I am reliably informed (by the respected authority of the Daily Hate, no less) that cheese is the most shoplifted item of 2011. How much of this lies at the feet of Anthony Worrall-Thompson, filmed stealing cheese from his local Tesco on five occasions in the last fortnight, they did not say.
It's not suprising to me, though, that contraband cheese is in such high demand. I don't believe that the gods would have supped on something as sickly and sugared as ambrosia when they could have been tripping out on casomorphin.
It's not surprising to me, either, that the addictive properties of cheese rival that of nicotine and morphine. Apparently it also makes you want to eat other things too. Cheese and bread. Cheesy pasta. Cheesy mashed potato. Cheese and onion pasty. The cheese-carb combo can take many forms, all of them rather wonderful.
I can't eat any of these things now. Actually I can't eat anything at all for a while. Since I have a lifetime's-worth of cheesy-carb abuse stacked about my body, this shouldn't present too much of a problem energy-wise. It fits very well with my 2012 reinvention - I'm going to be amazing.
And in the meantime, I'm going to be cultivating a taste for consomme.
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