When Married Unicorns Fight

Honey, where's our horn sharpener?

It's where it's always been.

Oh, okay.

So, where is that then?

Same place they have been for the past twelve years.

Oh, right.

I CAN'T FIND IT!

It's in the glitter drawer!  Look! You got to look.

Where's the glitter drawer?

IT'S IN THE KITCHEN!  IT'S ALWAYS BEEN IN THE KITCHEN!

Right, right.

Okay, it's NOT in the glitter drawer.

Did you dig your horn around?  You've really got to dig your horn around in that glitter to find the thing!

I'm digging, I'm digging!  I'm telling you, that thing is not in there.

You got to use the sharp nub of your horn to dig.  Are you using the nub?

YEAH, I'M USING THE NUB!  I'VE BEEN USING THE NUB THE WHOLE TIME! QUIT YELLING AT ME!

I'm not yelling at you. Are you sure you are looking in the glitter drawer?

Well, yeah. It's very sparkly in there.

NO, YOU ARE LOOKING IN THE SPARKLY DRAWER!  I SAID THE GLITTER DRAWER!

What's the friggen' difference?

One sparkles, one glitters. It's common unicorn knowledge.

Well, I can't find it. It's not in here.

AH, DO I HAVE TO FIND EVERYTHING FOR YOU?!

Look, it's right here under these mini-rainbows.  Right where I told you they were.

You didn't say they were under the mini-rainbows.  You said they were in the glitter drawer.

The mini-rainbows are IN THE GLITTER DRAWER!  That's exactly why I said you had to use your nub.  I don't think you were using your nub like you said you were.

I WAS USING MY NUB! Can't you see how it's all dull at the end?  And the spiral is a little faded. 

Fine, well here's your stupid horn sharpener.  You know you made us late for the rainbow hop?

OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN!  YOU AND YOUR PRECIOUS RAINBOW HOPS!  IT'S BECAUSE GERALD WILL BE THERE, ISN'T IT?!

*Thank you for reading and enjoying this marvelously fantastic piece on married unicorn fights. (Perhaps the best ever piece on married unicorn fights, according to the Writers Academy of Unicorns.) Please do not ask me if I have seen "Charlie the Unicorn" on YouTube.  I have seen Charlie the Unicorn, and this piece of writing has nothing to do with Charlie the Unicorn. 

** Now that I have asked you not to ask me if I have seen "Charlie the Unicorn" on YouTube in the comments, undoubtedly, some smart aleck will ask, "Have you seen Charlie the Unicorn?" I have accepted this as an inevitable truth.


***Okay, so the male unicorn in the story's name just so happens to be Charlie.  But that is purely coincidental.  Just because I named the unicorn Charlie, doesn't mean it is the SAME Charlie as in those silly YouTube bits. 


****I just realized that not once in the story did I actually tell you the unicorn's names.  The female unicorn is named Lucy and the male's name is Charlie, although he goes by "Chuck". 


*****Chuck the unicorn may or may not be related to Charlie the unicorn.  Despite his marital problems, Chuck is way cooler than Charlie. Charlie may be on YouTube, but Chuck is in talks with HBO to guest star in Entourage next season. 


******In conclusion, this is way better than Charlie the Unicorn.

Sitting in the Front Seat, Sitting in the Back Seat. This will help you make your mind up.

I recently heard that Rebecca Black's "Friday" has been taken off YouTube, which is an absolute shame.  I guess you will have to fill the void with my first graders cover of the classic tune, which is far better anyway! (My thanks to Steven Colbert for allowing me to steal his beginning bit.) My apologies for the heads in the way and the camera work.  My beloved wife is near perfect, but camera work is not her strong suit.

First Grade Fregley Chokes

It was the day before the last day of school. 

The children had just come in from recess and I had settled them down for a delightful showing of "The Emperor's New Groove" when I felt a tug on my pant leg.

"Mr. Cheeseboy... I'm - gah! - choking - GAH!"

"Fregley" - as I shall refer to him henceforth - is a bit of a lurp.  Gangly and awkward, he is exactly like one of those boys you see in children's movies; the geeky, trouble maker with bad teeth, red hair and freckles. This kid was Fregley before being Fregley was cool.

I grabbed Fregley by the arm and pulled him over to the garbage can. Pulling a kid to the garbage can is a teacher's first natural instinct, no matter the situation. A child could be bitten by a shark at recess and the first thing a teacher would do is say, "Quick, get that boy next to the garbage can! Pronto!"

Fregley bent over the garbage can and continued to choke, gag and slobber.  A bright blue stream of spittle stretched from his mouth to the plastic garbage can lining. My first thought was that the boy was vomiting; you see he had a long, sordid history with the vomit. However, it quickly became clear that vomiting was only a secondary problem.

As Fregley continued to chunk, slobber and cry, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Surprisingly, standing by the garbage can was not working!  Its sacred powers had no affect upon the boy.

I quickly transformed my hands into hook-hands, slid them under Fregley's armpits and carried him out of the classroom, a stream of blue drool dragging behind, gently landing upon the heads of the other first grade students sitting on the floor. 

Of course, the first thing I did when I got Fregley to the office was stand him next to a garbage can. I reasoned that something was clearly wrong with my garbage can.  As he gurgled and slurped over that office trash can, my Boy Scout first aid training began to kick in. 

In the Boy Scouts, you are told to pound a choking person on the back, or at least that's how I remember it because it was a very long time ago.  I didn't feel that the situation had reached the point of back pounding, so I lightly patted him on the back like he was an old lady wearing a barbed wire bra.  

This did not work. 

It finally occurred to me that the back patting was pointless.  I mean, I am not a total idiot, just 83% idiot. Fregley seemed to be able to speak and breath, but I felt that it was my duty to perform the Heimlich Maneuver. (Dr. Heimlich invented this maneuver in 1953 by accident while he gave his wife a stomach massage while she chewed on a bucket of chicken wings.)

Fortunately, just as I was about to wrap my arms around the scrawny hacker, his gag reflux finally set in and he vomited out the lifesaver that had lodged in his throat. 

