My application for cruise ship employment.

I've often considered alternative professions, just in case this whole teaching thing didn't work out. I've thought about becoming a ventriloquist for the blind (the easiest kind of ventriloquism) or a used car lot salesman (specializing in the sell of actual used car lots, not used automobiles).

However, if in fact this whole teaching thing goes to pot (which it may, as pot has become the prevalent choice of burnt out teachers) someday, I do have a plan B that I am thrilled about: Cruise Ship Ice Sculpting (A craft I fell in love with on the '99 Spirit of Carnival maiden voyage) In the spirit of over-preparedness, I have already developed a resume on the very likely chance that I someday obtain an interview with a Carnival Cruise Director.

RESUME OF:
Cheeseboy, Sophisticated Philosophant Extraordinaire

OBJECTIVE:
To obtain a position in the charm induced, high paced world of Cruise Ship Ice Sculpting.

EXPERIENCE WITH ICE:

• Family ice block hill sliding championship 3 years running.
• Installed line for self serve ice machine in the refrigerator.
• Use ice frequently to cool drinks - expert in the field of the 7-11 ice machine.
  
• Sound foundational knowledge of the properties of ice and how to make it.
• Over 11,000 ice cubes made in my freezer over my lifetime.
  

EXPERIENCE WITH CARVING:

• Over 39 sharp sticks carved over my lifetime.
• 1989 wood carving merit badge recipient.
• Ability to carve a bar of soap into a much smaller bar of soap.
• Watched 'Groundhog Day' 8 times.
• Extreme chainsaw moxie.

CRUISE SHIP EXPERIENCE:

• Two time cruise ship participant. ('99, '00)
• Passed required lifejacket test both times. (But just barely in '00 due to a whistle malfunction)
• Karaoke champion in '99. (Neil Diamond Division)

OTHER RELATED SKILLS:

• 1 year marshal arts training. Self taught.
• Optimistic by nature
  
• Magician (Total of 2 card tricks)
  
• Attacked by swan (non-ice)
• Type 70 WPM.
  

A Q&A with the Cheeseboy ("Q&A" stands for "Question and Answers". I know this because I looked it up)

I will often get emails from across the land regarding the mysterious man known only as "Cheeseboy". I've given a few much thought in the ways of thinking and such and have thus decided to answer a few on this day.

From Beatrice Junnison of Harlotton Township, Georgia:
Q: Who are some of your life heroes?

A: Well, of course there is Ricky Martin and Clay Aiken for having the courage to announce what we all knew ten years ago.

But really, I'd say the first guy that ever put in contact lenses has to be my number 1 hero. Back then, the contacts were made of actual glass. What if someone handed you a small piece of glass and told you to stick it in your eye because it would make you see better; and no one else had tried it?

To me, that is the very definition of "hero". My hats off to you, Mr. First Contact Lense Man.

From Sherman Hopeswattle of Heartyback, Virginia:
Q: Which celebrity male does your wife find most attractive?

A: I am a little perturbed at your line of questioning, Mr. Hopeswattle. In fact, your overly personal inquiry has me wanting to hunt you down with my John Locke knives and... ask your wife that same question. How would it make you feel? My wife's fake love interests are none of your business and I hold them in the highest degree of confidentiality.

However, while we are on the subject, she once told me she found Ben Stiller to be attractive, which actually explains a lot about her attraction to me. Either she has a thing for freakishly hairy, awkward Jewish guys OR she falls for the funny man. I have a feeling it is actually a combination of both.

However, this theory does not explain her other celebrity crush, Patrick Swayze. He was neither funny, hairy or Jewish. What did that guy have going for him anyway?

I've got it! My wife falls for men that are: 1. freakishly hairy, awkward Jewish guys OR 2. funny men OR 3. guys that can dance. I am a wickedly whimsical dancer. (I'm sort of a combination of Usher and 'The Nard Dog'. Definitely more of the Andy Bernard than Usher though)

From Shaunita Sloppingpants of Carney, California:
Q: How do you stay in such great shape?

A: I mix up my routine. Besides jogging, I do a lot of kegels while I watch tv. ("Kegels" is when you sit on the couch and flex your back while you watch TV, right? Dang, I started watching that Dr. Oz at just a minute or two too late)

Besides the jogging and the daily kegels, I also stay limber by daily light saber fights with my First Graders and swinging on the rope in the gym.

