Cheddar or Swiss

Waitress: “…and you can get that with chedddar or swiss.”

Him: “That’s a tough one.”
Her: “Just go with cheddar.”
Him: “Just go with cheddar? Why.”
Her: “Because cheddar is better.”
Him: “What, is that a saying or something?”
Her: “No. But swiss is rank.”
Him: “Swiss is rank?”

Waitress: “Should I just give you two a minute?”

Her: “No, he’ll have cheddar.”
Him: “No, I’ll have swiss.”
Her: “You don’t even LIKE swiss.”
Him: “How do you know what I like.”
Her: “Because we’re married. I know everything about you.”
Him: “Well, apparently not. Because I like swiss. Swiss, please.”

Waitress: “Okay. Thanks.”

Her: “You’re going to regret the swiss.”
Him: “In a minute, I’m going to regret marrying you.”

Don’t Do The Fondue

Seems that people are buying into “the fondue” these days, almost as much as they’re buying into The Secret.

In the last month, everywhere I go, people are asking me if I “do the ‘due” and they’re not talking about soda. They’re talking about a restaurant where, for $125 per person, you are supposed to be extremely excited to (a) cook your own food over a flame, (b) dip poultry, beef and fish into a vat of melted cheese, (c) dip bread on skewers into another hot vat of cheese, (d) dip marshmallows into a third vat of chocolate, and (e) finish up with some cheese. I refuse to be on such a choleste-role

…and you should, too.