Friday, June 15, 2012

#66: Death by Brazilian cheese balls.

Well, world, it's been nice knowing you. I'm on my way to the grave due to Diane's willingness to help out one of our neighbors with her son's wedding reception. How did I meet my untimely demise, you might ask? Not from a collapsed lung (THAT would be ironic), not from the swine flu, not even from getting hit in the head with a solid gold revolver. No, none of those things. It was Brazilian cheese balls. That stink. And I had to help deliver them. TWICE. Once I'm completely gone (I'm still gasping for my last few breaths), please note in my will that I leave my Star Wars toys to Jeff and my video games to Aaron. Hopefully the permeating cheese ball smell will not be entrenched too deeply. Farewell.
Yes, I would rather smell my own B.O.
Silent assassins.
My only question is, "Why couldn't we have made THESE instead?"


  1. Sorry man, but thanks for the video games!

  2. Don't knock the pao de queijo. The only death I could suffer from those is by eatin too many of them... Now I want to go cook some more... Yum yum yum.

    1. Becca, you should have come and had ours! That smell was like a dead skunk in a trash can for a week!