He who loves not a cheese castle, does the very species dismantle, for in its soft and cheesy core I do detect an ounce or more of patience there undertaken and rightly there for our taking,
though there are those who indulge in burgers finely wrought, nevertheless, I say, here behold a burger that's the best--It's of cheese, scarcely beef, and fried onions between said bread, and those in them that deny the chance can reckon themselves half-bred, for here there is what there there ain't--a treasure to behold--a bunch of tastes, there for the tasting, which none have really told.
You who scoff and you who scorn are who I'm writing to. It's you who cause snobbishness and who ruin dinner too. If you could see your silly ways, bemoaning the world you see, you'd see that you were part of it and happy then to see. But no, but no, you fiddle 'round with lots of fancy eats. And then you write a lot on them, but just to give yourself treats. Really, though, it don't work that way since we can see right through. The time you spend on your discourse is time that's robbed from you.
So fuck this entire silly game of trying to decide whether this or that is better than the old milk cow's backside. Be free, be free, and eat those things to which you most aspire. For in them you are sure to find an end to your desire.
To quote Blake:
He who binds to himself a joy
does the winged life destroy,
but he who kisses the joy as it flies
lives in eternity's sunrise.