in one of the in-patient rehab places they would let us get little styrofoam tubs of vanilla ice cream (the kind with a wooden spoon taped to it) and they also had those small peanut butter to-go packets (pic related). I mixed them up and sat on the patio every day smoking a pack of newports listening to Sam and Cheryl bicker about a dress being black or blue or gold or some shit. good times.