As far as my diet goes, I am able to maintain my stomach mass by supplementing water with large amounts of Pepsi and Mt. Dew. I also sit almost constantly on my couch, which really works the buttocks. So between the kegels and the buttock sitting, I could probably almost cut out the jogging all together.

From Kelvin H. Samhawer of Franklin, Idaho:
Q: Is that cartoon man in your header an exact likeness of you?

A: Why yes, yes it is. I look exactly like that.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my kegel exercises. Remarkably, I find that they also do wonders for my dancing!

Happy Birthday Calder!

Happy Birthday to my favorite 4 year old CALDER!

Here he is with his older brother the other day, playing "beauty shop hair" with is mom. Perhaps my proudest moment as a father! So glad I walked in on THIS. Ugh. I asked if they wanted to go toss the ball around in the back awhile, but they were to engulfed in the salon business.

Do people think we are poor or is it just magical furniture unicorns? A mystery to be sure.

About 6 months ago, we returned from Saint George (named after the patron saint "George" who was known for his infinite wisdom in the ways of strip malls and long lines at the In and Out Burger), to find this on our front porch.















An old, rusty stove and a torn living chair.

A loving gift from someone that cares?
Was our front porch mistaken for a Deseret Industries drop off point?
How poor do people think we are?
A twisted prank by a neighborhood prank pervert?
Did my stalker finally buy the furniture she promised me?
Perhaps an RC Willey truck full of old, crappy furniture was accidentally left open and the furniture happened to roll onto our porch in perfect position?
Could it be that an illiterate used furniture salesman thought our "Ute fans live here" sign hanging from our mailbox actually said "Leave torn furniture on porch"?
Maybe some homeless people set up shop on our porch for a couple days and left us a thank you gift?
Does someone have an evil vendetta against a kindhearted First Grade teacher?
I think there is a fairly good chance that they filmed the garbage scene from Avatar on our front porch and forgot to take the garbage. (Was there a garbage scene in Avatar or am I thinking of the whole movie?)
Or perhaps the magical furniture unicorns simply dumped them there?





















Discarding the items was easily. We simply placed them on a neighbor's porch that was out of town.

Figuring out how they they ended up on the porch is the real. challenge.

Any ideas out there in comment land?

Song of the Day: Throw Me The Statue - Hi-Fi Goon

This particular band, in which they ask for a statue to be tossed to them for some unknown reason, released an album last year that has been on my most played list for months now.

If you enjoy Band of Horses or Pedro the Lion, you will most likely enjoy a ditty or two from Throw Me The Statue. I pre-apologize for the grotesque elephant dung in the video.

3 ways to have a happy marriage while maintaining your lazy lifestyle.

I am not a smart man. In fact, I am a legal idiot in 28 out of the 53 states (including Guam).

Despite my idiotocracies and boneheadedness, I have figured out a thing or two about maintaining a happy marriage while remaining lazy. In actuality, Ihave figured a few schemes that will ultimately allow you to keep your beloved wife happy with very little work.

NOTE: I wrote these three suggestions with husbands in mind. However, after rereading them, I have realized that they would work just as well for the wives. Also, to you wives out there, I say to you - I have given some insight into the mind and ways of the man. If you call your husband on one of these disgusting behaviors, please - you did not hear it here!

NOTE II: I realize that by sharing these 3 secrets, I am effectively ending my ability to use them with my own wife. I do this as a favor to you, my loyal readers. You may thank me in the comments.

1. The toilet paper roll.

I hate replacing that darned thing. Sometimes I have to do that waddle over to the sink and grab a new package. This is a dismal experience. However, at the same time, I hate catching grief from my wife when I leave just the cardboard tube without replacing it. A 'Catch 22' to be sure.

Rule: Always leave at least five squares on the roll. If that means using only one square to wipe, so be it. Just ensure that the one square you use is a strong square. By following this rule of thumb, you will never have to replace a roll or hear about how you left only the cardboard center. (By "rule of thumb" I did not mean to imply that you would be needing to use your thumb to follow this rule. Also, it's always a good rule of thumb to specify if a thumb is actually needed in your rule of thumb)

2. The package of Oreos.

It's hard not to want to eat the last of the Oreos, but if you do, that means that you will have to make this whole other trip all the way to the garbage can to throw away the trash. (In my house, that is at least 20 feet!) Leave it in the cupboard and you will most certainly hear, "What kind of person eats all the Oreos and just leaves the garbage?" Or, "What kind of person eats all the Oreos and just leaves one left?" You don't want to be that kind of person. Your wife would have never married that kind of person!