Fregley looked relieved. 

I looked relieveder. (More relieved)

Fregley wasn't going to die, but he could care less about not dying.

Fregley was reaching into the garbage can.  What was he doing?!  

Fregley was searching for something.  

"Gross, Fregley! What are you doing?!", I screamed.

"I am looking for my lifesaver, Mr. Cheeseboy.  I wanted to finish it."

*This is a 100% true story, but Fregley was not in my class. I did not let him find the lifesaver. 

This Month in Cheeseboy Facebook Status Updates

Howdy everyone.  I'm back from hiatus. Just returned from a ten day vacation to Pennsylvania where I ate cheesesteaks, went watersliding and then ate more cheesesteaks. They say you should wait an hour to go swimming after you eat but this rule does not apply to eating cheesesteaks and watersliding.  I looked it up.

Anyway, I am back and I look forward to blog surfing to all your blogs in the near future.

I always post a rundown of my best Facebook and Twitter status updates.  Although this month's is a tad bit late, here they are. I'd love to hear your favorites.  Or your least favorites.  Or just a comment telling me how brilliant I am will do.

6-16-11 at 8:48 PM: The times I have felt like the biggest dope in life are generally the times I am listening to mechanical animals sing to me.


6-15-11 at 6:30 PM: Just ate farm fresh strawberry ice cream on a York Pennsylvania farm that looked like it was straight out of the movies. And not one of those scary farm movies either. I'm talking one of those movies with the dog running slow motion through the field and the dopey kid wearing overalls that is so cute you want to slap him.


6-14-11 at 5:38 PM: My sons have started judging the fanciness of restaurants we eat at on this trip by the length of their french fries. The longer the fry, the fancier the place.


6-14-11 at 1:46 PM: On our 5th different hotel in 5 nights. Interesting that not one of them has kicked me out for wandering the halls in a bathrobe, soccer cleats and a scarf.


6-12-11 at 5:13 PM: We hiked to two very secluded Pennsylvania waterfalls today and have also secluded two boys from each other for parent's sanity.


6-11-11 at 1:17 PM: Successfully conquered Easton's Crayola factory. I suggested new crayon color of "Sasquach Brown". They said they would take it under advisement.


6-10-11 at 3:41 PM: Just received a full body scan. Airport lady says I should see a doctor but is frustratingly unspecific.


6-10-11 at 8:31 AM: 1980's: Invite friends over and bore them w/slideshow of vacation photos.
2010's: Invite friends to view vacation photos on Facebook.

6-9-11 at 3:30 PM: I feel strongly that my current life, as it stands now, would be very impressive to most carnies and hobos.

6-9-11 at 9:37 AM: If you've got a problem, I've found the best way to solve it is to check out the hook while my DJ revolves it.

6-8-11 at 1:50 PM: If you are saving more than two seats at a movie theater, you are not saving seats, you are being a dillwad.

6-7-11 at 5:33 PM: I love it when my wife asks me to check on food in the oven. I have no idea what I am looking for. I always just tell her, "Yep, still in there." 

6-7-11 at 10:11 AM: Don't you hate it when your spandex bike shorts are making your Spanx ride up? 

6-6-11 at 6:46 PM: If there was a clown that killed all other clowns with machetes, it would still be only as scary as a regular clown.

6-5-11 at 10:35 PM: One thing I have learned in life is that sometimes a bad situation calls for not one, but two adult diapers.

6-3-11 at 3:06 PM: FYI: I've done the math & your Glee age is = to .59% of your real-life age. If you are 30 in real life, you are only 17.7 on Glee. (Also, one day into summer break and I already have too much time on my hands.)

6-3-11 at 11:57 AM: Right before he died, Dr. Kevorkian's eyes glazed over and his face felt frosted. It was then that he said,"I always planned to go on National Donut Day."

6-2-11 at 5:25 PM: The speling be is on. I have no dowt that I wood STEAL loose at a sixth grade speling bee!

6-1-11 at 10:16 PM: Turns out, opening the dishwasher and blowing in it will not make it work like it does an old-school Nintendo. Total bull.

5-31-11 at 7:04 PM: In 10 years, when everyone looks at their pictures and sees how awful they looked in skinny jeans, I'll have no problem saying "I told you so".

5-30-11 at 10:43 PM: ‎:oscopy - Abbreviation I made up for colonoscopy.

5-29-11 at 6:55 PM: If I were a mole, my lifelong goal would be to make a mountain out of a molehill.

5-28-11 at 7:03 PM: A great gag would be to sneak into the zoo and put little Crocs on all four feet of the crocodile.

5-27-11 at 4:17 PM: So my horse is claiming the he got his horse herpes from a hot tub.

5-27-11 at 4:00 PM: I invented a sunscreen that is SPF 1,000! I am going to start selling it at Targets & Walmarts. It's going to be called "Clothes". Look for it soon.

5-26-11 at 7:05 PM: First grade students: What are YOU going to do this summer, Mr. Cheeseboy?

Me: I am going to Pennsylvania.
First grade students: What are you going to do there?
Me: We are going to go to the Crayola Crayon Factory.
First grade student: Do they have pencils?
Me: No
First Grade Student: It should be called "Crayonsylvania" then.

5-25-11 at 6:16 PM: When Oprah signed off one final time today, I felt like a little piece of me died. Then I realized that it was just my leprosy acting up again.

5-25-11 at 4:26 PM: Dear Oprah: I am going to miss not watching you now even more than I missed not watching you when you were on.

5-25-11 at 12:37 AM: Only in Utah would you see people doing the wave before a U2 concert.

5-24-11 at 4:57 PM: Headed to U2. I'm going to speak in an Irish accent until I get tired of it or until I get punched. Probably punched.

5-23-11 at 7:29 PM: My favorite fruit is a crunch berry.

5-22-11 at 8:56 PM: I'd like to go to Baskin Robbins and tell them I'd like one sample of each flavor. Then I would say, "Can you just go ahead and put them all in one big bowl?

