I must confess, I do have a bit of a thing for greek salad, particularly that delicious crumbly cheese, all moist and tangy. It tastes almost as good on the eye as on the tongue.
Pete and I have just lunched, very lightly, on cheese and marinated chillies. It seems so wrong, on a Sunday afternoon, yet at the same time, it feels good.
August 8, 2004
That salty greek perversion
That’ll be FETA cheese then.
Muppet.
It’s not called fetish cheese?
No, dear.
Pete and Karen, ladies and gentlemen!
Fetish cheese sounds a bit worrying itself.
I can’t stand the stuff and always refer to it as fetid cheese.
Oh come on D, the stuff is great. It is the best of cheeses.
Sorry, are we talking about feta cheese or fetish cheese? I’d love to join in the debate, but want to make sure I don’t get off on the wrong foot…
(Note to self: Getting-off-on-the-wrong-foot as subject for future post)
A propos of nothing, I bet Doctor Pockless wears suspenders under his academic gown. And that Badgett, too. Dirty old professors.
My definition of cheese does not include the proviso that it can be pickled in brine.
What I have to love about this current design is that if you’re partway down the page when you hit refresh in an IE browser a large phallic Uborka flashes on the screen for an instant in Fight Club-stylee.
Well if it runs in the family …
I’ll have you know my suspenders are just back from the cleaners and not remotely dirty.
I didnt say he wore a corset, Sevitz!