Thursday, March 31, 2011

Being a teacher is like being... (A metaphoric simile)

Being a teacher is sometimes like being an American Idol judge.  You pretend to know what you are talking about while drinking a ton of Diet Coke.

Being a teacher is always like being a game show host, except you can't let any of the contestants lose and Vanna White looks a lot like a lunch lady.

Being a teacher is always like being on an episode of 'Hoarders'.  Have you ever seen the inside of a First Grader's desk?

Being a teacher is sometimes like running a carnival merry-go-round.  Sure, you get spit on a lot, but you do find tons of spare change.

Being a teacher is always like being a chimney sweep.  It's dirty work, but there's a lot of singing and dancing to loopy music along the way.

Being a teacher is sometimes like being a comedian, except you can punish the hecklers.

Being a teacher is always like being cocktail waitress.  We get paid the same wage.

Being a teacher is sometimes like being a mom.  Especially when your students accidentally call you "mom".

Being a teacher is sometimes like being Dr. Phil.  Oprah occasionally gives you her "favorite things".

Being a teacher is sometimes like being statue.  When a kid farts, you can't laugh.

Being a teacher is sometimes like being a psychologist.  Except you have to listen to whining people literally cry over spilled milk.

Being a teacher is always like being Han Solo.  Handsome, witty and charming.  At least that is what it's like for me.

Being a teacher is always like the greatest job in the entire world.  I wouldn't want to do anything else.

* I realize I am at 600 followers.  Homeless man post coming soon! I promise.

Monday, March 28, 2011

When Dora the Explorer is Married

** FYI: Dora married a man named Diego.  He is NOT her cousin.  This confusion is something she has dealt with her entire adult life. I feel badly for her.

Dora: Honey, you are going the wrong way!

Diego: Uh, I know where I'm going.

Dora: You were supposed to go over the troll bridge.  We passed that like three miles ago.

Diego: No. You said around the troll bridge, then past the alligator pond.

Dora: Here, let me check the map.

MapI'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map.  I'm the map - - I'M THE MAP!

Diego: Can you shut that stupid thing up?!

Map: To get to Candy Mountain, you need to go over Troll Bridge, past Alligator Pond and then you are at Candy Mountain.  Bridge. Pond. Mountain.  Bridge. Pond. Mountain.  Bridge. Pond. Mountain!

Diego:  Seriously, give me that friggen' piece of crap.  I'm gonna...

Dora: No!  Seriously, you had three easy instructions.  Three!  What the heck is wrong with you?

Diego: I've been to Candy Mountain before in college.  I think I know where it is.

Dora:  Why don't we just pull over and ask for directions?

Diego: In this part of town? No way I'm stopping here.  Swiper lives around here.  He swipes.  I hate that guy.

Dora:  Pull over here.

Diego: No!


Diego: Alright, alright.

[Dora gets out and is approached by Swiper]

Dora:  Swiper, no swiping!  Swiper, no swiping!  Swiper, no swiping!

Diego:  He just goes away when you say that?

Dora: He's an awful thief.  Really bad.  Been that way for years.

Diego: Did you get directions then?

Dora: Yeah: Okay, go over the Troll Bridge, past the Alligator Pond and then to the Candy Mountain.


Dora: Sorry.  Hey, where is my purse?

Diego:  SWIPER!

Dora: I don't get it!  I said it three times?

Diego: OH MAN!!!

**I am not sure if this post is funny or not, but my 9 year old son has been watching me write it and it had him giggling so hard he was almost crying.  Even if no one else likes it, that alone was worth writing it.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Questions I have asked the Facebook Admins

Recently I discovered a way of contacting Facebook to notify them of troubles you might be experiencing with their hallowed site.  As a result of this discovery, I have asked my share of questions.  Here is a small sampling:

- Hello.  Sometimes when I post a status update, my friend Mitchell is the only one that ever responds.  Could there be a problem with my feed or is Mitchell messing with me somehow?  Cause I hate that guy!  Should I de-friend him? Thoughts?

- Hi Facebook people.  I posted as a status update that I was de-friending Mitchell and he responded that he wants his litter box back.  He doesn't even have a cat anymore!  Lots of people have been commenting that I should give Mitchell back his litter box so my previous concern is no longer valid.  I thank you for your time in this matter.

