rSlash - r/Topposts I Spent $18,000 on Cheese

Episode Date: March 28, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:07 Cheese 5:47 Manipulator 10:57 Body wash Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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You'll find the same regular prices online as in-store. Many promotions are available both in-store and online, though some may vary. Welcome to R-slash-top posts, where OP spends 18,000. on cheese. Am I overreacting because my girlfriend left me over a cheese wheel? I'm a 27-year-old guy, and my girlfriend is 26. We were saving for a house down payment. I work, she's unemployed. I've saved $32,000, and she saved $4,000, so I feel like I bear the brunt of the financial decision-making here. I was doing the Oxford County Cheese Trail and found a vault release. They were selling a 140-pound wheel of 21-year-old cheddar. It was aged using a traditional cloth-bound method that's

practically extinct here in Canada, and with over 21 years, it's extremely concentrated. 21-year-old cheddar often sells for 120 bucks a pound. The farm was selling the entire wheel for $18,500. If I cut that wheel into 200-gram wedges and sell it at $60 each, I can make $38,000. I bought the cheese wheel and brought it home in my truck. When I rolled it into our apartment, at first, my girlfriend was excited. When I started to explain the financials and investment potential, she turned sour. She didn't yell, but expressed she wasn't happy about how I spent my share of our house savings. She's now staying with her parents.

I think she's overreacting because she doesn't understand the Canadian housing market. Our savings aren't enough for a down payment without a ridiculous mortgage. And we need to take these opportunities. Am I overreacting? Or am I the only one with ambition in our relationship? Opie, I got to ask you, this is a really serious question. Do you have a distribution method for getting rid of this cheese for selling it? I mean, yeah, the numbers do work out, but you need buyers.

What are you going to do just sell cheese out of the back of your truck? Hey buddy, you want to buy some $60 cheese? No, dude, I do not. Who are you? And why are you selling cheese out of a truck? Well, O.P. posted an update. Let's see where this goes. For those curious, my girlfriend is no longer in the picture. She cracked due to low risk tolerance. So I've decided to go all in on the business. I initially tried to return the wheel to the distributor to recoup some capital, thinking they'd have some pity. They were actually considering it until they came out to look at it in my truck. Apparently, the minor heat damage I caused to the paraffin wax while trying to open last week compromised the wheel, which was already non-refundable in the first place. So now I'm stuck with a 140-pound, $30,000 asset. So I had to pivot to asset protection and keep what I still have. I went out and bought a bar cooler, a professional digital temperature humidity controller, an industrial humidifier, a vacuum sealer, and ripening mats.

The total cost was $8.5,000 after taxes. Expensive, yes, but I wasn't going to let a $30,000 investment depreciate in value. The delivery was difficult. My apartment door is narrow, so I had to take the door entirely off the hinges and shimmy the cooler into the living room. I had maybe a millimeter of clearance between the frame and the unit. I was exhausted and excited, so I started researching installation on my phone before putting my front door back on. That's when my landlord walked in. Apparently, he believes that my door, being off the hinges, somehow removes my reasonable right to privacy. We already have a strained relationship because of my own use of the unit. He still holds a grudge because I was doing some light metal fabrication with a consumer plasma cutter in my kitchen a few

months ago. He saw the cooler, the vacuum sealer, and the wheel of heritage cheese and started crying about commercial operations and fire hazards. I told him very clearly. The cheese is for personal consumption. There is nothing in my lease that limits how much dairy a tenant can own. The next morning, I found an eviction notice in my mailbox. It's riddled with spelling errors as if written in haste. I'm already preparing my defense for the landlord-tenant board. In my over-rearing, I'm over-rength. In my over-rength, reacting, I'm being evicted over dietary preferences as far as the landlord is concerned. And I feel like this is an unlawful action. O-P., okay, I think I agree with you this is probably an unlawful action, but I think I'm on the landlord's side. You sound insane.

To that down in the comments, someone says this sounds like something Michael Scott would do, and it actually literally does. Oh gosh, this comment, I'm not going to buy a wedge of cheese from some Randos selling it on the Facebook marketplace. Yeah, honestly, I would be shocked if he manages to sell more than a hundred wedges of cheese. He won't even make back the investment of the cooler, let alone the cheese itself. Maybe, maybe if he buys a really professional-looking booth and spends the rest of his life every weekend at a farmer's market selling cheese, he might be able to recoup it. But my guess, it is probably more profitable to just spend that time working an actual job. Down in the comments, people are saying there's no way this story is real.

