Thursday, January 31, 2013

If only I had caught that damned tribble... Things would have beendifferent.

Tuesday night - 3am

Me:  (sits up in bed and grabs at the blanket)

Eddie:  wha... What?!  Why are you grabbing my foot?!

Me:  there's something in the bed with us...

Eddie:  yea. My foot.  Go back to sleep.

Me:  (gets out of bed). I think it went under the bed!!

Eddie:  you're sleeping.  Get in bed.

Me: (looks under bed). It's under there...

Eddie:  YOU ARE INSANE!!  There is nothing under there!!  It was my foot!  GET BACK IN BED!!

Me:  no?  Really?  Well... This is embarrassing... (Gets in bed and falls asleep immediately)

To be honest, I really did see something.  And I'm 97% sure it was one if those tribbles from Star Trek.  My plan was to catch it and breed it to sell on the Internet.  Trekkies love tribbles...  So do bitches.  We were gonna be millionaires.  I'm not sure why Edie hates money, but first my Everest photobomb plan and now this?!  I'm starting to worry about him.

P.S.  Don't forget to enter the giveaway in my last post!!  I'd place a link to it here but my computer is being an asshole so I had to do this post from my iPad...  Which coincidentally is also being an asshole.  It's a frustrating as all fuck night!!!!  But, seriously... Check out the mannequin arm giveaway.  Your life could very well depend on it...

Monday, January 28, 2013

Can you say MANNEQUIN ARM GIVEAWAY?!?! I sure bet you can!!!

It's happened guys!!  I have successfully bred my male and female mannequin arms!  Please welcome the new baby!!

She's a little shy, but you can tell she's meant for grand adventures!

Mating mannequin arms is harder than one would think.  At first they wanted nothing to do with each other and even tussled. But luckily, after they talked it through, things got increasingly better...  Hell, they even partook in some pillow talk!

Let's get it on....

And after setting the mood with some incense, lighting and a little bit of Barry White in the background, they were ready to get it on.  It was a bit creepy...  Even for me. So I left them to it.

Uhh... I'm gonna go out in the hall, guys.

The birth was just gross...  You haven't really lived until you've watch a mannequin arm eat its own placenta.  But the trials and tribulations were worth it!!  Because now I get to share my strange fascination with mannequin parts with one lucky friend.

The happy family!

I can smell your excitement...  To enter, all you have to do is comment below and let me know how you would raise your baby mannequin arm.  Sweet and sassy?  World domination?!  Let me know!  Winner will be chosen at random.  If you want and extra shot at winning, become a follower of the blog too and double your chances to win!  Winner will be announced next week!!

Who will be the lucky winner?!?  Only time can tell!!  Or, a legit psychic.

Good Luck!!



Thursday, January 24, 2013

Can I get a WHOOT WHOOT, Motherfuckers?! Probably not... But I can damn well try.

Wow!!!  I owe you all a ginormous thank you.  And a hug...  With a little bit of inappropriate touching.  Just a bit though, not enough where it's creepy.  Why, you ask?  Because of this...

Fuck YEA!!!!

I was picked for the People's Choice Award on the Dude Write's DuddETTE Write Contest!!!!  This surprisingly has nothing to do with me having, as my doctor calls it, "an alarmingly high amount of testosterone for a woman" (which may explain my need to dominant hump things).  What it means is that I received the most votes by the people for having an awesome blog.  And to be picked when being up against such spectacular other blogs makes the award that much more special.  I am literally speechless.  Which, if you know me, doesn't happen often.  Seriously...  Ask Eddie.  I hardly ever shut up.

High testosterone means that ninja fighting with bears is just another awesome hobby. 

I want to first off thank Mandy at Wino on a Ramble for not only giving me the heads up to the contest in the first place, but also introducing me to a wonderful new blog to follow!  

