Monday, October 31, 2011

Trick or Treat Photos!

Happy Halloween Cheesers!

This week's theme is simple and fun.  Everyone can do this one, so, you know... DO IT.

Sticking with our Halloween theme, go ahead and send us your favorite Halloween photo or two.  It could be of your own childhood costumes, costumes of your kids, whatever you'd like to submit and we'll post.
It'll be like Awkward Family Photos, but cheesy.

Email your pics to us at cheesybloggers@gmail.com.  You can also link up your blog below!



Monday, October 24, 2011

A white tutu, a blow pop, and the scariest things that ever happened


You guys. It's Marianna Annadanna here - and I have a question for you. 

Are you aware of what special event is taking place one week from tonight? Yes, yes, you guessed it. I will be shaving my private parts.

No, wait, that's Tuesday nights. My mistake.

Next Monday night will be fun too, however, as it will be HALLOWEEN. The scariest night of the year.

BOO!

See?  Scary. 

I love Halloween. The first Halloween I remember took place at 4 years of age. I was the Tooth Fairy. My mom's clever idea I suppose. I had a white tutu and a wand.  And I insisted on leaving coins on neighbours' front porches.

Other years I went as an Indian (feathers, not dots - sorry that's rude), a clown, a baby.  We used to sucker some lucky parent into driving us around in their minivan to help transport our multiple pillow cases STUFFED with candy.  And these were the old days, folks - the days of can cola and mixed goodie bags. There were no effing fortune cookies and mini playdough cups back then. This was the real shit. The heavy shit.

I used to wake up early on the weekends and creep (very skillfully across the creaky hardwood floor) into the spare bedroom closet where the giant pillow cases were stored to collect a few handfuls of breakfast.  I would carry it in the front of my nightie to the basement, watch tv, and stuff my face.  Until one morning Mom called my name.  I came bounding up the stairs two at a time without thinking and looked up at mom... with nothing other than a blow pop sticking out of my face.  "Gotcha" was the look on her face.  "Oh. Shit." was the look on mine.

When I got to 9th grade I was AGHAST that Mom wouldn't let me trick-or-treat with my friends. She said I was too old. WAY TO RUIN MY LIFE, MOM. Instead I ate candy, watched The Simpsons Halloween specials, and handed out treats to little kids. Ever since then I've preferred the handing-out-candy part to the walking-around-in-the-cold part.

I still dress up though - at work. One year I was a terrifying zombie bride, and then Maryann on a 3-hour tour.  Last year I followed the yellow brick road in some WICKED ruby red shoes. 

I haven't decided this year, but I'm leaning toward garden gnome. Because if you know me, you know that garden gnomes are THE SCARIEST FUCKING THINGS THAT EVER HAPPENED.

Other than that I have no big plans.  Maybe another pumpkin carving contest, of which Hubby will fiercely protest and then take tremendously seriously until he wins all the little kiddies' votes and gets to brag about it for years to come.

Welcome to my life. 

But what about you guys? What are your best Halloween memories?  I want to hear them! And so does everyone else, so don't be lazy shy.  Email your text/link to me at CheesyBloggers@gmail.com and I'll post them here for all to see!  

You can link up here too. And don't forget to check out this week's Spreadable Cheese.



Friday, October 21, 2011

dirty, smelly, nasty, yucky......... chores.

Every week it’s the same thing….

You can’t deny it.

You can’t avoid it…

It always seems to sneak up on you … and before you know it … you’re standing face to face with…………..

A DIRTY BATHROOM!!!



Dirty bathrooms are the bain of my existence…. Mostly because no matter what you do … they are ALWAYS dirty… even right after you clean them, they are dirty again the first time someone uses the toilet, sink, and tub… whatever. If you have kids in your house… especially boy kids ..or live with boys (or a man, which.. let’s be honest.. are really like boys in respect to the bathroom)… then you probably have pee on your toilet somewhere other than on the INSIDE of the toilet. This is one of the grossest things I’ve ever experienced… it’s just so wrong. As a girl growing up in a household mostly comprised of girls the toilet was always clean… cuz girls are rad like that. Even if we by accident get something on the outer rim of the toilet… we’re responsible and clean it up right away with a piece of toilet paper. I think this is because we appreciate what it takes to have a clean bathroom and want it to last as long as humanly possible.

