Get 2 Choppin

In case you’ve been living under a rock the past week or so let me inform that the latest buzz word sweeping the social media outlets is ZOWZER! I, John E. Bravo, the originator of the viral infection of ZOWZERS am challenging you to simply step outside and in a loud voice say, “ZOWZERS!”, if you can do so without feeling the rush and power of the word as it tickles your vocal chords well you are not human.

ZOWZERS has quickly become the most versatile word in the English language (not including its bastard French and Spanish versions, LE GRAND ZOWZERS and LES GRANDE ZOWZERS respectively). Its original form was one of disbelief mixed with excitement at something that crept up on you like a shot of whiskey at your first sleep over. For instance, when a car load of hotties pulls up next to you at the stop light and flashes you a smile (wink, wink) the appropriate response would be, “ZOWZERS! I’m good looking!”

Of course as words are incorporated into the vernacular of the American public there tends to be a distortion from the original usage. ZOWZERS has no come to encompass every emotion known to mankind. Someone stubs their toe and you hear, “Z@WZ#&S! That stung like a boot full of bees” or some negative Nellie doesn’t get their way and in their head they hear, “Zowzers. Wah, wah”. Even bedrooms across America have been filled with the echoes of, “UMMMMMM, ZOWZERS!” and if they are lucky, “ZOWWWWWWZERRRRRRS!”

The best part is that the overall morale of the country has been lifted while simultaneously reversing the moral decline (ZOWZERS is quickly replacing all curse words) because of the positive and uplifting influence of the word ZOWZERS!

P.S. ZOWZERS! That’s one good post!

Some say Wham Dickham and I, John E. Bravo, have been blessed with good looks. I say we have been cursed, especially when you have friends like we do. Now I’m not talking about fellow legends like K.C. the Sunshine Man and Johnny Blues because they are in the same boat of beauty as us, I am talking about our east side friends, a.k.a. the Beasts of the East, the Sisters from the Shores and their island of misfit whores, the Jefferson Gigolos, etc., etc,…

You get the point. Basically they have befriended the behemoths of beauty within the g2c legend community in a rather pathetic attempt to bring ladies closer to their spider web of sexual perversion in the hope of ensnaring one or two in their trap of temptation. This age old trick is called the beautiful letdown. They hang out with the good looking guys of g2c knowing that the ladies will not be able to resist the animal magnetism of the legend’s love lure and will gravitate toward the group.  This is where they make their move.

They then proceed to deflate the egos of the ladies by telling them that something that beautiful is out of the league of mere mortals. They inform the ladies that these gorgeous gentlemen are like museum pieces that are stared at in amazement of their beauty and exquisite shape but in the end must stay in the museum for all to admire.  What they can have from this experience though is a souvenir of the experience; something that really, really wants to be like the real museum piece but is in fact a cheap knock-off. It is a quarter of the size if you know what I mean and a lot cheaper. In reality they are purchasing a beautiful letdown. A fleeting connection to the beauty they once were in the presence of.

Morally and ethically I am opposed to this abhorrent behavior, but I do not judge my friends or find fault in them for their shortcomings (and let’s just say they have quite a few of those). Did Mother Teresa kick out the lepers? Were not Jews and gentiles included in the early church? I mean if we as legends were to just hang out with people of similar tastes and talents it would be a small gathering of goodlookingness and graciousness. Even the ugly duckling should have a chance to swim with the sexy swans.

It amuses me how some people rationalize their actions and create “sound” arguments for indulging in behaviors that ninety-nine percent of the population would deem as unhealthy. You know you might have a drug problem when you start believing that “Mary Jane” isn’t just a real person but in fact acts as your personal physician.

Relax pot puffers and don’t go licking that Cheetoh’s dust off your fingers just yet as you think about typing back a scathing retort about the benefits of a doctor prescribed doobie ( I say think, because I can almost guarantee that within the time you finish this sentence you will have lost track of your train of thought and will be glued to whatever scene from Star Wars you left off at) because I fully understand that can of worms.

What blows my mind, like a stoner finally syncing Pink Floyd with the Wizard of Oz, is the idea that anyone could think that a relatively healthy individual could benefit from moderate trips on the cannabus. Tell that to toothless Timmy the meth-head who only uses in moderation (like when his grandma leaves the backdoor unlocked and he can steal her VCR) or Clarissa the part-time crack whore. Yes, I know those examples are extreme but snap out of the purple haze you pot puffers and come up with a real argument besides I stubbed my toe and I need it to kill the pain or your quasi-philosophy of moderation that “enough‘s enough, it‘s just a puff, no need to bring in Johnny Law and get rough“.

It reasons that they don’t sell pot next to potassium in the health food store because, um well, it‘s not fucking healthy. It is not Echinacea, fish oil, or even vitamin c for Peter Tosh’s sake so don‘t try to tell me that you‘ve done the research, Mr. PhD (pot huffing degenerate) . Last time I checked applying a thick layer of resin to your lungs on a reoccurring basis was not cracking the top 100 for healthiest things you can do to your body. I can see the benefits to some one suffering from cancer and having pain and no appetite choosing this course of action but I can’t see a “healthy” person putting it on their list of super supplements.

