Monday, December 15, 2008

Crap, I mean gift ideas to give your neighbors at Christmas time.

Christmas brings so many joys of yuletide fancies and hollyberry goodness.  One obligatory tradition that we Utahns tend to customize is the exchanging of worthless crap, or "gifts" to our neighbors. Not only are we obliged to pass out crud to our neighbors, we feel the need to label that crud with cutesy limericks and sayings.  From "Reindeer Poop" to Chex Party Mix, we've received it all at our doorstep, and I welcome it with open arms - it's got to last until at least February.

Now, before you start shredding me for my anti-Christmas attitude, let me tell you, I am in no way against giving crap to your neighbors. In fact, Mrs. Cheeseboy and I have been trying to think of a catchy saying to tag on the twenty two-liter bottles of soda that we are planning on caravanning through the old neighborhood.

  Unfortunately, our "original" idea has already been taken by Tyler and Daphne (Thanks Tyler!) and we are going to look like hackneyed nincompoops to our neighbors if we go through with our soda idea.  At any rate, Tyler and Co. gave out rootbeer and on the tag was written, "We are 'rootin' for you to have a Merry Christmas."  Son-of-a-Nutcracker!  First they take our gift idea and then our saying.

Thus, we have been relegated to look for a new gift idea and a new saying.  So far I have come up with the following ideas:

1. A pack of Schik razors... "Hope you happen to 'stubble' upon a Merry Christmas."
2. A bottle of Syrup... "Not to be 'sappy', but have a happy holidays.
3. A bag of frozen peas on a globe, surrounded by a Goodwill tire... "Peas on earth, Goodwill to men."   - - Ha ha, great one!
4. A pair of soft insoles, a Michael Jackson glove and a phaser... "Enjoy your stroll as you go 'Walkin' in a winter Neverland, and here's some protection for the kiddies."
5. A box of Kentucky Fried Chicken... "The 'secret ingredient' to an 'extra crisp'  Christmas is this bucket of chicken.... plus something else we added that we are not going to tell you what it is.  Eat up!"
6. Two of your children's teeth... "Thought this might be all you want for Christmas."
7. A breast pump filled with eggnog... "We had 8 of these, you know.  Our maids are no longer in the childbearing years."
8. A pair of corrective eyeglasses... "When what to your wondering eyes should appear - We think it's time you had that problem fixed."
9. A homemade portrait of Frank Sinatra made entirely of pennies... "Enjoy your 'Frank-in-Cents'."  
10. The new David Archuletta CD... "Since we're all just giving each other worthless crap anyway..."

And of course, I always thought it would be funny to give away REAL reindeer poop.  Imagine the faces when they bit into what they thought was going to be a whopper!  When they get upset, I will simply say, "It says reindeer poop right on the package."

Sunday, December 14, 2008

How I saved Christmas for the PTA.


This year, Christmas was in jeopardy and it's festivity was hanging by a string.  Fear not, I saved it.  I saved Christmas!

I was asked on Friday by our school PTA to read a story at the local Barnes & Noble.  Apparently, whatever was sold in the store for the two hours that the teachers read, our school received 20% of the profits, or something to that effect.

Given the dismal outlook of the economy and my undying love of copious, repugnant, American retail giants, I decided I must do my part as a true American and save Christmas.  Christmas was there for the saving, I only needed to reach out, put my arms around Christmas, pull it close to my heart and save it.  It was a simple choice.  I chose to save.  I was a saver that day; I was a Christmas protagonist and a Christmas miracle was my goal.

I showed up five minutes late with my two secondhand, shabby books at my side.  In my knapsack of hope I had brought with me two of America's finest selections of literature: Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus and The Pigeon Eats a Hotdog.  T'was to be a wonderful eve of delight and enchantment as I hoped to provide a rendering that the children could fancy. T'was suppose to be.

