The Cheeseblog

The American flavour fake cheese tastes bad, like multicoloured stirrup pants made of Lycra blend fabric. Bad like this picture of David Lee Roth.

Apparently, the reason scrambled eggs taste so good is not because eggs are delicious. It is because they are scrambled with milk, cooked in butter and topped with cheese. My lightly-scrambled in some olive oil with Tofutti topping and so much hot sauce I should probably buy shares in Tabasco? Gag-tastic. But I’m not itchy.

Speaking of Tabasco, I just found my dream snack: Tabasco flavoured cheese popcorn.

Nobody cares about Canadian football, right? Even when there is no hockey, nobody cares about football. But look: there is a Prefontaine playing for the Toronto Argonauts. I’m excited about there being a Prefontaine to cheer for! Maybe I will become a Canadian football fan! The coach (Mike (Pinball) Clemons) said,
“We’re not the Las Vegas showgirls. We’re not flashy and we don’t win pretty.”
Remember, Mike: there’s always someone younger and prettier coming down the stairs behind you.

The understatement of the day comes from a story about the negotiations (which I am watching with equal parts bated breath and vested interest) between PSAC and the federal government:

“Union officials say some progress is being made, but that it’s slow because government negotiators must get all proposals approved by their superiors.”

The key words there, in case you missed them, are government and slow.

Speaking of news, I heard a fun piece at the end of this afternoon’s local news broadcast on CBC radio. Hold on to your bowler; apparently more men than women play Fantasy Role Player Games. (FRPGs)
Professor Kevin Schut, who heads up The Obvious Department at Trinity Western University was interviewed about his PhD thesis. He proposes, in part, that:

“…men simultaneously experience the pressure to be (1) a respectable man who’s the all around “good guy”, (2) a rough and tough man who’s the athletic bad-boy, and (3) a grown-up boy who’s not supposed to take anything too seriously.” [He] says men can rarely fulfill all three roles at the same time, particularly in an office setting, where most middle class men find themselves.”

Ah, so they pretend to be drag0n slay0rs on the internet? Novel.

Schut goes on to explain that:

“For many years, the [gaming] industry has tried very hard to get females to buy their games. They can’t figure out why women won’t buy them—but it does make sense. These games are made by men, for men.**”

Perhaps there was just enough time for a bit of filler at the end of the newscast, only everyone had gone to the bathroom so the babies in the studio daycare had to come up with something? I do not know. Today is one of those days when I don’t admire the CBC so much as want to burn it down and start over using a jar of pickles and my catt’s powerful brain waves.

In other news, The Tyee is an online publication geared to British Columbians. It is never as good as I hope it will be but it’s better than most and I think it is improving as it ages.

** See also: most pornography, crotchless underpants, cars that talk, war and Fear Factor.

Date: Monday, October 11.
Time: 11 am.
Weather: Raining.
Location: Northbound on the Burnaby side of Boundary Road.

(Says the above site: Have you ever thought of visiting City of Burnaby for a vacation? That would be an excellent idea, there are many interesting attractions. Maybe is a time to surprise your spouse or girlfriend (boyfriend) and travel to Burnaby, visit local towns, for vacations?)

Me: jogging slowly along the sidewalk, in cut off sweatpants and a t-shirt.
Them: two men in suits, carrying briefcases, coming towards me.
Me: veering a little to my right to allow them past.
Them: veering a little to their right.
Me: (non-encouraging smile) ‘hello’
Him: reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a copy of the Watchtower, ‘would you like a magazine?’

That’s right – Jehovies on Boundary Road, offering a magazine to a sweaty girl running in the rain. A girl with no pockets, let alone a plastic bag, a girl who might, to the average human being, seem a little, hum, busy? Where are the Jehovies when you’re in a doctor’s office with a 2 year old copy of “Golf Digest?”

Me: ‘uh, not right now, thanks.’
Him: calling after me, ‘another time…’

Apartment building in downtown Vancouver, here I come.

From my desk drawers: $5.65 in Canadian Tire money and two packets of Inferior, Made in Canada Taco Bell Hot Sauce. Everything else got thrown away. Oh, except for the white eraser that is called “Magic Rub.”

On Thanksgiving weekend, which is about many things, including abundance, it is rewarding to throw things away. In preparation for The Great Move 2004, we are tossing things out recklessly. Then, some things are worth keeping (or, in my case, continuing to keep) – Silly Putty that still works, a picture of an old friend that wasn’t in the goop with all the other pictures but stuck between some old poetry, the (cringe, spit, wail) old poetry itself. Saint Aardvark will be moving his 4 litre container of “Yellow Mustard,” to the new place. He has already moved it three times and he has already practised the argument with me (he did my part, too) where I tell him how silly it is and then he puts his foot down and then we don’t talk for a week. So I’m saving myself the angst and we’re moving the mustard back downtown.

I meant to tell you – a couple of weeks ago I streaked my hair. It was one of those home kits with the plastic cap with the holes in it and it came with a crochet hook and then you pull the hair through the cap and bleach the strands.

OK so finding food to eat that has no wheat, dairy, garlic, onion or alcohol is Hard (but I bet I smell much better). I had this image in my head of the extensive selection of health foods available at my local supermarche. That image was totally on crack. The health food section only looks big when you’re trying to get past it to something more interesting, kind of like an SUV on the highway.
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In case you disregard me and do not visit the Boney M. Site, please do take the time to check out the home page of the creator of the Groove Cave. His name is Udo and this is his room.

Oh that’s not tempting enough for you? How about this caption, below his picture:

“Well, I think I’m looking like I’ve had sex with a cactus…”

I may not be able to eat it but I can still love wheat, a darling band from New England. At first and second listen, their album was kind of like enh in my ears. But, as often happens, the magical third listen pulled the chain on a lightbulb that now glows white-hot! just inches above my greying scalp.

It’s positively orbtastic!

Though I have wheat’s album per second, per second, per second…every second. right next to me, ready to play and alter my day in a positive way, first I must finish listening to the Boney M. Gold 20 Super Hits! (Track 20 is the Mega Mix: Rivers of Babylon/Sunny/Daddy Cool/Ma Baker/Rasputin)

I love the Boney M. **. I have loved them since I was a wee tot, dancing in my living room to “Daddy Cool.” But today, today! I really super love the Boney M. VS Mogwai Sound Explosion Battle going on between me and my cubicle neighbour.

** Please, if you do nothing else today, go to that Boney M. site. It is part of the groove cave.