Monday, July 30, 2012

I wanna be so scared that I shit myself... on TV

There is a show on Syfy called Scare Tactics that I just love.  It's like Candid Camera (if you're old enough to remember that shit. If not, fuck you! Google it!!!). Except instead of playing practical jokes on people, they scare the shit out of them. But the best part is that you can email the show to set up someone you know for a good scare.

Fuck YEA Tracy Morgan!!!

Needless to say, I have been begging Eddie for years to email the show and have them come scare the shit out of me.  Ask me how many times Eddie has emailed them... 

... Go ahead ask me...

No ice cream and NO SCARE TACTICS!!!

Zero.  None.  Nada. That's a big fat NO!  I think it's because he secretly hates me...   

I know what you're thinking...  "Valerie, why the hell would you want someone to scare you and then put it on national television?"  Because I love being scared, that's why!  DON'T JUDGE ME!!!  I mean, we're not talking about some lame jumping-out-from-behind-something-BOO!  This will be epic.  There will be professional actors... and props... and hopefully a midget... I mean.  This is the big times, guys. BIG. TIME.

Big Time Scares make you want to rip your own face off... I want that.

What scares me, you ask?  Clowns and ghosts, motherfuckers... Clowns and ghosts.  You may also want to suggest that there be a midget there for the post-scare moment when everyone is trying to talk me down whilst I breathe into a paper bag and cuss like a sailor.  Because I'm gonna need a hug...  In fact, I'm gonna need a hug that only a midget can give.


So, if you all love me, you should email the Scare Tactics website at and hook a bitch up.  I promise it will be funny as hell, and will entail me running away and screaming like a little girl.  And, if you're lucky, I just may pee myself.

The Post-Scare Hug Moment.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Just incase I die first...

Last week a thought hit me...  It hit me like a hooker hitting the wall after a 5 week cocaine bender.  I bet Eddie doesn't have plans for my funeral. 

As such, I have started a list of things I would like done at my funeral...  Because I am a nice person.  And if Eddie gets it wrong, he will have to deal with me haunting him forever.  Even when he dies and becomes a ghost too.  Because nobody escapes my wrath.... NOBODY!!!!!!

So, my dearest Eddie, here is a list of things that you will need to plan for incase I go first.

  • First of all, I want everyone to be dressed as their favorite superhero.  Anyone not in superhero garb will be beaten and removed from the premises.
Take your pick or make up your own! The fun is never ending!!

  • I want my funeral to be a surprise party.  Just because I did not get one in life, does not mean that I should have to suffer in the afterlife.  After everyone arrives, I want my coffin to be wheeled out.  Everyone is to yell "SURPRISE!!!!" and throw confetti and shit. 
  • Obviously, I would like to be buried in Kenny's shorts and with Scooby...  I really shouldn't even have to write this part down, EDDIE.  
The Dream Team
  • A few years ago, me and Eddie went to a horror convention and were super siked to meet Lou Ferrigno since we are both huge fans of the Incredible Hulk.  Unfortunately, he turned out to be an asshole.  Not like a straight up asshole, but you could tell that he didn't want to be there.  He pretty much brushed off our enthusiasm and squished out hopes and dreams with his indifference.  Should I outlive him, he is to give free hugs and autographs to everyone there.  And he must be dressed up like the Hulk.  

You owe me this, Lou.  Do the right thing
  • During the entire funeral, Morgan Freedman is to narrate what I would be thinking at each moment.  There is no need to tell him what to say, Eddie.  Morgan will know...  He always knows.

He'd narrate the fuck out of it.
  • At some point during your touching speech about how awesome I was and how you don't know how you'll go on without me, I want a group of ninjas to bust in.  The leader is to make some menacing monologue in Japanese (so it sounds legit), cursing me and threatening my friends.  At this point, I would like my body to spring to life and kick their asses.  (I know what you're thinking... HOW?!?  There are a few options here.  You could do one of the following: hire someone who looks like me to play the part of me, fill my body with bionic parts like Robocop, have a highly trained awesome person wear my skin and fight, or resurrect me using your necromancy skills.  It's not really that difficult when you put some thought into it.)
Beat their asses, bionic Val!!!