Rule: Always leave at least 3 Oreos in the package. I know you will be tempted eat those last three, but have some self control man! Don't do it. It will only bring you grief. (I suppose you could just throw away the empty package, but that brings us back to the long walk to the garbage can)

3. Underwear.

I actually picked up this hint from a female teacher I work with, but it has worked wonders for me.

If you are a lazy jerk - such as I - you hate to do laundry. But there is a simple fix that will allow you to never have to do laundry again...

Rule: Always own one more pair of underwear than your spouse. When laundry day comes, you are good for another day. Your spouse, however, will HAVE to do the laundry if they want fresh drawers in the morning. It's foolproof.

Cheeseboy's Guide to Overcoming Awkward Social Situations: Volume 2 - The Athletic Event Double Date

Welcome class to our next topic of learning and discussion. Take your seats for today I will focus on how to avoid embarrassing awkwardness while on a double date at an athletic event. (Wives, be sure to sit next to each other. You'll learn why in just a moment)

I know many of you are wondering what kind of awkwardness could exist at a sporting event. Well, let me ask you a couple important questions:

1. HAVE YOU GIVEN ANY CONSIDERATION AT ALL TO THE SEATING ARRANGEMENT?
2. HAVE YOU GIVEN ANY CONSIDERATION AT ALL TO THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE SEATING?!

I realize that those two questions are one and the same. However, I felt that it needed to be repeated as to emphasize the significance of this potentially cumbersome state of affairs.

With the help of some graphs I created on graphjam.com, lets take a look at some of the options:

Option 1 - The husband, wife, husband, wife pattern.

This is by far the worst possible configuration of people imaginable for this situation. However, it is the most common folly I see people make. Lets take under consideration that 95% of wives could care less about the actual game itself and that many will pretend to like to go under the false pretense of: "I enjoy people watching." Yeah right!

ANYWAY, using this seating pattern, what ends up happening is:

1) Wife A and Wife B are extremely bored. 2) Husband A and Husband B are forced to give each other high fives across Wife A and in her face. 3) Husband B then feels obligated to give a very awkward high five to Wife A. 4) Wife B completely gets left out of the high fiving.

PEOPLE: Think about this before you casually sit down. This works for nobody!





Option 2 - Wife A and Wife B move to the middle to chat, while Husbands A and B are relegated to the ends.

Yes, this solves all of the problems that option A presents, however, it brings up two new problems:

1) Husband A and husband B are now yelling at each other from afar after a great game. 2) High fives are nearly impossible. Husband A and Husband B are not going to reach all the way across two women to high five. AND the responsibility to start the wave of high fives is upon the inside person's head. Women are not going to spontaneously start high fiving - especially when they're in a deep discussion about how The Bachelor is a jerk.

No, Option 2 is a guaranteed failure, especially for the husbands. Moving from Option A to Option B will only make things worse.





Option 3 - Husbands move together and sit in a pair and wives move together and sit in a pair.

It's the perfect solution really. Everyone is happy, right?

- Wrong! -

Two problems:

1) Some wives feel this moral obligation that they HAVE to sit by their husbands at all times and Husband A is clearly not next to his wife which obviously means he is either unfaithful or is holding a grudge. 2) Husband B still has to overhear the ridiculous conversation about the floozies on 'The Bachelor' and what they did in the hot tub. (Not time machine this time)



Option 4 - Same as option 3 EXCEPT there is a buffer chair between them. (Unfortunately, ONLY an option at Utah basketball games and other sparsely attended events)

Yes, if both wives are able to swallow their pride (good luck with that) and allow their husband's to sit by themselves, this is the most ideal situation. Husbands can high five and rejoice together. Wives can wallow in 'The Bachelor' mud until their skin falls off. Neither have to hear each other speak and the wives don't have to participate in those dorky looking high fives that wives do.

IF the wives can suck it up (again, good luck with that) and sit by themselves, I can see only two potential problems:

1) Many at the event might consider your wives a couple. 2) Your wives might change the topic from 'The Bachelor' to "Let's plot to murder our husbands for abandoning us at this basketball game.

Problem 1 I can live with. Problem 2 - I don't live.