I’m not getting into the rebellious nature of this beast, or the political purgatory that pot puffers often find themselves in. All I’m saying is don’t try to blow your silly smoke up my ass and compare the benefits to getting your recommended daily allowance of fruits and vegetables with a session on the bongos. So take your one-hitter Barry Zito and hit the showers; games over.

Side note: Don’t be thinking that you are going to be huffing and puffing and blowing this house down because we both know you don’t have the lung capacity.

Recently here at g2c, we reported on the his story of marriage. Since all is fair in love and war (two words often associated with marriage), we felt it necessary to give the female perspective to the married life. Helping us out with the female viewpoint is none other than local celebrity Vagina Void with the hermeneutics of marriage.

Vagina Void has been engaged three times, married twice and divorced once. Her first marriage was to a professional basketball player who she caught doubling dribbling if you are picking up the press that I’m trying to put on you. Luckily, in her second marriage she has settled into the butt rut of the connubial couch and has been nice enough to give us a brief glimpse into her week as a wife.

Vagina starts her week with the solid classic never fails excuse of Migraine Monday. Her husband hurries home bypassing happy hour with the hommies to run smack dab into a headache hurricane. One look as he walks in the door and he knows he is in the eye of the storm. It appears as calm as the Dalai Lama’s department head meeting but every good whether-man (whether or not he brought home flowers, whether or not he remembered an important date, whether or not he remembered to take out the garbage) knows things can change in a New York minute.

After a long day in the office putting in some overtime to save up for the family vacation, all her husband wants when he gets home is some under-time (that is under the sheets time) but unfortunately it is Too Late Tuesday for Vagina Void.

Hump day has different meanings for men and women. Men see it as half way home to the weekend and literally hump day (actually just like every other day) . Women on the other hand see this day more along the lines as, “I’ve been humping my ass around this house all day and all you do is come in and ask what is for dinner”. As soon as her husband hears this, he knows to take a cold shower and call it a night because it is Worked All Day Wednesday Without Wages and You Want What?

Take Care of it Yourself Thursday gets Vagina off the hook and with some help from a co-conspirator (a.k.a. the wife of another couple they often entertain) she can make plans for some cocktails and bored games on Forget About It Friday Friends Are Coming For Fun.

Diversion becomes the ultimate tactic on Saturday and Sunday. Vagina Void has found that it is necessary to always keep a large honey do list that involves numerous trips to Home Depot throughout the day. After distracting and diverting her husband’s attention with these handy man high jinks, she can easily slip into something a little less sexy for Already Got Sweat Pants on Saturday and Sunday.

Vagina Void wants to let people know that she does enjoy sex but by rationing it out like cheese at prisoner of war camp, she can effectively keep her husband’s balls in her purse and then dangle them over his head whenever she needs something. She believes a healthy marriage revolves around an equal amount of give and take. From the moment he said, “I do”, she takes his balls and gives them back when appropriate.

Throughout the ages, his story of marriage has been the same: a public declaration gets us some private procreation (or public if the young chap couldn’t wait for the horse and buggy to get parked in the barn).  Grandiose gratuitous visions of married life fill our hormone filled hearts and heads from a young age. Let’s just say once we’ve bought the cow all we want now is a milkshake everyday if you know what I mean.

The husband’s head, chalked full of ingenious ideas for much marital monkey business, pulses with the thought of this impending intimacy. His week starts with Massage her mammaries Monday or as he likes to informally call it Make her moanday (this can also be rolled over into a Titilating Tuesday).  

Part of a great marriage involves doing the little things like taking care of her flower garden, which makes Talk to her tulips Tuesday (wink, wink) that much more important. This selfless act will help keep the marriage meter maid from writing you a ticket for parking without a permit if you know what I mean.

Wax a whispering eye Wednesday marks the mid-week for the majority of men, but depending on your schedule it may start as a Wake up with a Willie Wednesday which makes for a great hump day.     

Thursday often gets over looked in the weekly calendar because of its proximity to Friday and the weekend but Throw her a bone Thursday is  as good as any day to put in some private pactice on her grey’s anatomy.

Typically Fridays end up being a date night with friends or other couples but don’t fret fellas because Finger bang Friday puts your fingers on the pulse of the evening. Relax guys and let your fingers doing the walking.

After a fun Friday, Saturday may turn into a quiet evening at home with a good movie. Of course, it may become a bit too much of a relaxing evening depending on your choice of movies but does that really matter when it is Slip her the slick stick while she sleeps Saturday?

Of course, we all know that Service her Sunday will play a key role in keeping you abreast of any impending calendar cancellations because of Menstruation Monday. From After Declaration to Before Consummation this is the his story of marriage.