OP responds with an honest to God receipt, 21 year heritage cheddar wheel, 140 pounds, quantity one, price, $18,400 Canadian dollars, as well as a picture of the cheese itself, which does not look appetizing, by the way. Our next Reddit post is from AHD. If you picture three women who have kids by the same man, you probably picture fighting, jealousy, and hatred. You know, baby mama drama. Especially if there's cheating and an unplanned pregnancy involved. My ex loves having women fighting over him. However, what he didn't see coming was us figuring him out and him having us forming a united front and him being public enemy number one. I'm a 34-year-old woman and my ex is 34. I met him at the age of 17. We were together for 10 years, had

two sons. When you grow up with someone, dysfunction can look like loyalty. Chaos can feel like passion. I didn't know the difference yet. He cheated early. He cheated often. If I found proof, I was crazy. If I questioned him, I was insecure. If he lied, it was because I was too controlling. If it turned physical, it was because I pushed him to do it. There were moments when the imbalance wasn't subtle. I'm 5'4 150 pounds. He's 6'4, close to 300 pounds. When arguments escalated, I didn't have to win them to know that I couldn't overpower him, so I stopped trying to win. Since he had already almost unalived me twice at this point, I was terrified of him. You don't leave relationships like that dramatically. You leave them quietly. So I started planning. I hid money, gather documents, acted normal while building an exit that he was. wouldn't see coming. By the time he started dating Maya, I was already emotionally gone. We barely spoke. Co-parenting with him triggered my PTSD, so I co-parented directly with her instead. And that's where the story goes off script. Maya, who's 29, wasn't the enemy. I never hated her, her and I got along

from the start. I even babysat her daughter from her previous relationship. There was never any jealousy or hate between us. She loves my boys, not competitive love. not performative love, just steady, ordinary, showing up love. She learned their routines, showed up for school events, remembered little things. They love her back. She became their other mom without anyone announcing it. I'll always be grateful for her for treating them exactly like they're her own. They were together for six years, had a daughter. We figured out birthdays and holidays like adults who are tired of chaos. Then he cheated on her too with Aria, who's 24. He told Aria that he and Maya were in an open relationship, that everyone knew, that it was mutual.

He said it casually like it was normal. It wasn't. Aria believed him. She got pregnant. While living with Maya and raising their daughter, he had a newborn son with Aria and kept it hidden for five months, five months, five months of straight-faced lies. When it came out, he expected war. And there was briefly, because that That's the usual outcome, right? Women fight, women compare, women compete for the man. But Aria came with those screenshots that cleared her name quickly. So instead, we compared screenshots.

We saw the same phrases, the same timing, the same gaslighting. It was almost clinical, like he had a template and just swapped the names. Aria wasn't the other woman. Maya wasn't the replacement. We were three women who'd been told slightly different versions of the same lie. After Maya left him, he hovered for a while, made threats, tried to pull control back in. My boys were furious with him for cheating on Maya. She was their other mom. They didn't want to see him. Legally, he had never established custody. No court orders, no formal paternity filings, so I didn't

force my kids to see him. Because of that decision, he started threatening me, telling mutual friends that he was going to unalive me. This is also when my boys started to tell me the abuse they'd been experiencing from him. So I packed what fit in my car and moved 13 hours away. He didn't fight it. No custody battle, no sudden father of the year transformation, just silence. At one point, he even vacationed in the state that I live in now. He knew the city. He was less than an hour away from where we live. He didn't call, didn't text, didn't ask to see them. That silence was louder than any threat he ever made. It was never about the kids. It was about control. And when he couldn't control it anymore, he opted out.

Meanwhile, the three of us stayed. We have a group chat. We talk daily. We coordinate so siblings wake up together on holidays. When my boys went back for winter break, they stayed at Maya's house Christmas Eve so they could wake up with their little sister. We FaceTime that morning like it was routine. Because now, it is.

