Squeeze cheese, or mooing in your Big Girl shoes

I love squeeze cheese.

That is a horrible thing to admit, but there you go. And if that's not bad enough, sometimes I take a piece of that plastic cheese in the individual wrapper and fold it into fourths then I take four square crackers (used to be saltines, but now I use Triscuits) and put one quarter piece of plastic cheese on each cracker and eat that mother*. You can maybe nuke it for a few seconds if you want to melt the cheese (I don't, but to each his own).

With the squeeze cheese, you don't need to melt it because it's already gooey. And you get to make the squorrly little designs on account of the slotted tube top on the squeeze cheese can.

On the can it says "Real Kraft Cheese" in excited looking cursive letters. (Although I give them credit for restraining themselves and foregoing an exclamation point!)

To that, I just say no.

No, no, no, no. No.

Okay, I don't mean "no" in the "no" sense. What I mean is that I don't think the stuff in the can has been near anything that says "moo" in a long, long time. So I guess I mean "no moo."

I do not recommend reading the ingredient listing on the back of the can. It's scary. That probably goes for the plastic cheese as well. But if you do read it, you might wonder about the product's proximity to "moo" uttering creatures like I wonder. It does say "milk" on there, but come on already.

Sometimes I wear this cool black velvet top and a corduroy mini skirt and Big Girl shoes and I make the Goat take me out to a snotty place where you get a pot of cheese fondue with bread and steamed veggies and chunks of sausage and that is a real cheese experience that is way closer to "moo" uttering creatures than the plastic and/or canned variety I'm talking about here. I don't mean that there are cows in the snotty restaurant place, but that the stuff in the fondue pot did not come out of a can if you follow my meaning. I never wear mini skirts to barnyards anyway. Or Big Girl Shoes. We usually get a bottle of Chardonnay to go with the fondue.

Moo.

I'm telling you this in hopes that you'll still think I'm sort of cool despite the squeeze cheese admission herein.

I once made the snotty restaurant fondue at home and it kicked ass from Cleveland to Ashtabula (where they still might have a few mooers). But it is expensive to make and sort of a pain in the ass. Also, making the fondue at home eliminates my desire to wear the mini skirt. Who cares? But if you want to try to make that shit, Here's a pretty good recipe.

*Options include adding a small piece of Vlasic Dill Pickle or a dollop of Pace Medium Picante.