Boycotting Concerts and Music Festivals

I am a fan of the finer cheeses from around our fair country, and yes, even Canada and Mexico. I will pay quite the premium to partake of these delectable dairy products.

Many a night, I will sit in my La-Z-Boy recliner with my faithful canine Hector by my side. As we watch Vanna spin the letters to reveal the secret word or phrase, I will nibble, as if a field mouse, on a fine smoked cheddar from Badger country, or its surrounding areas. On particularly daring evenings, I will follow that up with some "cheese" from south of the border, or, as they so quaintly call it, "queso."

As you can see, this endeavor not only overwhelms my palate, but also expands my mind. Remember kids, knowledge is power.

I think that those of you with your wits about you will agree, this hobby is certainly worthy of my my hard earned coin.

 

While I would certainly love to oblige, I'm afraid poor Hector has tripped on a poorly placed stack of Cheese Fondue Weekly magazines that I have been collecting since the early 1970s. He appears to have been hobbled.

My carpentry skills are, alas, somewhat lacking and I have been unable to fashion a shelf for the proper placement of those aforementioned periodicals. This will, no doubt, certainly hasten that project.

So, without so much as a ponder, you can very well imagine we are having quite a turbulent morning here in this quaint apartment we call home.

Mother will be here forthwith to drive us to the veterinary clinic. Perhaps, if all goes well with my currently crippled pooch, I will be able to share more with all of you about my passion for all things fromage.

Until then, godspeed and fare-thee-well!