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Exactly my sentiment. In my teens, I worked in a supermarket for several months, and dealt with almost every popular cheese one can think of. I tried most of them, and still don't like cheese to this day. Incidentally, did you know that the sweat from cheese and also the sweat from your feet is chemically the same?
The chemistry lab wing in my school had to be evacuated and the fire brigade called in because someone spilled the bottle of cheesey feet acid onto a bench. The bench didn't do too well out of it, so have a thought for socks this Christmas.
The first film to be banned by the censors in the UK was a time lapse piece focused on blue cheese - it moved. The blue veins are live bacteria.
[quote=mike olley]It's always this time of year that I think of cheeses...[/quote]
Why? Are you constantly performing body contortions where one's legs are thrown over one's shoulders and one scuttles around like a spider with one's feet too close to one's nose?
Sighs and looks at watch: Dora's been in the bathroom for twelve hours - she's not coming back, is she?
He'd started drinking her drink, a snowball, four hours ago, now he'd finished it. It didn't taste sweet anymore, just sickly. All that was left was the red glace cherry: they always reminded him of dog's noses, he should've said that, or being this time of the year, maybe rudolph's nose - shiny and red. He should've said that. But instead he'd said something stupid.
Now Dora had gone and wasn't coming back. He thought they were getting on, 'avin' a larf. But no, why did he say the cocktail cherry reminded him of baby cheeses? What was he thinking? She'd stared at him, glanced at his open-toed sandals (I know, a poor choice for this time of year but at least he wasn't wearing socks too) and she'd put 2+2 together equating the answer to religion and with a nervous laugh had made her excuses. She'd got it all wrong, he'd wanted to talk mini-babybells.
Oh well, looks at rain lashing against the window and puts on coat that looks good on but is also woefully inadequate for this time of the year.
"Is it Parmesan?" he says, waking up the barman.
"Is what Parmesan?"
"The cheese that weighs... it doesn't matter."
Barman stares.
"It's okay, I'm going." Shuts the bar door behind him and steps out into the rain. "Oh well, at least the world didn't end." He says turning up his collar against the downpour and feeling optimistic. "There's plenty more fish in the sea, and it looks like the sea's getting closer by the minute." Wades off thinking, I know that cheese made backwards is Edam. Maybe cheese just isn't funny these days...
"peeps around wall at street corner, sucks on Cheesestring (Twister variety) while watching mike wading off into a rain-cloud, clutching a fishing rod"
I was asked, along with a few other ladies to produce something a little different to sell on
the food stall for the Xmas fete, so I made a string vest out of cheese strings, well they asked.
Comments
Yet I wouldn't know as I''m off cheese at the moment.
Something to do with the blue veined stuff.
Reminds me of legs that irritate, riddled with with varicose veins and breath that smells like death.
Love a smelly stilton.
Exactly my sentiment. In my teens, I worked in a supermarket for several months, and dealt with almost every popular cheese one can think of. I tried most of them, and still don't like cheese to this day. Incidentally, did you know that the sweat from cheese and also the sweat from your feet is chemically the same?
[/quote]
I expect that's where the saying "cheesey feet" comes from.
The first film to be banned by the censors in the UK was a time lapse piece focused on blue cheese - it moved. The blue veins are live bacteria.
I love cheese.
Here's another one - which cheese consistantly weighs the same?
Oh no - that's Pound Cake, isn't it?
:(
Why? Are you constantly performing body contortions where one's legs are thrown over one's shoulders and one scuttles around like a spider with one's feet too close to one's nose?
"runs to ladies room and escapes through window"
He'd started drinking her drink, a snowball, four hours ago, now he'd finished it. It didn't taste sweet anymore, just sickly. All that was left was the red glace cherry: they always reminded him of dog's noses, he should've said that, or being this time of the year, maybe rudolph's nose - shiny and red. He should've said that. But instead he'd said something stupid.
Now Dora had gone and wasn't coming back. He thought they were getting on, 'avin' a larf. But no, why did he say the cocktail cherry reminded him of baby cheeses? What was he thinking? She'd stared at him, glanced at his open-toed sandals (I know, a poor choice for this time of year but at least he wasn't wearing socks too) and she'd put 2+2 together equating the answer to religion and with a nervous laugh had made her excuses. She'd got it all wrong, he'd wanted to talk mini-babybells.
Oh well, looks at rain lashing against the window and puts on coat that looks good on but is also woefully inadequate for this time of the year.
"Is it Parmesan?" he says, waking up the barman.
"Is what Parmesan?"
"The cheese that weighs... it doesn't matter."
Barman stares.
"It's okay, I'm going." Shuts the bar door behind him and steps out into the rain. "Oh well, at least the world didn't end." He says turning up his collar against the downpour and feeling optimistic. "There's plenty more fish in the sea, and it looks like the sea's getting closer by the minute." Wades off thinking, I know that cheese made backwards is Edam. Maybe cheese just isn't funny these days...
There are times when only a bit o' bread and mousetrap hits the spot.
My daughter loves Adam Ant songs. Personally I like Let It Brie by The Beatles
I thought "Very Mature!"
I also have an addiction to Cheddar cheese.
Although it's only mild.
E dam lies i reckon
the food stall for the Xmas fete, so I made a string vest out of cheese strings, well they asked.
I knew him when he was a young lad. A big big guy who used to gorge himself on cheese. Hopefully he may have matured a bit by now..