In my 20s I’d put (ahem, real) bagels under the broiler, toast, top with Limburger (sometimes Camembert) and broil until the cheese melted. This was but part of a larger at-home soiree…
On the console stereo were two bottles of Beaujolais wine. From the console stereo came the sweet strains of free eight track tapes acquired as first issues of eight track of the month clubs (Cancel within thirty days with no obligation. The first tape is yours to keep free as our thanks.) In my brain were various miracle molecules. Uppers seemed more innocent then, pot more shady. It was a sensory delight. It made cleaning my apar less of a chore and more of a head rush.
An older woman would slink by on occasion. I vaguely remember her name as Lazz or Badazz or something like that. She always brought the Lemon Pledge ;)
LimBurlGer…
It doesn’t take a P to spell Limburger but it does take a U!
In my 20s I’d put (ahem, real) bagels under the broiler, toast, top with Limburger (sometimes Camembert) and broil until the cheese melted. This was but part of a larger at-home soiree…
On the console stereo were two bottles of Beaujolais wine. From the console stereo came the sweet strains of free eight track tapes acquired as first issues of eight track of the month clubs (Cancel within thirty days with no obligation. The first tape is yours to keep free as our thanks.) In my brain were various miracle molecules. Uppers seemed more innocent then, pot more shady. It was a sensory delight. It made cleaning my apar less of a chore and more of a head rush.
An older woman would slink by on occasion. I vaguely remember her name as Lazz or Badazz or something like that. She always brought the Lemon Pledge ;)
LimBurlGer…It doesn’t take a P to spell Limburger but it does take a U!