5-22-11 at 1:10 PM: Grounded my son today from tigers. There will be no tigers for him for an entire week! He was crying. We don't own tigers.

5-21-11 at 8:00 PM: ‎"Did I say May 21st, 2011 at 4:00 PM? I meant to say 'Bird poop bonnet parade!' Now where is my magic kilt and talking cat?" - Rapture Guy

5-21-11 at 4:27 PM: Worst... Rapture... EVER!

5-20-11 at 6:21 PM: I have never seen an Anne Taylor Loft on anything but the first floor.

5-18-11 at 5:31 PM: When people say someone's "died in the wool" , I always think that would be an incredible itchy way to go.

5-18-11 at 7:04 AM: ‎"My love for the work all started when I was invited to Kevin's birthday party at Build-A-Bear Workshop as a ten-year-old boy." - Charles Stuffemup, World's Greatest Taxidermist

5-17-11 at 7:09 PM: Many people do not know that a mythical Griffin is 55% eagle, 60% lion and 20% high school math failure.

5-16-11 at 9:36 PM: There's 2 kinds of unicorn hoarders: People that hoard unicorns and unicorns that hoard. Oh yes, and unicorns that hoard other unicorns. (Very rare). 

Abe and the Percocet

In my senior year* of college, I had an abscessed tooth.

I still have no idea what the word "abscessed" means, but at the time it meant extremely painful, filled with puss and preventing me from eating steak. 

It was the year of our Lord 2000.  I had recently become married and I worked part time at a call center where I enjoyed speaking to irritated people.  

It was a life that dreams are made of.**

My tooth, it hurt. It hurt bad. Real bad. Well, not necessarily the tooth itself, but rather the nerves just below the tooth. 

I called my dentist and he arranged to meet me at his office at 9:30 in the evening. He was a very kind dentist without much of a life.

Our eyes met across the dentist's office parking and it was then that I knew that this would not be the romantic encounter that I had planned.

Dr. Holliday*** drilled a hole in my tooth and allowed the puss to drain.  He then took the puss, put it in a ziplock bag and proceeded to dump it on his head.*****

I left the office with a smile on my face and a brand new prescription for percocet. I was to return the following day after work for the finishing touches.  

At this time of my life, I was a fairly heavy abuser of Hostess fruit pies. I am not proud of this and it is difficult for me to talk about to this day.  I ate these fruit-filled piles of processed sugar like they were going out of style.***** Cherry was my favorite. That morning I had two of them.  I figured I deserved them both; I had definitely endured two fruit pies worth of pain.

I sat in my call center cubicle, awaiting a call from someone who would undoubtedly yell at me about something or another, when my tooth began to throb. Pain radiated from that one spot in my skull into every morsel of my body.******

That bottle of percoset sat on the corner of my desk and I glared at it longingly.  I had taken one of those saintly pills the night before and it had eased me to sleep.  I assumed it was time to take another, but this pain was breathtaking. Was one enough? I mean, I had always taken aspirin in pairs.  And I always ate Doublemint gum in pairs.******* What would be the harm in taking two percosets at once?  

No harm. That was the answer I rationalized in my peabrain.

I downed the percosets and sat back in my chair, waiting for sweet relief to take hold of my morsels. 

Relief came and it came swiftly.  I looked at my computer screen and it began to unfold into tiny particles.  The particles then danced across my desk and onto my lap.  I stood up and tried to wipe them off to no avail. 

I glanced at my coworker sitting across the room.  She was wearing a string bikini and a grass skirt.  It was not Halloween.  She weighed close to 300 pounds. ********

The room began to spin.  And when I say it began to spin, I mean it appeared as though I was standing in the one stationary spot in the room and everything else was rotating around me.  It was as though I was in the very center of the universe.  It was all at once exhilarating and terrifying. 

Suddenly, I felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. I yanked off my headphones, stepped onto the spinning floor and ran sidewards to the bathroom.  I did not make it, but fortunately I made it to the large garbage can in the hall. 

Now, under normal circumstances, I would have remembered that I had eaten two Hostess cherry pies earlier that morning, but this was not "normal circumstances".  I was totally and completely drugged out of my brain and so when I saw dark red fluid oozing out of my mouth, I thought for sure that I was vomiting up blood.

I began screaming.  People in the hall stopped to check on me.  I was screaming.  "I AM VOMITING UP BLOOD!  I AM VOMITING UP BLOOD!"  Soon, there was a large congruency of coworkers staring at me while I shrieked with my face in a garbage can. When it was over, I collapsed in exhaustion and laid in the middle of the hall, my eyes looking at the ceiling; it was still spinning. 

My boss came into the hall and helped me back to my desk where I sat with my head between my legs.  I thought I was dying.  I had just vomited three pounds of blood.  It was only a matter of time. ********* 

I told my boss that I needed to drive home and he told me that he would not allow it.  He called my wife and she agreed to come pick me up.  He walked me down to the lobby and out to the lawn where he laid me down and sat with me while I admired the muscles that the birds were exhibiting in their weight lifting session.

My wife finally arrived and with much head shaking and embarrassing laughter, she loaded me into the back of her car and drove me home.  I graduated from college a week later and left that job forever. 

*I say "senior year", but in reality my senior year lasted roughly three years.

**The dreams of a hobo. 

***Odd, but appropriate coincidence.

****At least this is what I remember him doing. I had a lot of laughing gas at the time.

*****I think Hostess fruit pies actually went out of style in 1983, but nobody bothered to tell me.

******If the body was broken into "morsels". 

********That is how it was meant to be eaten, right?

********In real life and not a drug induced hallucinations, she weighed more like 250. 

*********"Time" a relative term. I mean, we are all going to go eventually. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 >>The Blog O' Cheese will be on hiatus until later in the month.  It may or may not be updated.  It will if you get lucky.  (No, not that kind of lucky, pervert.)

Texting Abbreviations for Old People

A very happy texting old man.

