Column by Jim Bishop
[email protected]
“Cheese it, the cops!”
Now, where did that phrase originate? Did a bunch of dudes get caught while breaking into the refrigerated section of a super market?
Fortunately – I guess – a quick Google search provides this cheesy explanation:
“Cheese it!” was a popular expression in the 19th century, usually a warning from one person to another to stop their current activity because a policeman was approaching. The expression was used in English slang by at least the 1810s and quickly came to America” – Barry Popik, The Big Apple (www.barrypopik.com).
At any rate, fromage to you, my first (and likely last) attempt to sit right down and write myself a Cheddar on the subject of cheese. Herman Muenster would be proud . . .
I fell off my bike and broke my Parm.
The bank denied my application for a Provolone.
I Dream of Ciligiene.
To Brie, or not to Brie…that is the question!
We Gouda get outa this place. Better take a side trip and run the next portion of this column in a different Fontal . . .
Did you hear about the new bamboo trees at the zoo? It was pandamonium out there!
Today is a kick back and do nothing day. I’m auditioning for American Idle.
My biologist friend tells me that constantly developing new varieties of plants can be a strain.
I dreamed that I was a muffler on a car and then that I was part of the wheel. I work up exhausted and tired.
What do you call a podium that eats people? Hannibal Lectern.
What do you call four matadors in quicksand?
Quatro sinko.
Have you heard about that online origami store? It folded.
When I first tried the new cough syrup, I had no idea what to expectorate.
I dropped a tub of margarine in the kitchen and ended up with a Parkay floor.
The price of chess pieces was going up so I decided to contact my pawn broker. Speaking of which . . .
King Ozymandias of Assyria was running low on cash after years of war with the Hittites. His last great possession was the Star of the Euphrates, the most valuable diamond in the ancient world. Desperate, he went to Croesus, the pawnbroker, to ask for a loan.
Croesus said, “I’ll give you 100,000 dinars for it.”
“But I paid a million dinars for it,” the King protested. “Don’t you know who I am? I am the king!”
Croesus replied, “When you wish to pawn a Star, makes no difference who you are.”
I knew someone who was a monorail enthusiast. He had a one-track mind. (Hey, don’t get Fraiche with me, mister!).
In Gruyere 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue…
I Feta not have another, I’m driving.
Dad said you have to rake the Yarg.
I Swiss you when you are a whey.
My friend came around for dinner. We ate, then he passed out again. Too many cheeseburgers at one sitting, I suspect.
Ricotta get going, so let’s finish our mac and cheese with this tasteless tale . . .
A patient consulted his medicine man about a pain in his stomach that had persisted for three months.
“For something as long as that,” said the medicine man, “I have a more drastic remedy than the herbs I normally prescribe. Chew on this leather thong every day. It is 31 inches long. Chew one inch every day, and at the next moon come back.”
The patient dutifully did as directed, and at the next moon he returned to the medicine man.
“How do you feel?” the medicine man asked.
“The thong is ended, but the malady lingers on.”
I really Bleu it this time. Halloumi back, y’all!
James V. (Velveeta) Bishop spreads it on thick as public information officer at Eastern Mennonite University. Get sharp with him, if you must, at [email protected].
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