  • I would like to be cremated with everyone there.  Whilst this shit is going down, I think it would be appropriate to have a magician doing tricks for the crowd.  But not a lame magician, Eddie...  A LEGIT one.  Like Gob from Arrested Development.
"It's an illusion, Michael. A trick is something a whore does for money... or candy"

  • Once I'm all crispy, I want a small part of my ashes to be mixed with a bottle of tequila.  You may want to try to get boob ashes for this.  Everyone is to do shots of me...  So I can posses their souls - MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!  uhhhhh.... I mean... So, I can be a part of everyone I love.  Forever. 
Don't be a pussy.  Of course you're ready.

  • The balance of my ashes are to be spread over Harry Potter Land.  DUH!!!
You're about to be covered in my dna, bitch.

  • I know I shouldn't even have to mention this, but I will... 2 words:  Midgets Everywhere.  Pallbearers. Hostesses.  Tequila shot servers dressed as sunflowers.  Remember:  You can never have enough midgets.
  • Although I am not to be buried, because I do not want to one day rise from the grave as a filthy zombie (BECAUSE I'M A RESPONSIBLE ADULT), I would still like to have a tombstone.  But I want it to be a statue of me dressed as a samurai disemboweled by my own sword.  This show the world that I didn't go down like no punk bitch.  For eternity.  On my tombstone I would like it to say something bad ass like...  "Here Lies Valerie Nunez.  Daughter, Wife, Mother, Fucking Hero.  You're welcome, World."  

Please note that this is a working copy of my list and it could be updated at any time.

Also, Eddie, just so you know, I was a little disappointed that you didn't start this list on your own.  But I felt better when I pretended to be you at the store, and bought me these awesome ninja socks.  You always know how to make things right, baby...  I love you. 

You may want to bury me in these socks too. 

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Only YOU can protect yourself from Zombies... Because I will trip your ass.

So last weekend, me and 2 of my awesome friends partook in a weekend filled of Zombie Apocalypse Survival Training.  It is held by a group of bad asses in South Jersey.  No, really...  The only person I know who is more bad ass than these fuckers is probably me.  But, they would give me a run for my money.  You can read more about the camp here.

Stephanie, Me and Liz:  Team Lasagna Box

The weekend is from Friday evening through Sunday afternoon.  There is a plethora of skills taught.  Survival in a post apocalyptic world.  How to find shelter, food and water.  How to hot wire a car.  Gun training.  Zombitzu fighting.  Crossbow shooting.  I mean, the list goes on.  And every last bit of if was not only interesting and helpful, but also taught with fun and charm by the trainers.  I have never met such a fantastic group of people who really know their stuff.  When shit goes down, there is no question.  These people will survive!!! 

Team Kick Your Fucking Teeth In

Stephanie, Liz and I arrived Friday around 6:30pm and were promptly welcomed by Sue and Mark.  They offered us beer and food.  We took the beer... Because that's how we roll.  We were given a quick tour of our place for the weekend, which was an old hunting lodge that the trainers rent out for the class.  It was roomy and comfy.  Upstairs were the bedrooms.  Basically barracks which were co-ed and shared with the other teammates.  Not too bad. 

Even our GPS was all "Where the FUCK are you going?!?"

The only real issue I had was the bathroom.  It was downstairs off the dining area and contained 2 stall toilets, 2 sinks and a stall shower.  Not much privacy.  Also, situated across from the shower stall was a chair, which I lovingly named the Jerk Off Chair.  It actually turned out not to be so bad, since me and my girls ended up Bogarting the whole bathroom and took turns showering and guarding the door.  Because if this were a real survival situation, you shower in teams and watch each other's backs.  We take our survival weekends seriously.  Also, by the end of an evening of drinking, we may have been a wee bit drunk... Which explains all the inappropriate shower pictures on my camera.  What can I say?  Girls will be girls.

Bathroom Gophers

"I don't usually jerk off, but when I do... I use The Jerk Off Chair."

This is what you get when you stay in the bathroom too long...  REAL MATURE GUYS!!!

Saturday morning we woke up early and started on our training.  Various survival skills were discussed as well as a fun discussion on the strengths and weaknesses of zombies.  And then we moved on to hot wiring a car.  I. WAS. SO. EXCITED.

I'm kind of a big deal...