I love to watch old people text.  I mean, who doesn't? 20 minutes of yelling and frustration for a single text.

But look, just don't ask me to text anything. I'd be worse than an old person.  I text like a old person with no thumbs. And if there is one thing I have learned about the elderly, it's that they need their thumbs.  They'd be helpless without thumbs.

Anyway, if you ever receive a text from an elderly person, you may be confused as they sometimes use different acronyms and abbreviations than younger folk.  The Blog O' Cheese is here to help you decode texting abbreviations old people use.  You're welcome. 

Texting Abbreviations Old People Use

BRB,S - Be right back, slowly.

BCNU (SC) - Be seeing you. (Stand Closer) 

CHS-GR8R - Cheese grater 

LOLY-LC - Laughing out loud, while coughing

MW - My walker

OMPD - Oh my Phil Donahue!

OMB - Oh my back!

MAB - My aching back

MBH - My back hurts

HRDKND - Hard candy

WM - Watching Matlock

D-OIL-EEEEEE - Doilies 

MLSRM - My last slightly racist remark

RMBA - Remote's broke again

HERN 8D - Hearing Aid 

LYLAG - Love you like a grandma/grandpa

GABP - Getting a blue perm

B4IMGON - Before I'm gone

NSDTPS - No senior discount, this place stinks

BRBBMC - Be right back, buying more cats 

IFAICGU - I've fallen and I can't get up

4OCLE - Four o'clock, lets eat!

GR8 LWIO - Great, Lawrence Welk is on.

OxxxxxOxxxxxx - Hugs and sloppy kisses

ERH - Ear hair. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'd also like to mention a good blog friend of mine, Chris Phillips has me visiting on his blog today.  He had me list three songs I listen to while I write.  It was tough thinking of only three, but somehow I was able to pull through.  Chris is a funny dude and I enjoy his blog.

So, if you feel inclined or if you want to learn even more about me, click here to hear three great tunes.

The Queen's Speech

I occasionally hear women say that they are the "Queen of Procrastination". Yeah right. I've met the real queen of procrastination and she is nothing like you.  Fortunately, I can prove it. I found a transcript from one of her speeches.

THE QUEEN OF PROCRASTINATION'S SPEECH

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.

Hold on.  I'm not... ready.

Okay, I suppose I'm ready.  I've been putting this speech off long enough. It's time to do this thing.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears...

I have an announcement to make:  I am the Queen of Procrastination!  I have known since 1988. I am sorry I have not told you sooner. I meant to.

Look, a lot of people get really freaked out when I say things like "OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" Or "SEND HER TO THE DUNGEON!"  In reality, I never actually get around to having these things done.  So you can sleep easier tonight.

I've been meaning to call my mom.  It's been almost a year.  Mom, if you can hear me, I'll call you tomorrow. Or I won't. I probably won't.

Some people say to me, "Those burglars aren't just going to hang themselves!" But here's the crazy thing: if you make them wait long enough, a lot of them actually do hang themselves!

I had a lot more to say, but I think I'll wait until next year.

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN! THE QUEEN OF PROCRASTINATION!

The Cheese, Covered by Honey

Today I am being featured on a terrifically terrific blog, "Bees With Honey".  She has asked me the hard-hitting questions that the mainstream media is afraid to.  Questions such as, "Name 3 things you would bring on a deserted island."

Bruna is the owner and operator of the honey blog and she has fast become a great blogging pal of mine.  I highly suggest you visit her and become a follower.  As far as blogging goes, she won't let you down.  Click the icon!

**Now if you have happened to be visiting from Bruna's place, please do not judge me by my last woodpecker post.  While I thought it was quite humorous, it clearly is a bit strange for many folk's taste.  You might want to hop down and read the post prior to it.


Another Item: You may notice that the Blog O' Cheese now has PAID advertisers!  That's right, we're big time.  BIGTIME!

My brother works for Hyper X Media and he is looking for UTAH BLOGGERS to advertise on. And here's the great thing: they pay up front!  They give you money, you agree to run their add for a certain amount of time.

It's really that easy.  I was skeptical at first, but this was much easier than Google Ads. Here's how it works:

1. You must be a UTAH blogger.
2. You email my brother:  jordan@hyperxmedia.com saying you are interested.
3. My brother emails you back and tells you how much they will pay you to run the ad for 6 months.
4. You chose to either accept or decline.
5. If you accept, he sends you the money via paypal.
6. You put the ad on your blog. When the time is up, you either renew or drop the ad.

The end. I think you get paid different amounts determined by how much traffic you get, I am not sure how that all works.

Anyway, email my brother if you are interested. jordan@hyperxmedia.com

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled Blog O' Cheese shortly.

A Woodpecker's Cry for Help

We have a new woodpecker in our backyard.  I think it's trying to tell me something via morse code.  I have begun decoding its messages, finally putting my Navy Seal morse code training into action.

5/31/11  7:25 AM - 
.... . .-.. .-.. --- .-.-.-   ..   .- --   -... . .. -. --.   .... . .-.. -..   .- --. .- .. -. ... -   -- -.--   .-- .. .-.. .-..   -... -.--   .- -.   . ...- .. .-..   -.. .. -.-. - .- - --- .-. .-.-.-   .... .. ...   -. .- -- .   .. ...   .-- --- --- -.. -.-- .-.-.-   -. --- -   - .... .   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   -.-- --- ..-   .- .-. .   - .... .. -. -.- .. -. --.   --- ..-. .-.-.-   .-   -.. .. ..-. ..-. . .-. . -. -   .-- --- --- -.. -.-- .-.-.-   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .... .- .-. .-. . .-.. ... --- -. .-.-.-   .... .   .-- .- ...   .- -.   .- -.-. - --- .-. .-.-.-   -. --- .--   .... .   .. ...   .-   .-- --- --- -.. .--. . -.-. -.- . .-.   -.. .. -.-. - .- - --- .-. .-.-.-   .--. .-.. . .- ... .   .... . .-.. .--.   -- . .-.-.-
Translation:
Hello. I am being held against my will by an evil dictator. His name is Woody. Not the Woody you are thinking of. A different Woody! Woody Harrelson. He was an actor. You may know him from his work on Cheers and a bunch of movies involving drugs. Now he is a Woodpecker dictator! This is his new thing - holding woodpeckers against their will and making them peck pointlessly at poles.  Please help me!

