Get 2 Choppin

This is Dick Wiley, your guy in the sky, coming to you from the get2choppin newscenter. We have breaking news to update you folks about out there in Choppinville. Last night on my routine weather and traffic report flyover from the get2choppin chopper, I spotted what appeared to be an unidentified wild creature breaking into a house in the southeast corner of the city of Choppinville. We have come to find out that there was an escape from the wild and wacky boo at the zoo halloween exhibit and the unidentified creature is indeed a hairless baby male bigfoot. This creature may still be running wild in one of our surrounding neighborhoods and caution is suggested when approaching this animal.

In other news an unprecedented reversal of the Onion of the Week and the corresponding return of his man card took place last night. As Johnny sing me the blues, in accordance with the explicit consent of the board of legends of get2choppin.com, performed an act deemed appropriate and worthy for the said return of man card and reduction from Onion of the Week to onion of the day. Due to legal purposes the act has been sealed in a file as proof of receipt.

Well this is Dick Wiley signing out for tonight and please if you come in contact with this hairless male baby bigfoot please report it to the correct choppin authorities and keep on choppin’.

I know it has been a while since we at get2choppin.com have pulled out this award but a recent flagrant violation of the choppin’ code of ethics has been brought to our attention and the only way we feel that this behavior’s growth can be shunted is by public humiliation. That is why Johnny Blue will be known as Johnny Sings the Blues this week because he is our 3rd winner of the onion of the week.

You may ask how someone on the inner circle of get2choppin’ could have possibly committed so flagrant of a violation? well it started when he sent his fellow choppin’ comrades and God only knows who else a chain-letter type text. First and foremost anything chain-letter is the biggest piece of fucking bullshit ever. I don’t care if I don’t send 10 pictures of Christ on a bagel to my friends in hopes of receiving good luck. I mean doesn’t that even go against the whole Christian religion thing anyway by worshipping false concepts such as good luck, I think God is omnipotent or something like that meaning he has got a shit load of power . I might as well cut off a goat head and paint my doors with its blood to keep away evil spirits it would probably work better than a fucking chain letter. I also don’t care if I mail one dollar to the 15 people on the list I got in hopes of receiving thousands of dollars back from them doing the same. No offense if I am that stupid to fall for that scam then put a fucking helmet on my head and throw me on the short bus. Lifting up your feet when crossing railroad tracks or wearing the same underwear for ten weeks straight to keep a winning streak alive are acceptable superstitions but not chain letters.

Shit I think chain letters are just some form of cheap psychiatric treatment for the whack jobs in the damn state run looney bins. What else do those crazy fuckers have to do besides make license plates and badly knitted scarves and sweaters and watch old reruns of Mr. Belvedere.

Anyways Johnny sings the blues error wasn’t that egregious but anytime one of your buddies sends you a text that says: CAN I GET THIS BACK? I LOVE U FOR LIFE! TODAY IS LOVE DAY SEND THIS TO 8 FRIENDS YOU LOVE. IF U GET 5 BACK UR SPOILED! <3 <3

Well if anyone of your buddies sends you that text you rip them apart and take away their man card until they get laid (it doesn’t matter what your get on her system is you still must use the honor system with your boys) and they get to call you the onion of the week from the day that the text was sent up until the 7th day. Fair is Fair Johnny sings the blues. 100 percent fair to be exact.

Why was the orange crying at the altar? because the banana split before they could get married. Ha ha ha, oh man that was a knee slapper. Well the shit is about to hit the proverbial fan. Boys and girls it is going to be crazy tonight. I might even go out on a limb (probably a banana tree) and say that we are going to be like a bunch of wild and crazy monkeys at a banana buffet. After a hard night of tearing it up we are all probably going to feel like a big bruised banana but that is no excuse for us not to bring our A-game boys. I know that doesn’t sound appealing at first but just think of how much debauchery that we are going to cause tonight at the bar and it will all be worth it. This is my plan of attack that I will put into song:

Drink,Drank,Drunk
I may look like a yellow hunk
with a lot of junk in my trunk
but that is just my rock hard booty
so go ahead and kiss me you, cutie patootie

Drink,Drank,Drunk
that keg of beer is johnny blue
he drinks pitchers faster than you
he isn’t part of the bunch
but he is our man in the crunch

Drink,Drank,Drunk
the big banana on the bass
is ed boyd in this case
he is a firefighter and rockstar
so rock on ed, and play that guitar

Drink,Drank,Drunk
Bellows your a fag
shit your probably already half in the bag
bellows you skate like a broad
and reesers still the champ you fraud

Drink,Drank, Drunk
the original banana, the number one
that is dan wickham, son
he plays the sticks like stevie y
that is why he is our 100 percent guy