The trainer who taught us was Ed, lovingly referred to as The Reverend.  He was probably one of the coolest guys I have ever met, and I was immediately smitten.  Anyone who can build a generator out of rudimentary objects and has a prison-cell like room in their basement filled with various weapons is immediately on my "OMG. I love you" list.  Hot wiring a car was confusing at first; however, with the gentle guidance of The Reverend, I mastered the skill in no time.  I am quite confident that I would be able to rig it up on my own.  He even went through where to find fuel when the shit hits the fan, what kind of fuel is best and how long we have until it all goes bad.  Basically, most fuel will be useless in about 9 months or so.  I will be working on bringing up my biking and cardio skills.  I suggest you all do the same.

The best vehicle of the Zombie Apocalypse.

The melee fighting lessons were also fun.  Basically, you can kill or injure anyone with just about anything you have lying around the house.  Even a Twizzler.  No, really.  The best was watching the demonstration on how to beat a zombie and/or attacker with a chair.  We learned where to hit a zombie to bring that fucker down.  Elbow, knee, base of the skull, Bitches!!!

I will beat you, then sit on you.

Would you say you have a plethora of weapons?

My. Favorite. :o)

Of course, me and Stephanie took it up a notch and just started beating the hell out of each other with sticks.  Because, as the trainers put it, there's always at least one in every group.  And that's usually us.  Well, it was all fun and games until the vagina shots started.  Then shortly after I yelled "You just bruised my uterus!" training was over.

Liz shows off her mad kneecapping skillz

Saturday night was the SHIT!  Playing Apples to Apples with alcohol and a bunch of people I don't know is pretty fucking fun.  Mostly the alcohol part because I think we all know about my social anxiety issues.  If not, well...  Now you do.  Stephanie and I finished up Saturday by getting a little drunk and watching zombie movies with some of the others.  It was fun and I may have peed a little from all the laughing.

Although, we did get reprimanded by people who went to sleep early that evening... on a Saturday night...  whist they were away from home with no responsibilities... and a shit ton of zombie movies begging to be watched... and beer...  But, whatever.  To each their own.  I'm the kinda gal who likes to have some giggles and good conversation and make the best of my time.  Sometimes you meet people who like to go to bed early and be grumpy and give you dirty looks.

The Group.  I'll let you judge on your own.

Let me take this moment to point out that I am putting together a band of people to do this again next year and with 16 I can book the whole place.  Because I think, although it was the most awesome weekend imaginable, it would be even better when you are surrounded by fun, like-minded people who don't take life too seriously and know how to have a good time.

Moving on.... 


Ok guys... I'm gonna clear the area. Then we're all going out for ice cream.

Rifles and pistols and shotguns, OH MY!!!  I was so excited about the guns, that by the time it came to shoot them I was shaking.  I naturally shake when I get nervous or excited...  much like a chihuahua.  And I was excited.  Some might say too excited.  In fact, let's just say if I were a dude, I would have been pitching a tent all day... Then poking people with it... Until someone probably shot me for sneaking up on them...  Which is probably why the Gods did not, in their infinite wisdom, choose to give me a penis. 


The Gun is my Penis.

Where were we?  Ahhhh, yes...  Someone let me play with guns.

I will find you... And I will kill you.

Safety was the #1 priority there.  There was never a point when the guns were out that any alcohol was available.  And we were all taught the basic safety laws prior to being allowed to shoot any weapons.  This shit was LEGIT!!

Chicks with Dic... I mean, Guns..
Stephanie had problems closing one eye, so she had a handy dandy human eye patch

But, OH THE FUN WE HAD!  My favorite had to be the shotguns.  They gave a hell of a kick and made me feel like quite the bad ass.  We even got to shoot the clay pigeons. I hit 2 out of 3... Then promptly jizzed in my pants.

You're welcome, America.

And then something weird happened.  Something I didn't expect.  I fell in love.  I fell in love... with a crossbow.  A crossbow is what would happen if a gun and a bow fucked and had a baby.  I suspect it was created by some mad scientist in Russia or by some drunken redneck.  Where ever it came from it matters not for I know exactly where it's going.  Home with me.  Sorry, Eddie.  You just lost your place in the bed.

I'm sorry I'm not sorry, Eddie.

At the end of the weekend, there was an obstacle course.  Now, I am not really a competitive person, except when it comes to Monopoly.  But we don't play Monopoly anymore.  Not since what has become known as The Incident.  Eddie made the mistake of buying Park Place back in '97 and rubbed it in my face like an asshole.  So I flipped the board and told him to go fuck himself.  I'm sure you'll all agree that he kinda had that coming.  Nobody buys Park Place on my watch... Not nobody.

When shit gets real.