- Hello.  I seem to be having a problem with my friend count.  I am currently stuck at 598.  I have been at 598 for almost TWO WEEKS!  I dropped Mitchell as a friend and I am STILL at 598. (I added Barbara.) There must be a bug or something.  Do you need screen shots?

- Yes. Hello. I have been having problems "liking" things.  For example, in real life I "like"candy bars.  On Facebook, I like candy bars, but I can't exactly eat them there, you know?  Is there a way to "like" something that you can't really have?  I don't know.  At my house, I go to my cupboard and pull out a candy bar and then say "like".  On Facebook, it's the exact opposite, I like something and then I end up with nothing.  It just seems very counterproductive to me.

- I heard that if you say "Tiger's Blood" three times while looking at your Facebook wall, your profile picture turns into Charlie Sheen.  Is this true?

- I have another "like" problem that I would like you to address.  I have all these female friends that I like, but I am married, which causes some problems.  I mean, I like these women, but I don't like like them, you know?  I feel awkward about clicking "like".  Maybe there could be a "Like, but not like like, you know?" button.

- Hi again.  Yes, I am thinking my poke finger might be broken.  I click on it all the time and nothing happens. Is something supposed to happen? It seems like something should happen.

- Hello "friends".  When I die, I would like my Facebook picture promptly removed - but I'd like a reminder of my love for my friends posted to all of their walls. (Not Mitchell!)  Maybe a post of a virtual flower or a kitten sitting in a sink holding a little note that says, "Abe's Dead"?  Is this possible?

Also, I may or may not actually give you a warning note letting you know that I am passing away, so you might have to check the obituaries.  If you get a message from me that seems half-written, you can just assume I am gone and follow through with this plan.

- Hello. I'm wearing glasses in my current profile picture. I no longer wear glasses.  Is there a way to edit out the glasses?

- Still having problems with my friend count.  It was at 599 for a day or so, but then went back down to 598.  Maybe you could "loan" me like 100 fake friends or so just so I can get off 598?  (Mitchell has 612.  It'd kill him if I got more!)

- Hi, I've been on Facebook for three years now and every time I try and access

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

When Wiggles Die...

Greg Page, age 39

Survived by: Jeff, Murray, Anthony, Captain Feathersword, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus and Wags the Dog.

Our beloved Greg's passing came as a great shock to us all.  He left this world due to a horrible case fruit salad poisoning. Greg loved fruit salad and very often referred to it as, "Yummy yummy!" Greg's passions were singing, dancing, speaking in an Australian accent and the color yellow.  His written word and song proved fatefully ironic in the end: "A Froggy He Would a Wooing Go".  

Wo on Greg.  Wo on, you shiny diamond! 

Jeff Fatt, age 60 

Survived by: Murray, Anthony, Captain Feathersword, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus and Wags the Dog.

Our beloved Jeff passed from this mortal life in the early Friday morning hours.  Jeff's accidental death came as a shock to all of us.  When he was found, there were hot potato wounds scattered all over his lifeless body.  Jeff had forgotten the common Wiggle practice of offsetting the heat of the hot potatoes with that of the cold banana.

Jeff will be remembered fondly for his love of singing, dancing and the color purple.  A man of few words, Jeff was always the one to feed Wags the Dog.  He will be remembered for his hilarious narcolepsy, although this condition ultimately proved to be the a large contributor of his death. 

"Hey, Hey, Hey, We're All Pirate Dancing." At least Jeff is.  In heaven. Heaven pirate dancing.

Murray Cook, age 51

Survived by: Anthony, Captain Feathersword, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus and Wags the Dog.

Murray Cook, a Wiggle forever, passed into the realm of dead Australian children's song heros after a horrid Big Red Car accident on I-15.  It traveled near, but alas, it could not travel far. 

Murray will be remembered fondly for his love of singing, dancing and the color Red.  He will also be remembered as "the ugly, but funny one" and "the one that Captain Feathersword was especially fond of."  Murray loved that Big Red Car, but instead of "Choo-Choo-Chugga-Chugga-ing", he was "Moving his arms like Henry" during those last few seconds of his life. 

Anthony Field, age 48 

Survived by: Captain Feathersword, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus and Wags the Dog.

We are saddened by the sudden passing of our kind friend, Anthony.  Our sweet Anthony, we shall ever miss you, even if you were strangled by a giant octopus while trying to sing a folk song to it underwater.