Secondly, I want to thank all of you who voted for me.  When I started this blog last spring, I really thought that the only people who would read it were friends and family...  And mostly because they're scared not to because I may or may not give random quizzes.  But to actually have people that not only read this thing, but comment and follow, is amazing.  And not once has anyone called the authorities to have my crazy ass arrested.  Which means a lot.  Because I'll be damned if I go back to the nuthouse.  No.  Fucking.  Way.  People throw poo there...  But, like, actual feces and not melted chocolate to freak the kids out.

"That's not real poo, kids...  or... is it?  Bum Bum BUMMMMMMM!"

So, as a grand THANK YOU to all you wonderful people, I will be doing a special giveaway post this Sunday.  I don't want to ruin the surprise so I won't say what it is...  But here is a hint:  I have successfully bred my male and female mannequin arms...  And she is due to give birth any minute now.  So be sure to stop by Sunday and enter!!

What is the gestation period on mannequin arms?!?

Thanks again, motherfuckers!!  I love you all so fucking hard!

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Fact: Pygmy Hippos are Assholes

I had a great post prepared for tonight.  But Eddie said no.  Something about him being uncomfortable with me taking pictures whilst he slumbered and posting them online.  So I am not able to share my "I love Eddie even when he falls asleep first and I'm bored" scrapbook. 

Apparently I'm "batshit crazy"...  I beg to differ.

So instead I will tell you of the time I was attacked by a Pygmy hippo.  It was the summer of '95 and I was working at a local zoo.  I was helping out one of the zookeepers clean the pens.  All in all it was a glorious day... The sun was shining.  I got to milk the goat and feed some baby animals, including a tiger. It was just a good god damn day.


Not a Dramatization.  That's really me with a motherfucking tiger.  THAT'S HOW BADASS I AM.

Unfortunately, fate was about to try to eat me.

Never trust a hippo...  Or a politician.

As much as society frowns upon true love between animal and man, there have been known to be exceptions.  Beauty and the beast...  Siegfried, Roy and the tiger that didn't eat Roy...  Sometimes, animals make conscious decisions to say "fuck you" to society and love whomever they god damn please.  Thus was the case with a certain Pygmy hippo at the zoo and a zookeeper named Tommy.


"I did not eat this man."

When a Pygmy hippo falls for a man, not the usual hints of attraction will do.  I mean, she can't put on her fancy pants and go strutting around the joint.  It would just be ridiculous... And where would she even find pants that big... Never mind actually get them buttoned.  She has no thumbs!!  But this is neither her nor there.  Our heroine decided that she would show affection to Tommy by not eating him when he cleaned the pen.  Unfortunately for me, this rule did not apply to me. 

It's just not possible.

I remember it like it was yesterday...  Tommy was cleaning the pen and called me in to help him pick up the poo-filled hay.  I excitedly obliged because I was so jazzed to be helping out.  Cleaning up animal poo was way better than doing the kid birthday parties.  No, really...  Have you ever had 15 small kids screaming and running around and you had to wrangle them up and give them sugar, then put them on ponies and then paint their snot crusted faces?!? Believe me, animal poo is a step up.  Thank the Gods that the other party girl, Amy, was probably one of the best people to work with ever.

Words cannot describe how much fun we had.

Anyway...  I entered the pen...  And I swear to you, that hippo's eyes glowed red.  RED.  Like a fucking cartoon or some shit.  Unfortunately, I had entered with such glee that I was well into the cage before I realized my error.  Rookie mistake, I know.  By the time I realized what was about to go down, said hippo was in between me and my exit.

Time froze.

Now, imagine her eyes all glowy red...  And her floating in pure anger.

You may be thinking, "Val, how big can a Pygmy hippo be?!  You are an awesome ninja!!  Why not just take her out?!"  Because I was young!  And scared!  And also early into my ninja training.  Also, have you ever seen the size of a hippos mouth?!?  So I did what I'm sure 99% of you would have also done...  I screamed bloody murder and ran around in circles.  Evasive maneuvers people!!! 

She could have been after anything guys...  Including my salvation.

Tommy tried to help, I'm sure.  But god knows what the fuck he did!  I was too busy screaming and running around whilst Yakity Sax played in my mind. It went down like that for what seemed like an eternity...  Like the end of Benny Hill, but with less naked chicks and more hippo. 

