Monday, November 30, 2009

The Second Annual Cheeseboy Awards for Awful Christmas Songs

It's once again Christmas time and that can only mean one thing: My annual post on the absolute corniest, assuredly mawkish, undoubtedly overplayed, awful Christmas songs that I hate. Yes, if you are like my wife (meaning female), you started listening to Christmas music back in October. To make matters worse, Christmas radio in Utah diluted with horrible local artist's renditions of the old standbys.

So, without further ado, I give you this year's list of Christmas songs I am completely and decidedly fed up with:

1. All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey -
I don't want that much for Christmas... just never to hear this song on the radio again. - Ohhh BABY! -

2. Santa Baby - Madonna -
Every time this song comes on the radio, I feel like a piece of Swiss, being scraped up and down on a human sized cheese grater. When I think Yuletide and sugarplums, I think Madonna... trying to seduce Santa Clause.

3. Do They Know It's Christmas? - Band Aid -
There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time? This song came out in '84 and 25 years later there is still NO snow in Africa? Why are stations still playing this total shlutz? It is absolute garbage (garbage that could be fed to the starving orphans in Africa). I have an idea: never play this song on the radio again and perhaps it WILL start snowing in Africa!

I actually heard this song the other day and immediately turned the station in disgust. The station I changed it to? SAME AWFUL SONG! It's like the rotten Christmas song gods were trying to hunt me down.

4. Last Christmas - Wham
Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away? This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. - Enough said.

5. Feliz Navidad - Especially that awful slow version that says "With lots of presents to make you happy."
This song is so amazingly racist! Christmas is not about gifts and stuff - Christmas is about family and love. However, apparently the song writers think that Spanish people need a lot of gifts to be happy.

**Of course, this list will always and forever have a permanent spot saved for "Lifetime Achievement Award" winner: Christmas Shoes by NewSong. Not only the worst Christmas song of all time, but perhaps the worst song of all time period.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Song of the Day: The Sounds - Dorchester Hotel

I thought about making this my "Song of the Year", but have since found one I like slightly more. This is thick heavy stuff and no song makes me want to run faster or further. Or, if you are feeling a little sad, a little down, why not light up your day with the sound of The Sounds? If you can get past the appearance of the band ('09 version of Flock of Seagulls?), you will totally dig this tune.

***Check out the old lady at the 2:03 mark! So funny!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The world will not end in 2012 and I have proof.

The world (based on common knowledge, Mayan logistical analysis and research done by Hollywood moguls) is about to end! The year? 2012.

Hope I don't get too much ash in my hair.

Well, I guess I better break out my bucket list. I haven't crossed anything off since I made that majestic castle out of old bottles of vaseline and superglue. And people thought I was crazy.

Now, I hate to be the voice of reason, and this may be a first in that regard, but I'm sorry, the world is not going to end in 2012.

That did not feel right.

A quick aside - On tonight's Conan, the world's most underrated comic, Norm MacDonald explains why we should not be concerned about the earth ending in 2012... "I'm not really worried about the 2012 thing because here's the thing - The Mayans they were horrible predictors... Yeah, you see, they predicted the end of the world in 2012. Well, they are all dead."

The world can not end. So many things foretold have not come to pass; scripture prophesy states as much. I can prove that the world is not on the verge of ending. Consider the following:
  • Vampires are not yet walking amongst us. (At least that we know)
  • Windows 7 is actually an improvement.
  • Al Gore has not yet died of sunstroke.
  • George Bush III is not yet President.
  • Sarah Palin is still protecting us from Russia.
  • BYU has still not won a NCAA tournament game in modern times. Nor have they gone to a BCS bowl game.
  • Adam Lambert still has not come out of the closet as a straight man.
  • Thanks to a celebrity dancing show Donny and Marie are relevant again. Wait, hold on... I'm getting word that this is actually a sign of the rapture and that it has happened. - Ah Crap! -
  • Redbox has not yet made their way into the foyers of Mormon churches.
  • Women have not yet embraced HD and Oprah is still on the air.
There you have it, ample proof that the the world is not ending anytime soon. As it is written in the word, the world shall not end in 2012. 2013 maybe, but not 2012. It is written.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Sorry ladies - HD is for men.

Women just don't get the whole HD thing. HD is 100% a man thing. Not having HD for a man is akin to not having testosterone.

