Get 2 Choppin

In twenty days, I’ll be on my way from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest. Sterling Heights to Seattle, Built Ford Tough to Microsoft, automobile industries in pain to the grave of Kurt Cobain, Kid Rock at the Red Wings game to Eddie Vedder just chillin’ at some bar with no name, from the economy that sucks to the home of Starbucks. From the giant Belle Tire and the ghost of Bobby Layne to the Space Needle and the voice of Fraser Crane, from Henry Ford Village and the Planetarium to the Seattle Aquarium, from hookers on the 8 mile strip to the Fremont Summer Solstice parade marked by naked bicycle trips, from the Detroit Lions and their number of wins, zero to the Mariner’s centerfielder, Ichiro. 

I’ll be traveling from the Motown to Seatown, the Motor city to Jet city, from the inner-city nitty-gritty to the Pacific Pretty, from Mound to Puget Sound. From the D.I.A to hip hop’s Eminem to Grunge Music and the S.A.M. (Seattle Art Museum) from Hailey’s song to stalking the star of The King of Kong, don’t worry about me popping my clutch cause it’s just a cultural shift, Bill Gates maybe a star-ski who doesn’t let his kids have Blackberrys but I’m no Hutch cause I’m not his Huckleberry (unless he offers me a job).

Six weeks away from the gang doing that Seattle Thang, riding my bike in the mountains instead of near Campus Martius and the fountain. I’ll miss the C-town Fourth of July parade because this is one experience I cannot trade.

I’ve got nothing holding me back; I’m just not sure what to pack. Questions arise; do I leave the thong in the dresser? Do I pull out naked guy to impress her? (The last one is just a general question that transcends space and time, because naked guy comes out without reason or rhyme). I got nothing but time until I’m walking on the piers, I hope Seattle has Bud Light cause I’m not into all those micro-beers.

Even though it’s six weeks without Wham I get massive quality time with the Fam, you know the bro-ski; Scottie the Computer John Gotti, also introducing the wife-ski; Nancy “her mom’s pasta salad needs more ham to suit my fancy”, just kidding it’s actually Nancy, “I want to get in Tom Jones’ Pants-ies”. Clear the runways Sea-Tac cause John E. Bravo is gonna give the Pacific Northwest something it lacks, Saaaaay whaaaat!   

For those of you that missed it (and apparently it was all of you) I recently threw a party at my place this past Saturday. I sent invites out to all my friends but something must have happened along the way because not one person showed up which left the host with the most, John E. Bravo, a bit saddened but I wasn’t about to let that rain on my parade. I went all out for this party and even made a huge banner that read, “We don’t need no stinkin’ drinkin’ to have fun” so I figured what the hell.

It started off with some finger food and some conversation starter lotto. I placed a bunch of topics in a hat that I had pre written and I randomly pulled out a topic for everyone to discuss amongst themselves. The first one I pulled out was, “If you were a non alcoholic drink, what would you be?” This was a tough one but thinking about my imposing physique I would have to say a whey protein shake with some honey and peanut butter because I’m sweet, a bit nutty, and whey cool. I’m not going to lie but that got a few laughs from the crowd, yours included.

After the formal introductions were over and everyone was feeling comfortable with each other it was time for a game of pin the tail on the designated driving donkey (because no one wants to be an ass but sometimes it is necessary to take the keys). All I can say about this game is ouch!

It was time for a little music to really get the party thumping. I decided to play my version of the safety dance. It goes:

You can drink and drive if you want to

You can leave your friends behind

but if you drink and then you drive thinking your fine

well then you’re no friend of mine

Do the safety dance, do the safety dance

and take those keys out of your pants

and hand them to a friend

that knows how to say when

so you don’t end up in the pen.

I wish more people could have been there it was a really sobering experience. The only regret was not getting to play a game of spin the non-alcoholic bottle. Oh well maybe next time.

The following idea popped into my head last night and after a brief text conversation with Wham Dickham, things started to take shape that could forever change how we spend our Valentine’s Day. It began with the simple concept of throwing an old school V-Day party with the decorated shoebox with the appropriate slot for maximum card acceptance. Everybody would bring little cards enough to pass around to say twenty people and they could go drop off their cards in said shoebox. Then it got ugly.

I figured since we’re altogether and it is a party, we are probably going to be having a few adult beverages. Thus, The logical conclusion to this is to make the V-Day shoebox party into some elaborate drinking game. The Cupidest and Stupidest party would still follow the same format but everyone that brings cards is responsible for writing little mini scenarios on them. After everyone has divvied out their proper allotment (say 20 scenario cards in the shoeboxes), the party gathers together and going around in a circle opens their V-Day scenario cards. The cards could either dole out drinks or require you to drink yourself.

For the Cupid’s Beaus and Lingerie Ho’s party, Wham and I came up with a few scenarios to provide you with examples of the type of jovial nature we would like this game to encompass. Here it goes (it gets better as the text conversation progresses):

John E. Bravo: I Choo Choo Choose you to do a half-zee

Wham Dickham: Love Stinks; take 5 drinks

John E. Bravo: You spin the bottle and it lands on _____? Hand out a shot.