Finally, I hopped the fence faster than a fat kid at a cake buffet...  I never again entered that cage.  But every time I passed by, that motherfucker would charge a few steps and talk a bunch of shit trying to get me back in the cage.  I'm not sure what she said exactly, since I don't speak hippo, but I can guarantee it was not very nice.  Not very nice at all. 

And that's why I never donate money to hippo charities.  Fuck 'em!!!

Sunday, January 20, 2013

New study shows that Monday is a dirty crack hoe trying to give you herpes

Everyone can go for a blow job or the female equivalent once in a while.  I just wanted to remind you that Monday has herpes.  Because I'm a good friend.   So remember... No matter how horny you are, that shit is forever.

This cake will not cure herpes.  But, it might make the shock of getting it a little better.  Just in case you're wondering.  Cake makes everything better.

In other news, I just watched The first Lord of the Rings movie again.  You know that part where they are all meeting to discuss who will take the ring to Mordor and Frodo is all "I'll take the ring to Mordor!!! But... I do not know the way." 

This is the only thought that will get me out of bed in the morning.

Well, I don't want to sould like a pussy or anything, but I always totally lose my shit.  So, I just wanna send a Thank You out to my friend Mel who so lovingly held me whilst I sobbed into her bosom screaming "OH MY GOD!!!  HE'S SO TINY AND BRAVE!!!!"  I love you, Mel!

Also, do you guys remember this commercial?

Now... I dare you not to giggle every time you see Sauron.

I saw this a week ago and I'm STILL laughing!!!

Remember... Don't let Monday take you alive. Or... Give you the herps.

P.S.  My blog is entered in Dude(ette) WriteVoting has started!!!  PLEASE VOTE FOR ME!!!  Or my self esteem may never recover...

Thursday, January 17, 2013

If you forget to floss, the little dental gnomes will come and pull your teeth out whilst you sleep. Or that's what my dad used to tell me. Maybe.

Hey Motherfuckers!  I'm finally getting over this horrible flu virus.  That's right.  I caught Captain Tripps, and got better.  Because I'm too fucking awesome to die.  (Insert Happy Jump Freeze Frame!)

Fuck YEA Flash Gordon!!!
Anyway, I received the following message on my work voicemail:

"Hi Valerie.  It's Ms. Creepy Dental Person from Blahblah Dental Group.  I noticed that you haven't been in for your deep cleaning and I was just calling to find out why.  Did you go somewhere else?!  Give me a call.. And.. We can talk about it..."

Wow...  I didn't realize that we shared a moment.  My bad.

I'm serious, guys.  That shit really happened. And, there was a lot of pain in her voice.  I kinda feel bad... Because, it's not her.  It really isn't.  It's me.  I... I just don't see this relationship going anywhere.  I like to eat fruit roll ups and popcorn.  I like coffee and opening packages with my teeth.  It just won't work out in the long run.  But I think she's taking this kind of hard.  Also... I don't even know how she got my work number!!!

Shit just got real.

The bad part is that the dentist is literally 1 block away from me.  Sometimes, when I drive by on my way home, I see her looking out the window longingly.  I can't help but think that it's because of me.  Am I her "one that got away"?  

It could have been my teeth up there...

What am I supposed to do if this shit goes south?!  What if I have that scene happen to me.  You know.  The one in every horror movie?  Where I'm finishing brushing my teeth, and open the medicine cabinet to get something out. Then when I close up the mirror, she's standing behind me yelling "YOU FORGOT TO FLOSS!!!" Followed by her pulling out a long piece of dental floss (which she probably already used to make the killing more "personal".  Serial killers are weird like that) and proceeds to strangle me.  I can't go out like this guys!!  I won't be taken down by a dentist.  Not now... Not ever... 

That does it...  Eddies gonna just have to come watch my back whilst I brush.  Just until this whole thing blows over. 

