The cocky little fucker walking about the school with his hand filled with ‘cheestring’. The angry teacher wishing to know more about this child’s cheesy comestible…

’What’s that?’ the angry teacher fumes, pointing at the yellow bendy lump of gittery in the infants callous hand. Both he and the boy look down ‘pon the item in question.

‘Well…’ says the boy, an expression of assured knowingness, before we’re hit with a baffling five scene montage. Sped up footage of green, green grass growing out of the soil under an azure blue sky. A cow’s gob munching on said grass, milk spunking into a bucket. A factory with huge cubes of cheese passing on a conveyor, then suddenly a packet of cheestrings materialises.

Sorry? What was the bit between the cow’s milk and these massive lumps of symmetrical cheese and now this miniscule bundle of cheesy hair? Some devilry has taken place – alchemy – and the first three aspects of the montage are supposed to justify the last? I beg to differ.

Like the witch employing subterfuge in order to carry out maleficia, nature has been exchanged for a packet of… well. What? What the fuck is it? It would seem that it is made from ‘100% cheese’ but something had been done to it make its texture akin to muscle sinew. Something unholy, something evil…

The advertisers are trying to present cheese as healthy and natural. Whilst delicious cheese is a processed and unhealthy foodstuff, it’s a lump of fucking fat. In this form it has been reprocessed into something you could stick a wick in and set fire to.

After being blasted in the face with this ludicrous short we return to the cheeky young cunt in front of the scowling teacher.

‘Cheese’ the little bastard says, like he’s just got one over on the ‘The Man’, like he’s stuck it to ‘The Man’ by eating some fucking cheese and he saunters off looking all smug and suchlike.

Since when has any act of teenage rebellion involved cheese? Waving a knife about, trespassing and killing a dog are all bona fide run-of-the-mill acts of rebellious expression in the young. I accept that. But eating fucked-up cheese in the corridor at break time?

I have every sympathy for the teacher. Way before he’d a chance to get a word in I’d have run up soundlessly to the little tyke, landed a flying kick to his neck and, when down, pounded the living shit out of him before saying ‘what’s that? what’s that?’ ad infinatum, referring to the bit of yellow protruding out of his broken fingers. The advert would end with a cow being slaughtered by naked Viet Cong and topped off with a single shot of a man’s hat.

Let’s face it; it has more of bearing on reality than the fuck presented by these, erm, fucks.

Next week, The Renault Clio, an external sign of inner paedophilia.

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31 Responses to “cheestrings”

  1. Swineshead Says:

    Cheestrings are cool. Cheesy string lumps. Fun! Don’t you understand the concept?

  2. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Remember Viz’s Story of St. Ivel? Where he wanted to make his cheese slightly unpleasent to eat, so there would be enough to go around at the orphans’ annual picnic? At first, as the tale went, he tried wiping his arse on the cheese, but this didn’t work. Then he noticed his goats eating bark off rubber trees, and made cheese from their milk. The cheese turned out to be edible, yet slightly off-putting and rubbery.

    I think this is the process they’ve left out of the advert.

  3. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Swineshead is correct. Cheestrings are fun.

  4. Swineshead Says:

    They’re great fun. I like peeling food before I eat it. Unless it’s an orange or something revolting like that.

  5. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I enjoy peeling the paper off the side of a packet of Bird’s Eye frozen Southern Fried Chicken. Indeed, I’m going to do that very thing RIGHT NOW.

  6. piqued Says:

    Has anyone actually ever eaten one?

    I’m being dealy serious, deadlee

  7. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I’ve eaten one, and to be honest they’re not like any cheese I’ve ever had. They’re allegedly cheddar, yet try peeling strips off a block of Cathedral City and see how far you get. The fun’s more in the peeling – the cheese itself should be thrown away.

  8. Swineshead Says:

    I have tried one or two. They’re pretty disgusting. Like stringy edam, or plastic red leicester. Or like that orange cheddar you allegedly get (but never see in the shop)

  9. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Children like them. Mind you, children like Nutella spread on sausages, so they’re not the best judge of these things.

    As for my previous orange cheddar comments? Well, as a good egg whose new purpose in life is to spread a Ronald McDonald forcefield of wellbeing around all the creatures of the earth, I absolve myself of all blame when it comes to being either wrong or right. I’m too busy, quite frankly, being Tim Robbins to worry about ephemera such as the colour of cheddar.

  10. Clarry Says:

    Cheestrings along with marshmallow fluff are illegal in my opinion. What nutritional value can these foodstuffs possibly have?

  11. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I think it’s more in the fun value with Cheestrings, Clarry. I don’t think, if you’re a parent feeding your kids Cheestrings, you’ve got the best interests of their nutrional health at heart. I suppose you could balance the damage done by Cheestrings by feeding them a healthy meal of Bernard Matthews Chicken Kievs, chips and frozen peas for their tea.

  12. piqued Says:

    But the reality is that eating too much cheese turns a person into a wobbling lumbering flabby flops with stinking hands.

    That ‘kids love Dairylea’ shit is just as bad… In truth it should simply say ‘kids love wobbling lumbering flabby flops. Now with stinking hands’

  13. piqued Says:

    Nowt wrong with frozen peas NC

  14. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I used to love squirting Dairylea out of those triangle shapes. It reminded me of diarrhoea, which I found funny at the time. I don ‘t recall it being very pleasant to eat, mind.

  15. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Sorry, I meant tinned peas.

  16. Swineshead Says:

    Yes – marrowfat tinned peas, they’re the best.
    And frozen southern fries – ordinary chips just don’t cut it any more.

  17. piqued Says:

    It wasn’t, took fucking ages to get that foil off too.

    On one occasion I bit down on some just after I’d had a filling, I was awfully upset. I cried myself to sleep on Nurse

  18. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Frozen southern fries are great. I can longer see the point of ordinary chips.

  19. piqued Says:

    Tinned, frozen, plucked out of dentures sat in a puddle of regurgitated meat, they’re always good peas

  20. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Tinned vegetables are the healthiest option for busy mothers. My better half and I have yet to be blessed with a child, but when we are I will feed it on nothing but frozen food and tinned vegetable. As God is my witness, no fresh food will pass that child’s lips while it’s under my roof.

  21. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Half three, eh?

  22. Clarry Says:

    Don’t forget the Fluff NC. That’s the best. Gooey marshmellow stuff in a jar for spreading on children’s toast in the morning. The cornerstone of every nutritious breakfast. That or the ready made peanut butter and jam combo. Why not just give you children a few cubes of sugar to suck in the morning? Mmm, they make Nutella seem really good for you.

  23. Clarry Says:

    I was thinking that. He lied to you didn’t he?

  24. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    According to the Bible, Clarry, liars are on a par with adulterers, userers, and sodomites. If he doesn’t change his ways, Swineshead can look forward to an eternity in the agonising fires of Hell.

    Marshmallow fluff is good for kids. As is treacle.

  25. Clarry Says:

    At least treacle tastes horrible, thus preventing them stuffing their little faces with it.

  26. piqued Says:

    I like treacle and marshmallow fluff, and being sick in bins

  27. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I used to be able to eat so much treacle I was violently sick. This was a good thing, as it cleared the runway for more treacle.

  28. piqued Says:

    were you sick in bins though NC?

  29. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Possibly. I’ll not deny I’ve thrown up into a few bins in my time. Wether treacle was the cause, I’m now not sure.

  30. Swineshead Says:

    Oh fuck.
    Sorry – will sort Easties now.

  31. piqued Says:


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