Enter: dirty boys.



Boys… I don’t think they care. They are dirty and smelly and make dirty and smelly messes in the bathroom. Therefore I have deemed that the ONLY way to successfully clean a bathroom is with bleach. It’s probably bad for the environment and I might get cancer later in life for using it .. but it’s either cancer later or germs now. Since cancer is only a possibility and germs are a definite…. I’m going with bleach! Now bleach and me don’t get along well…. Every time I clean the bathroom I end up spending the latter part of the day having trouble breathing and putting calming moisturizer on my skin because I inevitably forget to put on gloves and end up having a skin irritation from the bleach cleaner.

Enter… the wonderful boyfriend.


(bf who looks deceptively feminine in his purple and pink leo)

When my bf and I moved in together six months ago or so … we started a cleaning routine and he started cleaning the bathroom…. Because he hated seeing me in so much pain after using the bleach… I’m thinking ..it’s his manly duty considering it’s only him and his son that make the messes in the bathroom cuz I’m a girl and I’m clean.

SO … bathroom chore, not so much a chore anymore… *happy face*

Don’t even get me started on laundry.


Really the only chores I hate are the ones that are never ending… ones that no matter how often you do them, they need to be done as soon as you finish them..

Which.. come to think of it.. is all chores.

So I guess I hate all chores.


Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…. Makes sense.

*   *   * 

Thanks to Jamie a.k.a ChemGirl at It's So Fuzzy for the awesome guest post!  Sums up my own thoughts on cleaning superbly!

There's still time to link up your cleaning post below, or as always, email cheesybloggers@gmail.com to have your post featured on our main page!

Monday, October 17, 2011

Clean Up Your Act!!

Hi cheesy bloggers!  Angela@BeggingTheAnswer here with this week's theme: Clean up your act!!!

Last week I wrote a post on my own blog about how I loathe, dread, and detest cleaning bathrooms.  Really, who WANTS to spend time on their hands and knees scrubbing pee stains out of the floor?

I've also posted in the past about the world's stupidest infomercial.  Yes, the Smart Mop people suggest wiping up a spilled soda with the smart mop, then wringing the mop into a glass so you can continue drinking the same soda.  Don't believe me?  Take a look!


And today I have another take on the idea of cleaning: Cleaning up my language.

The other day I was driving home from Preschool when I got cut off by some guy driving one of those large white utility van.

"GOD DAMMIT!" I cried. "WATCH WHERE YOUR GOING YOU DICKHEAD."  Suddenly I hear a small voice piping up from the back seat.

"Mommy? What's that?" asked my three-year-old.

"What's what?" I said quietly.

"What's that you said?  What's dickhead?"

"CRAP," I thought, fortunately not out loud.

"Ummmm...." I told her, "It just not something nice to say.  Mommy was angry."

NOW WHAT?

I've tried various attempts at "Hey, you..... (please don't swear) YOU!" or "Aww... Shi....uhhhh...mmmm.."  But nothing sticks.

So I'm looking for a "replacement" swearword.  Something benign. "Oh, hamburgers?" "Oh, pineapple?"  "You inconsiderate person?"

Any suggestions?

*     *     *

So, now it's your turn!  Clean up your act!  Send us posts about cleaning.  Your favorite or least favorite chore.  Your attitude towards housework.  Or is there something about yourself that needs "cleaning up" (like my potty-mouth)?  Let us know!  Link up below, or email cheesybloggers@gmail.com to be one of our weekly feature posters.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Performance Review

Happy Monday Cheesy Bloggers! Miss Sarcasm here with this week's theme, and I really, REALLY hope you like it. I've kinda bombed on my past couple of themes, but lame mediocrity is my specialty, so no surprise there. Hopefully this one will get some guest posts for me. Some good links ups....
ACTUALLY, some smiles and laughs are what I care about the most though, so enjoy!