There's no hierarchy. Just three women who realized the most unstable part of the situation was the man in the middle. He tried to triangulate us. We compared notes. He tried to isolate us. We built a village. Three mothers, four siblings. He thought that he was the main character. Turns out he was just a cautionary tale. Our next Reddit post comes from R slash Am I the Butthole. Am I the Butthole for telling my extended family what my brother did after he peed in my body wash for eight months? So for the past eight months, I, a 20-year-old woman, have been getting a whiff of a bad smell, a slightly sweet slash rotting smell. smell. I thought that I was going crazy and began overly washing my body, scrubbing until my skin was raw to try to get rid of the smell. I posted on a hygiene subreddit to ask for advice because I genuinely

thought that it was all in my head. I never thought to look in my body wash containers because I never thought my brother, who's 15, whom I share a bathroom with, would do anything to my stuff. A few days ago, I finally asked my mom what I should do because the smell just wouldn't go away and I could smell it on my skin even after switching body washes multiple times. That's when my brother confessed that for the past eight months, he's been peeing in my body wash containers so the pee wouldn't go down the drain and smell up the shower. He thought that if he peed in my body wash containers, the pee would evaporate and I would just never know. When I asked him why he didn't just pee in the toilet before the shower and why he chose my containers specifically, he said that he didn't know. My mom told him to go to

his room and that she would sort it out. She bought me new containers of body wash, and I'm now using my sister's shower instead. I'm also looking for apartments to stay in until I leave for university in August. Yesterday, we got together with our extended family for dinner at my aunt's house. I purposefully avoided my brother because I couldn't look him in the eye after what he'd done. I felt so violated. My grandma noticed I wasn't talking to him and asked why. So, I told her. She blew up at my brother, calling him a disgrace and disgusting. She also told my mom that if she didn't get him the help he needed, she would be disowned. My mom, dad, brother, and sister all left at that time. But I stayed behind since I drove my own car. When I got home, my mom said that I was a terrible, selfish person

for telling everybody what my brother had done. And how dare I do that when I knew that he needed help and that this would only make it worse? I ignored her and went to my room. It's now the next morning, and she still hasn't talked to me. My dad and sister are on my side, and so is my grandma, uncle, aunt, and cousins. Everyone else is on my mom and brother's side, but I really don't think that what I did was that bad. I didn't know my grandma would blow up at him the way that she did

because she's a soft-spoken person. I know that my brother needs psychological help, as my mother and I have both suffered from psychosis, but I feel as though I'm on the receiving end. For the past eight months, I felt crazy, Like the smell never existed, and there was something wrong with me in my brain because nobody else could smell it. I retaliated because I was so overwhelmed by everything. So am I the butthole?

Also in the comments, O.P. clarifies that as far as she knows, her brother has no disabilities, mental or physical. And the only family history of psychosis is with women in her family. You know, I was a 15-year-old boy, once upon a time. And even though 15-year-old boys are famously dumb, I was still wide. enough to know that if I pee into a family member's soap bottle, then that pee will eventually end up on their body. So I'm guessing, and this is an awful thing to say, I'm guessing the brother knew that, and that's why he did it. Also, okay, I'm going to make some commentary here. That's going to sound like I am trying to make light of this, and I'm really not. This is, I'm actually thinking

about the logistics of peeing inside of a shampoo bottle or soap wash bottle. I don't know what the capacity of a typical 15-year-old boy's bladder is, but I'm guessing you could probably pee up like, you know, a full cup of water, a full cup of pee. So if he emptied all of his pee into the soap bottle, then the soap bottle would be more than 50% pee. This is something that someone would notice. The only way that it would go unnoticed is if it was like, you know, 75% soap and then the remaining at most 25% pee. So I think it's way, way more likely that this boy peed a little bit into the bottle, enough that there was pee in it, but not enough that it was primarily pee. And then the rest of the pee either went into the

toilet or down the shower drain. Right? Am I wrong about this? Plus, we've all been in that situation where you, you know, go pee and then you forget to flush, and then you come back hours later and it's way stinkier, because pee gets really stinky over time. So I feel like if a bottle was 75% pee and 25% soap, and you squirted that onto your hand, you would, you would, instantly know this is pee in my hand, right? Wouldn't you? So that would lead me to believe that the brother's story isn't adding up. I think he peed just a little bit in the bottle, 10 to 20%. Am I wrong? Is this crazy? I'm really not trying to be goofy here. This is like, I'm trying to be Sherlock mode. I don't know, maybe does the soap cancel out the smell of the pee? Kind of. Even then,

soap is really slimy and pee is more water-like. So I feel like you'd, you know, squirt it on your hand, you notice it's like mostly water. This boy's lying. This kid's lying. He's got to be. That was our slash top post from Reddit. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.