Anthony will be remembered fondly for his love of singing, dancing and the color blue.  He will be remembered fondly as "the good-looking and charming one."  Anthony's greatest joy in life was living with four other full-grown men and making up dances for them to do late into the night.  Anthony never married and never had a girlfriend, but never once complained about it.  That was the type of attitude Anthony had in life.  It was a beautiful thing.

Anthony, "Can you point your fingers and do the twist?"  No?  Well, we had the mortician do that for you.  We thought it only fitting.

FYI: In case you were wondering, my very first blog post was 3 years ago today.  But I am not big into Blogiversaries.  I'd rather have you comment on the post that I put so much blood and sweat into over the past hour or so.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

This Month in Cheeseboy Facebook Status Updates

As you may know, I am an avid Facebooker.  (Although recently I have also become quite the Twitterer.) Here is a list of this past month's favorite updates.  I'd love to hear your favorite or least favorite. 

3-16-11 at 7:00 PM: I'm ashamed to admit than when I play my 4yo son in MarioCart, I never tell him when he's going the wrong direction.

3-15-11 at 8:40 PM: Sometimes I feel like I am walking on eggshells. It's at that moment that I realize that someone has put a chick incubator on the floor.

3-15-11 at 7:05 PMYou're looking at the First Grade Dance Off Champion - - 7 years running now. Broke out some new moves that none of the first graders saw coming. Congratulations to me for tearing up that dance floor today! (And by "dance floor", I mean one of those colorful rugs that first graders sit on.)

3-14-11 at 6:57 PMIf you own one of those giant bounce houses... and you haven't filled it with the neighborhood cats wearing miniature football helmets... well, you're just wasting everyone's time.

3-12-11 at 12:49 PMI am not saying I am a ladies man or anything, just that for whatever reason, 95% of the facebook "likes" I get are from women.

3-11-11 at 3:05 PMI wore a suit to school for the first time ever yesterday. First thing a kid says to me is, "Mr. Yospe, it's NOT Sunday and it's NOT the prom!"

3-9-11 at 8:44 PMI overheard this ACTUAL conversation from two of my first grade boys today: "I've put on a few pounds." "Really? I think that's normal. How many?" "Like 60 since I was born."

3-8-11 at 7:03 PM: Just saw a commercial that saying that if my kids eat fruit snacks, a kid in Africa might get a laptop. Wouldn't it make more sense if I buy a laptop, Africa kids would get fruit snacks?

3-7-11 at 6:11 PMJust heard a giant CRASH in my 4 year old, son's room. A few moments later he came out and started looking for a glue stick.

3-7-11 at 4:13 PMLast night I read from the book of Genesis for the first times in YEARS. Today Phil Collins retires. Coincidence? Only God knows.

3-6-11 at 7:10 PM: Arby's is supposed to be 100% roast beef, but I'm always a little suspicious because of all that horsey sauce lying around.

3-5-11 at 3:25 PM‎"Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers." And this is exactly why every night I pray to hear Garth Brooks songs.

3-4-11 at 2:59 PMCelebrating 13 blissful years of marriage tonight. It was so awesome of our parents to allow us to get married at age 14. Cool that we had such progressive parents at the time.

3-3-11 at 5:19 PMIf I had a time machine, I would travel back to 1985 and make a movie about the the year 2011. And in that movie, Michael J. Fox would play the part of "Awesome, Handsome Teacher Abe", Charlie Sheen would be played by his father, Martin. And Gary Coleman would play the part of Justin Bieber.

3-2-11 at 4:46 PMI got a warning letter from the garbage collectors for placing a styrofoam cup in the recycling can. Thinking of tossing an entire human made out of styrofoam just to mess with them. The irony will be that I will have him holding a paper cup.

3-1-11 at 7:11 PMI guess there's been more than a genie in Christina Aguiler's bottle.

2-28-11 at 4:23 PMNo way Eclipse shouldn't have won last night for "Sound Editing" for editing out all that excess crew laughter at the dialog.

2-27-11 at 1:22 PMFingers crossed that this is the year the Oscars finally recognizes me for best costume for my Oct. 31 portrayal of "Lunch Lady"

2-26-11 at 9:13 PMI've never in my entire life typed an emoticon. So, I am attempting my very first one here on facebook for all (meaning all 15 of you that don't have me on "hide") to see. Here goes nothing -------->>>> C;/

FYI: That's me with a very large brain, winking and feeling ho-hum about watching the Weather Channel at an unreasonable hour. 

