Sunday, September 9, 2012

Football is the Fifth Season

Hey cheesers!
It's Miss Sarcasm here with the latest cheesy theme : Football Season!

Football is pretty big here in the states.  I'm talking American football.  Not soccer.  Cuz that makes me think about David Beckham...
 Oh.  Hey there hot stuff.  How YOU doin?

Wait,  What were we talking about?

Oh.  Football.

American football.


College football, high school football, NFL level football.... hell even Pee Wee toddler football seems to be a thing anymore.

We love our football.  Why?  Because it's a great, exciting sport to watch AND because football viewing involves necessities we all love:  beer, couches, friends, comfy clothes, and food.  Lots of food.

My life has been pretty much steeped and marinated in football.

My dad is a hardcore football fan and watches all the games.

I met the Hubby over 17 years ago when he was a football player in high school.  I was in marching band and flags corp.  We hit it off immediately.  Soul mates probably, if you will.  I was proud to be dating a hot football player.  He was lucky to have a girlfriend.  He let me wear his jersey and letter jacket.  I let him try out my vagina and make kids with me.  Fair trade.

I went to college at a Big 10 university known for it's football culture and dedicated fans.  I loved everything about my four years there, especially the game days and atmosphere surrounding everything college football. Aka, tailgating.  Aka, beer and partying.

I live in a community where high school football is a SUPER important tradition.  We have an amazingly talented football team year after year.  An award winning football program.  Friday nights under the lights of a football field are the happening thing this time of year.

I'd watch The Blind Side and Remember the Titans every single day if I could.

Don't get me started on Super Bowl parties..... just let me say one thing about them:

Buffalo Chicken Dip.

Not even joking you guys.

BUFFALO CHICKEN DIP with crackers.  Or poured straight down my throat.
Recipe here: 

I use WAY less hot sauce, by the way.  Because I'm a spice wimp.  And way MORE cheese.  Cuz hello?  CHEESE.

Which brings me to what I'd like to know from you all, cheesy friends.  I'd love to hear stories about your favorite teams, a favorite game, favorite rivalry, interesting football story.... and your favorite football game day snacks.  Recipes y'all.  Basically, I want recipes.

Email us at to share your football themed posts!

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Silver Medal Mottos

Friday night I was wandering around the twitter, and I came across an article.  The article claimed that competitors prefer to win a bronze medal than a silver medal. 

Now  Having never won any type of medal myself, I can't claim to be an expert. But this makes complete sense to me. 

A bronze medal means you made the top three.  At least you weren't fourth.  A silver medal, alternatively, means that you JUST missed the top spot.  You could have been a champ, but you weren't quite good enough. 

This obviously brought on a hilarious tweet fit between myself and Miss Laura Anne @LA_theGirl

First, Laura Anne said:

They should add the phrase "mckayla is not impressed" to the silver medal.    

To which I laughed and replied:

Or "FAIL."

And then it started.  Laura Anne and I went back and forth for far too long, quoting what we thought were appropriate Silver Medal Mottos.

@LA_theGirl:  "Maybe next time?"

@SnappySurprise: "Hope that wasn't your last chance."

@LA_theGirl: "Not pictured on Wheaties."

@SnappySurprise: "Lucky, since I don't know my national anthem."

@LA_theGirl: "It could be worse."

@SnappySurprise: "Just pretend it's white gold." 

@LA_theGirl:  "Filing an enquiry." 

@SnappySurprise: "You were probably on drugs anyway."

@LA_theGirl:  "Dear 3rd place, Sucka!"

@SnappySurprise: "My cat could do that better." 

@LA_theGirl:  "Almost!"

@SnappySurprise: "First is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest."

@LA_theGirl:  "Cheated ---->" (points at gold)

And that was it  That was the winning Silver Medal Motto, right there.  Because all I could do was imagine some amazingly impressive, muscular, world record holding Olympic champion, standing on the podium, silver medal hanging around his neck... with eyebrows raised and thumb pointing over at the one person who beat him, and a thinking bubble floating above his head:  Cheated ---->. 

And then I laughed for five minutes. 

Thanks Laura Anne.  I now adore you.  I don't mind conceding defeat to the master.  Although you probably cheated. 

