“To be a woman who loves hip-hop at times is to be in love with your abuser.”

PR is pricey as hell and for good reason. Don’t make me think of porn when I’m eating my chicken Milanese, Pornhub.

Realizing that the party is not going to officially start. This group off people standing around and slurping out of red cups and grinding chips into the rug is it. That’s the entire party.

I still like parties, but either the food or the company needs to be decidedly above the “shitty” bar.

St Augur blue is amazing on an oat cake with truffle honey. Cheese has given me more reliable pleasure than a dick ever has.

You wanna talk about cheese? Let’s talk about cheese.

#AllCheeseMatters

For some actual Parmigiano-Reggiano porn, I suggest checking out episode 1 of Netflix’s Chef’s Table.

It hurts sometimes to admit this, but once upon a time, I lived in a group home for children who were victims of long-term abuse. It’s hard for people who have never had their humanity so thoroughly reduced, but just having a few moments of being treated like a real human-being can give a person a sense of dignity…

Or let's stop acting like you have to mourn just because you took a pregnancy test. If you have a late period and don't take a test, you don't mourn. Do people just every let things come and go anymore?

Shout out for use of “male.”

One day, I hope someone invents a device that rich men could use when they want to have sex with random women but don’t want all the risks of getting them pregnant and having to pay child support.

This is how I totes mah goats.

I lost my burner key a couple of days ago, but it was kind of worth it to snag this new name.

The Good Wife. I thought it kinda petered out pretty quickly, but even if you only watch a couple of seasons, the cast is incredible.

I wasn’t, but I can instantly tell that I wish I had been. Also, your screen-name is delightful and extremely apt for a discussion of cheesy wonders. Tell me more about Cheese Camp, friend.

I’ll say this: I love cheese. I love it. I love everything from skunk-fart reblochon to nutty Cornish Yarg. I make cheese. I know cheese. I am cheese.

Those cheese singles are dangerous, folks.

Is it an unpopular opinion to suggest that actual cheese lovers have nothing to worry about?