So, there you have it. Your second lesson on overcoming life's awkwardness. Husbands, after rereading my advice, might I suggest forgoing options 3 and 4 and sticking with option 2? You'll be a better man for it. And alive.

You're welcome.

P.S. - To the two Syracuse fans that flew all the way from Syracuse to Salt Lake to see your team get upset by the Butler Bulldogs, and were CRYING after the game, I say to you: I DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR YOU! Your team won a championship 6 years ago. (I am NOT kidding, they were really crying) But, to the 8 year old Syracuse boy that was crying as he left the stadium, I say: I DO feel sorry for you.

And thank you Kansas State and Xavier for one of the greatest games I have ever personally witnessed.

And thank you - two wives that sat on my right. I learned more about 'The Bachelor' at a basketball game, than in all my other years of life. I thought it was great when, with five minutes left in the first game and the crowd going crazy, you looked up and asked, "Who's playing?!" Best $65 your husband ever spent.

There is no crying in 'The Biggest Loser"! (Or is it, "there is ONLY crying in 'The Biggest Loser'"?)

My wife is on a 'Biggest Loser' loop-di-loop and it seems that I am the reluctant bozo that gets dragged along on the ride. It's worse than being stuck on "The Bat".

For those that don't know, The Biggest Loser is...

Who am I kidding; you know what The Biggest Loser is. (Unless, of course, your television has been auctioned off for extra World of Warcraft Blue Mt. Dew)

We watch all 6 1/2 hours per week on NBC. I should clarify... My wife watches 6 1/2 hours. I spend 4 of those hours with my laptop and the other 2 1/2 cringing. It's not just NBC's insistence of showing the lumpy spandex, man boobs and other sweaty knobs (Allow these people some dignity... please!) that should not be seen in prime time, or at any time for that matter.

The thing that really gets to me is the crying. It is almost constant through all 6 1/2 hours. They whimper and grieve about almost everything.

I am sure that 95% of the weight they lose is simply through tears. I read that you can cry up to 80% of your water weight in a single sitting.

Here's a typical episode.

"Well then do it Joelle. Stop saying all these words, quit talking. I'm sick of just words, words, words, talk , talk , talk. Shut up! Just do it. Just stop talking and do it."

Tears drop slowly to floor.

"I know it's hard and I know it hurts. But you can do it."

Sniff sniff. I can't. Sniff.

"Unless You Puke, Faint or Die, Keep Going!"

Shut up Jilian! Everyone knows you used to be a man.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

[Weeping] You are so cruel Julian.

"You just look at a bagel and your butt gets bigger!"

Really? I do like bagels. Sniff.

"Let's see, how can I describe the last chance workout,...Beatings, beatings, beatings, beatings, beatings, beatings, beatings, beatings, .... And when we're done with that, ... some more Beatings!!"

Snort. Grunt. Sob. Sob.

"I believe in you, so why don't you believe in yourself?"

Because I'm weak! I'm weak and I am weak. Slobber.

"Every time you lay down, I'm gonna think, 'Dead Father.' "

Why are you so mean? I - sniff - just want to live!

"That's 476 reasons why I'm here!"

That is so touching. I can't stop crying. Everything touches me. I'm on the ranch. The ranch makes me cry.

"I'm sorry to say, you are not the Biggest Loser".

That's it. Can you die of over-weep-ation? These are my friends. MY FRIENDS!

The Talking Toilet (The Chapter Book) - by a First Grader in my class.

Alright... I know I just posted a first grade story a bit back, but this one had me laughing harder than I have in a long time.

This is a different girl in my class. I knew the topic she had chosen for the "Talented Young Writers" competition, however, I have not seen the final product until just today. I promise you, I have not changed a single word of this story. It is, in a word: AMAZING!


About the Author:
My name is (Make up your own female first grade name) My family is a ball of joy and this family of mine is pretty great. Here is a hint of where I live: Utah. But right now it feels like it's warm now. You want to know a little something about me, I am a great friend and a great student in school.



THE TALKING TOILET (THE CHAPTER BOOK)
Vs. 2

Chapter 1
The Lost Toilet

Once there was a gross talking toilet. It was really mean. He came from Idaho. He didn't enjoy Idaho. He ate raw meat and he loved it a lot. One day the talking toilet ran away from home. The kids looked all around the house.

