Not a choc-ice, per se, but a "Maxibon". The biscuit makes for a far more interesting culinary experience.
Pity the renowned international footballist and self-styled "best defender in the world", Mr. Rio Ferdinand. Following the acquital of the renowned international footballist and self-styled "boss gooser", Mr. John Terry, on charges of bestowing the less-than-flattering epithet "fucking black cunt" on Mr. Ferdinand's brother, the somewhat less renowned non-international footballist Mr. Anton Ferdinand, Mr. Ferdinand-the-elder-and- more-illustrious took to the popular cyber strand, "The Twitter", to make plain his feelings on the matter. A "follower" of his deposited a "tweet" stating that the renowned international footballist and self-styled "friend" of Mr. John Terry, Mr. Ashley Cole, was a "choc-ice" (sic.), which Mr. Ferdinand-the-elder-and-more-illustrious found hilarious, for unknown reasons.
Unfortunately, Mr. Ferdinand-the-elder-and-more-illustrious's quest for victim status at once remove ,as a result of this travesty of justice took something of a knock as he himself was accusing of condoning racial abuse; to whit the apparently perjorative term "choc-ice". Mr. Ferdinand-the-elder-and-more-illustrious (hereby known as Mr. FTEAML, because I am as tired as typing the full description as I am sure you are of reading it) hotly denied that the term was pejorative in a racially-insulting way; the term, it seems, was in common currency among the black community, and merely implied that Mr. Cole was a "fake".
(Eager to corroborate Mr. FTEAML's assertion, I searched cyberspace for the 1987 hit disc by the diaphoretic soul singer, Mr. Alexander O'Neal, in which he sang "you're a choc ice, baby/you can't conceal it/know how I know it/'cause I can feel it...". Sadly, my research yielded nothing. Perhaps Mr. O'Neal realised that the term did not "scan" to well in the song's lyrics, and was in fact singing "you're a FLAKE, baby", referring to another popular chocolate confection. But I digress, wildly.)
Now, my concern is not to explore the etymology and motivation behind racially perjorative language, or to determine whether or not Mr. John Terry was guilty of the charges laid at his door (though I am of the opinion that he is an arrogant, odious lout who is overdue a good slap and will, if one believes in karma, be at the centre of a perfect shitstorm of his own making very soon indeed). What does interest me, however, is the seemingly irresistable urge for renowned international and non-international professional footballists to bare themselves to the full glare of public scrutiny via the gift of "The Twitter". When they are not accusing others of being a "choc-ice", a "Bounty bar", a "stick of rock", or some other confection, they are flaunting vulgar trinkets acquired using their ostenatious wealth, sharing the intimate details of their hair transplant or removal procedures, showing close-up images of their tumescent genitalia or, in perhaps the most bizarre and extreme example, believing himself to be the modern-day incarnation of M. René Descartes.
Perhaps the organization responsible for "The Twitter" should carry an additional question on their registration procedure, stating thus: "Are you a professional footballist (international or non-international) of some renown?" All answers in the affirmative should result in the submitter being placed on the opposite side of a firewall from "The Twitter", and guided toward a locale more suited to their psyche. As well as protecting them from themselves, this exclusion of renowned international/non-international footballists should also serve to spare the rest of us from the inane baiting of shit cunts moronic trolls eager to serve their own egos.
Do others imagine that renowned international/non-international footballists are aware of what twits they appear to be via the gift of "The Twatter"?
