You have to imagine me opening the box from our Italian vendor, and being assaulted by the smell of dirty feet and thinking, "What. The. Fuck?" Then gingerly peeling back the paper to find this:
The Coke can is there for scale.
Yes.
That's a giant block of Parmesan cheese, which was cut that morning and delivered to my office in all of its stinky glory. It weighed about 10 pounds, no lie.
How do you like them apples?
2 comments:
Oh, man, that is pornographic.
Yet a little dispiriting to be faced with that giant block of cheese each time I open the refrigerator.
I still have a couple of pounds left after hacking it up into good-sized chunks for everyone in my department.
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