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Thoughts About Cheese

July 30, 2012

Sit down and I’ll tell you a story. It’s a story about cheese.

Once upon a time, there was a piece of cheese. His name was Georgianofalugaped, but his friends called him Roberta. He was born on the mountain of Lampio to his parents Swiss and Provolone. Now, people had warned Swiss and Provolone about the dangers of breeding across species, but they were so in lust that they refused to listen to anyone. And so, Georgianofalugaped was born.

Georgianofalugaped wasn’t like all the other kids. While Bobby Joe and Carly Sue and all the other boys and girls rode in their red wagons during recess, Georgianofalugaped would sit on a plate with Bread and wait to be eaten. Nobody called him Roberta back then. Nobody called him at all.

One day during recess a new kid showed up. Butch Muthergunner from East West Virginia. He was the sweetest, politest bully you’d ever meet. Unless you’re a piece of cheese, that is. The moment he stepped onto the playground, he ran right up to Georgianofalugaped and Bread’s plate and glared down.

I ain’t had my breakfast today!” he declared. And with that, he swallowed the two whole.

Life carried on as usual for weeks. Nobody noticed that Georgianofalugaped and Bread were missing. Well, Georgianofalugaped and Bread knew that they were missing, but they also knew that no one cared.

One day 5 years later, Bobby Joe looked up during a math test. “Where’s Roberta?” he wondered aloud, “She’s gonna miss the exam.” Nobody knew who he was talking about. The teacher thought he was trying to cheat somehow. Actually one person knew, but he was doing time

…s tables in the classroom next door. He smiled to himself.

The End

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