My Geordie has recently started a campaign to get me to watch 30 Rock, because she says the character that Tina Fey plays is basically me. I’m not sure what to make of this having never watched the programme, but this clip made me laugh.
I am a massive fan of cheese. I honestly believe that should I be posed with the issue of never being able to have cheese again, or never being able to have chocolate, I would have to say a sad goodbye and show chocolate off on its way.
I love cheese.
I don’t care what sort of cheese. I don’t think there is any cheese I won’t eat. I like blue mouldy ones, I like soft ones, I like ones with bits in. I like goats cheese (which my friend claims “tastes goaty”) I like sheep’s cheese. (I don’t like toe cheese. Just sayin). One Christmas my granddad got given a port and Stilton set, and we merrily chomped through all the Stilton, happy in the knowledge that the rest of the family had dubbed us ‘disgusting and smelly’. More for me then!
Actually, I think the any type of cheese thing is a lie. A few years ago my grandfather (again) got hold of some cheese that was so putrid that my grandmother made him put it in the outside fridge. I think it was illegal or something. It was so smelly that it had to be wrapped in vine leaves, and I wasn’t too partial to it, I think it was the fact that it was actually slimy and gave me visions of licking a slug.
Recently the Geordie went to France for a week, and came back with a massive Babybel (one of my favourite types of cheese). I decimated that bad boy in forty-eight hours. And my friends will tell you of the time that I destroyed a whole baked camembert in the pub and then had to go for a lie down to combat the cheese sweats before we went out. I was totally victorious, it was just a power nap!
I also have a worrying habit of making up songs for everything. Hovering? Sure “just hovering about, doing the hovering, busting the dust, lalalala” or getting cross with the rabbit “you’re just a poop machine” (often to the tune of girls aloud, love machine. The rare one that actually has any sort of recognisable tune). Actually when I write this down I start to worry that I might need to seek some sort of mental help…
Anyway, please see clip in question. It made me laugh, anyway.