Muenster is the king of cheeses. Is there anything creamier and more pleasantly cheesy? I had an annoyingly slender friend in high school who would buy it buy the block and scrape off bits with a butter knife until it was devoured. This process usually only took about twenty minutes. Though I saw her repeat this performance often, the look of stunned satisfaction on my face each time she finished a block was always the same. I had the uneasy feeling of a conspiring frat boy in a chugalug contest, one who isn’t actually drinking, but is pretty sure he knows what the hangover will feel like.
Right now, I am one hour and a half past my strip deadline, so naturally I signed onto LJ to talk all about how I spent 12th Night, which doubles as mine and J.’s anniversary. We played cribbage and smoked and had creamy café au laits and a fire in the fireplace and I worked on my strips and on my zine and J. played with his computer and kitty snuggled in next to the fire and didn’t move.
Before we were able to have the fire, however, we had to go out and spend about ten bucks on one evening’s worth of firewood. Worth it for an anniversary, but no more than that. It took thirty minutes of warming up the car to get it to drive the 300 ft. to the Texaco station to buy wood. I’d have walked, but I was pretty sure my legs were going to freeze off if I went more than twenty feet. It was damned cold.
Oh yeah, it was our sixth. So now we are in year seven of our unholy union. Seems to be working out so far.