Forget it, emoticons are not for me.

2-25-11 at 4:39 PMI hope the next Middle East dictator to step down is Yogaba Gaba.

2-24-11 at 4:42 PMBoth my sons now both own a male Betta fish. AKA: Chinese Fighting Fish. No one at the pet store even questioned us purchasing two at the same time. Now I see how Michael Vick could get away with it so easily.

2-22-11 at 9:45 PMSaw an ad for the seafood at the Golden Corral. Pretty sure this is the first time I have ever got diarrhea from simply watching a commercial.

2-21-11 at 1:00 PM: Both Disney-On-Ice AND the Monster Truck rally are in town this month. They should just combine the two. "Monster Trucks on Ice!" But be sure to have your kids wear earplugs, Ariel's death screams can be a little frightening to the young ones.

2-20-11 at 5:58 PMI think you SHOULD hide your light under a bushel because it could start a bushel fire. And if there is one thing I know about bushel fires it's that they're friggen' awesome.

2-19-11 at 2:36 PM: I think an exception to the rule "Don't kill the messenger" would be killing a Singing Telegram Barbershop Quartet in a Humvee.

2-18-11 at 3:10 PMWhen I was a kid I dreamed of being a comedian. I became a teacher, which is kinda like being a comedian, except I can punish the hecklers.

*If you have not yet read my last post, "How to Comment on a Lady Blog", Be sure to scroll down and do so. It's proving to be very popular.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

How to Comment on a Lady Blog

A typical follower of the Blog O' Cheese
When my blog first went "big time"*, I made a straddling realization...

If I wanted people to comment, I may  actually have to comment on their blogs first. It was a Catch 22.  If I wanted to catch at least 22 comments, I would have to comment on at least 22 other blogs.**

The fortunate/unfortunate problem I was experiencing with blog surfing was that 90% of blogs were owned and operated by women for women.  Now, I loved getting comments, but I often was stumped as what I could write on diaper changing, GNO (Girls Now Obnoxious) and stuff having to do with periods and maximum paddings and shirtless Matthew McConkeys.  It was too much to handle.

And so, I developed a plan.  I created a set of generic comments that I could use for almost any lady blog.  I could then just scroll through my list of preset responses and copy and paste the one that best fits their current post.

Now that I have let you in on this patented*** Cheeseboy secret, I might as well share my list of comments.  Feel free to comment on THIS post using any of them that you see fit.

Cheeseboy's List of Generic Lady-Blog Comments****

 - Wow. Your kids are quite energetic.  I bet you have a hard time keeping up with them!

- So sorry for your loss.  My prayers are with you.

- Happy birthday!

- We've all had issues with our thongs every now and again. My issue is always the athletes foot, yours is a different kind of fungus.

- Didn't even realize you could do piercings there. Is that safe? How do you apply deodorant?

- My wife uses ammonia and bleach to get that kind of stain out. Always together.

- I've been to Walmart many times and that type of handsy harassment by the greeter has NEVER happened to me.

- If I were around that many giddy women for that amount of time, I'd probably shoot myself in the heart with a crossbow.

- I hate it when my hair does THAT!  But my highlights shine much more brightly at the noonday hour.

- I'd enter this giveaway, but I'm really not that interested in a Etsy shop bracelet.  Unless they are made with hemp. 

- I'd go to spin class but I fear I'd get much too dizzy. 

- Your husband is such a giant jerk!  All men are... except for me.  I am the exception.  I am like a woman, only I like woman. Well, one woman. And I'm funny. I am like Ellen Degenerous and your husband is like Charlie Sheen.

- It was a blessed day when my boys had their first crap on the potty.

So, there you have it.  A comment for every occasion.  Feel free to copy and paste mine, but add your own twist to it.  I don't want these women to come on to me.  Wait, I mean, I don't want them to catch on to me.

* By "Big Time" I mean other people worship me.  Not as "the God", but as "a God".

** Honestly, I have no idea what a Catch 22 is.

*** Not patented yet, but the paperwork has been filed. 

**** Actually, I do try and personalize each comment I make.  I do make some effort to actually prove I READ the post.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Why I don't own an iPad or an iPad 2.

The iPad was released the other day and I couldn't be more excited.  I pulled up my britches (pants) and fastened my trousers (sandals) and charted a course for our local Apple Store.

