Been a bit since I last posted. No excuses. Judy did try and die on me a couple olf times, but she is much better now. Medical expenses bogged us down a bit, but thanks to good insurance and a doctor that pushed a pacemaker proceedure in before the first of year which would have put me back into the deductable abysis. We have light at the end of the tunnel. How do people survive without insurance? Oh and the Sea Hawks lost in the first round of the playoffs again. And unlike some people I will not cite Covid and the war in Ukrain for my lack of posting. Nor will I mention the fact that suddenly my blog was listed as deceptive, don’t go there if you value your electronics, and finally even I could not access my own fucking blog. Nor will I use depression for the fact that nobody reads my shit except for the people trying to sell me pot and viagra. At least someone was commenting but I stopped that by buying a span blocker. These are not excuses! And I will not use them to justify my lack of production. But on to new and exciiting topics, like cheese?
In my youth there were only three cheeses, cheddar, swiss, and Velveeta. It is often said that Velveeta is not really cheese. Websters defines cheese as “a food made from a milk or a milk-like substance taken from plants, that can be either firm or soft and is usually yellow or white in color”. The first ingredient listed on the Velveeta box is milk, it is yellow, and definitely soft. Ergo, it is cheese, and 74 million Trump voters can’t always be wrong. Cottage cheese is also technically a cheese, but I am omitting it from my list as in my humble opinion it looks and tastes like something that would come out of a chicken’s butt after it had been sexually molested with a Styrofoam dildo. I am pretty sure my mother was aware of that form of poultry abuse as she pronounced it as “cottage jeez”. Jeez is midwestern slang for something my mother used a vinegar douche for. Praise the Lord my zygote survived, although there were some complications. Think a t-shirt with “I survived a vinegar douche” would sell? Not my greatest idea, but I digress.
Seventy years later the three cheeses have morphed into endless varieties like, Gruyere, Gouda, Queso Blanco, Brie and Camembert. Then there is “Casu marzu”. This is a Sardinian cheese that contains live maggots! After the normal cheese fermentation process, the rind is removed and the cheese placed outside where the smell soon attracts the cheese fly, Piophila caseli , which lays its eggs which turn into larva which then begin to eat the cheese, making it very soft (and very rotten). Not only are these maggots alive when you eat the cheese, they are capable of jumping for distances of as far as six inches! Because of this people who actually eat this disgusting concoction often will hold their hands above the sandwich to stop the maggots from leaping into their faces. And that’s not the worst part. The maggots may not die in your stomach. This may result in a condition called pseudomyiasis. Symptoms vary but can involve boils, crawling sensations and buzzing noises, smelly discharges, fevers, facial edema, and death. So why in the wide world of sports do Sardinians eat this putrid and dangerous cheese? Because they believed it to be an aphrodisiac. What a man will do for a stiff pecker. I get oysters, maybe even ground rhino horn, but a cheese that can kill? For heavens sake, take a Viagra! It it’s the danger aspect that turns you on, visit a Bangkok whore house. Maybe you will get an STD, but they are usually curable, and the symptoms do not involve, boils and buzzy noises. Casu marzu is listed by the Guinness Book as the worlds most dangerous cheese. There is a Guinness list of dangerous cheeses? Ever wonder how they make Asiago? And all of you cheese purest bitch about Velveeta?! Maybe there really is some virtue in the America of 1952 with its lack of cheese diversity.
Then I discovered Kasseri. I love this cheese because you can pour a bit of ouzo on it, ignite it till it melts, and slather it on a piece of bread. One bite and you almost make it to heaven, being stopped only by the irresistible urge to yell OPA. Which is Greek for “jump” or “yahoo”, or “opps”. This expression is often used at Greek weddings followed by plate smashing. I have no clue as to why they break dishes, but it’s very Greek.
Kasseri is made from sheep’s milk. Do sheep produce enough milk to harvest? I have seen every episode of “Dirty Jobs” and never once saw Mike Rowe milk a sheep in the 10 seasons of that show. But if true, who milks a sheep? Must be some guy with little hands who probably survived a vinegar douche like I did. I can’t imagine earning your living milking sheep.
But then there are stranger careers. My friend Bill had a job in his youth where he helped gang rape turkeys. Seems like a Tom turkey is not efficient enough in his animal husbandry duties to impregnate enough hens to make it sufficiently profitable.
This problem was solved by pervert turkey farmers. First, they “milk” the Tom of his precious bodily fluids which in Bill’s turkey raping squad was performed by a man named Buff…figures. Then Bill would grab a hen and hand it off to another who would turn the bird upside down and spread its legs. Then the actual turkey fucker would insert a modified turkey baster into the hen’s glory hole and squirt in a tiny volume of diluted semen. I human terms I believe this sexual encounter is called the Jack Hammer. Bill said that in four hours they could impregnate 1500 hens. After hearing this I quietly threw up in my mouth and threw our turkey baster in the garbage in my latest binge of wokness. Hey! People pay more for free range chickens, what about rape free turkeys. Just a thought. One day I will come up with the big idea and you all will quit laughing at me.