Women really could care less about HD. As long as they can make out Oprah's face and Dr. McDreamy's abs, they are in TV heaven! Heck, they don't even need the picture. Just give them Dr. Oz's voice talking about self exams or the crazy ladies from Good Things Utah chatting about making crafty Family Home Evening stencils with leftover mascara and a used popsicle stick.

When watching television with a woman, you can expect that they will do very little "watching". For one thing, they don't have the patience for it. Women very rarely just sit and watch a television show. On average, during a 60 minute program, a woman will actually view about 6 1/2 minutes. Sure, she will have heard every word of the show, but actual eyes-on-screen-time will equate to be roughly 6 1/2 minutes.

Women are programmed to multitask and most feel as though they are wasting time by just sitting and watching. Generally, they are doing crossword puzzles, sewing, crocheting, surfing the web, reading, cleaning up spills or folding laundry while "watching" television. (Granted, if it is a chick flick, a woman will drop everything and watch with every ounce of energy, at least until the couple kiss in the rain)

Men, on the other hand, are visually attached to the television like a hawk to it's prey. This is especially true of sporting events. Given the right game, nothing will draw our attention away from the tube - nothing, and I mean nothing. (Except for one thing)

So, HD matters to men. It matters a lot. Sports are in HD. We men like the sports. (At least real men do) While watching these sports, our eyes are already fixated on that screen with reckless abandon... might as well be crystal clear. Not only crystal clear, but "real life" clear. We men want to feel like we are there, on that football field, and Brett Farve's sweat is dripping on us like a leaky rain gutter. We want Brett Farve's sweat on us... at least real men do.

I mean honestly, what does it matter if "The View" or "Glee" is in HD anyway? And there are some shows I don't really need to see in HD - The Biggest Loser being at the top of that list. The only thing I need to see in HD on that show is Bob's beard; so well groomed, so perfectly trimmed.

My personal belief is that man's desire to see things in HD stems from the early caveman days.

- Grunt... huff... hit man on head with club.

- Can't see... grunt.. arr... man get hit with club.

- Grunt... need higher definition on cave wall... grunt... preferably one with the 1080-line system - a common HD format. A 1080-line system has 1080 vertical pixels and 1920 horizontal pixels, with up to five times the resolution of a standard definition picture.


If only it wasn't $10 extra a month...

Friday, November 20, 2009

Song of the Day: We Were Promised Jetpacks - Quiet Little Voices

This is my most favorite thing to come out of England since the original Office. These guys are simply superb. The best part of We Were Promised Jetpacks is that they look like just normal guys getting together for a bang up time. The thing is, they are NOT normal guys. They are like superheros of rock. Check out "Quiet Little Voices".

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

What I would say to Eeyore if I were the cop assigned to talking him off the ledge.

Why so glum? It's not worth it man. Come on down from the ledge.

Is it because you are sometimes blue? Really, it's going to be fine soon. Max Hall is a senior and can only throw interceptions for three more games.

Is it because you spell your name with two "E"s and then a "Y"? There is no shame in the fact that your parents were into the inventive name spelling fad bull. I have a cousin named Rubin and his parents make him spell it like the friggen' sandwich!

Your friends haven't abandoned you - it's just that you live at the edge of the Hundred Acre Woods and it takes you so long to get anywhere. Heck, even that little pink runt of a pig likes you and we still are not sure what sex it is. Same goes for that weird, masculine female rabbit.

That reminds me of something I have been meaning to ask you: What in the world are two kangaroos doing in the H.A.W. (Hundred Acre Woods)?! I mean, I totally get the owl, the rabbit, bear and even a donkey. But how in the name of honeypot haven did a couple kangaroos migrate into the woods? And don't feed me this "the woods are in Australia" BS! Not a single animal sounds like Crocodile Dundee. Not a one.

ANYWAY... are you coming down or not? Do I really need to go get Christopher Robbin? He's getting too old to deal with crap like this. The first book came out in 1926... why hasn't that kid hit puberty yet? Seriously, not a single hair under those armpits.

Why are you doing this Eeyore? Does it have to do with that tail of yours that is always falling off? This is 2009 - we have doctors that specialize in stuff like that. Speaking of doctors, I know a great one that can get you a prescription for stuff that will perk you right up. He gave that overstimulated tiger some ADD medication and now he just sits in a corner and hums to himself. All that obnoxious bouncing has come to an end.