As I sat in the rocker that had been provided to me, it became clear that my role was not so much a literary reciter as a corporate babysitter.  Parents wrangled up their little ones and gathered them around, expecting me to entertain and delight while they grubbily rummaged through the Twilight series display and sipped on their five dollar lattes.  (Mom, Lattes DO have coffee in them.  I looked it up.)   

My audience of 8-10 children hung on my every word.  I dazzled them with my crazy pigeon voices and held them in the cusp of my palm as the mystical words twisted through the air and into their anxious ears.  I even noticed a couple adults stop and listen in, entranced in the magic that was The Pigeon.  I even threw out a wink and a nod to the passerby's giggling at the clever way I read the written word.  It was though I was hovering over my body, watching myself reading in a such a spectacular manner.  It was, what some would refer to as an "out of body" experience.**  

I was on such a lyrical role, I could sense the Christmas ghosts of William Barnes and G. Clifford Noble resting like phantasm elves on each shoulder.  I could feel their presence when I looked into the eyes of those children.  I bid them adieu and sent them back to the netherworld when G. Clifford's beard started tickling my earlobe.  

While I read that eventide, I could hear the cash registers sing for joy.  They would open their traps, jingle their coinage and sing hosannas into the yuletide, merchandising air.  I could feel my words, and the words of that brave, brave Pigeon, move my audience, or at least the parents of my audience, into purchasing novels and calendars and bookmarks with the yarn on the end so that when you are not reading a book, you can hang your unused bookmark on a storage clasp.

As dusk fell silently and solemnly over the strip-mall that evening,  I knew I had saved Christmas for so many people this year.  This one, simple act not only boosted our school funds for fieldtrips and the like, but it boosted the spirits of our struggling economy.  I knew that somewhere, Henry Paulson, Secretary of the Treasury, was looking down from his office with a smile on his face because he knew that somewhere, somehow, a small town boy with a big heart was doing his part to help the economy recover. That boy, ladies and gentlemen, is me... a man inspired to inspire other's kids to inspire their parents to spend way too much at a bookstore giant that is looking out for the little guy - yeah right.

And that is how I saved Christmas this year.  You can thank me next time you see me.

**An out-of-body experience (OBE or sometimes OOBE), is an experience that typically involves a sensation of floating outside of one's body and, in some cases, perceiving one's physical body from a place outside one's body (autoscopy). The term out of body experience was introduced by Robert Monroe in 1971[1] as a bias-free alternative to belief-centric labels such as "astral projection" or "spirit walking".

Friday, December 12, 2008

Dad gets wet with a newfound friend.

Sometimes in life, you are placed uncomfortably close to very nice people that you have nothing in common with.  Such was the case with good old dad, who shared a seat with a beautiful, large, black woman on the Grizzly Rapid run.  (I am not sure about why or how she showed that much cleavage, but I am sure dad didn't mind.)

My favorite part of the ride was when she would see the majestic rapids coming up and shake her head and quietly say, "oh Lord, oh Lord!" 

It was pretty good comedy sitting there on that raft across from these two people who could not be more different.  By the way, just to be clear, my dad is the big, Jewish looking guy with glasses and the African American woman is the one on his left.  Hope that clears things up for you.

By the way dad, "well, we still have to go over the waterfall"... great line!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

It's a Disneyland Singalong - STARING LINCOLN!

Hello all you avid, rabid readers, just itching to get the latest from the old Blog O' Cheese. I'm back and refreshed for another round of blogging.  We just got in from Disneyland and it's late.  However, to show my appreciation for your diehard support as is clearly evidenced by the 11 of you who voted that you would miss these nonsensical ramblings.   As for the 7 people that stated you can do without for awhile, I am sorry I have not been measuring up to your blogging expectations.  I vow to do better.  Nevertheless, I have stayed up late tonight to give what my public wants.

