Note -Chope is defined as the combination of change and hope.
I was sitting in a dark bar last Saturday night at about 1:45 and there was a big, I mean Beck-worthy big, girl who leaned over to me and said "You look depressed." I said "You look despicable." But she didn't hear me I guess. Someone (I think it was a very nice guy with cerebral palsy or maybe it was a really ugly woman with horrific breath) was singing Enter Sandman for karaoke night. So I took a big gulp of indiscriminate lite beer, and was going to leave. But then this behemoth says "Have you been drinking all night?" I said "Chope." She said "Huh?" So I said "Chope." Then I drank the last of my beer and walked away. I did hear her say as the music died down between songs, and as I was about 15 feet away, "I feel bad for him. I wanted to tell him that things will be better when Obama is president."
I was out at a place called Charred Pork Bucket, enjoying some kind of shrimp on some kind of bread (I don't think it was pita bread or anything else that Greek people fondle) and I saw a guy watching MSNBC with the sound off (they were playing awful songs from the Jukebox - like Journey and Kansas). I believe he was watching the show hosted by the guy who used to work with the guy who always said "En Fuego." So I said pretty loudly "Chope," then waited about 10 seconds and yelled "Chope." And then an old drunk said "Who gives a fuck?" I don't think his query was directed at me. But this old dude was onto something. Or so I thought. I went over to him and was going to ask him something about growing up when people cared. But as I stood next to him I noticed he had passed out. So I just said "Chope" again and got as depressed as Bill Clinton when he is in bed with his wife. Not that she would be all happy on those rare occasions herself. I'm not saying that at all. I imagine she has a drawer full of toys and probably Lanny Davis on speed dial to "administrate" them. Yuck.
If you read the Starr Report, you - well, you don't want to read the Starr Report - you'll never want to walk into a humidor again.
Moving on ---
I was sitting at a trivia game and a question comes up about the name for a male dove. My buddy Andy says to me - "Cock?"
I said "Dude, what are you talking about?"
He said - "Do you like cock?"
"Dude"
"For the answer"
"Oh"
He was on the floor laughing. It was an excellent example of how chope is really making a difference in our everyday lives. It really was. Andy knows about that stuff. I think he watched a lot of Big Bird. I always thought Big Bird was a dirty whore. Did you ever see the length of the trunk on that imaginary elephant/woolly mammoth-type thing? Wow - call Lanny Davis and lube up Hillary...Wait - No.
I hope to hear back from my pen pal or one of his top people soon on the suggestions I sent him and shared with you in the previous post. I'll pass along the reply.
Look -I gotta go, I'm runnin' out of change, there's a lot of things, if I could I'd rearrange.
TBFH
I was sitting in a dark bar last Saturday night at about 1:45 and there was a big, I mean Beck-worthy big, girl who leaned over to me and said "You look depressed." I said "You look despicable." But she didn't hear me I guess. Someone (I think it was a very nice guy with cerebral palsy or maybe it was a really ugly woman with horrific breath) was singing Enter Sandman for karaoke night. So I took a big gulp of indiscriminate lite beer, and was going to leave. But then this behemoth says "Have you been drinking all night?" I said "Chope." She said "Huh?" So I said "Chope." Then I drank the last of my beer and walked away. I did hear her say as the music died down between songs, and as I was about 15 feet away, "I feel bad for him. I wanted to tell him that things will be better when Obama is president."
I was out at a place called Charred Pork Bucket, enjoying some kind of shrimp on some kind of bread (I don't think it was pita bread or anything else that Greek people fondle) and I saw a guy watching MSNBC with the sound off (they were playing awful songs from the Jukebox - like Journey and Kansas). I believe he was watching the show hosted by the guy who used to work with the guy who always said "En Fuego." So I said pretty loudly "Chope," then waited about 10 seconds and yelled "Chope." And then an old drunk said "Who gives a fuck?" I don't think his query was directed at me. But this old dude was onto something. Or so I thought. I went over to him and was going to ask him something about growing up when people cared. But as I stood next to him I noticed he had passed out. So I just said "Chope" again and got as depressed as Bill Clinton when he is in bed with his wife. Not that she would be all happy on those rare occasions herself. I'm not saying that at all. I imagine she has a drawer full of toys and probably Lanny Davis on speed dial to "administrate" them. Yuck.
If you read the Starr Report, you - well, you don't want to read the Starr Report - you'll never want to walk into a humidor again.
Moving on ---
I was sitting at a trivia game and a question comes up about the name for a male dove. My buddy Andy says to me - "Cock?"
I said "Dude, what are you talking about?"
He said - "Do you like cock?"
"Dude"
"For the answer"
"Oh"
He was on the floor laughing. It was an excellent example of how chope is really making a difference in our everyday lives. It really was. Andy knows about that stuff. I think he watched a lot of Big Bird. I always thought Big Bird was a dirty whore. Did you ever see the length of the trunk on that imaginary elephant/woolly mammoth-type thing? Wow - call Lanny Davis and lube up Hillary...Wait - No.
I hope to hear back from my pen pal or one of his top people soon on the suggestions I sent him and shared with you in the previous post. I'll pass along the reply.
Look -I gotta go, I'm runnin' out of change, there's a lot of things, if I could I'd rearrange.
TBFH
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