Get 2 Choppin

Eyes Wide Open…

It is not often that I am the newbie on the scene being that I am the elder statesman of the get2choppin.com board of legends and in fact an original founding member of this site but today I was indeed the rookie. It has been along time since I have had to endure the hardships of the newbie hazing ritual and man are my eyes wide open after today.

First off, I joined the O’Connell Landscaping crew as a favor and as a additional fill in for some Fall clean up jobs because the hourglass of time didn’t have enough salt in it to season my morning eggs and Old Man Winter was starting to knock on the door. Time was of the essence.

The day started out great as Wham Dickham, or as like to call him Boss-Man, and I hoped in the dump truck and headed to the job site after refueling the mammoth metal machine. We headed to pick up the ginormous leaf vacuum and Wham pulled the first zing with an earlier morning shanghai by saying, “Hey let’s us both grab this and hook it up and then as I lifted the heavy piece of equipment he walked away. After that we were off. The view was beautiful from the elevated front seat of the dump truck’s cab and as I got my first glimpse of the Birmingham truck route. I really started to feel like a manly man as we sang Christmas carols to add to our jovial mood.

It was all fun and games as Wham and I pretended to make a pizza with the leaves on the tarp before we had to pull it toward the sidewalk. Wham would yell for some, “I’m a gonna make-a da pizza pie. I need a pepperoni, a pronto” and I would gladly toss a pile of leaves on the tarp and say, “Here is a your pepperoni, would you like a some extra mozzarella also, Luigi.” Later we pulled out the French magician as we both grabbed the tarp to dump the leaves with a little flair and when we tossed the tarp aside and said, “Viola, I make un pile de leaves appear out of nowhere.”

I did learn a few tricks of the trade from Wham Dickham. He taught me how to be a fullback lead blocker through a pile of wet leaves and he taught me how to make a huge tarp diaper that we used to pull about a ton of Mother Nature’s crap. Of course by we, I mean me. As I would be grunting and pumping my legs only to look over and see Wham barely straining as he talked to his bossman.

Things got a little rough for me after that. The next job was all about breaking in the rookie raker. It started with Wham on the big blower and me clearing the way for him. He gave me the nod to clear out the muddy leaves in front of him and looking to impress the Bossman I went right to work. As I pulled the muddy leaves out of the trench Wham revved up the blower and covered me with the mud and crud of Mother Nature.

After that he started flinging poo at me like a monkey only he had a 20 horsepower blower that had me ducking and dodging flying projectiles of dog poo like they were ninja throwing stars, unfortunately I took a few pieces of shit shrapnel to the backside. Side note: Why are rich people so fucking lazy when it comes to pickup their own animals shit. Seriously either pay someone to do it or get rid of your dog of snobby bastard.

The day of hazing wasn’t over yet. With my bladder about to burst, Wham advised me to go behind the garage and take a leak. Unbeknownst to me was two of the neighbors’ dogs that thought I was a burglar and started yapping like I stole their favorite chew toy. Well played, Dickham. Well played.  So the obvious course of action was to pee in the owner’s garage into a PowerAde bottle, as I am relieving myself in walks Mike and says, “You’re peeing, huh.”    

My eyes are definitely wide open to the devious underbelly that propels the world of hazing in the landscaping industry. I am glad I am putting my time in because the next rookie is sure going to get it from me I can guarantee that.      

Recently our crack investigative team of Dick Wiley, Scoop “The Tip” Taylor and our latest addition to the staff, former K.G.B. agent and spy Dementii Roccov, went under the covers to get the latest scoop on the happenings of a first date in the year of our lord, 2008.

This isn’t your mother’s first date because everybody kept their pants on but it was quite the experience let me tell you. I must warn you that you may be shocked and appalled by some of the behavior but don’t blame us we had to do it to get the story.

It starts with a simple movie that an unidentified white male that goes by the alias Mr. Collik, that we randomly selected out of the movie going crowd, was taking his apparent first date too. As we zoomed in with our high-power field binoculars, the body language was obvious. There was the slight touch of the hand to his shoulder when he told a joke. She kept enough spacing to show she was interested but to not let him know that she was readily interested in “that” type of first date ending your mother warned you about when she said, “Nobody dates a whore, so keep your zipper up and flirting down to a minimum”. The telltale sign was his willingness to buy the tickets and show his ability to take care of things (even though I have to say it is 2008 and woman should at least make a cursory attempt to pay for the ticket or to maybe even actually pay for it. I mean what the hell was that entire woman’s lib shit for if you can’t even pony up and buy a movie ticket.)

