BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

…but then, we already knew that, I suppose.

I reached this conclusion just moments ago… Well, bearing the statement above in mind I suppose I was merely REMINDED of the conclusion moments ago. You see, she made a comment that could only be uttered by an alien. That comment, I will relate to you below:

“No thanks, I’ve never been really big on cheese balls.”

Okay, all you filthy minded little monkeys need to jump on the ladder and climb right on up out of the gutter. We were NOT in the bedroom when she said this, we were in the kitchen. We were both fully clothed, and no propositions had been made other than I had offered her some leftovers from the Yule party this past weekend. We were NOT talking about anyone’s anatomy… We were talking about food.

Cheese balls have been around forever… They are a staple of all known party foods. In fact, some of today’s party foods have been spawned by the omnipresent and traditional cheese ball… But, that’s a totally different blog…

If you are invited to a party, even at the last minute, and need to bring something, you can always find a cheese ball at the store. Or at the very least, with almost no skill whatsoever, you can toss one together in nothing flat. I mean, even if you don’t have time to spend on an elaborate cheese ball (softening and blending the cheeses, adding spices and herbs, and all that jazz), a simple block of cream cheese, a couple of bags of shredded milk curd of your favorite flavor, a packet of dry veggie soup mix and voila! Cheese ball. Not only a respectable cheese ball, but to borrow a phrase from Alton Brown and twist it to my own convoluted use – damn good eats. Now, if you happen to have an extra thirty seconds you can even dress it up a bit. Wrap it in some Buddig ™ ham, or roll it in some crushed nuts. Voila! Now you have a semi-fancy cheese ball…really damn good eats.

Now, if you are blessed with both time and talent, go for the superbly fancy cheese ball (I will refrain from giving you a recipe here because that’s not really what this blog is about) and hey, you get orgasmically good eats.

So… Fancy, semi-fancy, or just plain, the cheese ball is easily had. And, if you don’t want to make it, you can probably get one at the local supermarket at almost any time of the year. But, at this time of the year, if you can’t find one, you aren’t looking. There is, to say the least, a veritable glut of the softened, rolled, curd confection in supermarkets during the holidays. After all, it’s the party season, plus all you need to do is consider the source – way back when, cheese, grain, and root veggies were pretty much what you had to live on when Winter solstice rolled around. They were food items that would keep, and could be stored away for the cold months when you didn’t have fresh stuff growing in the field… But, again, that is another blog…

Now, let us look at the versatility of our beloved cheese ball.

1) You can always take them to parties and they are an instant crowd pleaser – except where aliens are concerned, of which we have established my wife is one. Being an evil redheaded alien, I suspect she is probably their leader…

2) Leftover cheese ball makes a great snack on the leftover crackers the day after the party when you are too hung over to even think about cooking, and all you want to do is toss something down to quell the hunger. HINT: At this point, in order to keep from messing up the house any more than it already is, the leftover cheese ball on cracker should be consumed over the sink.

3) Leftover cheese ball works well as a sandwich spread to liven up that bologna or pressed ham/pickle loaf lunch meat you are taking to work with you between two slices of leftover bread from the party.

4) If folks show up unexpectedly, leftover cheese ball and crackers makes for a quick impromptu party snack. HINT: 10 seconds in the microwave and you can roll it back into a ball so it looks like new and they think you prepared it just for them alone. Simply pop it back in the fridge for a few minutes before serving.

5) Leftover cheese ball will last almost indefinitely. If you get a bit tired of it after the party, just put it in a Ziploc™ or Tupperware™ container, and stick it in the fridge. A few months later when you are looking for a midnight snack, dig it out and slap it on some Triscuits™ or Saltines™. HINT: If it is fuzzy, simply scrape off the moldy portion, discard it, and enjoy what is left. If the mold is blue, then don’t discard – it simply means you’ve got yourself a bleu cheese ball. (This is NOT to be confused with Blue Balls… As I said, climb on up out of the gutter…)

6) If you have run out of room in the fridge, then suck all the air out of the Ziploc™ (they have special ones with little vacuum pumps for that now to make it even easier) and toss it in the freezer. It will survive in there as long as, if not longer than, fruitcake.

7) If it is a port wine cheese ball, and you are out of booze, no worries. The wine is already in the cheese.

7A) If you are going to a wine and cheese party, by taking a port wine cheese ball you have covered all your bases, effectively killing both of the proverbial birds with a single cheese ball.

8) Leftover cheese ball – and even leftover cheese balls, as in many of them – along with a bit of milk and chicken or vegetable stock can be quickly and easily turned into cheese soup for a lovely first course.