I read that you are stuffed with sawdust? Sawdust?! No wonder you are so depressed. They couldn't spring for cotton balls? That is just pathetic. First the tail and then the sawdust? There is no excuse for such shoddy craftsmanship.

Really we should have seen this coming. You show all the classic signs of depression: 1. You say, "Oh bother" almost nonstop. 2. You eat nothing but thistles. 3. You are totally bumming everybody out.

I know, people call you a dumb ass. I can see how that hurts. It hurts when people call me that too and I am not even dumb.

I'm coming up there Eeyore. We can work this out.


No, not your P.O.S tail. We both know that won't hold your weight. That nail never holds.

Just slowly back away from the ledge.

This would be a whole lot easier without that miniature thunderstorm directly over your head.

That reminds me, doesn't all that rain make your sawdust all moldy? Nevermind... we can worry about that later. Lets just get you off this ledge and home to your hollow log and no family.

Okay slowly... slowly... slowly... NO! I PROMISE - I'M NOT TRYING TO PRESSURE YOU!

Finally... Thank goodness you're safe. All is well once again in the Hundred Acre.


And Piglet, why are you listening to Barbara Streisand again?

This comercial goes out to my brother, Jake.

Jake - I swear you've gotten your hair cut here before, so I would like to dedicate this ad to you!

Monday, November 16, 2009

Facebook status - Cheeseboy is writing about stupid facebook statuses.

Ever since I joined Facebook, I have been astutely fascinated by it's every whim. There is so much going on on a single page: so much human emotion, so much arrogant hooey, so much inside sarcasm - it's hard not to be captivated by it all.

One thing that I have learned as a dimwitted human being reading facebook is this: Just because you are thinking it, does not mean you need to announce it to the masses. Honestly, many of the posts on facebook are just random thoughts that you would never say out loud. Are people too stupid to make this distinction?

I mean, what would you think of me if I just wandered up to you on the street and said something like:

"I hate the snow, but I looooove the holidays!"

-- "Abe, what the heck are you talking about?!"

"Maize or maze... that is the question"

-- Abe, seriously... are you okay? Why are you saying stuff about maze?

"Are people serious with having 40 items in the 10 item or less line?"

-- Who are you talking to Abe? Your not even AT THE GROCERY STORE!

"My back hurts. Love me some Motrin"

-- Dude, you are such a whiner. Do you WANT people to feel sorry for you?

"Anyone have any Farmville plants they are willing to trade?"

-- I'm worried about you Abe. Really. What the %#!* are you talking about?

"Stupid #!@* tin foil! Never tears right."

-- Why are you talking in symbols? Have you hit rock bottom?

-- Also, you are really passionate about tin foil.

"Passion is a right of passage and we all have that right. - H. Terrance Emerson"

-- You are just making crap up now, aren't you?

"Anyone have a good recipe that incorporates rhubarb?"

-- What... the...

I believe the most commonly used facebook tool is the "like" button. The problem is that I like just about everything.

"Kevin Smithson became a fan of the Crossroads Community Food Donation Co-Op"

Here you go Kevin... a "like" from me. Becoming a fan of giving food to the poor... you are a good person, regardless if you actually give food to the poor or not. If you are a fan, that is good enough for me.

"David Larson and Tommy Yougun are now friends via the friend finder"

Thumbs up from me. Nice to see people go out of their way to make new friends.

Vicky Mixon: Rescued a puppy today from a man with a rifle.

LIKE FOR YOU. Wish I could give you 3 likes Vicky... puppy diva of sainthood.

Another problem I have is that I get so liberal with my giving of "like" I accidentally like things that should without a doubt not be liked. This is always embarrassing.

Thomas Stonehouse: Grammy died today. She lived a good life.


Jerry Submarington: So sick! Feels like my limbs have fallen off.


I always realize my mistake like 3 hours too late. Then I have to explain my like in the comments:

"Oh crud... sorry Thomas. I didn't mean that I like that your Grammy died today. I meant I am happy she lived a good life. I'm sure she was a good Grammy. Are we still "friends"?"

"Uh Jerry. Sorry, didn't mean to like your limb problem. I just thought the way you phrased it was a bit funny since you have such small arms and all. Like a dinosaur. Are you made at me?"

Finally, I always get a kick out of the people that invite me to join the anti-facebook causes:

You have been invited to join "1,000,000 strong to get facebook to go back to the old format."