*****
A few days ago Bossy Girl and I were having a random discussion when she decided to say out of the blue, "Mom, you're a good mommy." So I asked her what makes me a good mommy. She said, "You do all the mom jobs well." So I asked if she meant feeding and clothing them and loving them. She said, "Yes. ALL the mom jobs." I then asked her which "mom jobs" I may not do so well. Bossy Girl said she doesn't like when I yell, but she thinks it's really funny when I swear. So pretty much I figure I just had my mom "performance review" for the year and I passed. I'm a goddamn natural at this motherhood thing. Too bad there's no raise or promotion. Just snot noses, puke catching, diaper blow out cleaning, food cooking, tear drying, hug receiving, pride-filled heart feeling love.

******
I get evaluated annually for my job, but I've never experienced a typical "performance review" before this one with Bossy Girl. Which made me think that for this week, let's focus on performance reviews. Have you had one for your job that was stellar? One that was terrible? One that cracked you up and made no sense? Like some of these I found:




  • This person is not really so much of a has-been, but more definitely a won't-be.
  • To hear him speak, his accomplishments are so big they can only be compared to that of a black hole in space -- unfortunately, neither have been confirmed to exist.
  • Create a new title to make him feel appreciated, e.g., jester, dunce, former employee, etc.
  • Gates are down, lights are flashing, but the train just isn't coming.
  • A clock watcher who's in a different time zone than the rest of us.
  • He's so dense, light bends around him.
  • This employee should go far -- and the sooner he starts, the better.
  • He sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.
  • Got into the gene pool when the lifeguard wasn't looking.
  • Is still able to get the job done -- if someone else helps.

  • source: http://www.re-quest.net/g2g/humor/office/

    Have you ever had to write a performance review of someone? Is there anyone in your life or neighborhood you'd like evaluate and write a review of? A product or celebrity that needs a good performance review? Have fun with us and share your performance review! I know I'm going to write a "performance review" on my female reproductive organs over at my other blog and link it up this week. Let me tell you, this review is gonna be a doozy and someone's getting fired.  I'm talking to you, uterus. 

    You're welcome to either link up below or email us at cheesybloggers@gmail.com to be a guest poster for the week! Also, don't forget to check out our Spreadable Cheese page for some fun performance review bits.

    Saturday, October 8, 2011

    She keeps putting "grown ups" in "quotes"

    You guys know our friend Carm, right? From A Life Less Ordinary? We love Carmen because she's a hilarious smart ass.  I, in particular. love her because she is a fellow Canadian.  So if you're not already reading and following Carm, I insist that you start.

    ****************

    Lists aren't my 'thing', k? They are for 'grown ups'.



    Lists. I hate ‘em. Not going to lie. It pains me to write a grocery list actually. To me, they just seem so DEFINITIVE. It’s as though I can hear them taunting me, teasing me, telling me that if I don’t complete every damn thing on it the world is going to come to an end. Over dramatic, yes, but not too far from the truth. Cheesy Bloggers has decided to make lists their writing prompt this week and while I had made a decision to just read the contributors and not participate the instant I read it, I changed my mind only because I think it is a very 'grown up' thing to work through your short-comings. (This is not an admittance that I have short-comings mind you) And since I am working on this whole ‘grown up’ thing, I might as well actually work on it. See? Progress already. I think a glass of wine is in order as my reward.

    I think I can write a list without feeling like I actually have to complete it. Or complete everything on it. Or buy everything on it. Or stress out that I couldn’t remember everything that needs to be on it.Or freak out that I am actually writing it. Or just be damn annoying talking about the stupid mother fucking list.

    OBSESS MUCH?!? Nah. I am too 'grown up' for that, remember?

    So without further adieu (or unnecessary rambling, you choose) here is my list of “Things that Carmen does not enjoy feeling obligated to participate in:”

    1. A game of chess because someone asked politely. Chess is boring. Plus, I never win. I don’t fucking get it.
    2. Folding socks. Why won’t anyone else fold the damn things?And why do I even feel obligated to do it? This might take some dissecting.
    3. A staff meeting. Don’t make me. I’ll come if I damn well please
    4. Camping. Unless it’s complete with an indoor sleeping space and shower. Then, maybe.
    5. Board games of any kind. Unless alcohol is involved. Then, maybe
    6. Walks. I hate them. Unless alcohol is involved.
    7. Family events. As long as the word “obligated” is not used, I’m down. I’m a rebel like that
    And the last thing on my list of things that you better not make me feel obligated to participate in?