9) If you are feeling really ambitious and are looking to impress folks, leftover cheese ball and a shot of brandy will render you a perfectly respectable fondue.

And, lastly…

10) A frozen cheese ball in a tube sock makes a great impromptu weapon if you have a household intruder. Then, merely pop it in the microwave for a few seconds, and you have a lovely snack to serve the cops who respond to the 911 call.

These are but 10 of the possibilities for the ever versatile cheese ball. I could go on and on, but the reality is, your own imagination is the only limiting factor. Cheese balls are one of the single greatest inventions of mankind, and most assuredly one of the most perfect foodstuffs…

So, anyone who doesn’t like them must be an alien, just like my wife…

More to come…

Murv

Okay, I admit it. I read Reuters Oddly Enough news… Actually, it’s not so much news as it is a mini blog that takes somewhat odd news stories and showcases them… Or, relatively normal stories and puts an odd spin on them… Whatever seems to work at the time, I suppose. Especially if it’s a slow news day. (You know, things just aren’t the same as they were back when I was studying Journalism, but that’s another story entirely…)

So, anyway, back to the lecherous, filthy elf… One of the “Oddly Enough” features on 12/10 was a list of links to odd holiday tales. As with many blogs, comments are allowed and beneath this one there were three, two of which lamented the fact that when they were kids, Christmas was about the Church and not Santa…

Well, I could wax prophetic all about how they are a bit misguided since Christmas is actually a hijacked holiday known as Yule, and that it really occurs on the Winter Solstice. That, and the fact that there is overwhelming evidence that Jesus – divinely conceived child of “God” or not, doesn’t really matter – wasn’t born on December 25th, and in fact wasn’t born anywhere near December at all. But, once again, all that goes to a different blog, which quite honestly has been beaten to death and there is no real reason for me to go into it other than the illustration above.

Now, I will concede that there was a valid point to the comments – that being the whole Santa thing. I mean, when you look at it historically – and worldwide for that matter – this whole Santa Claus legend/myth has several different avenues, turns, detours, and bizarre stories it takes – up to and including sidekicks such as “Black Pete” (I’ll have to tell you the story about my own personal confusion on the Black Pete mythos sometime… Let’s just say I had it correct all except for the name… Seems that in my twisted brain he became Black Bob, but again, another story for another time…)

Anywho, we are all pretty much aware – and if you aren’t you are about to get educated – that the present “American” incarnation of Santa Claus is the product of marketing by a soft drink company. Yeah, no kidding. Look it up.

But, as usual, I have digressed a bit.

You see, the thing that really got me about the comments on the Oddly Enough blog was that one of them referred to Santa Claus as, and I quote, “…an all-knowing, omnipresent, pedophiliac old man…”

Well, all knowing, yeah, I guess I can give you that. Omnipresent, well yeah, that too. I mean, according to the myth the fat bastard DOES manage to get around the entire globe in a single 24 hour period, all while making countless stops.

However… pedophiliac? Never mind the fact that we have a noun-adjective-noun combination there that just drives me insane (i.e. grammatically it should be pedophilic old man)… But, like I said, let’s ignore the creation of a new part of speech here, that being the nounective… or adjenoun… and just focus on what this person is attempting to say.

This “commentator” just called Santa Claus a child molester…

Now, I am not sure about the rest of you but there was no time in my life, as a child or as an adult, when I ever heard of Santa Claus molesting a kid. I never heard a single story about the Jolly Old Elf having any such interest in children. Hell, I never heard a single story about Santa even having an interest in his wife, much less kids.

Sure, now that I am an adult I have seen the “adult” cartoons that run about the net, featuring Santa mooning you, or getting laid, or what have you… But, not with kids, and I definitely didn’t see this stuff until I was an adult.

Sooooo… If the commentator above grew up believing that Santa Claus is a Pedophile, then you have to wonder what this person’s parents were telling her…Or, dare I say it? What happened to her as a child… It boggles the mind. Well, it boggles MY mind…

You know… Having read that particular comment actually made me a bit angry… You see, my Grandfather, Elvis Babb, used to play Santa at the local store back in the small town of Fulton, KY where I am from, and he was a hell of a guy. A hell of a Santa too.

For someone to say Santa is a Pedophile sullies the reputation of Santa’s everywhere, including the memory of my Grandfather… Shame on her.

More to come…

Murv

As always, while this blog is certainly an opinion piece, it is written tongue in cheek and intended to entertain.