Vanilla Ice's Concert Might Kill Us All

Death, Death, Baby.
Vanilla Ice's Concert Might Kill Us All

Vanilla Ice is known for being the whitest rapper alive and makes reference to that fact with everything from his stage name, to his lyrics, to his Ivan Drago haircut, to the choreography of his dance moves being reminiscent of some cross between "The YMCA" and "Baby Shark."

But Vanilla Ice might soon be known as the Vanilla Ice Cold Touch Of Death and the reason is because of this:

All concerts in Texas have essentially been canceled, except of course for a 2,500 person 3rd of July concert featuring our boy Ice. On the one hand, it's a wildly irresponsible time to have a concert as Texas is now breaking records with daily Covid-19 cases, yesterday seeing an increase of 8,029 new cases. On the other hand, have you seen this track jacket?

Wanll ir POInr MERALD BAR & GRILL WEDNESDAY JULY 3RD DOORS AT 7PM 5973 HILINE ROAD AUSTIN, TX 78734 VANILLAICEEPBG.EVENTBRITE.COM
Promotional flyer for Vanilla Ice's July 3 performance

Isn't it rad? I bet you can sew yourself a matching one with a bunch of discarded 4th of July tablecloths you have lying around somewhere. Also, why does the promo list the concert date as Wednesday, July 3rd when July 3rd is a Friday? Probably because every day is hump-day when you're as sexy as Ice. Or maybe it's to signify that humps are a new symptom that you'll get from the mutating coronavirus. It's hard to tell, but it's still not as confusing as this:

I seem to remember there being cell phones and computers in the '90s, but maybe all of that time spent playing Oregon Trail is just a COVID induced fever dream I'm having. Speaking of which, I also remember there being another epidemic our government didn't seem to care about called AIDS, so maybe this concert is a 90's throwback after all.

But just seriously take a moment and imagine this being the reason you die. Vanilla Ice threw a concert during the midst of a major pandemic, and rather than even make an attempt to slow the contagion, your delivery driver, or your postal worker, or your mom, (all late '40s and white by the way) decide they'd rather gather in a group to simultaneously shout, "Alright ... stop. Collaborate and listen." That's how you die. Because of the "Ice, Ice, Baby" guy. Maybe just kill me now.

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Top Image: Emerald Point Bar & Grill

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