    FUNDRAISERS.



    I plan ‘em, I make other people feel obligated to either participate in or donate to, but I tend to only see one side of things (mine) which means I have given myself full permission to get mutha fuckin’ PISSED if it’s done it me. Call me hypocritical, call me selfish, but don’t call me to donate cash. Fair? Shit, I might have regressed a bit here in that whole acting like a 'grown up' thing. And putting 'grown up' in quotations probably isn't a 'grown up' thing to do either. Shit.

    Wow. I must say, I feel a little lighter now that I have that whole list thing out of the way. How did I do? Negative responses will not be tolerated. Just sayin’. It wouldn't be 'grown up' of you.

    *****************

    We love you Carmen!

    Thursday, October 6, 2011

    Top five tips on how to be a good house guest

    My friend V from PeopleIsPlace is one of the biggest LIST fans in Canada.  Or maybe in North America. I challenge any of you to write more lists than V.  She has a very organized brain and I think it's because all her thoughts are placed carefully into very detailed, bulletted, and cross-referenced lists. 

    This is one of her best ones - top five tips on good house-guesting.  Enjoy! 

    ***********

    Adventures in House Guesting

    So in a recent post I talked about my excitement slash nervousness about moving into my new condo in mid-September. What I didn't mention is where this temporary nomad is living between returning to Ottawa a week ago and getting to the keys to my new digs.

    Anyone but me remember the movie Madhouse from the early 90s? That movie scarred me. Not, as you might assume, because I feared I might one day have to contend with house guests from hell. No, that would be the normal child's reaction.

    Instead, thanks to my over-developed guilt complex, as a kid this movie instilled in me an unhealthy level of anxiety around the possibility that someone might consider me an unwelcome guest. The fact that, at around the same time as I saw Madhouse, I took out a screen door while running out to the back deck at a friend's house may have also been a contributing factor. (I didn't see it, I swear! They should really make those damn things florescent or something).

    Flash forward to 2011; my year of house guesting.

    I haven't slept in my own bed since May.

    Would say about half of those nights were spent in hotels, or at my parent's place in T.O. (where I only insist I'm a guest when it comes to weekend breakfasts. Why should I even try to cook when I know if I wait around long enough a delicious omelet or, if I'm really lucky, home made pancakes will magically appear?).

    The other half have seen me resting my head on all manner of other peoples' pillows. I was a guest slash worker as a WWOOFer at Les Arnauds in France, a temporary member of the Baster family during a short visit to Ottawa at the end of July, stayed with several family members during my two week visit to Ecuador, and on Monday took up residence in my generous friend A's house after spending the previous week living it up suburban styles with my dear friends M and N in Ottawa's east end.

    Thankfully, growing older and wiser (and in the process realizing people don't actually get Madhouse level upset over house guest related challenges) have allowed me to get past my childhood fear of being a bad guest. I would even go so far as to say that I now consider myself, if not an ideal house guest, at least an experienced enough guest to share a few pieces of advice.

    So, in no order of importance, here are my top five tips on how to be a good house guest:

    5. You can't be afraid to ask questions. Even seemingly stupid ones. Even at inconvenient times. Hesitate and you will almost always regret it. Think about it. Would you rather risk interrupting your hosts' teeth brushing by asking them where you can find the towels at 11 pm, or end up putting your pj's back on after your shower because you find yourself without a towel at 8 am and they're still sleeping?

    4. Accept the fact that something will go wrong. And you will be embarrassed. But you will get over it. That said, if you're going to make a rookie mistake like burning your toast and setting off the smoke alarm at 7 am, better to do it towards the end of your stay (when you're almost gone anyway so there's little point in getting too mad at you) than the beginning. Sorry again M and N!