Wham Dickham: No one loves you; take two cyanide tablets, just kidding take two drinks.

John E. Bravo: Cupid pulls back his bow-wo-ow and let’s his arrows go, straight to your lover’s heart. Give a half-zee to your “lover”.

Wham Dickham: You send your girlfriend roses but she is allergic, administer yourself a shot.

John E. Bravo: You theme for this year is Love Hurts by Kansas; take 7 drinks to dull the pain.

Wham Dickham: If your significant other is there send them a half-zee, if not do one yourself for being a loser without a date on V-Day.

John E. Bravo: You propose to your girlfriend and she hesitates and says, “I will get back to on that”, finish your beer.

Wham Dickham: You go to court for a domestic dispute with your old lady. Now you be the judge. What tastes better…a half-zee of whiskey or a half-zee of vodka?

John E. Bravo: You come home early in a cupid outfit only to find your best friend putting his arrow in your girl’s quiver; you shoot him in the ass with an arrow. You go to jail and miss a turn; he gets another shot.

Wham Dickham: You are at the drive in with your sweetie sitting shotgun; now you shotgun a beer.

John E. Bravo: (I end it with a flourish) you’re my favorite booger and I nose I want to pick you to start a waterfall.

John E. Bravo: You buy lingerie that is two sizes too small as a “hope” present for your chubby girlfriend. Now hope you get out of the doghouse before June. You get to do a hope half-zee, just hope some one is nice enough not to make it tequila.

John E. Bravo: You take your girlfriend to a fancy restaurant and credit card gets declined. It is cut in half-zee right in front of you. You and your significant other each get a half-zee.

John E. Bravo: Your brother records “bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks” over your romantic mixed tape. Take 8 drinks.

John E. Bravo: Your girl plays, “shot to the heart and you’re to blame, darling you give love a bad name” on the jukebox as a way to break up with you. Take that shot. 

Yesterday was the first day of fall and with the change of seasons also comes a breath of fresh air on the boob tube. The new fall line-up is just beginning with its numerous season premieres this week but I am a little worried with all the great new shows you may miss out on a few of the more obscure ones that are getting rave reviews.

This week on the outdoor channel is the season premiere of Pimp My Tree House.  I am afraid to say that this once iconic symbol, of the innocent journey of young men and woman as they explore and experience a unique sense of freedom for the first time in their tree house, has become corrupted into a den of illicit behavior. It has been transformed from an ABC (All Boy’s Club) into a DEF (Drug Enhanced Frenzy) Jam.

Parents have no one to blame but themselves because they have basically created a laboratory that their children can experiment with such sordid behavior as sniffing pixie sticks and kissing girls, which then leads to the gateway drug of smoking doobers. The tree house crowd is basically the next generation of boozers, losers, and dopers. That is where Pimp My Tree House comes into play. 

The premise of this show is that it will transform that wooden hut of hedonistic behavior that you have made for your children into a pimped out pad for Mom and Dad. Imagine if you will a place you can call your own with everything you need to escape reality for a couple of hours or maybe a whole week.

It could consist of a couple of leather massaging recliners with a 42” HDTV with the latest video game systems and satellite TV that would be the centerpiece. A kicking surround sound stereo system to drown out the whining coming from your kids or even your significant other. A fully stocked stainless steel refrigerator with numerous Adult beverages and snacks for the big game or the Lifetime Movie Marathon for the ladies would be in the corner. There would of course be a WiFi connection for checking fantasy stats and for the ladies finding recipes. Possibly a couch so you could take a nice nap on a crisp fall day. For safety sakes it would have a big slide to get you out of the tree in case you enjoyed to many adult beverages.

This is just the tip of the iceberg and you will have to tune in to see the rest of the conversions but remember kids if you go out to your old tree house and you see a neon sign blinking that says, “If the tree is a shakin’, mommy and daddy are baby makin’” then just know that your tree house has been Pimped.

As Ren says at the end of Footloose, the greatest 80’s movie ever, “Hey, hey! What’s this I see? I thought this was a party. LET’S DANCE!” The theme for the upcoming birthday bash of the year is as Astro would say, “Ruh Ro! its Retro!!”

Yes sir it is going to be an 80’s themed party at the birth celebration of one, Wicknasty. On the second stage, K.C. the sunshine man is also using his get out of jail card from the popular 80’s board game, “I’m no longer a probie, so let’s kick this habit like Reggie Roby”. For those at Less Than Zero when it comes to knowledge regarding the 80’s, he was a black punter for the Iowa Hawkeyes that was drafted by the Miami Dolphins in 1983.

So ladies throw on the side ponytail and the Jane Fonda leotard with the big saggy socks cause it is time to rock out and as the song says, “you can dance if you want to, you can leave your friends behind, but if you don’t dance then you don’t dance and then you’re no friend of mine”

And Fellas pull out the multi-colored track suits and French roll your Z Cavaricci jeans and put your left leg up, tilt your head back and finish the cup. Happy Birthday Wicknasty. See you soon.

P.S. This is invite only so if you don’t know, you ain’t in the flow.

Wicknasty is serious, This party is going to be off the hook!!