Friday, August 10, 2012

Eye poking should totally be an Olympic event

Hello!  Welcome to the brain of the HILARIOUS GENIUS Miss Mayor Gia.  If you have not yet experienced the remarkable humour of this adorable gal, I promise you, you are in for a TREAT

This time, she is gracing us with her analysis of the categories that make up the Girlfriend Olympics.  She says she's awarding herself medals where appropriate. We think you’ll find she's being more than fair. 

And keep your eyes peeled for "The Clinger" - that's a good one. 

If you'd got an sporty or Olympic-y post for us - old or new - send it on over!  Just email the html to . 


The Girlfriend Olympics

As I briefly mentioned last week, I may not be Olympic material, per se.

Oh, except for this:

What, you don’t believe me? Please, let me prove myself.

Here are the events of the Girlfriend Olympics that I would dominate:


Description:  Good girlfriends bake, of course. Super good girlfriends bake delicious things.  Gold medal girlfriends bake delicious apple pies.

My qualifications: I present that time I made boyfriend an apple pie:

Results: C’mon guys. Best pie EVER. No one else comes close. I award myself GOLD.


Description: We’re not just trophy girlfriends, damnit! Girlfriends need to be helpful with stuff, like telling Boyfriends how to put something together or letting them know we think they’re lost and they should probably stop and ask for directions.

My qualifications: I built a grill, remember?

Also who is the one who told Boyfriend about the trout fishing in my town? ME. That’s who.

Results: GOLD. 

He means this

Anyhoo, next event:



Description: Self explanatory, no?
My qualification

Um, I’m pretty good at accidentally poking.  Boyfriend in the eye. It’s mostly an accident, I swear.


Results: GOLD! Actually, I’m the only one in this event:

It'll catch on eventually.


Description: The ability to drink (or, as some might say, “guzzle”) wine is a very important skill for girlfriends.  Why, you ask? Well, that’s a silly question. Don’t ask that. Just accept it as true.

My qualifications: I’m really good at drinking wine. Even when I try to not be.

Results: Clearly, I’m a gold medalist in this competition.

Total for Day One: 156.32


Description: Apparently boyfriends like sexytime. This is a shock to no one.

My qualifications: Well, I’m a sex goddess:

And there’s this of course:

Use your imagination. Or don't. 

Results: GOLD


Yes, GOLD.




Description: It’s not all about sexytime, you know. Girlfriends need to be good huggers, too.

My qualifications: Well, I’m a solid Boyfriend-hugger on a normal day:

But then I pull my super tricky climber move. I call it “The Clinger.”

Results: Gold, obviously. OBVIOUSLY.

Yay Boyfriend! You get a medal for this one too!

Okay, time to tally up the points…



Um. Okay. Here we go:


Description: I don’t know. Sleep isn’t that important.

Okay, okay.

My qualifications: I usually let Boyfriend sleep.

Ahem, that was kind of your fault for waking up and saying your chest felt weird.

Hey. Boob pain is serious.

OKAY okay! Hmph. We get the picture.

Results: I’m giving myself bronze for that one.

ANYWAY, let’s tally up the overall points!

Me: 305.21

Why, that’s enough to clinch the gold in the overall competition for the GIRLFRIEND OLYMPICS!

I believe that OFFICIALLY makes me the WORLD’S BEST GIRLFRIEND!!


AH! HAhahahahahahaha!  Gia, I adore you.  Thank you for letting us post this.  Our blog is 10x better because of it. 

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Who's an Olympian? I am! I am!


I was on vacation last week.  And by "on vacation" I mean "on my couch watching the Olympics."  Although sometimes I was outside.  Listening to the Olympics on my outdoor speakers. 

Which is weird, because I'm not at all a fan of sports.  Not playing them, nor observing them.  I like kickboxing, mostly because you get to kick and punch things.  I used to instruct skiing, until I grew up and my parents stopped paying for ski trips.

But other than that, I always faked cramps to avoid basketball, and I felt too inadequate to bother pursuing anything else I was even remotely interested in. 

Like last weekend, for example, when I went to play golf drive a cart and drink beer on a golf course. 

This is me "golfing" (ie, chasing the beer cart)

But when it comes to the Olympics?  HUGE FAN. 

International competition? Check.
Patriotism? Check. 
Variety of events? Check?
Hot swimmer muscles? CHECK and CHECK. 

Since I went back to work today, however, I've been feeling the withdrawals.  Like the meat sweats, but even more pathetic. 