Screw the poor in Cottonwood! Now THIS is a cause I can sink my teeth into! What do I need to do? Put a lawn sign in my yard? Go door to door? Write letters to facebook? This is important and life changing! HOW DARE THEY?! HOW DARE THEY CHANGE THE FORMAT OF THEIR OWN WEBSITE!? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE?! WHAT IS THIS... COMMUNIST CHINA?!

You know who else changed the format of their website? Hitler. Facebook is soooo socialist. It's just another sign our country is rotting... rotting like a rotten, rotting dead hamster, decaying in a basket of rotting apples.

Actually, I didn't really realize that they had switched formats, but I really feel I need to start getting more passionate about stuff and this is a good place to start.

Another big one I have been getting lately is: "Join the cause - Keep Facebook free!"

Are people really concerned about this? Sorry, can't join this cause. If they charged money to use Facebook, the cause "Keep Facebook free!" would die and I would never be asked to join it again.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Song of the Day: K'naan - Wavin' Flag

I'm not sure if I can make up for yesterday's clearly bizarre and underwhelming post with a Song of the Day. Sometimes I think maybe I try too hard, and I think that applied to yesterday's post. That and I was in a very strange mood. I have hope that maybe two people out there liked it. If I can touch the lives of just two people, I have done my job.

Anyway, if any song can stem the tide of disappointment, it is this one. This song comes from K'naan. I know, I know, I rarely post hip hop or rap as a SOTD, but I have to make an exception. This guy is terrific and his tunes are catchy. This song, "Wavin' Flag" is unbelievably good and it has recently been announced as the official song of the 2010 World Cup. My thanks to Chris over at Bowling Stone music blog for introducing me to this awesomeness. Making Canadian cyber friends is the best.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Fight for a cure: One man's (me) horrific pink eye experience.

I've never had pink eye before. I've had every other minor illness known to human kind (except monkey pox and lice), but I have somehow escaped pink eye. Until a week ago...

My eye is still a little pink.

Googling pink eye is difficult to do with one working eye, but I somehow garnered up the conviction and courage to complete the task. While Googling, I was sure to hum the following tune:

- I am a man who will fight for your honor .

I was not sure how this inspirational song would help my eyeball become white again, but somehow, in some small momentous way, it seemed appropriate. (Also, I have been watching a lot of Karate Kid II lately)

Dr. Google said that I could have got pink eye a variety of ways, but the most shocking (but I am still not sure most likely) was from fecal matter in the eye!

"Fecal Matter In The Eye" was actually my first choice for our high school garage band name. Alas, me and the boys emphatically went with "Bloody Stool". Looking back, the poopy eye name would have been so much more prophetically savvy. Unless of course, I develop the other torturous condition at a future date in my life. I can only hope this happens; life would then have really gone full circle for me.

Now, it seems that I am always washing my hands after using the restroom. Just something I was taught from an early age, I suppose. It's a retched and monotonous habit really - all that soap and water and drying and/or wiping on the front of my pants - (Depending on if the restroom is out of paper towels or if their electric hand dryer is malfunctioning) It's a never ending cycle and an irritating cleaning vexation.

I've actually considered inventing pants for kids with built in hand towels on the upper thighs. This is where kids dry their hands anyway and cotton is so much more absorbent than denim.

Several newscasts recently have had special reports on how long one should wash their hands for after using the restroom. Apparently, in order to rid your hands of every germ, you must sing the ABC song twice. The ABC song? Well, I have done a little research of my own and I find that the best song to wash your hands to is,"Nothing Compares to You" It's slow, methodical, and ever so boring... but has a great message. Really, it's everything a hand washing song should be.

♪♪♪It's been seven hours and fifteen days since you took your love away I go out every night and sleep all day since you took your love away since you've been gone I can do whatever I want I can see whomever I choose I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant but nothing I said nothing can take away these blues, 'cause nothing compares... nothing compares to you ♪♪♪

Sure, it is a little embarrassing when I am at Jazz games or in a port-o-potty line, but it gets the job done. It is best to just look at the starers and say in a slow, directed whisper, "My hands are clean. My hands are clean..."

I am also considering inventing a travel sized black light to prove the cleanliness of my hands.
ANYWAY, What I am trying to say is that I am fairly certain that my eyeballs have had any direct contact with fecal matter. I can't be positive about this though - I did find my contact on the toilet seat earlier that day. Fortunately, there weren't any brown streaks that I could see, so I didn't even need to rinse it... just blew it off a little bit.