I hadn't gone but a half mile when I realized an unfortunate truth: I had no money and no hope of obtaining money.  I thought, "Well, this just ain't fair! (I think in hillbilly, but talk normally. It's a condition.) The only people that get to buy an iPad 2 are people that have money?  There should be a way for a moneyless man like me to get an iPad 2 without any money."

It was then that I realized, there was a way!

I returned home, opened my laptop and jumped into my spam folder, Facebook and Twitter.  I entered thousands upon thousands of queries and contests entitled "Win a free iPad!" That was three days ago.  I still don't have my iPad 2.  However, I do think that my identity has been stolen by a goat farmer in Naples and I've had to create a new, overflow spam folder for my spam folder.  (I'm thinking goat farmer because the other day my American Express was charged for something called "nipple clamps".)

Penniless and without any luck in the fake, online iPad contest industry, I decided to get my iPad 2 the old fashioned way: I would steal it from some punk kid.  

My plan was to hide in a bush on the side of our house.  As Junior High students would walk past our home, I would jump out with a Freddy Krueger mask on and scare them into oblivion.  Their terror would make them shake so fiercely that the contents of their backpacks would simply flop onto the sidewalk, allowing me to snag their iPod 2's and gallop jubilantly into my garage. 

It was a fail-proof plan and I would have gotten away with it too, if I could have found the Freddy Krueger mask from my 8th grade Halloween costume. It was all for naught anyway. I talked to a Junior High student a couple days ago and she assured me that most kids her age don't just have an iPad in their backpack.  Back to the drawing board. 

So I went inside and sat at my son's drawing board.  I always go back to that spot and stare at that stupid board whenever one of my fool-poof plans doesn't work out.  

As I stared at that board for the umpteenth time, I decided that my iPad plan had failed because it was a stupid idea.  I thought about what number umpteenth might be and if it was a magical number.  And then I admired the pirate ship my son had been drawing and I wondered why he had labeled the women on the ship "whores".  That concerned me a little.  He is four.

My drawing board plans were not working out to my satisfaction, so I decided it was time to start at square one. Fortunately, I have a hopscotch painted in my driveway and it was a warm day.  I went out and stood in square one for over an hour.  Eventually, a neighbor walked by and yelled, "Abe, why are you just standing there?"  I replied, "I'm trying to think of a way to get an iPad 2.  I thought I'd start at square one!" He just shook his head and laughed.  His name is George.  I've always hated George.

Everyone always says that you should start at square one, but this philosophy must have come from a square country like Australia or Mexico, where squares carry much more weight and value than in the United States. Plus, everyone always says you should think outside the box and as far as I know, square one is definitely box shaped.  

If you start at square one, you are not thinking outside the box because square one is box shaped.  I actually suggest starting at triangle two, because now you are thinking outside the box AND you have skipped square one altogether.  You are light years ahead of where you'd be if you had just started at square one.

This is a perfect example of out of the box thinking.

I don't even own a box right now.   I guess my house is a box of sorts - a box with a triangle top. My refrigerator is kind of a box too, but I never think inside my refrigerator.  Perhaps if I had thought inside my refrigerator, I could have thought of a way to get an iPad 2.  The cold would have forced me to think of something and think of something fast. Think quick... Gotta get out of this ice-cold box!

Maybe thinking inside the box is the new thinking outside of the box?  I think that some people that think outside of boxes are actually thinking, "How can I get back into that box?  If I could just get back in that box, I could think of ways to think outside of it?" If everyone on earth was thinking outside the box, wouldn't thinking inside the box be considered a lofty goal?

Do you see where I am going here?

Anyway, I have pretty much exhausted every idea I've had to get an iPad 2 and I now sit here typing this on my pathetic, boring MacBook.  So, if you'll excuse me, I need to start unloading my refrigerator.  I've got some serious thinkin' to do!

Friday, March 11, 2011


We have an apple tree in our backyard.  It's branches spread across the yard like long, twiggy, butterfly wings.  Actually, the branches are nothing like butterfly wings.  Perhaps more like bat wings?  Or Batman's wings. The point here is that the branches stretch.

The apples are always falling from that blasted tree.  No one eats the apples. We don't spray the tree and every apple has a worm.  That tree is a worm hotel.  Not a Motel 6, but more like a Howard Johnson or Best Western.  You know, a real classy worm hotel joint with a mini kitchen and the non-pornographic worm Showtime channels.

