The Cheeseblog

The GATS is watching snowmobiling and there was just that commmercial with the guy and the toe-tag where he’s making a posthumous list of Things To Do and the last thing on his list is GET RIGHT WITH GOD and that’s really weird when it just shines out at you from across the street on a Saturday morning. Kind of like that sign on Highway 1 East right before you go into the mountains & come out in Hope and the sign says “Prepare to meet God.”

OK. Check.

Also, he needs to put a shirt on. Confidential to: The GATS, cc to: Th’internet – you should get out more and do some of those sports you enjoy watching.

MeOW!

Today we are going to buy some shorts. Coincidentally, there was a commercial on my own TV for Old Navy Bermuda Shorts and they (the people in the commercial) were singing and dancing to FAME! but singing SHORTS! which is cute but the shorts, alas, are ugly and would look good on approximately 2% of the world’s people. Also they (the shorts) look like pants that got their legs cut off so just do it yourself and save yourself the hassle.

Cheesefairy’s fashion tips! Spring has sprung: cut off your pants!

I’ve no reason to be here. Till later.
XO Cheesefairy

I guess it’s true that real supermodels are not so super because of just their looks because after one episode of America’s Next Top Oh My God I Just Met Tyra! and a quick boo at these pictures of the contestants, I could not for the life of me pick a winner or even refer to one of those girls as modelly goodness without seeing a little personality to go with the pouty face.

That said, I can tell you that the professional wrestler won’t get far.

The Italian Calendar of Doom said “C’e stato un terremoto.” That means: There was an earthquake. Call that your early warning & get under your desk.

I am listening to radio paradise and I heard a song I liked (Suzanne is Perfect by David Hopkins) so I went & looked at the page with all the info about it and I saw something called “String Quartet Tribute to Norah Jones,” so I clicked on it and then there was a whole PAGE of String Quartet Tribute albums staring me in the face. Including a tribute to Evanescence.

1. What’s up with THAT? 2. Does Evanescence need a tribute? Won’t it just encourage them?

It reminds me of the “Pan Pipes Play Queen” album that Saint Aardvark picked up back when we used to shop at Hell, I mean, Liquidation World? I mean, I don’t remember, but we really do own a copy of “Pan Pipes Play Queen.” Lessee, whose birthday is next…

Tonight I found blog ideas, which gives you ideas to, uh, blog about. Here goes.

• Alternate uses for crayons.

sealing wax
stick them up your nose at a wedding
colouring on your fingernails after you’ve painted them with white-out
you can eat them but they don’t taste good
melt them into a large, piller candle and enjoy the pretty colours.
suppository, I guess.

• 3 things on my desk that I adore.

My homies. There are three homies; a basketball-playing homie, a fat gangsta homie and a cop writing the other two homies a ticket. And a small red Ferrari. The fat gangsta homie stole the Ferrari, see, and then he was going to get the basketball-playing homie and they were going to pretend to be rich and try and get into a cool club. But the cop got them first.

That’s my home desk. My work desk has all the lip gloss.

• Reality TV: what gives?

Fuck off. Reality TV rules.

• Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours.

Reality TV.

• If I die today.. How would it happen?

By sticking something sharp in my left ear with such force that it goes right through my brain. I would be trying to gouge out my ears on account of the fact they’re plugged, but it would go horribly awry, as it does. (A lot like the movie called “Beat,” where Kiefer Sutherland plays William S. Burroughs and Courtney Love plays [surprise!] his doomed but loyal wife. Oh and the guy from Office Space plays Allen Ginsberg. OUCH! What’s that sticky stuff running down my face?)

(Or CBC Radio 1. Awry, that is.) At first it was Rick Cluff, but now it is also Priya Ramu who chafes my nards. They are the bookends of my day, the nard-chafing bookend twins. And they have not stopped there, they are not content merely to chafe my nards but must take it two steps further and actually kick me repeatedly in my nards. There’s a goddamn two weeks ahead of us, people, of programming especially about the waterfront. Ready? It’s called Think Vancouver: Think Waterfront. It has theme music that sounds like Enya on Quaaludes. And it’s not limited to the radio. The CBC local news tonight was broadcasting from the aquarium and the only good thing the ONLY GOOD THING about this was the sea otters. I love sea otters.

