I had this song on vinyl when i was a kid. I remember rocking it out on my Fischer Price record player along with my ‘Big Mac’ special sauce jingle record I got from Mcdonalds and an old ‘Mad’ sketch that I found in my grandfathers basement…some sort of flimsy insert that you must have gotten out of the back of the magazine, and the amazing part is it still works! One thing i distinctly remember about the chipmunks album though was that there were three grasshoppers on the cover rocking out in the palm of Dave’s hand? So here is the interpretation of those snotty little rodent’s song:
The Chipmunk Song – Alvin And The Chipmunks
chipmunks are the number one favorite food item of top tier predators when the snow covers the ground and things begin to freeze over. Wolves, hawks, eagles, foxes, owls, stoats, weasels, ferrets, wolverines, mongooses, coyotes, bobcats, lynx, house cats….everybody loves to eat chipmunks! These chipmunks pathetic little lives were spared from almost certain damnation and they show absolutely no respect.
Sure, they’re forced to sing against their will, but Simon and Theodore are such arrogant little pricks in the way they not only accept, but EXPECT the praise and compliments. And Alvin, don’t even get me started on Alvin…can’t keep his grubby little hands off the gifts, and his mind on the game. Singing is what Alvin does best and the little shit only wants to talk about his god damn hula hoop. Did it ever occur to you Alvin, that the only reason you didn’t the hula hoop in the first place was because they were all sold out at the store!? Did it ever occur to you that maybe you weren’t the only ungrateful little asshole who wanted that stupid thing this christmas and that Dave probably stood in line outside of Montgomery Wards for HOURS shoving women out of the way just for the chance to get his hands on one?
So while your brethren are outside scouring the landscape in desperate search for all of those walnuts they buried during the fall, freezing night after night huddled into the shallow burrow they’ve dug for themselves, paralyzed with fear that the nesting garter snakes under the porch will suddenly awaken after the first thaw searching for the closest delicious fuzzy meal…you’re inside, warm and cozy in the shoe box bed and felt pajamas Dave so carefully made for you sipping on hot cocoa being a royal pain in the ass.
here’s your stupid hula hoop.
*and a photo of that weird album just for reference (and total nostalgia) :