    3. Get in touch with your most flexible self. If you're lucky like I've been, you'll have great hosts with habits mostly similar to your own. But be prepared for some differences. I've learned some people like to talk in the morning. Like, before coffee. In the interest of maintaining a good vibe, be prepared to fake like you do too. I suggest channeling your inner "morning after a first overnight stay at a new boyfriend or girlfriend's house" self. Unless you're staying for a while. In which case, save everyone some anguish and be honest up front by bringing a book or newspaper to breakfast.

    2. Choose to be excited about the chance to try new foods and customs. There is no better way to get to know people than to break bread with them. If their version of bread has meat in it and you're a vegetarian - suck it up! Well, not literally. Maybe rather take many small bites so it seems like you ate more flesh than you actually did, but definitely use the "culturally appropriate" card to break free of your usual habits. That said, if you have some preferences you just can't let go of (like say, the need to drink tea at least twice a day), don't be shy about bringing some of your own food with you. Your hosts may even welcome the chance to try it (and if you're wary of eating an entire loaf of fig bread by yourself in a day, you will welcome the chance to share it!)

    1. Don't get too comfortable. Welcome the chance to get to know people on a different level, take pleasure in the warm bed and yummy food they offer you, but remember you're a temporary addition, not a new found dependant. Offer to help out with the chores (though recognize there are somethings people like to do themselves), get out of the way every once in a while so your hosts have some down time, and put some effort into finding a thoughtful thank you gift. Something that says "I'm so touched that you consider me a good enough friend to welcome my toast-burning, untalkative-before-morning coffee self into your home. I know I don't have to get you anything, but I'd be homeless without you and so want to give you this as a symbol of my appreciation. You're welcome at my place any time. You know, once I'm not homeless anymore."

    ************

    Go check out V's blog.  She's so clever and thoughtful and smart and you'll totally be able to relate to her. 

    Also, email us one of your LIST posts!  CheesyBloggers@gmail.com  You all have a good list! I know you do.

    Monday, October 3, 2011

    Best places to poop and toe hair mohawks. You heard me.

    Hey dudes.  It's Marianna Annadanna here with this week's cheesy theme!  And I think you're gonna like it.  In fact, I know you are.  Because who doesn't like a really good LIST

    Not us.  Us bloggers like lists.  In fact, we love them.  We'll make a list of pretty much anything. 

    We'll make a list of our spouses' dirty habits. We'll make a list of our kids' stupid questions.  We'll even make a list of the best places to poop. 

    Ok, I haven't necessarily seen that last one, but I guarantee you it exists somewhere.  And if it doesn't, it SHOULD, because I definitely want to know where people like to poop.

    Given my love of lists, a couple of months ago for my 101st blog post I made a wicked-ass list of 101 things that I love.  And trust me, being positive was harder than I thought. 

    Since then I've thought of a few more of my favourite things. 

    1) Cold feather pillows and fresh sheets.
    2) Seedless concord grapes.
    3) Vacations, including my upcoming trip to NEW ORLEANS in a week!
    4) Being pleasantly surprised by movie because my expectations were so low (Thor, Horrible Bosses).
    5) Jimmy Fallon.

    And just because I can't help myself, here are a few of the many, many, many, many things that drive me outta my motha-lovin mind

    1) Driving, traffic, and all gas/parking/repair-related expenditures.
    2) Motion sickness.
    3) Cotton balls - worse than nails down a chalkboard, people.
    4) Politicians.
    5) Hubby's toe hair mohawk. Seriously.

    So, I WANT TO POST YOUR LISTS!  Email me at CheesyBloggers@gmail.com IMMEDIATELY with a link and/or text of your best list.  Or your worst list.  Or a list of your lists.  And if you don't have a list I demand that you write one! Any one! About anything! 

    If that isn't enough motivation for you, you should know that my Canadian Thanksgiving is this weekend.  Which means you have to be extra nice to me.  God says so.



    Sunday, October 2, 2011

    Once Upon a Time.... but when dammit?!

    We're wrapping up our fairy tale week with a gem by Up From The Ashes ...


    As a little girl I loved fairy tales. Not really because of the stories but the pictures. I would pour over these gaily colored books for hours memorizing the colors, the shapes, and all the fantastic mythical creatures that lay upon the page. My favorite was the dragon, every time I saw him I couldn't help but get excited.