Chapter 2
Pretty Toilet

But then... they found the jackpot! This toilet had diamonds and gems. It was so pretty that they had to go into the bathroom and sit on the toilet. When they were done, they washed their gross hands. Then they got to blow bubbles outside for a half hour. After that they went back to work They finally found the toilet. The toilet said, "Hi! How are you doing?", he said cheerfully. The talking toilet went back to the bathroom.

Chapter 3
The Toilet Strikes Again

After he went to the bathroom, he got a potty water break. He likes potty water a lot. Then he got a new puppy. The puppy did not like him at all.

Chapter 4 (last chapter)
Bad Puppy!

Later that day, he loved his cute puppy so far. He went back to the gross bathroom. But then he felt sick inside. That he was going to die fully soon. But then he went back to his gross bathroom and he died.

The end.
_______________________________________________________________

There is so much that is funny about this story, I don't even know where to begin. But here are a couple things.

• Vs.?? She must read a lot of scriptures at home.
• You should see the computer drawing she did to go along with the story. It is a stick figure, sitting on a toilet on the top of a hill. Also, for some reason, there is a Utah State flag flying next to her. Not an American flag. A Utah State flag.
• I liked her "hint" of where she lives. As if I couldn't tell by the giant Utah State flag.
  
• Her family is a "ball of joy"! Awesome.
  

ENTER THE FIRST EVER BLOG O' CHEESE GIVEAWAY!

The Cheese Blog is proud to announce my first ever GIVEAWAY today!

You see, I've been perusing various blogs and it seems that all the big-time ones have these giveaway things.

The Blog O' Cheese will not sit idly by and be considered second rate. I have therefore scoured the house and found some very valuable stuff for my first ever giveaway because I appreciate you - the loyal and friendly viewers. (Note: Giveaway stuff had to be pre-approved by wife)

This first item is an opened 12 pack of something called "Mt. Dew World of Warcraft". It is utterly disgusting. I mean, beyond bad. Bear Grills wouldn't drink this stuff if he found it in the desert and I've seen him eat berries out of bear dung.

I opened a can and it was BRIGHT BLUE! Like the color of radiator fluid. (Is that stuff bright blue? I am not good with cars)

There are 7 cans left. Even though this stuff is filled with radiation, I still drank 5 cans. However, I now have an extra bright blue elbow growing out of the side of my stomach.

Yes, I am a little ashamed that I drank 5 cans of this nasty crap.

This seven pack of Mt Dew Blue World of Warcraft can be yours in the first ever Cheeseboy giveaway!

The other giveaway item I am giving away to one extremely lucky reader is this much beloved children's toy. It's an "I'm a Little Bit Country, I'm a Little Bit Rock and Roll" Elmo doll. You and your family will be serenaded over, and over, and over, and over again by Elmo singing this Osmond classic.

The best part about this giveaway treat is that no matter how well hid from your kids it is, they always seem to find it.

This singing Donny Elmo can be yours in the first ever Cheeseboy giveaway!

So, I know what you are thinking: HOW DO I WIN?!

Simple, just leave a comment and you will be entered!!!

**If you don't want to be entered, you can still leave a comment and I will only put those that express interest in their comment into the drawing. The drawing will be conducted on Thursday and will be watched closely by a accountant team from Morris, Phister and Jacobsondryskin.

*Winners will be required to arrange delivery.
** Nevermind.. winners will actually have to come pick up the crap.
*** Winners will have to be here between the hours of 6:00 - 7:00 MST to get their crap. It will be on the back porch.
****Elmo doll is already on the back porch. Whoever comes and gets it first can just have the blasted thing.

Time traveling has so many choices nowadays. But, I may just have to go with the hot tub.

According to the movies, I have many options for my time traveling needs. In fact, this weekend I have been given the new, intriguing method of... the hot tub!

"Hot Tub Time Machine!" Interested? Raise your hand... That's what I thought. Nobody. Except those perverted 15 year old boys in the corner. Put your hands down boys - you are NOT getting into the theater.

Now "Snakes on a Plane" was an awful movie title, but "Hot Tub Time Machine"?! That takes the cake. And by "takes the cake" I mean a hot tub went back in time and STOLE some cake! Stupid hot tubs and their time travel) Now, combine the two movies and you have "Snakes in a Hot Tub Time Machine". Now there's something that I would want to sink my teeth into. (Not literally as hot tubs are generally made of some sort of very hard fiberglass stuff)

ANYWAY, in honor of this future Oscar nominated movie (most likely "Best Screenplay", but perhaps "Best Actor" for John Cusack), I give you the pros and cons of various Hollywood time travel... just in case you were considering taking a trip.