In this video we have a very excited Lincoln on the second day of our trip.  He and I had just hopped off the Grizzly River Run, when we noticed my Cathi and my parents standing around, listening to a bluegrass band getting down and funky.  Lincoln immediately started dancing and the band took notice.  In fact, they took so much notice that they invited him to come up and sing.  Never the shy boy, he took every opportunity to show his vocal chops.  As a result, the band was overly impressed with him.  Upon completion of the tune, he received a roaring cheer from the audience that had gathered.  So, without further ado, check out the Linkster in perhaps his finest moment:




[By the way, more video to come, including a hilarious one of good old dad, you know, dadding it up.  Wait till you see it.]

Saturday, December 6, 2008

We are off to Disneyland - The Fanny Pack Capital of the World!

**Editors note: For your enjoyment, sprinkled throughout this post you will find pictures of Fanny Pack Professionals, enjoying a day a various Disney Parks.  Your welcome, but thank me when I get home.

As the countdown timer on the right clearly testifies, the time has come to head to that most magical of magic places - no, not Austin Collie's bedroom.  The place of which I speak is Disneyland.  Home to Mickey, Goofy and those two strange, gay Tweedle guys from Alice in Wonderland.

I am very much looking forward to this trip for two reasons: Lincoln is tall enough to go on almost everything and Calder is old enough to finally "get it".  In fact, given Calder's unbelievable level of quirkyness, it will be very fun to see how he reacts to things.

It is difficult to explain this kid, Calder, if you are not around him all the time.  He has a peculiar way of talking and communicating.  He is an unfiltered, bounding show off and knows how to milk a laugh.  However, he is rarely over the top and generally knows his boundaries.  I find myself laughing at him almost nonstop, and the more he talks, the funnier he gets.  

One of Calder's favorite things to do is have you say words he just makes up.  He will do this nonstop for hours if you let him.  "Dad, say woo-goo".  I then say, "Woo-goo".  He then laughs and says, "Dad, say Co-POW".  "Co-POW!".  This game goes on and on and is only really entertaining to Calder.  But again, you really have to be around this kid for a long time, without the distraction of other kids to see just how hilariously quirky he can be.

As we depart for the warm weather and clean air... uh, okay, not really clean air - I made a list of things I am hoping to see at the Land of Enchantment:

1. An aged Tiki Room bird fall off it's perch and into the fountain.

2. A confused Japanese tourist mistakingly throwing a banana into the open jaws of a giant electronic hippo on the Jungle Cruise.

3. My face on the screen after every ride down Splash Mountain.  I make some pretty awesome faces... full of awesomeness.

4. The Bear Country Jamboree - I heard that they brought that back?  Is that true?  Nothing beats a mechanical bear pounding on a tambourine for the millionth time in it's career.  I often wondered as a child if those bears ever got tired of playing the same songs over and over, 365 days a year.



5. Some obese women wearing short shorts and a fanny pack.  I wonder what they keep in those fanny packs?  My guess is a camera, some feminine hygiene needs and two full rolls of rollo's.  And do people wear their fanny packs other places beside Disneyland?  It seems to me that Disneyland is the "Fanny Pack Capital of the World" and when people visit this magic place, they pull their fanny packs out of their closets that have been sitting around for years.  I mean, just check out the pictures I found with just a quick search.






You will not believe what I found!  The fanny pack of all fanny packs!  The fanny pack that you and your family will undoubtedly grow closer with - the ever amazing "Connectable Fanny Pack!"  



Can you imagine the possibilities with this fanny pack?  No more worrying about Dad sneaking off to go to the bathroom, no more fears of losing little Buck.  This is the answer to all our Disney problems.

Sure, there may be some minor tangling if you had too many fanny packs connected, but the end would definitely justify the means.  Plus, you could always just walk everywhere single file, carefully avoiding any potential tangles.  I mean, walking single file as a group throughout the park, with our fanny packs connected, would not at all be embarrassing or impractical.  Come on, what's more impractical, a lost kid or a few fanny pack tangles?  

New Coldplay EP: Prospekt's March


WARNING: This post is for Coldplay fans only.  Others will find it utterly useless and may sit, confused and scared, huddled on their couch.  

