In part one of an ongoing series; I’ll profile some of the chatters and casters of Vaughnlive. Remember, these stories are 100% true.
First, we explore the life of enigmatic internet terrorist HippyChk.
HippyChk, whose real name is Lucille Chavez, was born in the industrial city of Saltillo, Mexico. While most kids learned practical skills, such as basket weaving and cocaine smuggling, HippyChk would sit in her room for hours reading Sweet Valley High novels. Because she had very few friends, the adventures of Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield intrigued her. These stories would eventually consume her life and manifest itself into a mental illness. To this day, she still carried the burden of being unable to decipher reality from fiction. And she still believes Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield are actual people.
In school, she was bullied mercilessly. Because of her Hispanic/Yugoslavian heritage, as well as an overactive thyroid issue, she developed a weight problem. The kids called her “Le Nigress” (A direct reference to the wildly popular American sitcom “Gimmie a break”, starring no nonsense African American housekeeper Neil Harper). This abuse carried on day in and day out until finally Lucille broke. She could not remain in this place. Without her parent’s permission, she packed up all her pesos, stole a donkey and made her way North. Her destination? Sweet Valley High.
After riding for days in the sweltering Mexican heat, she reached the Texas border. As she dismounted her donkey, she noticed two things. One, her legs were permanently bowed from straddling the massive, muscular burro’s back. And two, the guys at the border wearing badges and brandishing AK-47s.
It’s too late to turn back. She sprinted toward the border, slid under the candy stripped barrier – leaving a rooster tail of Mexican sand craning into the air and dug her heels in the freedom rich soil of America. She made it. But, only half her journey was complete.
With no money, no family and no pot to piss in, she realized she needed a job. Because of her argumentative, overbearing, smart alecky nature, only one profession would suit her personality. She decided to become a lawyer.
She found a fellow Mexican selling lobsters out the back of his El Camino. With nothing to offer but her body, they made an “arrangement”. Details of this arrangement are murky so I won’t speculate. After all, this is a serious biography and I will NOT let my reputation be sullied by posting hearsay. But, she made it to Harvard, from Texas.
Lucille was a stellar student. And, despite her weight problem, was very popular amongst the students and staff. One particular staff member was enamored by her charm, wit and intelligence. This staff member was her student advisor – Barack Obama.
One day, while helping him file papers, their student/teacher relationship took a turn. Barack eyes briefly caught a glimpse of her heaving bosom. Her butter pecan complexion shone bright under his office lights. Her wide hips made his Kenyan blood boil with lust. He wanted to butter her bread.
But Barack was a man of integrity. So rather than let his animalistic desires ravage her thick, immigrant body – he quit his job. Yes, HippyChk is responsible for Barack Obama leaving Harvard to become a politician. And yes, this story is true.
To confirm this story I was going to post her transcripts from Harvard. Unfortunately, there is no record of her attending. During enrollment, when each student is required to register, HippyChk refused to sign in.
Now, with degree in hand and millions of dollars in her bank account, she continued her pilgrimage to Sweet Valley High. As she boarded a plane to California, she met someone who would be a role model. An inspiration. Someone she would emulate for the rest of her life. One would say this person is her hero.
They talked for hours on the flight. Cracked jokes, shared laughs, and cuddled a bit. HippyChk expressed her fears of moving to California and her role model would comfort her.
“I bet California is a shithole” said HippyChk.
“Don’t worry, darling. No matter what, you’ll always have me” said her Role Model.
The plane lands and from her window seat she sees – California, a picturesque portrait of rolling hills, lush moss covered mountains and soft orange pastel streaked sunsets. This place can be described as anything but a shithole.
“This place is a shithole” says HippyChk.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. I believe in you” said her role model.
They kiss on the lips and embrace.
“How will I ever find you again” asked HippyChk.
“I have a show. Come by sometime. Just go to Vaughnlive.tv and look up CookieLipshitz.”
“Thank you. I’ll never forget you. You complete me”.
And with one more kiss, the parted ways. And CookieLipshitz was right. HippyChk was ok. And HippyChk would like to publicly thank her for her guidance and immeasurable love.
HippyChk. Rebel. Lawyer. Weight Watchers patron. She lives by her own rules. Somewhere she’s walking across a California beach, joint in one hand, guitar slung low across her back, still searching for her own little Sweet Valley High.