And to make matters worse, my hopes and dreams were crushed by yesterday's devastating Canadian soccer loss to the American women, as well as our adorable flag-bearer's bicycle crash in the triathlon. 

Despite that, though, I still love it.  I love the national pride, and I love watching people adore something so much - even if it is insane.  I like the passion. And the muscly butts.  Passion and butts.  Those are the highlights.  Obviously. 

What do you think of the Olympics? Or sports in general?  Have you got a post about it?  Send it on over to and we'll post it here for all to enjoy. 

I also collected some hilarious shit for yout to look it, over at our Spreadable Cheese Page.  You're welcome. 

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Rules Were Made to Be Broken

You guys, I didn't run away last week I swear.  I went on VACATION for a bit.
Coming back to a wanted poster and an alias of "Hotpants McGee" was super clever though....
I did ditch this blog and I apologize.  Really.  It was my turn to write, and I didn't.  I've over a week late with my theme.  What can I say?  I'm a slacker.  A "lazy hobo."  A rule breaker.

Have none of you ever broken the rules?

That my friends is this week's theme:  Breaking the Rules.

I've technically been a "good girl" my whole life.  I don't have a history of getting into trouble, breaking the law, etc.  I've always been too scared of the consequences.

I racked up ONE single detention in school (8th grade, "excessive talking in class."  Whatevs.)

I have received a total of ONE parking ticket.

I've earned ZERO speeding or other traffic tickets.

If I'm told to do something at work, I do it.

I'm utterly honest on my taxes.

If kids a certain age are free for something, I feel bad LYING to get a deal.

I feel guilty jaywalking for shit's sake.....

Now don't get me wrong, I'm no angel.
I've run from the cops.  I've trespassed.  I've broken curfew.  I lied to my parents.
One time shopping, they wrung up a dress as 1.99 instead of 19.99 and I didn't say a word.
Another time shopping they totally didn't remember to wring up a $40 top at all and I didn't say a word.....
But a majority of the time, I'm a law-abiding good girl.


So guys, I need your stories.  I need to break the law vicariously through you.

Email us your fun, scary, laughable, sad, crazy law breaking stories at

We can leave you anonymous if it's a real doozy of a story, I swear.
And you totally know I'm being honest about that because I'm a goddamn good girl.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

WANTED. Hotpants McGee.

You guys. 

Miss Sarcasm BAILED. 

It's totally her turn to post on Cheesy Bloggers this week, and she COMPLETELY BAILED. 


Last seen in a sparkly shirt at a restaurant in Cheesy Chicago (shown above), she has apparently taken off on some sort of crime spree.  Or a drunken rant. Or a vacation.  Or something. 

And Hotpants?  Hear me now.  If you think Ang and I are gonna tolerate that shit, you are SADLY FUCKING MISTAKEN.  No way, Jose.  Not a goddam chance. 

So.  We're putting out the call to arms.  I intend to track you down.  I intend to find you, and chase you, and knock you down on the ground.  Then I may or may not tickle you to death.

In fact, I intend to lure you out of hiding...

And I need the help of our loyal readers. 

PEOPLE.   Send me your hilarious, embarrassing, ridiculous, or otherwise attention-grabbing captions for my WANTED poster.  And I bet we can get that little brat to come to us. 

WANTED for...
Miss "nickname" Sarcasm

Leave your caption in the comments, or email it to

Your captions will bring her out of hiding.  Hotpants McGee cannot avoid something funny for very long.  She will emerge.  It's only a matter of time...

Monday, July 2, 2012

Vacations are a gift from the goddesses

You guys! Since you've all heard all about our recent blogger conference pinot and pizza fest in Chicago, now we want to hear about your summer vacation.

Have you got a vacation story?  Perhaps a road trip in college.  Maybe a bachelorette party in Vegas.  Or simply a long weekend with the kids at grandma's.  In any case, send the html on over to and we'll post it.  Pictures and all!

To get your juices flowin, click on our Spreadable Cheese page.  We'v compiled some gloriously rediculous vacation-themed stuff for you to enjoy. 

Oh, and here's one of my vacation posts, from N'awlins, Loosiana last October.  Have you ever been?

From the N'awlins Airport

How the heck are y'all doin?! 

Hubby'n'me is jus' sittin and waitin in the airport in N'awlins, Loosiana, ready to head on home to Canada.  Our trip was ahright ahright! It was jus' so nice to get away. 