5/31/11 3:30 PM -
.... . -.--   -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-   -.-- --- ..- .-.   -. .- -- .   .. ...   .- -... . --..--   .-. .. --. .... - ..--..   .. - .----. ...   -- . --..--   - .... .   .-- --- --- -.. .--. . -.-. -.- . .-. .-.-.-   -.-- --- ..-   -.. .. -.. -. .----. -   .... . .-.. .--.   -- .   .-.. .- ... -   - .. -- . --..--   .-. . -- . -- -... . .-. ..--..   ..   -.- -. --- .--   .-- .... .- -   -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. .   - .... .. -. -.- .. -. --. --..--   .-- --- --- -.. .--. . -.-. -.- . .-. ...   -.-. .- -. .----. -   - .- .-.. -.- .-.-.-   - .... .. ...   .. ...   -.-. .-. .- --.. -.-- --..--   .-. .. --. .... - ..--..   .. .----. .-.. .-..   - . .-.. .-..   -.-- --- ..-   .-- .... .- - .----. ...   -.-. .-. .- --.. -.-- ---...   .--. . -.-. -.- .. -. --.   .- -   - .... .. ...   ... - ..- .--. .. -..   .--. --- .-.. .   ..-. --- .-.   .... --- ..- .-. ... .-.-.-   .. - .----. ...   .--. --- .. -. - .-.. . ... ... .-.-.-   -... ..- -   .. - .----. ...   .-- .... .- -   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .-- .- -. - ... .-.-.-   .- -. -..   .-- .... .- -   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .-- .- -. - ... --..--   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   --. . - ... .-.-.-   .--. .-.. . .- ... . .-.-.-   .... . .-.. .--.   -- .
Translation:
Hey you. Your name is Abe, right? It's me, the Woodpecker. You didn't help me last time, remember? I know what you're thinking, Woodpeckers can't talk. This is crazy, right? Right?! I'll tell you what's crazy: Pecking at this stupid pole for hours! It's pointless. But it's what Woody wants. And what Woody wants, Woody gets, especially when it comes to possessing woodpecker slaves. Please. I require your prompt assistance.

5/31/11 4:45 PM - 
.- -... .   -.-- . .- .... --..--   -.-- --- ..-   ..   -.- -. --- .--   -.-- --- ..-   -.-. .- -.   .... . .- .-.   -- . .-.-.-   -.. ---   -.-- --- ..-   .-. . .- .-.. .. --.. .   - .... .- -   -... -.--   .. --. -. --- .-. .. -. --.   -- . --..--   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .... .- .-. .-. . .-.. ... --- -.   .-- .. -. ... ..--..     -. --- -   -.-. --- --- .-..   -- .- -. .-.-.-     -. --- -   -.-. --- --- .-.. .-.-.-
Translation:
Abe! Yeah, you! I know you can hear me. Do you realize that by ignoring me, Woody Harrelson wins?  Not cool man.  Not cool.

5/31/11 6:49 PM - 
..   ... . .   -.-- --- ..-   -.. --- .-- -.   - .... . .-. .   .-- .-. .. - .. -. --.   . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --.   ..   ... .- -.--   .. -.   -.-- --- ..- .-.   -. --- - . -... --- --- -.- .-.-.-   .- .-.. .-..   ..   .- --   .- ... -.- .. -. --.   .. ...   - ---   -.-. .- .-.. .-..   .-   -... .. .-. -..   .-. . ... -.-. ..- .   .- --. . -. -.-. -.-- .-.-.-   --- .-.   - . -..   -.. .- -. ... --- -. .-.-.-   . .. - .... . .-.   --- -. .   .-- .. .-.. .-..   -... .   .- -... .-.. .   - ---   .--. ..- -   .- -.   . -. -..   - ---   - .... .. ...   -- .- -.. -. . ... ... .-.-.-   .. .----. ...- .   -... . . -.   .--. . -.-. -.- .. -. --.   - .... .. ...   .--. --- ... -   ..-. --- .-.   .---- ....-   ... - .-. .- .. --. .... -   .... --- ..- .-. ...   -. --- .-- .-.-.-   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .-- --- ..- .-.. -..   -.- .. .-.. .-..   -- .   .. ..-.   .... .   -.- -. . .--   ..   .-- .- ...   - .- .-.. -.- .. -. --.   - ---   -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-   .--. .-.. . .- ... .   .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.-
Translation:
I see you down there writing everything I say in your notebook. Look, all I am asking is to call a bird rescue agency. Or Ted Danson. Either one will be able to put an end to this madness! I've been pecking this post for 14 straight hours now. Woody would kill me if he knew I was talking to you. I've got a blister on my lip and I am pretty sure it's not my bird herpes this time. This is painful. Please, I am begging you!

6/1/11 6:45 AM - 
.- .-.. .-. .. --. .... - --..--   ..   --. . -   .. - .-.-.-   -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. .   -. --- -   --. --- .. -. --.   - ---   .... . .-.. .--.   -- . .-.-.-   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   ... .- -.-- ...   .. ..-.   ..   -.. --- -. .----. -   .--. ..- -   .. -.   .---- ---..   ... - .-. .- .. --. .... -   .... --- ..- .-. ...   - --- -.. .- -.-- --..--   .... . .----. .-.. .-..   -.-. --- --- -.-   -- .   ..- .--.   .-- .. - ....   - .... .   --- - .... . .-. ... .-.-.-   -.--.- .... . .----. ...   -... .. --.   .. -. - ---   -.-. .-. --- -.-. -.- -....- .--. --- - - .. -. --. .-.-.- -.--.-   ... ---   ..   .- --   --. --- .. -. --.   - ---   .--. . -.-. -.-   .-.. --- ..- -.. . .-.   .--- ..- ... -   - ---   - .. -.-. -.-   -.-- --- ..-   --- ..-. ..-. .-.-.-
Translation:
Alright, I get it. You're not going to help me. But Woody says if I don't put in 18 straight hours today, he'll cook me up with the others. (He's big into crock-potting.) How will you feel if I fall dead from this post from exhaustion?  Look, if Woody Harrelson was holding you hostage, I would help you. Search your feelings, you know it to be true. Time to be a man!