The Deloreon (Back to the Future)

Pros:
1. Comfortable leather seating.
2. AM/FM Radio
3. Amazing breakaway speed from terrorists in black vans.

Cons:
1. Tires catch on fire very easily.
2. Bruises from hitting your head on those fold-out doors.
3. Fuel is very expensive and hard to find.

The Phone Booth (Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure)

Pros:
1. Built in phone.
2. New phone booth scent is delightful.
3. Tall ceilings.

Cons:
1. Phone costs coins.
2. There are no phone booths anymore.
3. Booth sometimes has a draft.











Being stuck on a time traveling island. (Lost)

Pros:
1. Beautiful views.
2. Great beachfront property.
3. Kate wears tank tops a lot.

Cons:
1. Bloody noses.
2. Brain hemorrhages.
3. Hurley eats all the food.




Having a gene that makes you time travel. (The Time Traveler's Wife)

Pros:
1. You are beloved by housewives everywhere.
2. You get to kiss your wife at different stages of her life.
3. You know when you are going to die.

Cons:
1. You are despised by husbands everywhere.
2. Every time you time travel, you end up naked.
3. It is very creepy when you time travel to visit your future wife when she is 7.

The Hot Tub Time Machine

Pros:
1. It's hot.
2. Bubbles
3. Jets

Cons:
1. You have no idea who used the hot tub last.
2. Floating used band-aides.
3. Chevy Chase is in the hot tub with you.

Silly first graders and their overwhelming fear of IDENTITY THEFT!

I narrowly escaped a First Grade identity theft CATASTROPHE today!

My illustrious, gifted and slobbery first grade class have been writing stories (for example, sometimes about a mysterious place known only as "The Wild") for a district wide "Talented Young Writers" competition. As part of this competition, they are required to write an "About the Author" page.

As I was attempting to explain what constitutes an About the Author page, the following conversation broke out between the class and I (Or should it be "myself and the class? Really, should I be allowed to teach grammar to young kids?!):

Girl: So you want us to put stuff about ourselves on here?

Mr. Cheeseboy: Yep. (Thinking: "Isn't that what we just talked about for the last half hour?)

Girl: Like what again?

Mr. Cheeseboy: We discussed that, Miss "girl student of unnamed distinction". You need to write your full name, where you live, how many brothers and sisters you have, things you like to do... stuff like that.

Girl: I know, but my mom said I should never give anyone my PERSONAL INFORMATION!

Mr. Cheeseboy: [laughing] You don't need to worry. No one will see these.

Girl: I thought you said that these were going to be in a contest?

Mr. Cheeseboy: They are. But you really don't need to worry. It will be okay.

Boy speaks up: Yeah, because my mom said you are only not supposed to give out information "in line".

Mr. Cheeseboy: In line?

Boy: Yeah, on the computer.

Mr. Cheeseboy: Well, you don't need to worry because these won't be on the computer.

Different Girl: Didn't you say that we would be typing them on the computer when we are done?

Mr. Cheeseboy: Yes, but we won't put them on the internet.

Different Boy: If it's on the computer, then it is on the internet.

Mr. Cheeseboy: Not really. But we don't need to worry about that because it is okay because we can trust the people that will be reading your stories.

First Girl: Do you know them?

Mr. Cheeseboy: No.

Girl: My mom says you are not supposed to trust strangers with your personal information. (She could not stop saying "personal information". Her mother must totally ingrained this in her brain.)

Mr. Cheeseboy: Yes, but I will be trusting them, not you. So don't worry.

Girl: Well, I don't want the strangers to see my personal information.

Mr. Cheeseboy: Well, just don't put anything REALLY important. Just write what kind of animal you like or your favorite color and stuff like that.

Girl: Is that stuff 'personal information'?

Mr. Cheeseboy: I'm going to say no, not really.

Girl: But my favorite animal... It IS IMPORTANT!

Mr. Cheeseboy: - sigh - [mixed with laughter] Well, what DO you want to put on your "About the Author" page?

Girl: Just my picture. Not my name or anything. So the strangers won't know who I am.