Hey all you Coldplay fans (My brothers, sister, Tim and nephew Brandon), I just got the new EP, and it is nothing to be ashamed about.  Now, I must say, I have thoroughly enjoyed the latest full length Coldplay album, Viva La Vida.  I find it refreshingly smooth and much more listenable than X &Y.  However, if this new EP is simply a collection of the leftover songs that did not make the original album, then Chris Martin and the boys need to start rethinking the tunes that actually make their albums.

The first three (not counting the short instrumental number) songs on the EP hit you like a ton of bricks.  They are fluid, catchy and polished.  All three could have easily made Viva, and I would venture to say that all three might be better than any song on Viva.  My favorite song on the album is track 2 - Postcards From Far Away.  

A couple minor quibbles about the EP: 1. The "remix" of Lovers In Japan sounds exactly like the original.  2. The remake of Lost with a cameo by Jay Z stinks of desperation of trying to make a very good song into a radio hit.  I don't want to say the word "sellout" but, there you go, I just did.

Now, the entire purpose of this EP might just be to drive Coldplay's current single, Lovers In Japan and garner attention for their next single Lost.  Regardless of the intention that the studio had to release the album, the fact that the fans have access to five new, GREAT songs more than makes up for it.

If you don't have this EP yet, let me know and I can make some arrangements.  You need to have this EP.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Andy Bernard Presents: A Tour of Schrute Farms

Found this at www.angelaandy.com Great site for all the latest on the big wedding!

The saga continues - (The saga of the Pooping Bandit... The boy that poops all over the bathroom.)

Just a little update on the situation.

The cops showed up today.  I told the boys that they would be coming.  The room got really quiet while he walked into the room and not a soul moved.  I told them that he would be collecting some DNA samples to take to the lab.  The few boys that didn't believe me last night definitely believed me today.

I gave the poop-atrator one last chance to come forward.  I gathered all the boys together one more time and we sat in silence for ten minutes.  Again, they begged each other to tell, but alas, no one did.  Finally, a quiet boy in the third row spoke up...

"Mr. Cheeseboy??"

"Yeeeeeeees?"

[Very quietly] "I know how we can find out who did it."

"Okay, on how would we do that?"

[Very seriously] "Well, we could ask Santa.  He knows who's been bad or good."

"You're right!  I will have to have a little chat with the big man."

Very creative thinking.  

I will keep you abreast of any new news on the bandit front.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

The saga of the Pooping Bandit, version 2.0.

Somebody (a boy) pooped all over the First Grade boy's bathroom floor today.  Much to my dismay, this is the 4th time such an occurrence has taken place this year.  Now, I have had many conversations with the boys of the First Grade this year regarding the outburst of logs on the restroom floor and I was completely at my wicks end.  (Is it wits end or wicks end? Wick seems much more appropriate as it denotes that I am a ticking time bomb and the fuse is down to it's last quarter inch.  Although, it could be wit - like, "I'm about to lose my wits".  Yeah, I am sticking with "wick".)

When I was a "sweeper boy" I cleaned many a restroom.  In those days, there came to be a legendary figure at the Elementary School known only as "The Pooping Bandit".  Thus, I know a thing or two about cleaning up someone else's crap - and I mean this in a fully literal way - cleaning up someone else's crap that is.   If you still don't get it, I was responsible for scrubbing someone's left behind poop stains off the walls using what we referred to as a "fairy brush".  I hope that makes things clear for you.  Anyway, we seem to have hands full with a "Pooping Bandit, version 2.0" - our hands full of poop.  I have a very bad feeling that he is probably a relative of the original. Either a relative or a copycat.

In order to get an admission of guilt, the First grade teachers decided to hold the boys of the First Grade hostage until the perpetrator came forward.  We sent the girls into another classroom to watch a movie and I told the boys that we would be sitting in silence until the boy with crap on his hands (again, literally) came forward.  We sat in silence.

