Cheez whiz.

15 Jul

I was in Hy-Vee gathering necessities for a successful College World Series tailgate (wine, frozen fruit, straws, cups) recently. In an effort to save myself from wandering aimlessly throughout the many aisles searching for the items I needed, I looked up above the shelves and read the overhead titles. That’s when I saw this sign for aisle 12:

CUPS

BAGS

PAPER PLATES

VELVEETA

One of these things is not like the others.

Velveeta. What the hell is it? It’s unnerving. I remember the first time I discovered that Velveeta needn’t be refrigerated. I was walking through the grocery store one day near the bakery, when I turned the corner to see a giant pyramid made entirely out of blocks of Velveeta.

“….why isn’t this being refrigerated?” I asked my mother.

“Velveeta doesn’t need to be refrigerated,” she replied nonchalantly.

“But it’s—–” that’s when I realized. It’s not cheese. If it isn’t cheese, then what the hell is it? Basically Elmer’s school glue, silicon, and orange food coloring molded into block-formation. You can probably get cancer just from being near it. I understand why it was placed in the category it was placed in at the store. It doesn’t belong with the cheddar, mozzarella, colby jack and parmesan, but with the plastic, rubber, and paper. Cups, bags, paper plates, Velveeta. It all makes sense.

….but damn it tastes good in cheese dip.

Yesterday I was perusing Facebook in my spare time (what little of it I have these days), and I came across a random girl’s profile and scanned her information:

Interests: I like donating blood.

That’s it. And by that’s “it,” I mean that’s “really weird.” Soccer? Movies? Reading? Jazzercising? Letting glue dry on your fingertips and peeling it off? All very normal and socially acceptable activities. Enjoying donating blood? Insane. Nobody enjoys giving blood. It’s time consuming, the needle hurts, and you get dizzy and sometimes pass out from it. It’s an undisputedly and widely agreed upon unpleasant activity. Even if you truly DO enjoy donating blood, keep it to yourself. Avoid ridicule. Appear to not wish you were a vampire instead of a human being. At least pretend.

People.

WELL, time to roll on out. Until next time, hasta luego, amigos.

——-

“What’s a dirty monkey?”

“….eet is some-sing good.”

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