6/1/11 5:00 PM - 
..   -.. --- -. .----. -   -. . . -..   -.-- --- ..- .-.   .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.-   -- .   .- -. -..   .-   -.-. --- ..- .--. .-.. .   --- - .... . .-. ...   .- .-. .   -... ..- ... - .. -.   --- ..- -   --- ..-.   - .... .   .--- --- .. -. -   - --- -. .. --. .... - .-.-.-   .-- . .----. ...- .   -... . . -.   --.- ..- .. . - .-.. -.--   .--. . -.-. -.- .. -. --.   - .... .   -.-. . .-.. .-..   .-- .- .-.. .-.. ...   .-- .... .. .-.. .   .-- --- --- -.. -.--   .. ...   .- ... .-.. . . .--. .-.-.-   - .... .. ...   .-- .. .-.. .-..   -... .   - .... .   .-.. .- ... -   -.-- --- ..-   ... . .   --- ..-.   -- . --..--   ..-. --- .-.   --. --- --- -..   --- .-.   -... .- -.. .-.-.-   - .... .- -. -.- ...   ..-. --- .-.   -. --- - .... .. -. --. --..--   .--- . .-. -.- .-.-.-
Translation:
Forget it. I don't need your help. Me and a couple others are bustin' out of the joint tonight. We've been quietly pecking the cell walls while Woody is asleep. This will be the last you see of me, for good or bad. Thanks for nothing, jerk.

The Woodpecker at 8:05 PM

Four Overly P.C. Parents of First Graders

Dear Principal,

It has come to my attention that a first grade teacher at your school is having the students sit on the floor "Indian style".  I'll have you know that my child is 1/16 Cherokee Indian and I find this deeply offensive.

Further, I'd like to point out that it is a complete misnomer that American Indians sit with their legs crossed all the time.  Look, they have chairs just like everyone else. (Yes, occasionally they do sit with their legs crossed on the chair, but that is generally the exception, not the rule.)

I implore you to require this teacher to stop using this horrifically offensive phrase. I'd never ask children to sit "White Man Style"! (Sitting like you are watching a NASCAR race while eating mayonnaise with a Hooters waitress in your lap.)

Thank you for your time,

Beatrice Footinmouth
1/8 Cherokee Indian
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Principal,

It has come to my attention that a teacher at your school has recently replaced the phrase "Indian style" with "Crisscross Applesauce".  I would like to voice my concern regarding this issue.

My name is Chris Kelley and I was one half of the 90's rap duo "Kriss Kross".  My daughter is now in the class that this phrase is being used.  I have to say that I am deeply hurt and offended by this.  During our band's heyday, we never once sat on stage with our legs folded.  That would have made for a very awkward moment.

I would appreciate it if you spoke with this teacher and told her to stop using this offensive language.

Thanks,

Chris Kelley
Jumper

PS: I would also like to express my dissatisfaction with the removal of "backwards clothes day" from the school  calendar.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Principal,

My son recently came home from school and told me that his teacher asked him to sit "Crisscross Applesauce" on the floor.

My name is Dale Mott, owner of Mott's Applesauce and I can assure you that we did NOT intend our applesauce to be spread on the floor and sat in by a bunch of children. I presume that you will remedy this situation.

As a thank you, I have included a free sample of our sauce.

Thank you,

Dale Mott
Owner, Mott's Applesauce
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Principal,

My name is Gerald Smartington, CEO of "Frankleton's Pocketless Pants".

In the last couple weeks, my daughter has come home from school complaining of her teacher asking her to "sit on your pockets".  I'll have you know that my daughter does not own a single pair of pants with pockets on them.

I am deeply offended by the use of this phrase. What ever happened to sitting "Indian Style" or "Crisscross Applesauce"?!  I think you will find that as our business booms more and more of your students will not have pockets on their jeans.

Unless you remedy this problem, I will have my lawyers look into what can be done.

Thank you for your time.

Gerald Smartington
CEO, Frankleton's Pocketless Pants

The After Oprah Diaries

The following is a few of the scribbles I have jotted down in my journal on Thursday as I have begun the coping process of dealing with the tragic loss of our 'Beloved' Oprah.

(Thursday)

7:00 AM: I woke up this morning covered in soot from head to tow. I glanced around and realized that it was not soot that I was draped in, but a salty chrysalis had formed around my sleeping body because of the massive amount of tears that had dripped from my eyes while I slept.  

7:15: This bowl of cereal seems soggier than usual. I wonder what cereal Oprah would suggest? Oh right. Crap.

9:20 AM: Inspiring and teaching a group of first graders seems so pointless with Oprah off the air.

10:00: Alas recess!  I'm teetering between tears and acceptance and acceptance of my tears.  It is a three way teeter-totter. I mostly totter.  Teetering must come later. It's the tottering that sucks.  I'd kill for a teeter. Man, I am such a wreck right now!

12:00: Oprah.  

12:35: Pull it together man. You've got kids in there wanting to be taught and you are hovering in the corner of the hall and shaking uncontrollably.  Is this what Oprah would want?!  IS THIS WHAT OPRAH WOULD WANT?!

12:36: Answer: NO.

1:30: I am reading Oprah Magazine to my first graders. I don't even care. There's an article in this month's issue on 60 day liquid diets that I think we can all benefit from. I miss her already. 

2:27: I'm making a doll.  Well, a replica doll of Oprah. I am using yarn and paper mache and a stapler but it's not working. I'm getting really frustrated and the kids keep looking over at me and wondering why my arms are covered in paper mache and why I am yelling "FAVORITE THINGS" over and over.