Still, really... HIGHLY unlikely that there was any fecal matter in my eye.

I know what you are thinking: How in the tree chickens name did you find the contact lense on the toilet seat? Another good question. All I can say is that when I sat down, four words came to mind - princess and the pea... princess... and... the... pea.

So, my eyes are finally back to normal. It was nice to support breast cancer awareness for the past few days though. People could just see the passion for this cause in my eyes.

If you would like to make a donation in my name, you may click here.

(Make sure you tell them Cheeseboy's eyes sent you. They will know what that means)

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Why I have a love/hate relationship with fast food. (But mostly love)

I love fast food. If I loved it any more, I'd have to marry it. Actually, I'd have to polygamist marry it because I couldn't pick just one wife. I'd have one wife named Wendy living in the basement and one wife named Kay F. Cee living in the attic with our six pieces of extra crispy.

Did I cross a line?

- Oh, I am just getting started. -

French Fries:

McDonalds has some killer good fries - just as long as they are served steaming hot. Allow them to cool for more than 38.2 seconds and you are left with tasteless, gooey, yellow gummy worms.

Of course, at McDonalds, you always have those tiny parcels of fries at the bottom of the box. Why are they giving us these tiny, pellet sized fries? I'd much prefer the full sized ones. They could send those tiny sized fries to people that really need them - like to the poor in Finland or to people in our own country with STD's, or to albinos.

Wendy's has thunderific fries, unless of course the fry cook gets a little overanxious with the salt shaker. Wendy's fries are not as bad cold. However, unless one wants soggy potato pancakes, one should be warned to never microwave their fries. Also, take food out of bag when microwaving as the plastic straw may melt all over your #3 meal with cheese.

Arby's regular fries are disgusting. I once tried to give a hobo some regular Arby's fries. The hobo pulled a face and gave the fries to his ratty dog named Snowcone. Snowcone took one look at those things and turned and drifted away. Hobos are such pompous jerks sometimes. I hate hobos when they get in these sorts of moods.

(**Update: I have been informed that Snowcone was actually not a dog at all, but a bag of hair that the hobo had been saving. Still, he called his bag of hair "Snowcone", which is very curious, given that the hair was black and it was the winter time)

Arby's has a secret weapon... something the other places lack: the curly fries. These are the crown jewel of the fast food industry - and it took me a long time to realize that they were made from actual curly potatoes. (mostly imported from Canada, where curling has become sport) I defy you to find me a better fast food french fry than the curly fry.

You ever get one of those super long curly fries - one so long that you have to show everyone just to prove that they actually exist? I once had a curly fry that was 6 feet long - longer than a Twizzler super rope. This curly fry would extend from my head to my feet and could have been used for various devices including: to bungee down the load in the back of my truck. Fortunately, I had bungee cords and the six feet of curly fry ended up raveled up in my belly like a content rattlesnake, coddled in 48 ounces of Mountain Dew. (They only do this for the rattlesnakes at Hogle Zoo on Easter morning)

Hobos definitely would not turn down curly fries.


Wendy's makes an okay cheeseburger, albeit a square one. A single is plenty though, unless you want to be covered in grease the rest of the day. (** This does not apply to Richard Simmons, who is covered in grease every day.)

Burger King makes something called the "Whopper", which I find delightfully extraordinary until about the third to last bite. I then find that I am always asking myself, "Why did I just eat that?!" The thing about the Whopper is that it has about a cup of mayonnaise on each bun.

Imagine this: if each American that purchased a Whopper next year asked for no mayonnaise... that's enough mayonnaise to feed every hungry orphan in Russia!!! Hope they like Mayonnaise!

McDonald's makes the Big Mac, which for some odd reason I have a very strong craving for about every 2-3 months or so. Also, I get a very strong craving for them if I am pregnant, which seems to happen every 2-3 months or so. Also, I get a strong craving for Big Macs whenever I hear a Michael Buble tune. I haven't figured out that one yet, but I think it may have something to do with the sauce. (I tend to hear Michael Buble tunes ever 2-3 months)

Carl's Jr. has the "Six-Dollar Burger" which is fine, but something I never crave - even when I see the commercials with the girl getting ketchup all over herself. I do get the craving to hand her a napkin.