Well, for the obstacle course we were spit into 3 teams.  Our team consisted of us 3 and 2 men (a dad and his 17 year old son) that journeyed from Texas to take part in the camp. (YES it is THAT awesome!)  As it turns out, they were the most awesome people ever!  Calm and collected through the whole ordeal.  They helped calm my nerves about me worrying that we would not win, and I would be letting them down.  They gave me a jolly wink, nod and a "Just breathe and have fun.  We're already winners."  I mean, wow.  And as it turns out, the dad worked in an ER, so he was our GUY for the first aid segment of the obstacle course.

"Calm the fuck down, Val."

The obstacle course was a timed event that each team had to go through twice.  Best time took the fucking cake. This is how shit went down:

  1. Team runs out of house and 2 people (Stephanie and Liz) have to use melee training (elbow, knee hits only) to take down 2 trainers pretending to be zombies.
  2. 2 members of team (Me and Stephanie) must fire crossbow and hit within the targeted area
  3. 1 member (Texas Dad) must do 2 sutures on a gross decaying pig leg
  4. 4 members (Everyone minus Stephanie) must a fire paintball gun at 4 different zombie targets getting head shots 
  5. 1 member (Texas Son) must sniper rifle shoot a can of shaving cream from really really far away
  6. successful hot wiring of a car  (Me)

We were Team Number One, so we got to start it off.  By this point I was on the verge of a panic attack.  For real.  There was lots of smack talk from other teams.  I would have been ok with doing the whole obstacle course if no one were watching.  But the fact that there were people watching really fucked me up.  I don't do well in front of crowds.  Call it public speaking phobia, call it social anxiety, call it whatever.  But if there are more than 3 people around, I lock up.

What?!?  Me??  Shy???  Go figure.

Let me take you back for a moment, if I could, to a time when I was about 18 and Eddie brought me to a family party to introduce me to everyone when we first started dating.  When I saw so many  people in one place (his family is gianormous), I shut down.  No, really.  I sat in a chair in the corner and stared at the table.  Finally Eddie came over to me and said the following immortal words:  "Valerie...  You've got to get out of that chair and start talking to people.  Everyone is starting to think that you're retarded or something."  Luckily, it was at that party that Eddie's cousin introduced me to alcohol.  And things really just sorted themselves out after that.

This really is my zombie killing shirt.

But there was no alcohol allowed on this course so I just had to deal.  I put on my big girl pants and handled my shit like an adult.  We made it through with no incident.  Well, Liz did black out and take a trainer out with a head shot... But that shit was just funny.  Everything else went  rather smoothly.  Our team worked really well together.  And what sealed the deal was having an ER dr on our team.  He was MVP all the way with his awesome stitching skills.  But we all played our part and did really well.  We all fucking rocked that shit out like the heroes we are.

I would like to tell you that we won.  I would love to tell you that we kicked everyone's ass.  But that would be....  THE. FUCKING. TRUTH!!!!

Team #1 is team #1.  Period.

First round we knocked that shit out in 3 minutes and 51 seconds.  Team 2 did it in about 7 minutes and even got a do-over for some crossbow mishap.  Team 3 did it in 5 mins.  Second round we came back with a motherfucking vengeance and did the whole course in 3 mins and 19 seconds.  Team 2 was around 5 mins and Team 3 was just under 4.  And what made it even sweeter was that we were the only team that didn't talk shit.  Because I never talk shit when I compete... Until I win.  Then I sing...  Join me, motherfuckers!!!

And THAT, my friends, is how you end a fucking awesome weekend.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Johnny 5 is Alive!!!! (That's code for "I didn't die during Zombie Survival Training.")

It's also a fantastic movie reference.  I hope you get it.  If not, ;o\  

That's my disappointed stroke face.

Anyway...  I am just dropping in to say I am alive!!!!  I was kicking ass and taking names all weekend at Zombie Survival Training!  I am working on a post to share the amazingness that was my weekend with you.  I will have it up either tomorrow or Wednesday.

Here is a lil taste of pure awesome...

Yes.  Someone let me play with guns....

Also, if you are looking for my last post about what I was gonna do, it's gone.  For some reason, Blogger decided to delete the whole post instead of just letting me update it.  Anger doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about that.  

BLOGGER, YOU ARE A MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER!!!!  One day I will figure out how to have my own sight and leave your ass.  And then, I will find you.  And I will kill you.  Just like Liam Neeson.  Fucking bitch.