Mr. Cheeseboy: But they will know what you look like, right?

Girl: Well, in my picture, I will wear a brown wig. (She is blond)

Mr. Cheeseboy: Alright fine. Good plan.

The end. Identity theft narrowly escaped.

- phew -

Song of the Day: Vampire Weekend - Cousins

Can't wait for this evening when I will be seeing these guys live. I am so enamored with this group, I am attempting to grow my hair to match the lead singer, Ezra Koenig's. Another month and I shall have it, I think.

VAMPIRE WEEKEND TONIGHT!

A St. Patrick's Day Miracle!

Teachers HATE St. Patrick's Day.

{Pinch}

Yep, it is really here.

When my first grade students arrive on this blessed day, I lay down some very basic, yet vital pinching ground rules:

1. There will be NO PINCHING!
2. I don't care if they are not wearing green, THERE WILL BE NO PINCHING!
3. If there are any questions, refer to rules 1 & 2.

- This never works -

By 10:00 my rug is soaked with the tears of 7-year-olds. It seems, they always find a perceived loophole.

"They said I wasn't wearing green, but I had it on my underwear!" [Kid then proceeds to give themselves a wedgie by pulling their underwear up over their jeans to prove it to me while I stand and cringe]

Today was a St. Patrick's Day miracle! In the morning, a dad came and blew up some Diet Coke with some Mentos (NOW, THAT NEVER GETS OLD!) and we then went a field trip. No one even had a chance to pinch or be pinched. I was amazed.

Now, what kind of sick, twisted Irish tradition is this that kids start bruising each other for no other reason except they may or may not be wearing the color green?! Upon doing some further research, I discovered the following:

The act of pinching on St. Patrick's day began in America with Irish settlers who tried to get their kids to behave by telling them that fairies would come pinch them.

The first question I have is obvious:

WHY WOULD THESE DOGS START THIS TRADITION AND HOW DO THEY PINCH WITHOUT THUMBS?! AND WHO LISTENS TO DOGS?

Secondly -

Pinching fairies? Every fairy I have ever known sprinkles glittery dust or gives you money... AND that includes Richard Simmons! (But he still owes me.)

The tests came back and I am officially a victim of alleycat brutality.

Today I was victimized by an stray alley cat.

AND LET ME LEAD OFF BY SAYING - I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP! AN ALLEY CAT ATTACKED ME WITH IT'S CLAWS OF DEATH!

This afternoon, I put on my jogging gear and headed for the hills: the Nikes, silky shirt, shorts, but no underwear - due to the painful chafing that accompanies them. (Another post for another blog for another day)

Oh, and by "hills", I mean Murray Park - the perfect joggers destination. Except, apparently, for the alley cat problem and the invisible, tattooed drug lords.

I was taking a short cut, next to an abundant pine tree, when I glanced down at my iPod. For some shockingly abhorrent reason, a "Dr. Jean and Friends" song came on while in "random" mode.

I HATE when my school music gets mixed in with my iTunes music. It's like watching a Utah football game and then it is suddenly interrupted with Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. Oh wait... THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED ONCE! Well, it sucks ALMOST as bad as that.

ANYWAY, while glancing down, I clumsily brushed up against the pine tree and to my chagrin (is chagrin a good thing?), I was viciously attacked by a raging lunatic feline.

My leg was wounded. Badly. Bloodied, in fact. Badly bloodied and bruised by a buffoon of a bobcat. (See photo below, but not yet...)

I kinda, sorta, kicked away the attack puma and hobbled away as if I was filming a scene in "Saving Private Ryan".

Now, I am not sure, but if you live in Utah and looked out your window today, you may have noticed it is pretty stinkin' nice out there. And so it was, on this - the 16th day of March 2010, that I was officially laughed at by two grown women walking the park in their capri stretchy pants and pullover tops.

An official Cheeseboy humiliation.

When I returned home, sweaty and beaten, I immediately showed my wife the wound and spoke ill will towards the blood ravaged kitty. My wife's response was typical: "You are SO weird!" Followed by, "This could only happen to you." And then she laughed and laughed, like I was a brain-dead, prop person on "Fear Factor".

Here are my battle wounds. Please pay specific attention to the muscuality of my thighs and not the jewfro that adorns them. And you think this is bad, you don't want to see what happened to that stupid cat!*

























*The cat actually escaped with no harm.