If you don't hear from me, know that I love you all....  Especially you!  Uhhhh... Not you.  You smell of meat and cheese.  YOU!  In the back!  Yea... You're my favorite. 

P.S.  I am submitting this post on Dud(ette) Write so go check the site out!!  Voting starts on Sunday!!!  (I'm not saying to go vote for me... But I AM saying go vote for me.  It's a girl thing.  SO DO IT!!!  Please?)

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Damn you Captain Trips!!!

The Captain Trips virus is trying to kill me this week.  So instead of my regularly  scheduled post, I leave you with this fantastic YouTube video of baby fucking platypi born at a zoo that Mandi at Atypically Relevant shared with me.  I think I may have had a cuteness overload brain aneurism...  Either that or this damn flu has progressed to the killing stage.  

Stay healthy, my friends...

Hugs (but not a close gripping one so you fuckers don't catch this)!


Sunday, January 13, 2013

The sloth... Really happy or The Joker of the animal kingdom?

I love unusual animals.  Hello?!  Platypus!!!  And This love puts the sloth way up there on my list of animals I just GOTTA hug. I mean, look at him!!

Seriously.  You can't not love him.

He's just as happy as happy can be.  Just, hanging out... Being all sloth like.  What's not to love?!

Hanging out!!!  See what I did there?!?

Then I started thinking....  These fuckers smile a lot.  But, like... A lot.  I try my best to be cheerful, but if I smiled all the time I think it would just scare the fuck out of people. 

At first it's all "Awww... She's happy.  She's smiling."  But give it a few minutes.  The smile gets worrisome. 

What if the sloth isn't happy at all... What if his face is just stuck in a grin and he can't control it?! Then everyone keeps saying "yea sloth!!  Get eat job keeping positive in trying times!" And he's all "I am crying on the inside..."

And you wouldn't even see it coming.
You could only take the torture of forced happiness for so long, guys.  Lets face it... There is a war coming...  And no one is gonna expect it from a sloth.  

Uh huh...
Even Joker knows what's what.

Looks like I'm gonna have to go ahead and dust off my batman costume.

I got this, motherfuckers.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

I have perfect, bulbous toes and have saved the world from them more times than I can count

It's true.  They're perfect and bulbous.  My friend Stephanie told me so.  And I wouldn't call her a liar if I were you.  That would make her angry...  And you wouldn't like her when she's angry...

However, you may be questioning her judgement.  You may even be thinking, "Valerie, everyone knows that bulbous toes are not perfect. And if your second toe is longer than your first... Well... Well that's just Ew!"  To this I answer:  Nay!! You, sir, are wrong!!  And you are most likely my brother because that boy has been making fun of these beautiful babies for years.  Because he is jealous... Probably.

Let me share a fun fact with you judgmental motherfuckers....  Bulbous toes make perfect people.  "People you say?!?"  YES!  People.  Let me clarify....

Welcome to Toetown.

When I'm bored or just lonely or feeling particularly frisky, which is quite often, I enjoy drawing little people on the bottom of my feet and playing Toetown.

You see, the big toe, aka Mayor Martin Goldstein III, is quite the evil, bad politician.  You can tell because of his handlebar mustache.  No one with this type of mustache is ever good.  In fact, rumor has it that he tied his ex wife to the train tracks with some TNT.  But this could never be proven since his defense was rock solid.  "How could I possibly tie her to anything?!?  I have no hands!!!"  And, much like OJ, he was acquitted.  

See?!?  It's a proven fact!!

Second toe, aka Vulva Pattenhiem, is his gopher assistant.  But he secretly is plotting to become mayor after Goldstein has himself a little "accident".  He also is waiting on paperwork from the social security office to legally change his name to Zeus.  Since everyone knows no one will vote for a man named Vulva.  But his parents were hippy lesbians and all about being feminists.  I, personally, think he will one day make an excellent Mayor.

Vulva was conceived this very night.