Every fall I have to go out and pick up the gushy, disease-ridden apples off the ground and put them in a plastic bag.  I feel badly because no Howard Johnson should go out like that; it's not fair, even for a two star Howard Johnson. I pick them up anyway. It's the kinda thing husbands that are still married do.  

We've since built a little tree house in that apple tree.  It has a slide and a steering wheel - the classic tree house paraphernalia.  I was hoping the tree house would kill the apples, but they still grow.  They grow and fall and grow and fall.  It's a cyclical thing, almost like it is seasonal. I just don't get it.

Every fall I enact my revenge.  I take that bag of glunky, worm-infested apples and I swing it above my head in a fit of rage.  I then throw the worthless sack with all of my might at the trunk of the tree and yell, "HOW'D YOU LIKE THEM APPLES, PUNK?!"

*Cheeseboy creativity and energy levels have sunk to new lows.  My apologies.  

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Awkward Meeting Between that Guy 127 Hours was Based After and the One-Armed Drummer from Def Leppard

- Hello sir.

- Hello.

- I'd shake your hand but, well... you know...

- Right.

- We could hook hooks?

- Yeah, I am really not comfortable with that.

- How bout we bump shoulders?

- Not comfortable with that either.

[awkward pause]

- You're that guy from that movie, right? The dude that cut off his own arm?

- Yep.

- You really sucked it up on the Oscars, you know.

- That wasn't me.  That was James Franco.

- I was wondering why his hand looked so real.

[awkward pause]

- So, you're the drummer for Def Leppard, right?

- Yep.  That's me.

- Amazing how you can drum so well with one arm.

- Well, you're still mountain climbing, right?

- Yeah, but I had to give up my dream of becoming an OBGYN.

- Oh.  Wow.  Well, I suppose that is in the best interest of women.  And babies.

[awkward pause]

- How did you lose your arm?

- Car wreck.

- That bites.

-  No, Love Bites.

- What?

- Nevermind.

[awkward pause]

- Well, I probably should get going.  It was nice meeting you.

- Yeah, me too.  You parked close?

- As close as it gets.

- Me too.

- Hey, we have something in common!

- Really?...  Really?

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

At the Pope's Used Car Lot

-  ... and over here we have the Mercedes.  It is three years old, but only has 800 miles on it.  And most of that is parade milage.

- It's got that big plastic box on the back of it again.  Every car you've shown us has that big plastic box.

- Alright, alright.  I'll let you in on a little secret.  And I don't just tell everyone this: The Pope sat in there!

- Like the Pope Pope?

- Yep, Pope Pope. The one and only.

- Which one?

- One of the dead ones, I think.  One of the Benedicts, John Pauls, or maybe it was a Ringo?

- Wow. Did he die in there?

- No. No.  So what do you say?  Wanna take this baby for a spin?

- Look, we're Presbyterian.  We're not really interested.  Lets go, hun.

- Hold on.  Hold on!  Let me ask you: What's it gonna take to get you behind the wheel of this Pope-Mobile today?

- Well... we... we just wouldn't feel comfortable.

- Is it the whole dead Pope thing?

- Yeah, kinda.

- Well, let me ask you this: Do you like fish?

- Sure.  Yeah, we like fish.

- I'm thinking traveling aquarium.  It'll impress the neighbors.

- Um...

- I'll fill it up with water and even throw in a couple free guppies.

- Really, we're good. And look, we've got to go.  Our sitter is waiting.

- Hold up, hold up.  You all have KIDS?!

- Yeah.

- And they probably sit in the back seat, right?

- Yes.  Of course.

- Are they always screaming at each other and pinching each other, driving you nuts and stuff?

- Yep. How did you...

- Just a gut feeling.  Let me tell you something.  That plastic box - it's soundproof.  You can just stick them back there and they can have at it.  You will be none the wiser.  And check this out - cup holders!  The Pope used them to put his sunflower shells in.  And this baby's safe too.  Here, take this gun and shoot at that plastic box.

                                             - BANG! - 

- Wow, that's incredible?  What is that made of?

- The same substance the FBI uses to make it's Tupperware.  It was developed by top-secret Catholic Tupperware scientists.

[Whispering: Really impressive. What do you think, honey?]

- Is there somewhere we can go and talk?

- Of course, of course. We'll use Father Mulcahy's office.  Right this way...