2:45: Gave up on the doll.  Started drawing Oprah. Gave up on that too. Got out some Playdough.

2:55: My Playdough Oprah is complete. I had to use more Playdough than I did five years ago.  I should send this to Oprah. No, first I'll let it dry and then I'll send it to her. 

3:00: I really should get myself a pair of croc-skinned Crocs. (This thought non-Oprah related.)

3:30: That bush looks an awful lot like Steadman. 

4:00: Oprah's on!  

4:01: Ah crap. That's right. 

4:30: I am watching Dr. Phil and pretending that he is actually talking to Oprah. 

4:32: This is NOT working. Dr. Phil is actually talking to a prostitute with one leg.

5:00: Crying again. Not unusual this time. I always cry at 5:00.

5:15: Boy has this has been a long day. I wonder what Oprah is doing right now? She's probably with Gayle, getting a massage by the pool. I hate Gayle.

5:25: Why can't I be Gayle?

6:00: It's been a long day, journal.  I'll get back to you tomorrow.   I've got Dr. Oz on the DVR.  Tomorrow will be a better day.  It has to be easier than today.

Dancing Teachers! (Cheeseboy included)

I've been very busy lately. No time to blog.  I've been working on our epic first grade program, for which I will have video shortly.  In the meantime, enjoy this AWESOME video that I made of the teachers at our school dancing! (I did the filming, a fellow teacher's husband did the editing.)

We showed the video to the entire school during our first grade program and they roared with laughter.

You can see ME dancing at 0:13, 2:99 and 4:25.  But watch the whole thing cause it is pretty darned awesome! 

Monster Daddy Moment & Letters by Cheeseboy Jr.

Hello beloved Blog O' Cheese readers.  Today a hilarious fatherhood story I wrote is featured at "Mommy of a Monster".  It's not long at all.  It's probably worth your time to go read it.  Wait, who I am to say it's worth your time?  Plus, Mommy of a Monster is a pretty cool gal. Maybe it's not funny. I don't know. I think it's pretty funny, but I am a moron. Click, if you dare.  But if you don't, at least read the letters my son wrote below the icon.

My son's third grade teacher gave him a glowing review of the following letters he wrote from an elephant to a snake.  I think a "Cheeseboy Jr." is definitely in the works.

Dear Deer,


I am Ellie the elephant.
My friends are as skinny as my trunk.
They say I'm as fat as an elephant.
I AM an elephant!


Stuck with some snakes,


Ellie


P.S. How does it feel to be deer?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Ellie,


Oh deer, there's an elephant in the room!
Don't worry, I'm here to help.
Make fun of how skinny they are.
If they respond rudely, tie them to a tree and leave them there over night.


Sincerely,


Deer


P.S. Don't feel bad. I had the same problem.

Cheeseboy Jr.

Talking Dishwasher

The Wife:


I've been asking Abe to load the dishwasher correctly for years now.  It's a good thing he's handsome and talented in so many areas, because when it comes to loading the dishwasher, I want to strangle that idiot!  But tonight something changed.  Tonight it finally clicked.  I opened the dishwasher and there was his plate, in the perfect spot, right where I had told him to put it millions of times.  I was deeply touched and when I saw that he had listened to me, I gave him the kiss of his life.


The Dishwasher:

Really, it was an amazing thing. Here I was, just sitting with my mouth closed like I normally do when that Abe character comes charging over to me like a madman; and I'm talking a real madman, like Daniel Trump or Charles Sheen! He proceeds to yank me open like I'm some sort of common, pathetic garbage can. Much to my surprise, that DOPE actually places his plate in my correct tray, on the correct shelf, in the correct direction!

I was blown away and not just by my drying mechanism either.  I knew his wife wouldn't believe it either and when she looked inside of me, I could see a tear droplet fall from her eye. I had just witnessed something I thought I'd never see in my lifespan: Abe had actually loaded me correctly. It was a moment I shan't forget.

The Microwave:

There I was, smelling my own sweet gunk covered inner walls when I see that twerp, Abe head over to the dishwasher with another plate.  He kinda, sorta nonchalantly opens the door and tosses his plate in.  I swear that FREAK wasn't even looking.  But here's the amazing thing: The plate bounces around a little and lands squarely in the perfect spot.  Luckiest shot I have ever seen! It was like a full-court basketball prayer shot that swooshes through the hoop.

I mean, this BOZO was fortunate he didn't break the plate, let alone have it settle comfortably into it's proper resting spot.  And then - get this - his wife comes over, opens the dishwasher and actually starts PRAISING him for loading it correctly!  I've never seen her so happy.  Even bed tells me things went pretty well that night.  All because this MORON tossed his plate in the air and it happened to bounce the right way. Some dudes get all the luck.

The Plate:

I'm not really sure what happened.  I mean, he was eating off of me, then he scraped me and then all of a sudden I am in the dishwasher? Apparently, this was some sort amazing feat and now all the appliances are talking about it.

The Refrigerator:

So I've heard from some of the others that this "human", Abe has figured out how to put dishes into dishwasher or something?!  Yet he still opens my door and just stares aimlessly into my bowels like a Proctologist for the obese. Of course, his wife still gets upset at him for it, but does he ever change?  No. An hour later he is back to his old self, staring into me, hoping that somehow, magically new food will appear while letting out all my cold air.  Jerk.

Abe:
I honestly don't know what it was that I did, but this is turning out to be the best day of my life!

This Month in Cheeseboy Facebook Status Updates

If you've been a follower of the Blog O' Cheese for a while, you know that on the 16th of each month, I post my very best and funniest Facebook/Twitter status updates for the month.  I hope you do not tire of this tradition as it is a very easy post for me to do.

5-15-11 at 2:09 PM: Birthdays only come around once a year and when I wish someone a happy birthday, I like to make it EXTRA SPECIAL for them! I like to go the extra mile and make them feel as though I truly care about them as a friend. I want my "happy birthday" to stand above the other 100 they receive every day. And this is exactly why I write "happy birthday" on their Facebook wall. 