After five minutes the boys started blaming each other and pointing fingers.  A conversation ensued:

Cheeseboy:  Alright, no more talking!  If you say a single word, I will assume that YOU are the poop-atrator.  

Boy in first row:  I think I saw a girl go into the boys bathroom at lunch.

Cheeseboy: No, no it is not a girl!  It's someone in this room.

Boy in second row: Will the person that did it be in trouble?

Cheeseboy: [Looking at him with a new eye of scrutiny] Why? Do you know something?

Boy again: No, I was just wondering.

Cheeseboy: Well, if the person tells me now, they will only be in a little bit of trouble.  If they wait, they will be in A LOT of trouble.

Boy in last row: Why?  What will happen to them?

Cheeseboy: Well, if he doesn't let me know who it is, we may have to call the cops.

Boy in last row: Really?

Cheeseboy: Yes.  This is what is commonly called, "vandalism". The police may be very interested, especially since this is the 4th time it has happened.

[10 minutes of more silence.]

Boy: What will the police do?  How will they know who did it?

Cheeseboy: Oh, they'll probably be down tomorrow, you know - take a few samples, gather some evidence.  They'll be able to figure it out.

[5 more minutes of silence.  The girls return and I tell them to gather up their things and line up.  Soon the bell rings.  The boys are now begging each other to fess up and several are crying.]

Boy: Mr. Cheeseboy, the person who did it is not going to say so.

Cheeseboy: Yes, Billy I think you're right.

Boy: If I am late, my brother is going to KILL me!  He hates to wait for me.

Cheeseboy: Don't worry, your brother will be fine.

[2 minutes pass... still no confessor.]

Cheeseboy: Alright, gather up your things and go.  We will talk more about this tomorrow.

... I checked with the Principal and the Dare Officer will be visiting our school tomorrow.  The Principal is going to have him come down and pretend to look around and ask us a few questions.  Should be mildly entertaining.

BUT AS LONG AS I SHALL LIVE, I VOW TO NEVER LET THE POOPING BANDIT 2.0 GET THE BEST OF ME LIKE HIS FATHER DID!  HE SHALL BE FOUND, AND WHEN HE IS, I WILL SUE HIM AND HIS FATHER FOR THE YEARS OF HARDSHIP I HAVE ENDURED.

Has this been a problem for anyone else at their place of work?

Merry Christmas from the McGuyver family.

There have been many a time in my life that I have been a borderline redneck.  For example, riding a 4 wheeler with a Confederate flag waving in the wind, or changing my own oil in my driveway.  However, today I realized I am truly bordering on 100% redneck when I realized that my Christmas light job was falling down and is one that should really be found in a trailer park:


















A closer look:















I thought duct tape was supposed to hold anything!  At least that is the rep it's got in the inner circles of the sticky adhesive world.  

Stupid McGuyver probably never put up any stupid Christmas lights.

A cuddlesome gift from a cool mom.

My heartfelt thanks to Kerrianne who created some adorable autograph books for our Disneyland trip. Check these out -


Now isn't that the most adorable, most fetchingly charming thing you have ever seen in your entire life?  By posting this, I feel I have entered the realm of cutesy Mormon Mom blogs and I am... ~LOVING IT!~  Now that I am a full fledged member of the Mormon Mom Blogging community, I have some great things in store, including a list of about 27 "tags" that I need to get caught up on. Nevertheless, the boys are going to love these.

Kerianne, you are too cool.  Thanks!

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The pros and cons of getting a student teacher.


My journey into teaching has finally come full circle.  In January, I will be getting my first student teacher.  I could not be more thrilled.  If I am lucky enough to get a good student teacher, by the fifth week, my life becomes a heavenly euphoria.  I am relegated to do literally nothing - sitting in the teacher's lounge and reading the newspaper.  (I know this for a fact because another teacher at my school currently has a student teacher and every time I go in the faculty room, he is reading the paper.)  The beautiful part of this gig is that after a while I am SUPPOSED to be out of the room - the student teacher people don't want me there.  

