When High-Clip recently competed in the annual climbing competition 24 hours of Horseshoe Hell at Horseshoe Canyon Ranch in Jasper, Arkansas, we did our best to support her efforts. Our friend (Katie), and I (Carrot) drove up to Horseshoe Canyon Ranch to surprise, motivate, and encourage The High-Clip through to the end. Horseshoe Canyon Ranch is big, and we didn’t find her until the 23rd hour. Despite the deferment of our surprise visit, we still came through! It was wild seeing our friend struggle to walk let alone climb during that last hour but climb she did. By the time it was over, High-Clip was covered in blood and dirt. Shew was delirious and clearly/rightfully proud of pulling off a feat that is reserved for just a handful of maniacs.
But this story isn’t about High-Clip, this story is about cheese. Cheese, pubic hair, and a friend named Stinky.
As Katie and I had given up on finding High-Clip for the night, we settled into our camp in order to feast on a dinner fit for royalty! We had Ramen, Rice Cakes, Pretzel Rods, and Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909). Now I’m not sure if you’ve ever had Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909), but it is delicious. It’s essentially the type of cheese sauce you would expect to find at a sporting event when you order nachos. Not exactly gourmet, but the Rico family is entitled to a little poetic liberty in their description, after all they have been in business and family owned since 1909.
Katie, and I were gorging after a long journey and hours of hiking in search for High-Clip. And once we tore into the Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909) a flurry of memories came rushing back. Well, not exactly a flurry of memories, more like one particular memory. A vivid memory of the last time I had enjoyed Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909).
While working on my undergrad degree I shared a house with two friends. We were kind of grimy, punky, quasi-intellectuals who bonded over a taste for pizza and hot sauce. One of my housemates had an outside group of friends who would often volunteer to help us clean the house and supply us with food. One particular donation came in the form of the largest tub of Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909) that you could imagine. To give you an idea of how enormous this tub of Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909) was, just imagine a large bucket of paint. We couldn’t fit it into any of our cupboards. So, there it sat, on the counter, for months. Whenever we had snackies like chips or pretzels, we’d have a delightful cheddar dipping sauce to complement our salty treats.
Weeks had gone by, and we had nay put a dent into the viscid glowing orange food like substance that was Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909). That’s about when we invited our homeless gutter punk friend Stinky to stay with us during the winter months.
Stinky was a foul-smelling man who always lived up to his nickname. He was a gentleman and a loyal friend aside from a few lapses in character every once in a while. One such character lapse came just around the turn of the new year. Stinky was quick to judge others and started causing trouble with some of our neighbors, so he was asked to leave.
Stinky apologized and let himself out. We watched through the window on that freezing cold winter night as Stinky walked to the driver side door of my roommate’s car in order to urinate all over the door handle. We gave stinky some space the next day so that he may procure his belongings in peace. By the time we returned home Stinky was gone. Gone, but not forgotten.
Stinky would make sure of that.
Among the treasures we discovered after Stinky’s departure were a few dead goldfish somehow attached to the wall, an old pair of socks, and a bar of soap covered in human hair that was selectively hidden in a cupboard among the drinking glasses. Many of our groceries and sundries were also missing including a large tub of Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909).
Aside from the dead goldfish and the disgusting imagery of a bar of soap covered in human hair, Stinky hadn’t done any irreversible damage.
Months passed, and as the weather started warming a foul smell started emanating from the shoe closet. At a glance, there was nothing to be detected, perhaps it was just the natural odor of a closet filled with shoes. As time passed, we realized there was something far fouler than the stench of foot springing from that closet. Something died, and we had to go in.
We opened the closet door, holding our noses we began pulling out shoes one by one. By the time we made it to the back of the closet there was nothing but confusion. No dead animals, no dead bugs, but the stench of death was still in the air. Still in the closet. We decided to check the top shelf. Hidden among the strewn array of winter hats and gloves, deep in the dark recess of the corner was an ungodly size tub of Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909) hidden by our friend Stinky months earlier.
We uncapped this wicked portal to Satan’s asshole and sitting on top of this cheese like substance was blinding pile of pubes.
Stinky was no ordinary man, he was HUGE, 6’5” and nearly 3 bills, and hairy like a yeti. The amount of hair surrounding this man’s pelvic girdle would be enough to put Samson in tears.
When we opened that cheese sauce it was like an ungroomed chia pet that you could only find in the sketchiest corner of the dark web. It was like someone took a weedwhacker to the Savanna, and piled all the grass into a sulfur mud swamp. With the number of pubes popping out of that bucket, Stinky must have shaved everything from belly to butthole.1
Making visual contact with Stinky’s taint-hair swimming in cheese sauce was the vivid memory recollected at camp that night while Katie and I were enjoying a few pretzel rods dipped into Ricos Gourmet Nacho Cheddar Cheese Sauce (family owned since 1909).
- The following semester I was off to Grad School, but my roommates got an apartment together. The following winter they welcomed back our loyal friend and foul smelling friend, Stinky!