This is where things got dicey. Being somewhat minor celebrities and well recognizable to the get2choppin.com fan base, Dick Wiley and Scoop “The Tip” Taylor had to wait outside the movie theater while Dementii Roccov performed a reconnaissance mission. After spotting the previously mentioned couple, she returned to Scoop and Dick to relay information to them that their cover may be compromised if they go into the theatre. They were a tad bit discouraged and sent Dementii in first to gain access to a primo spying position and then undaunted they ducked into the theatre at the last minute hiding themselves in the front row in a very awkward position so as not to be seen but with a slight view of the couple.

Dementii’s reports from above were filtering down to Dick and Scoop that there was indeed confirmation of the leaning of the female upon the male’s shoulder and some possible lip locking during the previews. All in all, it appeared to be going well on both sides for the first date.

The movie fell into the genre of comedy and was a well thought out choice by the gentleman. With the movie coming to an end, Dick and Scoop had to make a run for it so as not to be spotted and/or stopped to sign autographs, kiss babies, or be part of family photographs and what not. They quickly ran out of the theatre as Scoop yelled, “Excuse me, Pardon me, we have to get to the hospital.” While Dick Wiley replied, “She is due any minute”. Thus making it appear like these two fine fellows were watching a movie while one of their wives was in labor. They hustled to their car and were off without being spotted.

As of my deadline, I cannot confirm how or when this date ended but it would appear from all accounts rendered that it was the successful beginning to a nice first date. So knights of the dating world keep your swords sharp and your wit sharper for chivalry is not dead. I say, “Come out from under those covers for it will be a good morrow, my fine friends, because we indeed live in a world with hope.” 

It’s that time of year when that one local radio station, in this case WNIC 100.3, starts playing Christmas music super fucking early, the malls are packed with present shopping parasites that would gladly rip off your right arm and beat you over the head with it to get their hands on the hottest new toy that happens to be the last one on the shelf, and every other lawn in suburbia America is full of inflatable lawn ornaments.  Call me bad, bad, Leroy Brown but this makes me want to puke in every stocking across America.

Okay everybody pull out your best Russian accent and following along when I say, “In Roosha we spit on you greedy American capitalist peegs!” Yes we are the land of the free and the home of the black Friday post thanksgiving Christmas sales spectacular. It is the high octane that will propel the Christmas spending frenzy. I don’t want to be the bad guy who gets the Grinch role in the Christmas play but the holiday slogan should be: More, More, More…were looking for a bunch of present grubbing whores, shop here and get 30 percent off your purchase when you sign up for our perfect high percentage point platinum card before you walk out those doors!

Anyways I have come up with a few holiday games that will make the season fun. The first one is called Terry Tate Lawn Ornament Linebacker. Terry Tate used to be employed by Reebok as an office linebacker but in these dire economic times he is sadly out of work so in his honor every time you drive by an inflatable Homer Simpson or Jolly old Saint Nick hop out of your car and do your best Lawrence Taylor on coke impression and come blitzing off the end and take that lawn ornament quarterback’s head off. Just make the happy dance short in case any homeowners are watching.

The next game is called the Bar Santa Battle Royale. You know after a few drinks when you get that feeling that the inflatable Santa in the corner is staring you down, well he is. This is when it is time for you to go Muhammad Ali on his ass and get him in that corner and play his ribs like a xylophone. Remember to deliver that knock out haymaker punch before the bouncers turn you into a bowl full of jelly.  

This next snippet is for the ad executives that read my site. How about this for a beer commercial?

First scene: Show a bunch of different inflatable lawn ornaments from Bart to Homer to Santa to the Frosty to Rudolph to Baby Jesus in the manger (do they have an inflatable manger scene in a snow globe cause if not I got first dibs on the idea) and have them waving in the brisk winter wind looking as blissful as a bunch of Hindu cows on their way to slaughter.

Second scene: Darkness settles in and the homeowners turn off the power and they all slowly deflate and the lights in the house go off.

Third scene: Fade out/fade in again as they all inflate on their own and start walking off to some local inflatable bar filled with other inflatables and where as soon as they walk in the inflatable bartender hands them all a beer.

Fourth scene: In walks an inflatable Rabbi holding the Menorah candle. Everyone turns and looks and the inflatable Christmas Hulk bouncer turns to him and says to the Rabbi, “Read the sign Rabbi, No Shirt, No Jews, No Service. This is a Christmas party.”

Well I am bad, bad, Leroy Brown and I have to go get my BB gun ready for action because it is inflatable lawn ornament reindeer season.

I have a real issue with people that drink wine and I’m not talking about wine out of a box because that has straight down to earth upper lower class American written all over it like graffiti under an overpass or family reunions with the huge steel drums as barbeque pits. The only other wine option I see as acceptable is Boone’s Farm and this is only appropriate when it is the only thing you can get your hands on when it’s a time in your life that you shouldn’t have your hands in the grown-up’s cookie jar if you know what I mean.

