I mean, what can I say?
It’s been a week since my impassioned plea for a Cheese Wheelin’ Poetry Passion.
For those of you who didn’t see that particular post, it’s easy enough to find.
Just scroll back a bit. About a week oughta do.
In that post, I put forth my own two cents, concerning cheese, in the form of two poems – one an original, and one a treatment of cheese that might have made the Bard himself proud – or nauseous.
And then I asked for contributions to the vast repertory of Limburger Literature, if you will…
The response has been staggering, and bewildering – and all kinds of other emotions that can only be made stronger by adding an ‘ing’ suffix.
Which is to say, the response has been nonexistent.
Whoa, Nellie, nary a peep.
An auger should have the ability to bore that I do.
So I’m thinking there’s a problem… with me. Maybe I’m the only one out there who loves cheese so much. Maybe I’m the one who needs to put the cheese knife down and back away. Cheesy chastity (does Betty Ford work with cheese, I wonder?) – I say – Roquefort rehab would seem to be an inevitability, in my near future. Somebody please do an intervention.
But that can’t be right – I can’t be the only one with such a forbidden passion… can I?
(I have found the fervor that dare not speak its name; and it’s called… Lactose Love!)
So I go to the internet – that bulwark of free speech and cheesy goodness.
I type ‘the most beautiful picture of cheese ever’ into the search box.
It would seem I’m not the only one in need of some tough love.
Oh, my, there are some people out there with a serious feta fetish.
I count myself proud to be just as maniacal about mold as the rest of them.
The very first hit, which wasn’t even a picture, was for a Buzz Feed article, entitled:
Wait for it…
Well, let’s just click the snot right outta that link, shall we…?
Turns out, the entire article is mostly a review for a book, by one Michelle Buffardi, which you can find here.
There’s even one that goes like this:
I was speechless.
How could they do such things to my beloved cheese?
Wasn’t (isn’t) cheese sacred? That’s like drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Or putting a loin cloth on the David, or muzzling every ding-dang politician in the land…
Okay, I’ll give you that last one.
And the cat is kinda cute… and the owl…
But it seems like everyone and their brother’s uncle’s favorite nephew’s brother (that’s… everyone, by the way) has got something to say about cheese.
Like this one for:
Or how about this one:
Okay, so there’s a lot of people out there, who seem awfully focused on cooking.
And why not?
But do they have to mess with my beloved cheese? I mean, adding cheese to a recipe just makes whatever the cheese is being added to all the better. But to take it and mush it up into balls is just…
And then I saw this one:
Is that… bacon?
Perhaps I was a bit rash, in my – entirely honest and heartfelt – criticism of the treatment that cheese has received, at the hands of this lovely, lovely woman. Perhaps I shouldn’t paint myself into pasteurized corners like that, without giving the issue more careful thought. Maybe it’s time to come out of the moldy closet, and join the rest of the world, in the harmony and full-bodied aroma of peace, and fellowship… and cheese.
I can do this kinda stuff all day long.
You want it to stop?
Let’s get those poems moving, then.
Send ’em on in.
I got all the time in the world…
ALL photos in this post, and the gif, are from the self-same Buzz Feed article. I claim no ownership nor proprietary rights, other than those assumed by all cheese lovers everywhere. Again, ALL photos are from the aforementioned article…
Except for this one, by somebody else:
And what does one serve as a beverage, with such a Pumpkin Cutey-Pie?
Why, a Starbucks Pumpkin Latte, of course…