You're already dead, Blogger... You just don't know it yet.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

World Domination Made Easy

Conversation between me and Eddie:

Eddie:  You know... There's gonna be a lot of people from the cast of The Walking Dead at the Horror Con we go to next month.

Me:  Is it weird that I want to buy a mannequin arm and make them all sign it?

Eddie:  .....  For you?  Not at all.

Me:  This could be my "thing"... You know.  Everyone has their thing.  Mine can be making people sign mannequin parts.  I already have Anthony Michael Hall and the cast of Blair Witch on my mannequin hands.

Eddie:  Why?

Me:  OH MY GOD!!!  Then I could combine all the parts at some point and make an actual mannequin!!!!

Eddie:  Again... Why?

Me:  HOLY SHIT!!!  I bet with all the power of the famous signatures, the mannequin would come to life.  Like Pinnochio and shit!

Eddie:  .....

Me:  EDDIE!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!?!  I WILL HAVE A MANNEQUIN TO DO MY EVIL BIDDING!!!  It's like the first episode of Dr. Who.  But better.  Because there is no Time Lord to stop me.

Eddie: ....

Me:  You know what a mannequin minion means?!?!  NO MOTHERFUCKING FINGERPRINTS!!!!  THE WORLD IS OURS!!!  Now, can I have your credit card number to order the mannequin arm?

Eddie:  Sigh.

Me:  You gotta spend some to get some.  That phrase works with world domination plans and hookers, Eddie.  Remember that always.

The world shall be MINE!!!!  MUAHAHAHAHA!

Monday, July 9, 2012

You know what the trouble about real life is? There's no danger music.

The family and I dig Medieval Times.  But, like, probably at an unhealthy level.  We frequent there a few times a year.  In fact, I have a stack of MT pictures of our family and friends that I have collected over the years.  One of the oldest pictures I have of me and Eddie is from there.

This isn't the old one.  That's somewhere at the bottom of my closet.  In a box. Of stuff.  They'll probably find it when I die and my shit's being cleaned out. I apologize in advance for anything embarrassing that may be found.

We always get hats.  Because Princesses deserve real hats.

For those of you who don't know shit about MT, shame on you.  If you don't live by one, I am truly sorry.  If you don't care, then...  Ouch, you hurt my soul.  Anyway, you can read up here.  The show is always the same.  However, once every few years, they change it up.

So you could imagine my excitement when I heard that they just started a new show.  No?  Ok...  Imagine Spongebob REALLY excited about something.  That's pretty much it. I take my MT cheering seriously.


Various quotes from me & Eddie at MT:


Eddie:  Do you think that they'll bring the wizard back?

Me: Red knight goin down!  Goin down, down down!  

Eddie (When the new character enters to talk to the king):  Do you think he's a wizard?

Me (When the new character enters to talk to the king):  DON'T TRUST HIM KING DON CARLOS!!! THE MUSIC IS TOO OMINOUS!!!  HE'S OBVIOUSLY EVIL!!!  DON'T TRUST HIM YOU FOOL!!!

Eddie:  The green knight is good now?!?  This is bullshit!!!

My family with my bro's family a couple of years ago
I once got in trouble for putting Jasmyn on my shoulders to help her get a flower from the knight.  If you've never had the pleasure of attending, the knights partake in various challenges.  When they win, they get flowers to throw into the crowd.  And at the end of the show, each knight picks one girl from their section to be queen of Beauty and Love.  It is a great honor.  

Alyssa and the coveted Flower

Jazz and The Flower

The girls and I have been chosen various times for either catching a flower or Queen of Beauty and Love.  Because I will pimp out my kid like a mom on Toddlers and Tiaras to get them.  I know, it's horrible.  But we just have such a great time yelling like fools.  And the knights like enthusiasm (Not to mention my kids are too adorable.  Who wouldn't pick them?  Though my boobies are Plan B.  Knights like boobies too.)

Boobies helped get this.

I take my cheering very seriously, much to the obvious delight of my family.

Anyway, if you haven't gone, trust me, it's pretty fun.  And there is a bar there, so.... YAY!  Liquor!  I highly recommend.  If you go and don't like it, just remember, I can entertain myself for hours with a a marker and my own toes.  So, it was your own fault for trusting me.

Just look at these faces.  This shit is entertaining.

And if you don't think so... This is what I do to my toes when I get bored.  Then I play Toe Town.  True story.