While I am a fan of the growing acceptance of differences that weave the beautiful quilt we call our society, there is one difference that I’ll never accept. And that is the misguided and ungodly opinion that ranch is an acceptable substitute for blue cheese. There is no way I can be totally sure of every man I’ve ever fought over this fact, as it often causes me to black out with rage. But I’ll try my best to recall every time I fought a man who disagreed with me about blue cheese.
Tampa, FL, December 2019
A friend told me the blue cheese in my fridge had passed its expiration date. He even tried to throw it out. I was outraged! Everyone knows blue cheese can’t go bad. It can only become bluer cheese. I remember whispering, “I think you’re about to go bad.” That’s when I made that bozo black and bluer than he’d ever been. By hitting him.
Daytona Beach, FL, March 2020
I was at a Hooters with a dear family member when they suggested we get both ranch and blue cheese with our signature Daytona Beach wings. Who did this guy think he was? The kind of jerk that stocks a hotel room with half-decaf and half-regular coffee packets? Anyway, there was only one way to solve it. I gave him my own order of 50/50. That’s 50% right hook followed by 50% left hook! Meaning, I hit him.
Jacksonville, FL, September 2021
This time a waiter brought me a blue cheese dip but it had no chunks in it. I could barely believe my eyes. It was like an open-casket funeral. The blue cheese was sitting right there in the ramekin, but it had no chunky soul inside. As I wept, I swung violently through the air. Until I hit him.
Gainesville, FL, June 2022
I saw a man across a restaurant dip his pizza in ranch. I remember thinking, if he has that much disrespect for pizza, what else is he willing to disrespect? With that kind of judgment, I figured he was a fugitive from the law so I served up some street justice and showed him where he could dip his pizza. And by that, I mean I hit him.
Tallahassee, FL, February 2023
A man in a grocery store told me they make ranch-flavored ice cream now. I could interpret it as nothing other than a threat. So I hit him.