with a brand-new invention.  Something grabs ahold of me tightly; flow like a harpoon, daily and nightly."

"Will it ever stop?  Yo, I don't know.  Turn out the lights and I'll glow!  To the extreme, I rock a mic like a vandal, light up the stage and wax a chump like a candle."

"DANCE."

"Corrupt the speakers that boom.  I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom."

"DEADLY."

"When I play a dope melody, anything less than the best is a felony.  Love it or leave it, you better gain weight!  You better hit bulls-eye; the kid don't play.  If there was a problem, yo, I'd solve it.  Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it!"

"ICE, ICE, BABY."

"VANILLA ICE, ICE, BABY."

"Now that the party is jumping, with the bass kicked in and the Vegas are pumping, quick to the point to the point no faking.  Cooking emcees like a pound of bacon." 

[I was not aware there would be bacon at this party.  Suddenly I am a lot more interested.  Continue, Robert.]

"Burning them, if you ain't quick and nimble.  I go crazy when I hear a cymbal and a hi-hat with a souped-up tempo.  I'm on a roll!  It's time to go solo!"

"Rolling in my 5.0 with the rag-top down so my hair can blow.  The girlies all stand by, waving just to say hi."

Did you stop?

"No.  I just drove by, kept on pursuing to the next stop.  Busted a left and I'm heading to the next block.  The block was dead, so I continued to A1A."

"BEACHFRONT AVENUE!"

"Girls were hot, wearing less than bikinis; rockman lovers, driving Lamborghinis, jealous 'cause I'm out getting mine.  Shay with the gauge, and Vanilla with the nine."

Um.  Robert?  This is getting ridiculous.  And a little weird.  Can you wrap it up, please?

"Yo, let's get out of here."

"Word to your mother."

Ice, ice baby, indeed.  Happy February!!!

*This post brought to you by too much coffee and hazy lyrical recollections.