Now, I love to teach and I would not want to do anything else, but there might be something I love slightly more: laziness.  For example, I once had a job working for Microsoft, taking orders for something called a "Direct Access Action Pack".  It was a bundle of software for developers to... hold on, hold on, this may be the most boring thing I have ever written on the Blog O' Cheese; but I digress. 

The point of the story is that this "Action Pack" was not exactly highly marketed by the marketing geniuses at MS.  (Why is it that it always takes me 5 attempts to spell the word "genius" correctly?  It's just embarrassing.)  Anyway, I sat with a headset on my head for 3 full years, waiting for people to call and order this thing.  There were times when I sat, staring at a computer screen for a full four hours without taking a single call. I believe the busiest day I ever had was when I took seven calls in four hours. It was a great job for a college student, but an even better job for a natural lazyman like myself.  The task of sitting and doing absolutely nothing for hours at a time was a task I could complete with a smile on my face.  Golly, how I loved that job!

Now, if this student teacher turns out to be a total flake, it is definitely going to be more work than it's worth.  My dreams of napping on the faculty room couch while drool rolls down the the side of my face, will be replaced with nightmares of dealing with an incompetent imbusal attempting to teach children.  (Is that how you spell "imbusal"?  It would be even more embarrassing if I misspelled that word.)

I received a picture of my student teacher and her bio and she seems very, very nice.  She seems young and ambitious, ready to tackle the world, just the way I was when I was student teaching.  Her bio was very interesting as she listed activities and interests such as the FFA club (Future Farmers of America), 4-H and... (I am not making this up) raising lambs.  She looks bright and energetic, but it will be interesting to see if she has the gusto to deal with 20 six year olds for a full 8 hours.  I am sure she will be full of some of that Idaho small town spunk we have all grown to love.

In the meantime, if I weren't so lazy, I'd  get back to tending my lambs and polishing my belt buckle.  Nah, I think I will stay here and stare at this TV.

Song of the Day: The Bravery - Believe

I must admit, I haven't listened to these guys in quite some time, but I have been seeing more and more of them on the "video" stations that don't play videos.  I liked their first album a lot, which was much more punkish, but their second album just blew me away. This song is one of their best. 
 

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Cheeseboy Productions Presents: Cheeseboy - Live & Out of his Gourd!

Each year, as is now tradition at my school, I perform a little number for our faculty Christmas party.  I have done singing, dancing and stand up comedy.  My last performance culminated in a couple women stuffing dollar bills down my shirt and my knocking a cheesecake off the spread, only to catch it just in time. The odd thing about the dollar bills down my frontside was that I was not even stripping... well I wasn't stripping in the true sense of the word. No, no I was not stripping at all.

I have something very special planned for this year - something I hope trumps them all. (Don't worry, it does not involve stripping, although I have been taking a few classes at the Y.)  I will be sure to post video on or after the big event.

 I have noticed there hasn't been the interest building in our building that usually starts building in our building at this time when our building is building toward the holidays.  Thus, I have decided to have some tickets printed up, to build excitement of sorts:


Monday, December 1, 2008

The Redbox Conundrum


While at the McDonalds tonight, I glanced over to the "Redbox" movie rental thingy.  While eating my cholesterol nuggets and downing my aneurysm liquid, I noticed a women browsing through the movie selection.  She looked normal enough and I didn't give it a second thought.  The boys went and played on the plastic tubing and we went about our business.  As we left, I glanced over to see that the same women was still looking for an entertainment option for the evening.  35 minutes. 35 minutes!

The moral of this story? Please circle the best answer:

A. No person should ever have to spend more than 6.8 minutes at a Redbox.

B. Abe is spending entirely too much time at McDonalds.

C.  The short synopsis of the movies in the Redbox are not at all informative enough.

D. Give a man a fish fillet; you have fed him for today.  Teach a man to make a fish fillet; you have fed him for a lifetime.

E. Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.

Any other ideas as to why this women stood facing a Redbox for a full 40 minutes?