Side note: get2choppin.com does not promote underage drinking in anyway but we also don’t turn a blind eye to the fact that in this society people under the legal age of 21 drink and will continue to experiment with drinking despite efforts by adults to stop them and punish them for behavior that they themselves choose to partake in with the only excuse being that “you’re not responsible enough to make the correct decisions while drinking” as they try to lecture their child that was probably conceived during a drunken interlude or they are shaking off the lingering effects of a three martini lunch and a buzzed drive home. Remember buzzed driving is drunk driving (mini side note: be aware that we just fulfilled our legal obligation in regards to our community service for the year).

Side note 2: In a time when most teenagers have everything they need from the latest cell-phones, designer clothes, and cars without even the ounce of responsibility for the payment and care of such items that it is not hard to comprehend why this billion dollar force within the economy would not try to obtain booze when it is the only thing that is considered forbidden fruit to their insatiable appetites.  Yet ironically alcohol is promoted as the young and sexy thing to be doing (I mean how many beer commercials show a bunch of older adults relaxing and enjoying their one beer of the day, even the Viagra commercials don’t incorporate alcohol into the mix and our obviously promoting sober sex and are quite disturbing if you think about the fact they are trying to get your parents to have sex again; hope you don’t walk in on an erection that lasts for over four hours).   

Anyways I digress and apologize for sounding smart and standing up on my soapbox. Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about a person that will sit with a glass of wine at night to “unwind” or even go to a bar and order a glass of the best red they have to offer while everyone else is ordering pitchers of beer and shots. It is just a complete bourgeois move or as I like to say, “boo-jwah”. It is so un-American; you might as well go back to your European roots you French-imitating sophisticated wanna-be.  

You can take your friend, Mr. “member of the microbrew of the month club” and stay in grown-up land because I like living in never-never land, where you never drink wine and you never just have one glass of whatever you are drinking. I’m sorry to say it is time you look in the mirror and realize you are officially a responsible adult, now go put your spoiled kids to bed and settle down for Nightline. You are sell-outs.   

Side note 3: Just to prove my point as I was driving to work today can you guess what vanity license plate I saw in front of me? Mi Wine.  First this bourgeois fuck was trying to be clever with the double entendre of My Wine and Michigan Wine, yet this contradicting asshole was driving a Nissan Pathfinder that is so un-Michigan it isn’t even funny. So go ahead and drive your foreign car and drink your expensive wine while the rest of Michigan and its Auto Industry based economy are struggling you fuck-face.

I don’t know when this became the thing to do to attract members of the opposite sex (or possibly it is to attract members of the same sex and I am just horribly out of the loop de poophole as gay people say) but the self portrait shirt-less bathroom mirror photo grinds my gears.

This just reeks to high heaven like you forgot to flush your Arrogance toilet after a night of mexican food, margaritas, and the following morning’s mix of malt-o-meal and sour milk. I get it, you are better than us ordinary joes who choose not to completely fucking embarass ourselves on sites like Facebook, Myspace, and Craigslist looking to pull some tail with this type of photo-op.

We can all see that you have the V that woman apparently find irresistable but what you don’t have is common fucking sense and a modicum of modesty because if you did you would have realized you are making a complete and utter fool out of yourself and just to let you know your camera work isn’t the greatest either. You’re no fucking Annie Leibovitz or Ansel Adams. Damn you ain’t even that smuck stuck at K-mart taking holiday pictures of whiny little brats dressed in their best red and white Santa’s elf costume.

Can someone also please explain to me why these snap happy shutterbugs all try to look so hard and so damn thuggish? The tilt of the cap, the tough guy face, three day old stubble, and the low hung pants (to emphasize the V) are part of this huge fucking charade you may be trying to pull on some unsuspecting woman but it doesn’t fly with me tough tits. Any woman that falls for a guy because of one of these photos deserves everything she gets from the abs your seeing to his entire vapid being.

I can almost guarantee that these are the types of guys that would “pump” and “fluff” themselves up for a photo of this nature. I can just picture it, a round or two of push ups and situps to inflate the arms and tighten the abs while providing just enough sweat to acheive that glistening effect and then maybe some naked jumping jacks to increase the blood flow to their central region if you know what I mean.

I find this behavior utterly shameless and if you ask me it should be avoided at all cost for the simple reason of the risk of lowering your own P.R.I.C.E (perceived reputation integrity co-efficient).

Sidenote: just in case this photo strategy does work and you can provide definitive proof I have a couple photos already stored up in my camera for when this comes off the grinds my gears blacklist.