
recharging my vibe between songs, my only friend in the room left me to my own devices where i struck up a conversation with a local cheese saleswoman.
we talk.
we laughed.
we talked more.
i awkwardly begged her for her sassy sandals, claiming they would complete my ensemble....
and as she got pulled away, she invited me to her cheese shop where i would "learn the secret to amazing grilled cheeses."
so now, a la sarah jessica parker, i type, alone, on my bed: does a relationship need to be based on more than just cheese?
Posted by steveh at October 2, 2006 02:01 AM | TrackBackAny Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance?
"Cheddar" salespeople smile
Mainly to sell more cheeses
Much like a crocodile
Weaps to show it pleases.
Beware the prepythonic dance
That enters victims into a trance,
Luring the unwary in that euphorium,
To "The National Cheese Emporium."
Turn back and quickly run away!
Have your snack another day!
The truth of this fable sadly is
All they sell is Kraft Cheez Whiz.
You were recharging your vibrator between songs? You randy devil!
intellectually, i'm impressed with your cheez whiz rhyme... but culinarily, i'm worried your mind even thought of kraft cheez whiz after reading "cheese"
Posted by: gb at October 2, 2006 10:01 PMUB: actually, it's a musical term short for vibraphone. i brought my sister's vibe to the dance. it's always a chick magnet.
Posted by: gb at October 2, 2006 10:04 PMI always thought vibrators were chick magnets. Hence my error. Did you play "Finlandia"? Also a chicly magnetic.
Posted by: Underblog at October 3, 2006 10:49 AM