Hardees had this burger on a sourdough bun that was like eating something out of a imaginary land of plentiful delight and nonsensical nonsense of tastiness. Of course, Hardees has vanished, as has their spokesman, Karl "The Mailman" Malone. (Last seen grizzled in the Ozark Mountains)


McDonalds has the orange drink, which I am assuming is straight sugar-water mixed with a slight amount of orange flavoring. I actually like this stuff much better than Tang, but not as much as orange soda. Sometimes when I eat breakfast at McDonalds, I will get the orange drink instead of orange juice. Their orange juice just has so much pulp and I am sure their orange drink has just as much vitamin C. A healthy alternative, really.

A&W has a nice rootbeer fountain option. I always get the rootbeer at A&W. I think it is because I like to pull that long handle. Reminds me of Vegas and I win every time.

I am very opposed to any fast food place that won't allow you to get your own drinks. (Wendy's, I am looking at you, you sorry excuse for a Coke! And you call yourself fast food?! "Fast" is not having to cut in line and wait for "Beatrice" to have a sliver of time to refill my medium, blue Poweraide! )


What is this, 1978? Do I need to put on my rollerskates and grow a handlebar mustache and bring my hula hoop?! I guess I do... when I go to Wendy's.

Why don't you trust me to get my own drink? Are you afraid I am going to break your machine? Take too many cups? Push all those tiny buttons down on the lids? Lick the grates? Drink straight from the fountain? Hang a pinata from the Diet Coke lever and let the kids swing away? Invite hobos in for free drinks on me?

I love fast food. I'm just a little bit picky... except when it comes to curly fries. I guess in a way, I am more like that hobo than I'd like to admit. Some days, regular Arby fries are just not going to cut it.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Improv Everywhere Clip of the Day: I Love Lunch!

Thanks to a good friend, I have been introduced to a group called "Improv Everywhere" - a group of people that will improvise comedy in different social situations. This is their latest clip and it had Lincoln and I laughing for hours. So, without further ado, I hereby introduce a new segment on the Blog O' Cheese... The Improv Everywhere Clip of the Day!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

More spunk! (Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the Team)

My wife has taken to watching something called, Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

My wife is not a cheerleader. Nor is she the cheerleader type. **

FYI: Cheerleading is not a hobby, it is a sport, and becoming a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader is the pinnacle of the sport. It's like when you get to the top of the cheerleading mountain and look down at the other cheerleading mountains... and those mountains are like little midget hills, with little midget cheerleaders. And your mountain? Your mountain is the Matterhorn - and not the wimpy one in Europe without the white monster that lives in the middle and scares tourists.

I watched this show and not for reasons that you may think. I watched once because Cathi watched. I was forced to watch. I was an innocent spandex watching bystander. I suppose I could have gone downstairs and watched baseball, but it's cold down there and my wife gets frightened easily when cheerleading is involved.

In order to make the Dallas cheer squad, you must sit in a tub of water (in a bikini tiny bikini - because regular swimsuits will throw the machine off kilter and the muscular black guy in the tight shirt may start to cry) and have your body fat calculated. This is a requirement. You want to make the team? Strip down and get in the tub. Anything less than 7% is unacceptable.

The Dallas cheer squad will absolutely not put up with the absence of spunky. You BETTER spunkify your routines or... or... you are dead in the water. Dead in a tub of body fat calculating water.

Think about how much hairspray is in that water. I bet by the the last cheerleader, you wouldn't want to light a match by that thing.

Here is the thing that I really don't understand: Besides the overly pompous and plasticy faced, 40-something squad instructors, nobody gives a crap about who makes the team! Let's face facts here... 97% of the folks that are watching these women are beer-bellied buffoons like this Joe. I know exactly what he is thinking:

"Boy, look at those high kicks... they just aren't crisp enough."

"What is going on with that girl's spunkyness? She is so off her game tonight!"

"Look at that girl?! Did she even GET IN the tub of water?! She's easily packing around an extra 2 or even 3 pounds!"

"This is total bull! These women are a disgrace to the Dallas star!"

Thankfully, we have this show to now weed out the pretenders. In the episode I watched, one girl stated that she was so torn about her audition she might get a sandwich instead of pizza that night. Can you believe that?! A sandwich?! Now that is commitment and spunkiness all wrapped up together in a tight fitting, bone crushing, spandex unitard.

**I mean no offense to those that may be of the "cheerleader type" persuasion. By this, I mean if you have implants, are a high maintenance blond and have the ability to kick you foot above your head - you are still a person, and that is what is important in God's eyes.

I'm back.