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. 

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 >>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. 

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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