Middle toe is the resident wizard for Toetown.  If you need a potion or a hex, he's your man!  His name is Parry Hooter.  Apparently no other wizards can have glasses and be named Harry Potter... Ever...  Or you will get a cease and desist letter from someone... I'm not gonna mention any names, but you know who I'm getting at... *coughJKROWLINGcough*

The second to last toe is the evilest of the bunch.  Professor Jerald Von Klater was the original leader of the way famous Masters of Evil, until he was disbarred for humping things.  He later went on to create his evil minion...  pinkie toe, aka Bob.  Bob has no soul. He is a clone, and Jerald slept through the part of his lecture at Evil Academy when they were teaching how to make souls in clones.  Something about unicorn fart and faery dust, he thinks.  We've had hour long discussions on this whilst eating skittles... As we are sure skittles is the key ingredient.

Kinda like this... but way better because they are on my feet.

So now you know why my toes are perfect.  And also that I am single-handedly keeping these fuckers occupied and distracted so they don't one day take over the world.  It's like that horror movie I saw once where this blind nun had to watch the gates of hell that was located in the attic of some apartment building or something.  And her job was to sit there and make sure that evil didn't escape.  Which was weird since she was blind.  But I guess nuns have, like, a spider-sense for evil...  Anyway, we're both part of a greater mission... Fucking heroes of the world and shit.

I bet her feet are weird too...  Weird and perfect.  Fuckin' A, man... Fuckin' A.

Here we sit at the gates of hell.  Protecting you motherfuckers.  Just me and some blind chick.  I think she might be a nun.  Damn...  What the fuck are we gonna talk about.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

This Post has nothing to do with Neil Patrick Harris... And Everything to do with Neil Patrick Harris

It's a new fucking year, motherfuckers.  And I'm all about bettering myself and humanity.  

Very True Story.

Which is why I'm super siked to have found THIS LINK...  That's right!!  Drinking games for all my favorite shows!!  This year is gonna rock.

But like...  SUPER AWESOME!!!  Kinda like the time I threw up in the back of a cab into a red solo cup whilst my friend distracted the cab driver by talking about eating goats.

Since everything is in repeat mode, may I suggest rocking Sunday's socks off tonight by partaking in #14 on said list...  Basically you just put a mustache on your tv and drink whenever it lines up with someone's face.  Good enough for me!! 

It's like NPH is writing this blog post for me...  Through psychic thoughts and mental hugs!

Now...  Go rock on with your badass selves!!

Probably not...  But I'm sure as hell gonna try!!!

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Photobombing Everest

I have a great idea guys...  Like...  A GREAT IDEA!  It's one of those million dollar ideas that you only get once in a lifetime.  In fact, it's so good that my BFF, Nicole, didn't even want me to share it.  But I'm gonna go ahead and tell you guys anyway.  Because I'm a sharer. 

Let it go on record that I once shared my funnel cake.
So...  I've decided that I want to climb Mount Everest....  And photobomb the fuck out of all the dead bodies.  Then I shall make a delightful coffee table book with all the pictures and call it "Inappropriately Everest".

Me one day.  Only dead sexier.
Right off the bat, Eddie was all "You can't do that" just because we watched a documentary on climbing the mountain and it is apparently really expensive.  Like, $80,000.  And it's really hard...  And dangerous.  But I was all "I can totally do this.  Have you met me??  I'm awesome."  Then he mumbled something about me being "modest" and left the room.

Please...  I could do this in my sleep.

Anyway...  I know what you're thinking.  "That's highly disrespectful to the people that have died up there."  But think about it.  Do you even know who is up there?  Probably not.  This book will not only be hilarious (if you have a sick sense of humor that is, which I obviously do), but also pay tribute to all those poor souls that have lost their lives to that beast.  It will tell their stories, past and present. 

I'm so gonna hump that.

Now I just have to train to climb a deadly, snowy mountain without dying.  Plus raise $80,000.  (Now accepting donations!!! - I'm totally putting this on Kickstarter.)  But don't worry, motherfuckers....  If I die up there you all have permission to photobomb the fuck out of me.  The more inappropriate the better!  Extra points for exposed naughty parts!!