I got all kinds a fun stories to tell y'all when I get home, but for now I got jus' one cute pic to share.  ("Take ya time, baby! Take ya time!)

Uh huh, that's a little ol' gator.


Of course, you may like to read Miss Sarcasm and Miss LACE's recent Cheesy Chicago posts - they are much better storytellers than I am, and they've added some delightful flavour to my previous Cheesy Chicago report...

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Sweet Home Chicago

ALRIGHT FOLKS.  It's Marianna Annadanna here with the official Cheesy Chicago report.  

First of all, after Miss Sarcasm picked me up at the airport, we ventured to a delish lunch at a make-your-own-stir-fry place.  I've never eaten so many edamame beans in my life.  Although, come to think of it, maybe I have.  It's hard to tell. 

Second, they don't have damn DSW in Canada, so I was pretty much having a heart attack.  And Miss Sarcasm even bought BOOTSAnd she's pretty sure she was served by a Kardashian

The Palmer House Hotel was the oldest, coolest, most elegant/haunted hotel I've ever stayed in. 

It takes up an entire city block right in The Loop and has so many huge secret ballrooms that I'm fairly certain it used to be a fancy prison for giants. 

Wait, what?

Once LACE arrived, we took off to meet Coffee Lovin Mom for dinner.  SO EXCITING

And I did not by any means drop the lens out of my glasses and make Miss Sarcasm and LACE (and the kind housekeeper) crawl all over the hotel floor for 10 minutes until we found it.  I would never do that.  That'd just be RUDE

And on the way out I most certainly did not try to eat off some guy's plate while we were wading through hoards of hotel conference goers.  That'd be WEIRD. 

Did I mention that dinner was not just dinner?  Did I mention it was DEEP DISH PIZZA?  Also known as HEAVEN.   

And a few bottles of wine at Pizzeria Due with complementary salad and cheesecake was certainly the highlight of the day (despite all the shoe shopping - which, in my book, is difficult to top). 

And then MISS SARCASM TWEETED A REAL HOUSE WIFE OF NEW YORK and they became BFFs.  True story. 

The next exciting adventure included singing Meatloaf at the rockin piano bar.  I was also fairly excited by If I Had A Million Dollars (pronounced Doll-ers, not Dal-ers) by the (super duper Canadian) Barenaked Ladies

Once CoffeeLovinAmy took us back to the hotel AND ABANDONED US FOR HER DAMN CHILDREN AND HUSBAND, we settled in and passed out went to sleep. 

Once morning came, the time for exploring arose. 

Accroding to LACE's pedomiter contraption, we walked, like, at least 16000 steps on Saturday.  Now, to be fair, some of those were double steps (given all the drunken stumbling), but still.  That's a lot a steps, YO

We explored Navy Pier. 

We ate a lot of food.  LACE had her first ever Churro.  We bought a shit-ton of accessories and jewelery.  INCLUDING A CUTE BROWN PURSE WITH HOT PINK ON THE INSIDE.  HOT PINK, people.  PINK.  On the INSIDE

We went on an architecture boat tour.  (You can follow Jeff our tour guide on the twitter if you want, but watch out - he doesn't seem to follow anyone.  Maybe if we all taunt him.  Let's do that.)

We also did some intense souvenier shopping.  I wanted to buy these sexy hats, but I'm not the kind of person who goes over the top.  It's just not my style.  I'm a shy, rational person. 

So is Miss Sarcasm.  Rational. 

Then we had a fancy dinner at Millenium Park with plenty of wine...

...AND cheese

Now.  This is when it got scary.  Literally.  THAT HOTEL IS HAUNTED, YOU GUYS. 

Ok, maybe not (although LACE was pretty sure it was, so what do I know), but it was pretty damn spooky.  We know because we wandered through all the blocked off doors and hallways for at least an hour.  And I think Miss Sarcasm peed in a urinal.  Maybe.  Don't worry though.  There were no orbs in our pictures. 

Sunday morning was an early start and a yummy breakfast before poor LACE had to hit the airport.  She did get to ride the EL though, so there's that. 

Miss Sarcasm and I then took a very packed subway to the beach, bought some chocolate, found a heroic dog, and walked all the way back before parting ways (for which there may or may not have been wet eyeballs). 

Heroic Dog

I was then left alone to bid farewell to Chi-town all on my own. 

So I did what any normal person does when alone in a big city:  I bought more shoes and played in several water fountains