The thing about Priya Ramu is, she thinks she knows everything already. I mean, if you’re on a live broadcast, unless you’re a Crazy Rebel, you should never ask a question you don’t sort of have an idea of the answer to, but you shouldn’t sound like a snotty Betsy-knows-it-all-doll either. And her tone puts people off so all her interviews end up with this slightly aggressive feel to them and you don’t catch flies with vinegar, Priya, you need some sugar in your bowl. Doesn’t everyone at the CBC have to listen to Peter Gzowski interviews before they go to sleep, all tucked in at CBC Radio Boot Camp, mellowing out to his sweet, gentle tones and easy way of drawing people out of themselves like they be octopi and he be herring? Let people come to you, Priya, don’t chase them and yell about how you know they know stuff and you’re just trying to get them to admit the stuff they know. Or: go be a lawyer.

To begin: does anyone but me find the concept of- or perhaps just the phrase – “Fish Taco” really gross? Why is this?

Next: Saint Aardvark is subjecting us to Independence Day for the 17th time. (The remote control is guarded by a fierce cluster of leet unixbots who only scoff when I send the catt to fetch it for me, armed with a little coconut shell helmet and pimped-up chopsticks for swords. Damn computers.) I have managed to stay awake through the whole thing this time but only by keeping the little squeaky wheel in my head wondering: What do the aliens want from us and Why do they hate us so?

I have acquired some important information. Aliens and Satan are very closely linked. And, not unlike those annoying people who write things down and then accomplish them, lickety split, even Satan has goals. Didn’t you know you hated Satan for a reason? According to the watcher,

If Satan’s goals could be summed up and prioritized, they would appear this way:

#1 Stop the redemption of man by preventing the atonement of Jesus on the cross. 
#2 (since #1 has failed), prevent human kind from ever hearing or understanding the gospel .
#3 Prevent at all cost, the resurrection of the dead.
#4 Since the gathering together of all the rebel angels and their imprisonment on earth for judgment is declared by God, great preparations must be made to utilize this event for the continuation of deception.
#5 prevent the eventual reign of God in human form on the earth.

So you see, Satan plus Aliens equals quite a bit of long-standing animosity and also might explain the fish taco. (great preparations…continuation of deception)

Now, this site provides helpful tips on how to defend yourself against aliens. But more importantly, at the end, he or she refers to the killer asteroid that will hit earth in 2017! Which brings us right back to the number 17 and how it actually rules everything; above Satan and aliens and fish tacos and the Oscars.

Observe:

The world record of sitting in ketchup is 17 hours.(the fish taco sold by taco bell is actually a fish stick in a wrap with some salsa on the side. I think this is too coincidental to be accidental.)

And (from the same site):

From a postcard:
Seventeen reasons to live in the Midwest:
pot roast every Sunday
best pesticide commercials in the country
free and available parking
wholesome, unjaded youth
more Catholics than you can shake a stick at
freedom from fear of falling off the edge of the continent
access to little-known fine beers such as Schaeffer, Hudepohl and Stag
dynamite homegrown
birthplace and still best place for jazz
no typhoons
the people are mostly good eggs
no big hills to climb so better gas mileage
greater chance of seeing UFOs
quaint native customs – tractor pulling, flag waving and cow tipping
basketball is at least as important as football
lots of silos and barns for pastoral landscape painters
home of Bunny Bread – “That’s what ah said…”

Did you see? The UFOs! The Catholics! Full circle! Crop circle!

But finally, does it get any more significant than this bit (from the same site, listed under “My 17s”):

On June 20, 1996, at 16:45, someone wanted to phone me (but I wasn’t there) and let the phone ring 17 times.

It was probably Satan calling. Good thing you weren’t there.