I love two things in this sad mockery of an existence that I do charitably call a life. One is the sound a human soul makes when a person finally realizes that none of their life’s ambiti0ns will ever be met and that their entire being has been one long string of lies to themselves promising a better day in some mythical “tomorrow” that will not only never come, but had never even been in the first place. And the other is cheese.
So why the shit am I just now finding out that October, THIS October, the one that we’re in right the fuck now, has been declared by no lesser body than the American Cheese Society to be the first annual “American Cheese Month”!? Huh? HUH?! Oh yes it is. You look that shit up!
Where? Where might you look up information on American Cheese Month you ask? Where might news and information about this most wondrous of celebrations be hidden on the internets? So difficult, nigh impossible to find, buried in all of the complexities of cryptic URLs? Well, only at AMERICANCHEESEMONTHDOTMUTHAFUCKIN’ORG! It’s been right there the whole damned time and nobody even bothered to tell me!? Fuckers!
You know who loves cheese more than me? Do you have a guess? Go on, guess. No, go on, I’ll give you one guess. You know what, I’ll give you a million guesses. I’ll give you 7 billion guesses. You could name every other human being on this planet, living or undead and each and every guess would be the fuck wrong! Because NOBODY is the answer! Nobody loves cheese more than I do. No ten men combined love cheese even a hundredth as much as I do! If you took the next hundred men who love cheese less than me, and stacked them all, one after another on top of each others shoulders, I would punch them in the fucking nuts and yell “I LOVE CHEESE!” in their stupid non-cheese loving faces!
You know how much you love breathing? That’s ALMOST as much as I love cheese!
I love cheese like diabetics hate feet!
This is the most adorably small of my cheese pantries...
So here I am, over a third of the way through this glorious month of cheese celebration, I have all of this lost cheese time to make up and by god, I’m going to attack cheese with a fury unmatched by any of my previous innumerous cheese gorging sessions on record. I already eat an unreasonable amount of cheese. Give me a REASON to do so without limit and I will do dangerous things to my colon. Tell me that I’ve MISSED almost two weeks of cheesy self abuse and there is no hope for me and in lieu of flowers you should send gifts of cheese to my grave because I will still be cramming cheese down my eat hole a full 96 hours after I’ve been declared clinically, legally and in all other ways deceased.
And like I, this grotesque cheese monster that I am, need any sort of guidance on how I should abuse my innards with cheese, the article that informed me of the existence of this month long Cheesebration offers some suggestions of how to worship this most holy of milk based food stuffs.
1. Visit a local cheese maker and watch how cheese is made.
Doom says “Pah!” I don’t need to sit outside a plexiglass room in a paper surgical mask while some high falutin’ Cheeseologist punches a cow in the teets until a springer spaniel dressed like a garden gnome scares itself with its own fart — I KNOW how cheese is made!
2. Find out if you’re local grocery store carries any local cheeses. If they do, buy one instead of your normal block of cheddar from the dairy aisle.
You son of a bitch. Are you trying to tell me how to buy cheese? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’ve had cheeses that could kill a man like you, don’t you presume, City Jim, that a sniveling hamster turd like you could ever lecture me on cheese selection! Don’t you DARE!
3. Follow the cheese trail. Like a wine trail, a cheese trail takes you from one cheese producer to the next — all located close to each other.
Clearly this list is being put together for babies, because if you think I haven’t stalked every cheese maker within’ driving distance to the point of physical expulsion and permanent banishment from their premises already, then you just don’t understand a passion for cheese which has resulted in multiple bullet riddled misunderstandings.
4. Make your own cheese. Mozzarella cheese is considered one of the easiest cheeses for beginners to make.
You want me to make a what? Mozzarella? You’re telling me to make a mozzarella?! Fuck a mozzarella! I made my first mozzarella in my first trimester! You know what I want to make? I wanna make a Fahlshmacher! Without question THE single most difficult cheese to master. And do you know what makes a Fahlshmacher so difficult to make? The fact that it doesn’t even exist since I just made it the fuck up! Mozzarella?! I’ll barbeque my entire taint before I waste your time and MINE on a god damned mozzarella!
And the rest of the list just goes on like that with suggestions like ordering cheese for desert, trying goat cheese, “Attend or host a wine and cheese tasting” AND “Attend or host a beer and cheese tasting” as two separate suggestions because this fraud couldn’t even come up with ten cheese related things to do without just changing one word and calling it journalism! He even suggests following a cheese blog. Sir, I AM a cheese blog.
But it was his final suggestion that nearly led to the deaths of all of those around me by the sheer power of my radiated anger.
10. Build a better grilled cheese sandwich.
Uuuh-UH--GGUHHH! ... Okay, gonna need fresh pants...
You sir, come to my home, slap around my wife, urinate on my children and violate my furniture in ways that it was not expressly built to be inserted, and you have the gall to not only tell me to build a better grilled chee, but to then include ANOTHER link to a list of ten grilled cheese sammiches. The spontaneous explosion of a Queensland Primary school class egret named “Falkland” went largely unreported this afternoon, but I know it happened, since I spent the next sixty-eight minutes after reading this suggestion concentrating all of my rage and anger unto that poor animal. And in it’s final moments, it knew, it understood and it high fived me through the astral plane knowing that it’s explosion would not be in vain.
Don’t you talk to me about grilled chee creation. I AM grilled chee creation! I invent more grilled chee variations before my morning grunt and splash than all of the rest of the greatest minds in the grilled chee sciences have since the invention of fired sandwiches!
I’m sorry. This was not how I wanted to begin my celebration of cheese in all of its splendiferous forms. I simply wanted to inform you that you should be taking this opportunity to embrace this wonder food in its specially designated block of time. Expand your cheesy horizons. Savor its goodness. I did not intend to launch my observance of the thirty one days of cheese by psychically detonating a beloved school room mascot. But I am that fucking serious about this.
I love cheese…