Get 2 Choppin

Sometimes in life we get caught up in the emotion of things and as a result we all express ourselves in different ways. Sporting events are the best example of the wide range of routes available when it comes to the art of expressing ourselves. We have all seen the shirtless child dancing on the big screen (next to the hot mom), the crazy face painted fan screaming in the camera as a reporter tries to do an interview, the drunken adult male jumping up in excitement and raining beer on the other fans surrounding him as his team scores a goal or hits a pivotal three, the sultry bimbo pressing her tantalizing ta-tas up against the glass (if you haven’t I suggest a Youtube session is in order), the close up of the losing cheerleaders as a tear runs down their face because they know they are going to be getting “hate humped” later that night by Johnny Choke Artist, or the two random dudes doing the jumping hug routine until they realize that one, they don’t know each other, and two, they are both slightly aroused by it and confused at the same time.

     That is why I find it absolutely necessary to incorporate the concept of the random WOO! This random WOO! idea is a must because it allows an individual to keep that reserve level of emotional fuel at a manageable level especially in times of excitement. For instance, if you are standing at the bar with your buddies as they are talking to a couple of lovely ladies this is a prime example of a time that calls for the random WOO! It not only calls attention to yourself but it inconspicuously draws the attention of the ladies away from your friends and thus attacks as an unintended cock block.

     Any place where you have to stand in line for an extended period of time can be viewed as another perfect opportunity for a random WOO! or two. If you are in line at the bank or the Secretary of State (Department of Motor Vehicles for some of you) just start dropping the WOO!s and people will either think you’re crazy and get out of your way or if you throw in the fake Bluetooth and drop the line, “and the contractions are how far apart?” they may believe that you are about to be a father and graciously offer you their spot in line.  

       The most delicate place to drop the random WOO! is at a funeral or at a wedding ceremony (anybody can drop them at the reception but you get high marks if you drop the random WOO! at a wedding you have crashed). This is for the expert WOO!ers only. I once dropped the random WOO! when the priest asked if there was any objections to the two getting married. Don’t worry I covered my tracks by saying, “Sorry, I just won a hundred dollars because I was sure the bridesmaid he cheated on his fiancé with wouldn’t say anything” then I ran out of there and yelled, “WOO! that was close”.

Being that I am out in the wild, wild west I have decided to try my hand at penning the ultimate Western Ballad. It goes like this:

First Verse:

I came all this way to hunt my dream woman on the left coast

I don’t want to brag but I am better than most

So I sat down to have a beer

and ponder the fact that I might be queer

cause I ain’t yet found my California dear

Second Verse:

I hopped on a plane and flew out west

figured I’d just show up and give ‘em my best

I pulled out the big guns, I mean I flexed my left and then right arm

Damn I even showed them what I call the “thumb charm” 

But they all slapped my face and said, “cowboy, go back to your farm”

Chorus:

These Calfornia dear got big racks

One look will stop you in your tracks

The natives call them, “el grande hornos”

One might think they were in mucho pornos

But I’m no judge and that’s not why I’m here

I just want to kiss a California dear

Third Verse:

I’m just sitting here nursing my drink

figuring out what to do but it hurts to think

So without missing a beat, I yell “bartender, another drink and make it sing”

I keep my head down knowing failure is an ugly thing

Until she hands me my drink and I see she ain’t got no wedding ring

Fourth Verse:

The skies were cloudy and it was about to rain

I felt like I was carrying every lonely man’s pain

I even started to question my own damn game

until that Brittany Spears looking bartender, i forget her name

Said with a wink and a nod, “cowboy this is one philly that needs to be tamed”

Chorus:

Well, these Calfornia dear got big racks

One look will stop you in your tracks

The natives call them, “el grande hornos”

One might think they were in mucho pornos

But I’m no judge and that’s not why I’m here

I just want to kiss a California dear

I just happened to be sitting on the public commode today and was wondering why is there such a lack of communication between not only nations and cultures but also individuals.  Then it hit me like a cold splash of toilet water from a fat turd. It is our inability as humans to have bathroom banter. Why is it that as soon as we enter the crapper our mouths pucker up tighter than a homophobic’s asshole around a gay dude?

I feel it is this inability to talk while on the porcelin that is the downfall of our so called civilized world. If we don’t even have the common decency to ask, “Hey how is everything going over on that side of the stall?”, then how will our leaders be able to ask other heads of state, “Hey how is everything going over on that side of the world?” The Russian’s Iron Curtain and the East German’s Berlin Wall are symbolic in that they are like giant stalls that were separating humanity. 

Now I am not talking about putting your hand under the stall aka Senator Craig of Idaho and looking for favors if you know what I mean; of course unless you are out of toilet paper or you just took your first solid shit in three days after having the flu and are looking for a low five before you start to wipe then you are okay.

The bathroom is a great place to talk about anything. You can be like, “Man something about that Shaquille O’Neal trade smells about as funny as this draft beer poop I just took” or “Man that David Blaine is about as slippery as a White Castle slider poop, he can get out of anything and fast” or “Damn that George Bush Jr. is about as full of it as this toilet is with this soft serve yogurt shit I just squeezed out”. See you can talk about anything. Race doesn’t matter beyond the brown wall, unless it is a friendly bet to see who gets done first.

So let’s increase the bathroom banter for the sake of humanity, and for starters you can drop this joke:

Who was the public toilets favorite rapper? of course it was Stall Wall. It would have been 2-ply until he flushed his career away.

Now Choppin’ nation you may be wondering where this one is going but don’t you fret your little heads off, because I got a doozy up my sleeves on this one (don’t worry also they are short sleeves I wouldn’t want them to get caught in the whirling blades of life). What I was thinking was that since we as choppers are pretty spontaneous people as it is, we should utilize that ability for the betterment of mankind.

So what I propose and I am down on one knee is that we do a Random Act of Choppinness aka the R.A.C., once a week until it infiltrates the whole of society and thus we will be living in a better world. This takes participation Choppin’ nation on two fronts, First, we want you to perform the random choppin’ act of the week and report back to us and Second, we also want your input on future ideas for the Random Act of Choppinness. This weeks Random Act of Choppiness aka R.A.C. is to either to start a conversation with someone you don’t know on the premise that somehow you know them but you just can’t figure it out or to walk up behind somebody and give them a big hug and call out someones name that you thought they looked like. So for instance you could walk up behind a middle-aged gentleman or woman and while hugging them yell, “Uncle Danny or Aunt Linda how have you been? I haven’t seen you forever!” So good luck and lets be random.