Dear Cheese, I have to break up with you. Wait, don’t cry (even though your tears would be delicious little curds), you know its for the best. Given how close weve been for so long, this probably seems like it’s coming out of the blue (the one side of you I never really “got”) but you have to understand, it’s not because I don’t love you. Just think about all the good times weve had together. Some great times, actually. The second I shake loose a loaded chip from a melted, cheddar-soaked mountain of nachos, I couldnt care if you were made out of baby unicorns. I would be quite happy gleefully ignoring the nagging pangs of conscience from here until my clogged arteries drag me into my taco coffin lined with shredded pepperjack. So why, you ask, are we breaking up? It’s not you, it’s me. Actually, that’s a lie. It’s totally you. I can’t stand how high maintenance you are. It used to be grate but these days, whenever I hang out with you it leads to pain. You get in the whey. I’m going to miss you. I already do. But trust me when I say it’s for the best, because what we have now is just no gouda anymore.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 23:32:58 +0000
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