Cheese, Glorious Cheese
As I’ve stated many times over, I am a man of extreme empathy. As I have no
serious personal problems other than my numerous run-ins with the law and my on
again, off again bouts with venereal disease, it is easy for me to appeal to
the masses. When I was approached about writing a book to champion the cause of
mental retardation, I leapt at the chance. After all, who would be better to
chronicle a life filled with obstacles better than a man with little to no
trouble in his unbelievably decadent and shallow life? I submit that no one
would be. It’s like always
said to me, "Wolinetz, you show me a gay man from Guatemala and I’ll show
you a tropical fruit." I do not mean to insult
Paul Lynde is a dear friend of
mine. In the late 1970s, we’d spend hours out by his Beverly Hills pool,
ingesting Quaaludes and pitching pennies.
Paul Lynde could pitch a mean
penny but he was a gentleman about it. In those days of the late 1970s,
Paul Lynde and I would put on
our paisley jackets and giggle at the hookers on Hollywood Blvd. Well, he would
giggle. I would have sex with them. We’d hit the set of Hollywood Squares and take turns kicking
Peter Marshall in the nuts. I
I spent some time in Kentucky researching the atmosphere and the inbreds. I wove a delightful little tale of a mentally retarded woman. Inventor, lover, Senator, she made her way through life with a innocent innocence. As you may or may not know, this was adapted into a movie starring Cuba Gooding, Jr. called "Snow Dogs." I removed my name from the project after a lengthy battle with Cuba as to who would get to scream, "SHOW ME THE MONEY!!" each morning. An excerpt from Cheese of Kentucky:
"Mama said it wasn’t possible but I just chewed the gum, didn’t matter
none to me if it floated or not. But when Mama told me to spit my gum out at
the dinner table, I did it. And when it just hung there in the air, over the
table, Mama let out a scream that coulda woke the dead. I thought she’s gonna
right pass out. So, I took the gum out the air and put it in the garbage can.
When I come back to the dinner table, Mama had that look on her face. The one
she always got when I told her about the walrus that lived in my closet. He has
‘Chile, now don’t joke with yo’ mama. How’d you go and do that?’
‘I told you mama, it just floats. I put summa them soap bubbles you gave me in with the chewing gum.’
‘You ain’t messin’ with me, Sue Ann Betty Sue Turner-McCoy?’
‘Nome.’ And I wasn’t. I thought it’d be right hilarious to have my gum float like it did. So I mixed them bubbles in there and then it happened. The gum jus’ hung there, like it were on a string or somethin’
Mama just put some dinner on my plate and didn’t say a word. I jus’ ate quietly. Collard greens was my favorite and even though we was dirt po’, Mama always managed to serve some almost every night. I looked up at Mama. She was eatin’ real quiet, mosly jus’ pickin’ at her food.
‘Mama, ain’t you hungry?’ I asked her. I sure was hungry. I was so hungry I could eat the table too.
‘No, chile. Not so hungry tonight.’ I looked at Mama’s face and I could tell. She wanted to go check the closet for walruses. I didn’t blame her. The dang walrus eats more’n he’s worth…"