The Cheeseblog

I coded this page using Mozilla Firefox. It looked good in Mozilla Firefox. Now I am looking at it in Internet Explorer and I want to shoot small animals just to hear their screams and distract myself from the 8 car highway pileup that is this page.

However, I cannot do that, nor can I do any modifications to the CSS because I am working.

Please come back tomorrow. I think I will create a nice, simple HTML page as I have done successfully in the past. Or you could go here where it is often funny and attractive.

Peace out.

Turns out I didn’t have to actually pay attention to the THREE HOUR Apprentice Season Finale because GATS is watching it too. I could spend the evening gnashing on the ear of CSS, trying to sever that dastardly ligament, watching the blonde battle the army dude out of the corner of my very squinty eye.

I could never have made it as far in The Apprentice as, oh, the videotape submission. But even I know that continuing to explain how you have “risen to the top” of every organization of which you have been a part is not going to win you any, um, jobs with The Donald.

Clawing your way, screaming and bleeding, to the top, now that’s a different story.

The women’s bathroom here at work smells like cookies. Suffice it to say: this is a change for the better.

And this whole purple + sunflower thing is making me twitchy. I feel like I’m in a box of tampons. As soon as I get home I’m wrestling CSS to the floor and biting its ear off.

In today’s Globe and Mail, Canadian writer-dude Russell Smith says:

I seem to spend a lot of time trying to explain to dull people why Trailer Park Boys is funny. It seems either you get it, or you hate it. I try to claim that I respond to the accent and dialogue of my home town (I grew up in Halifax; the show is set across the harbour, in Dartmouth, and we all knew guys like that), and I say, almost seriously, that I like it because there is so much swearing in it, which makes me laugh in itself. But I know it’s about more than that, too. By and large, the people who like it, in my vicinity, are smarty-pants Toronto media types in black suits.

Disclaimer 1: I haven’t read the rest of the article because the paper copy is in the office of my boss (and urrrr it’s dangerous to take the paper of the boss) and the online copy wants me to subscribe to read it HA! but c’mon.

I’m not dull. Stop calling me dull, Russell Smith. I already didn’t like you and your smug turtleneck face. Maybe the reason people are resisting your implorations to adore the Trailer Park Boys along with you and your Tronna buddies is because they don’t want to become self-satisfied and friendless. Maybe they want to put as much space between them and you as possible. Maybe your nose hairs are too long.

Disclaimer 2: I have never read a piece of fiction by Russell Smith. I would probably really dig his writing. Really, my knee-jerk here is transference of my over-clocked hatred for other man-about-Canada: Evan Solomon. Evan is the one who really chokes my gizzard. More on that another day.

And yet, the TPB just aren’t what I call funny. I know this isn’t because I am an urban monkey who has never met idiots. And it isn’t because I’m offended by coarse language. I am proud to be the sweariest girl in the office most days. I could make a longshoreman blush. I guess all that’s left to me is to stop lifting those Dull Barbells and start cross-training on irony twice a week.

And also? Apparently I can still get hopped up on caffeine. I had thought my tolerance was sky high but all it takes is a big cup of coffee cooled to room temperature; down the hatch; no breakfast and Holy Crap!

I’m fooling with the decorations and now I’m tired. So what if sunflowers have nothing to do with cheese and this page now looks like Anne Geddes threw up? Hmmmm?

I’m just too distraught by Yaya’s defeat tonight at the hands of the miniature Eva, especially because Saint Aardvark called Eva as the winner. Damn!

Didn’t like Yaya anyway. She was definitely the most attractive girl but damn! her personality was a little on the Snooty Side. Tyra won’t take that. Tyra made those girls and she can tear them down or tear them new ones, as she sees fit. DangerTyra. “You are the shortest girls ever to make it this far!” she said to the final three. You just know she is loving digging that dagger in. “Lookit all y’all – that short and here on TV! I must be some kind of Miracle Worker!”

Sleepy.