5-13-11 at 4:17 PM: Happy Birthday Stevie Wonder! (Hope someone reads this to you.


5-12-11 at 11:00 PM: I'm really excited to start our new May family tradition of going into the mountains and planting a pine tree so that in December of 2017 we can go back and cut it down.


5-12:11 at 6:22 PM: I could see the forrest through the trees. Then I walked to the other side and I could see the trees through the forrest. It was at that profound moment that I realized: trees are forest, moron.


5-10-11 at 10:55 PM: I suffer from short term memory loss, paranoia and hypochondria.


5-10-11 at 10:56 PM: WHO WROTE MY LAST POST?! How did they hack into my account?! I'm so scared. And why is there a strange bump on the back of my knee?!


5-10-11 at 7:04 PM: "Kevin Maloney and 35 other friends changed their profile pictures."
Wow, Kevin Maloney is quite the trend setter of crap I could care less about.

5-9-11 at 10:40 PM: Should I stop asking myself rhetorical questions? (Don't answer that.)

5-9-11 at 4:44 PM: Here's a joke I just wrote for all my Botanist friends out there:

They say that "money is the root of all evil." Ha! I mean, if money is the root, what is the hypocotyl?! A bank card? Yeah right!

Now, on to part 2 of the joke: finding Botanist friends

5-8-11 at 3:30 PM: My first grade parents are the best! I asked for glue donations and got at least 3 horses worth!

5-7-11 at 6:52 PM: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha [So a hobbit walks into a minibar] hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha- An inside joke

5-7-11 at 4:51 PM: I can't help but think that if God had used a Mac instead of a PC to invent the world, humans and other animals would have a lot less problem with constipation. (Also, colors would be even more sharp and vivid.)

5-7-11 at 9:00 AM: I wonder how many people will "like" this status in which I say absolutely nothing?  (ANSWER = 27)

5-6-11 at 6:59 PM: Got a ton of great stuff for Teacher Appreciation Week, but my favorite is a University of Utah Snuggie. I plan on wearing it to every cold weather game this year.

5-5-11 at 10:48 PM: Every Butterfinger candy bar should come with a little toothpick in the package.

5-5-11 at 5:22 PM: People will make themselves sick not to be heard farting in public, yet they have no problem blowing their nose like a trumpet when I'm around.

5-4-11 at 5:17 PM: I could never be a restaurant owner because I can never spell "restaurant" correctly without Googling it first.

5-3-11 at 9:15 PM: Sometimes I ask for Skittles on my Subway, just to see if that kid's listening.

5-3-11 at 8:02 PM: My son graduated from preschool today! I could not be more proud. He crammed during finals week (Up until 8:00 every night!) and pushed through his research paper (drawing dogs). His thesis received rave reviews from all his professors. ("The impact of Spongebob on the 5 year old brain") I just pray that he hasn't peaked academically.

5-2-11 at 9:12 PM: I tweeted this 20 hours ago: "They should shoot Bin Laden EVERY Sunday from now on so that they can break into the Celebrity Apprentice." Tonight I am watching Conan and he tells almost the EXACT SAME joke! Coincidence or is Conan reading my tweets??

5-2-11 at 4:58 PM: I'm kinda wishing today that I hadn't said no to those Navy SEAL recruiters back in '97.

4-30-11 at 10:14 PM: Mariah Carey had twins! Finally, a plot for "Glitter 2"!

4:30-11 at 4:15 PM: Copy and paste this as your status for the day.

4-30-11 at 4:16 PM: Copy and paste this as your status for the day.

4-29-11 at 6:51 PM: Sometimes I will stop the microwave with one second left and quietly say to myself, "You did it Abe. We're safe now."

4-28-11 at 6:58 PM: Why is it that every time I wear spandex to Walmart I get the sick feeling that people are taking pictures of me?

4-27-11 at 4:39 PM: Thinking of becoming a volunteer firefighter. Maybe go down the pole once or twice and then quit. Maybe pet the dalmatian and pose for the calendar.

4-27-11 at 4:38 PM: Why is no one asking to see Kate Middleton's birth certificate? How do we know she is really British and not Kenyan?!

4-26-11 at 7:11 PM: I'd totally eat at a salad bar if it had lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, ketchup, mustard, hamburger and buns.

4-25-11 at 1:59 PM: Every girl in the world can look at Kate Middleton and say, "I too can marry a jobless bald guy that still lives with his grandmother."

4-24-11 at 7:51 PM: When the Easter Bunny takes a shower, I bet he has to clean a lot of that fake grass gunk out of the drain.

4-23-11 at 12:22 PM: Headed to Five Guys for my birthday and a heart attack.

4-22-11 at 8:07 PM: Actual conversation I witnessed my wife just have with a teenage boy working at the St. George Shoe Carnival: ..."Can I help you?"... "Yeah, what is a good running shoe for men?"... (Points) - "Asics are the best."... "Those are New Balance."... (Embarrassed) "Yeah, I am not very good with shoes."

4-21-11 at 9:28 PM: If I taught first grade at Amish School, this would be my curriculum: 

Monday -Build School, Tuesday -Quilt Tying, Wednesday -Electric Fireplace Building, Thursday -Buggy Driver's Ed., Friday - Rehearse scenes for "Witness" musical.

4-21-11 at 10:43 AM: This is a very special weekend: A weekend in which you can feel religious guilt and environmental guilt all at once.

4-20-11 at 4:42 PM: Honestly, the ONLY thing I know about the royal family is that they have weddings.

4-19-11 at 7:59 PM: My son says he hates Earth Day because they make him clean up other people's garbage on the playground. I told him to buck up - because he's saving dolphins. I'm not sure, but I think he gave me his first "bird".

4-18-11 at 5:48 PM: One of my first graders asked if brown is in the rainbow. I responded, "Only when a unicorn poops on it." I am a horrible teacher.