Stand back because I am one pissed off hombre right now. We are so fighting when you are a volleyball coach at a scrimmage, I repeat a fucking scrimmage, and you after losing the first of the best of two are up in the second game by a large amount and it is game point in your fucking favor plus you have the serve and you call a god-blessed timeout. That is the stupidest waste of fucking time ever. You have the damn momentum and your dumb ass calls a timeout to what remind the girls that “oh yeah ladies we are at game point so, um, make sure you get the ball over the net on the serve.” You are fucking genius coach oh yeah you are filled with a plethora of wisdom and did I fucking mention it is a scrimmage so on the ladder of does it really fucking matter, you fall just below playing a game of Texas Hold’ em for half off coupons to the local hair salon and just above who’s the first person taken in the wnba draft. Women’s sports are like watching sports underwater. Fortunately for the fans at an underwater volleyball match they could drown themselves to get out of the misery.

Oh yeah this one also goes out to the ladies. As fellows all we ask for is one night at the bar where we don’t have to listen to your stupid babbling and your usually poor choice in music. That night is usually monday and Monday Night Football. There is a reason we do not choose to watch the game with you and that is because we actually want to enjoy it. You can have friday and saturday and your jacked up price drinks. We want cheap beer and hopefully free food. So yes we do want to watch the game by ourselves that is why we go to a sports bar and no we do not want to hear anything but the game and the commentary. So If you find the urge to go to a bar on a monday and you walk in and every T.V. is on the game and there is a free buffet of build your own nachos or chili dogs and numerous fat guys are in football jerseys don’t go sliding over to the juke box looking to drop ten dollars so you can listen to the latest song by Fatknee Spears. I don’t care if you are drop dead georgeous (usually if you are going out on a monday to a sports bar I really don’t have to worry that you are stunner in the looks department) but just get your fruity ass cocktail and if you want to listen to music bring your I-pod.

Oh yeah and if you do perchance happen to be stupid enough to drop ten dollars in the juke box and a bunch of guys call you a dumb slut or a stupid whore don’t, I repeat don’t walk over to their table and go all philosophical stoner and be like, “You guys ain’t living with out the music man. What can’t you watch the game without the commentary. You ain’t feelin it, man. You don’t know what your missing”. I know that I want to be watching the game the way I want to watch it and not get a fucking philosophy lesson from some bitch that throws beyonce into the mix. Oh wise one oh buddha of enlightenment you are definitely on the right path. Shit maybe I should listen to some philosophy lesson from some booze hound it might make me a better person. Fuck that.

It has come to my recent attention that with the ever increasing population of get2choppin.com (I mean we have ads now, we must be big) that as editor-in-choppin I should respond to some of the e-mails I get. Recently we received a letter from a little boy named Dylan who is seven years old and lives in Terre Haute, Indiana.

He writes:
Dear Choppin’ guys,

Recently I lost my favorite teddy bear Rex, and have been getting attacked by the dream monsters. I am afraid to go to bed and I don’t know what to do. I was so scared one night I even peed my bed because I dreamed I was getting attacked by shower monsters. Can you please help me? Thanks Dylan

Well Dylan yes we can help you. First let me say that get2choppin.com is all about community service and helping the youth of this country become more choppin’. Second Dylan you need to suck it up. There is no such things as fucking dream monsters. I mean shit trying dreaming about getting attacked by a four hundred pound albino woman covered in marshmellow from the waist down who wants to rip your dick off and use it as a toothpick after she smothers you with her back boobs. That shit is scary, but I go on, I mean get2choppin.com goes on. Shit you probably still think there is a fucking santa claus and a damn easter bunny. Wake up kid and I don’t mean from these silly dreams you are having. Open your damn eyes to the fact that it is probably your fault anyways.

I don’t know what you did you little slapdick. Maybe you stole a transformer toy from the local wal-mart where your mom is working up to be manager in about ten years or so. Or maybe you walked in on your mommy and daddy in the shower and you can’t get that gurgling sound out of your head. Well I don’t give a shit, I got bigger fish to fry Dylan. So if you want to help yourself when you find that little rat bastard of a teddy bear Rex you unstuff him and fill him with those left over pieces of nicorette your Dad tried for a day when he thought about quitting his two a pack day habit and then you hang him up in the back of your trailer park on the god damned rusted out swing set that the former resident had and you go all pinata on his ass, while the other pathetic little fucks in the neighborhood start diving around for those nicotine chicklets like it is their future welfare checks. Then you laugh like a fucking maniac and run around screaming 100 percent motherfuckers 100 percent motherfuckers, until your lungs want to explode. Then and only then will you be on the path to choppinness.

Well Dylan I am glad to be of service and if anybody else needs help feel free to leave a comment at get2choppin.com and we will supply you with all your choppin’ needs.