    The first story that I remember really touching me was the story of Puss and Boots. I got the story book for some holiday, I want to stay Christmas but I was like 4 or 5 so I can't really be certain, my grandparents got it for me and my little sister, along with the one about the three billy goats and the troll under the bridge.



    I would read Puss and Boots and hit the buttons at all the right times to hear the sounds. I absolutely loved it to the point where I could almost recite it word for word. All the deception in that story never really sunk in till I was older.


    So there's a Miller and he dies. He splits up his possessions like this: The oldest gets the mill, the second get the mule, and the youngest gets the cat. The youngest son is a whiner and pretty much says "I'm going to eat this cat and then die of starvation with nothing but a cat hand warmer." Maybe because he has been (probably) ordered around by so many people in his life when the cat suddenly tells him what to do instead of eat him the Miller's son listens.


    The cat tells the young man to get him a pair of boots made for him and a sack then heads out to make his master a fortune.


    Not too bad at this point. And who doesn't love a cat walking around in a pair of tall boots wearing a cap with a jaunty feather in it (yes jaunty). The cat catches two young rabbits and walks (forever) to the castle of the king and gives them to the king as a present from his master the.... wait for it.... Marquise of Carabas.


    LIES!


    *Ahem* The king is impressed, not with the rabbits but with the talking cat. I think my version of the story had the king ask Puss in Boots if his master was a wizard (Here I got to hit the magic wand button and hear magical tinkly sounds) and the cat answers 'Yes'. So the cat continues to bring the King wild game for a few months, and the king is like every other man I know: "MEAT! It's time to grill baby." lol *ahem* Actually I think the wording is: "This pleased the King greatly." But we all know he was thinking the first thought.


    The cat goes back to his master, the Miller's youngest son, after he's got the king's routine down and goes and tells him to bathe in a specific part of the river. The cat knows the king is going to ride by there and has a dastardly plan.


    The Miller's youngest son listens to the cat, again. And goes skinny dipping.


    The story points out that the princess is in the carriage and that she's super beautiful, so when the Miller's son (aka: The Marquis of Carabas) gets hauled naked out of the river because the cat is like "Help help, my master is drowning! Thieves have thrown him in the river and taken all his belongings!" I couldn't help but giggle... I still giggle. Because at that moment I'm sure the sheltered little princess got quite the eye full and it's no wonder she started crushing on him. (OMG! I've seen a man neked! Now I HAVE to marry him!)


    Here is where it get's really crazy. The Cat runs ahead of the carriage and starts telling all the workers in the fields to say that they belong to the 'Marquis of Carabas' should the king ask them. Apparently the cat has been stalking more than just the king because he knows that all these lands belong to a shape shifting ogre who has a castle down the way.


    What I don't get is why the workers listen to the cat. I swear Puss has to be a Jedi or something. Either that or it was like one of those middle school pranks we're all very painfully aware of: "tee hee, this is going to be hilarious, snicker snicker, shhhhhh!"


    Whatever the reason the king is like "wow is all this really yours?!"


    And the Miller's son lies to his face! "Yup." (Stretches so as to coolly put his arm around the blushing princess who's JUST SEEN HIM NEKED. "Indeed it these fields never fail to have a good harvest." Winning jock smile. Key the 'nabisco ding' sound effect and the shiny tooth gleam.)


    While the "Marquis" is lying to his sovereign's face the cat is off antagonizing an ogre. Daring it to shape shift into things. Telling the ogre he doesn't believe that he can do it. (Chicken! bock bock bugock!) And you know what, it works. The Ogre turns into a mouse and the cat eats him!


    So now all these lies have suddenly become true!


    The Miller get's the girl, a castle, and the riches of the ogre all because he listened to a cat, got off his buns to do stuff, wasn't afraid of a little streaking, and had the ability to lie to others faces.


    The cat did all this just so that he wouldn't get eaten.


    The moral of the story? IF some one wants to eat you use all your cunning to survive.
    If a girl sees you naked she will probably fall, the story literally says, violently in love with you.

    But ultimately, don't take dares from cats. Because dude you're gonna die.


    *     *     *


    Thanks, Ashes! Stand by for next week's cheesy new prompt!