
Oh smoked Gouda...
Look at you, you dirty little whore. I notice the way you hang out in the grocery store, all wrapped tight and individually priced by pound. That way I have to pick you up, just to see how much a night with you would cost. You tasty tasty cheese. You say.. slice me up, eat me plain, pair me with crackers, eat me with the wax skin. You know I have. Why must you tempt me so?

Oh hey baby. What's your name? Brie? That's a nice name. I know a lot of bries. Creamy brie, pesto brie, french brie, sun dried tomato brie... oh I've known a brie or two indeed. You're soft to the touch and you know it. You hang out separate from the other cheeses. You say, "I'm a top dolla ho and if you pair me with wine, you gettin laid baby." And I say, come to me brie, it can be just you and me and some Ritz up in this bitch. Oh is Ritz not good enough for you? I got some english water crackers, if that floats your diary boat. Never forget.. you only taste good when you're on my tongue. Oh yeah.