Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Day the Aliens Tried to Explore My Anus... And Other Stories of Our Times

Before we get into my anus (See what I did there?!?  TASTEFUL ANAL JOKE!!!  And science said it couldn't be done!!!)  

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for all the well wishes from last post.  I won't get into what happened, but it was really horrible and I am pretty much broken.  But luckily, I am me.  So I won't stay down for long.  Awesome doesn't sleep.  It just takes lavatory breaks.  It's like my awesome ate a 10 pack at Taco Bell with extra hot sauce and is now paying the price.  She's gonna shit...  And she's gonna probably throw up...  And she will most definitely curl up into the corner and cry like a little bitch.  But then she'll get up, dust herself off and move on.  Because that's what life's about.  Learning a lesson and moving on.  

This is an exact metaphor for how I feel.

Secondly, FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER!!!!  Seriously.  Please.  It's really lonely out there.  And there is no way I'm going to get a group of people large enough to build a demonic T-Rex hell bent on revenge if I only have 11 people that listen to me rant like a crazy person.  

We can totally make this, Guys.  All it takes is a stick of chewing gum and a paperclip.  I saw it on an episode of MacGyver.

How do you find me, you ask?  Well, look for @flyingplatypie.  Be sure to look for the PIE at the end.  Because some assmonkey stole my name, put up 4 tweets about Lord of the Rings back in 2011 and then quit the whole Twitter scene to live off the grid.  I mean, great for him.  But, Jesus H. Martinez!!!  Let the name go!!!!  


But it's all good, people...  I like pie.  Blueberry pie.  So it works.

This morning, I was driving the girls to school when Alyssa yelled, "Mommy!!  What the heck is that?!?" I look over and out her window, and nearly rolled my car up into a tree!!  

Here's what we saw in the yard over yonder...

Tilt your head to the side...  Because my computer is a selfish fool who can't rotate pictures.


There is no other explanation!!!

Seriously...  I.  Almost.  Died.  I mean, I am totally ready for the Zombie Apocalypse.  Who isn't now a days?!?  But aliens??  ALIENS??!?!  What the flying donkey fuck!!!!   I'm not prepared for aliens!!  How does one even prepare for that??? 

There is absolutely NO WAY to prepare for something like this.  It's just not possible.  WE ARE ALL DOOMED!!!!

Upon circling the block and getting the sledgehammer out of the trunk of my car, we quickly learned that it was not an alien.  It was one of those dummies used for fight training cleverly placed to scare the crap out of passerby's.

Exactly like this...  But more menacing.  And green.  And evil.

I wonder if across the street, there is some poor kid's room that faces the dummy.  I bet these people giggle every night as that kid hides under their blanket and cries himself to sleep.  And that's when I realized that I really wanted to have dinner and drinks with these people.  

And maybe snuggle by a bonfire with them...  If I'm not being too forward.

Those people, whoever they are, are my heroes! 

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

I bring you all a Wall of Happy to brighten your day! Because my days have sucked.

Sorry I have been MIA.  My heart was recently ripped out through my asshole.  And you know how that is...  So because I am sad and cannot function right now, I bring you a Wall of Happy.  Because somebody has to be happy, gosh darn it!!  And if I can't do it right now, then it has to be you!!  Otherwise we could all end up dead.  Are you up to the challenge?  

Are you ready to become a hero?

And now, in a seductive dance of the Seven Happys, I bring you....  Smiling....

HAHAHAHA!!  Walking Dead humor.

I mean seriously.  You.  Are.  Done.


I laughed at this for what seems like forever. 

Suck it up!

My internal struggle with the escalator is quite epic.

Every fucking morning.

I know some people that could get there as the party is emptying out and still be ugly.

If I saw this walking down the street, I'd dominant hump them both.

Seriously people.  We're all laughing at you.

Truth.  Justice.  The American Way.

It's like he didn't even listen to the lyrics!!!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Everyone is talking about cicadas. I don't see any... And I love those bastards!!! Where are MY cicadas?!?! WHY HAVE THEY FORSAKEN ME?!?!

For the last week or so, every morning has started out the same.  I wake up and take care of bathroom business (which you need not know about).  Then run out to the backyard to check.  You see, this summer is to be a very special summer.  For our dear friends, the cicadas, are coming up from the depths to visit with all of us.  

Indeed they are.

I don't know about you guys, but I love me some cicadas!!!

No, seriously.  I don't know why I seem to be the only one.  So far I've only heard people complaining about them.  They're all "EWWWW!!!  Bugs are ICKY!!"  or  "OMG!  THEY ARE SO GROSS!!"


You know...  My mama once gave me some valuable advice.  "If you have nothing nice to say, say it anyway.  Then throw a shoe.  Aim is everything."

She was right about that.  Aim IS everything.  You won't kill a zombie by hitting it with a shoe in the shoulder.  Hell, you won't even faze that SOB.  Now, a smartly aimed combat boot with reinforced steel toes filled with rocks sent flying at the head will surely take a decaying corpse down.

Calm the fuck down, people.  It's gonna be ok.

But I digress...

I love cicadas.  They are pretty awesome bugs.  I know, you are all doubtful about it.  I can see it on your faces.  But, still...  I am going to share 3 reasons why I love these little fuckers.  So.  Friggin.  Hard.

1.  It has been said that this brood of cicadas have been 2-3 feet underground waiting for 17 years for this spring to come up and breed.  This is incorrect.  These cicadas are actually the souls of loved ones that have burrowed up from hell to visit.  I mean, seriously.  Not ALL of our loved ones are going to go to heaven.  Sure, our moms will.  Maybe our dads.  But weird Uncle Roy who used to eat dog food and listen to people filing their nails will most likely be visiting this spring.  So, if a cicada lands ever so gently on your back, please do not freak out.  That's just Uncle Roy's way of giving you a little bug hug...  Or...  Trying to scare you into oncoming traffic.  It depends on the relative, I guess.  The point I'm trying to make here is know your dead loved ones.  

Accept the love...  FEEEEEEEL IT!!!

2.  Male cicadas emit a loud sound to attract females to get it on with.  I find it ever so comforting to sit out on my deck, close my eyes and just listen to the sounds of millions of cicadas doing the nasty in the trees.  Right now, outside your window, Mother Nature is giving you an orgy to watch...  And you won't even get some weird virus on your computer or the Clap...  Because Mother Nature is STD FREE.

...  And then Barry White started playing off in the distance...

3.  Female cicadas are attracted to the sound of lawn mowers.  I didn't tell Eddie this in hopes that the next time he mows the lawn, hundreds of females will think he is trying to mate with him and chase him throughout the neighborhood.  I keep Yakkity Sax on my person at all times just in case a moment arises where Eddie is being chased by horny bugs up and down the street.  And when he calls to me for help, I will stand up and raise my phone high over my head blasting Yakkity Sax in a most "Say Anything" style.  Sure, it's not a big dream, but it's mine.

"Seriously, Val!  It's not funny...  Get the hose!!"

So here I wait, in my yard with a flashlight, staring at the ground in the hopes that my little bug demons will arrive.  So far nothing.  But I know things will change soon.  If not, I shall scour the lands for the shells they have shed and left behind.  Then I shall coat myself in them and burrow under the deck...  When I emerge in 17 years, they shall emerge with me.  And obviously accept me as their leader because, DUH!  AWESOME CHICK COATED IN BUG SKIN = LEADER!!!  And together, well, together we shall take what is rightfully ours...  THE WORLD!!!  

Remember...  You're either with us or against us.  Choose wisely. 



Tuesday, May 21, 2013

If I were a phone virus, I would infect the masses. But I'm not, so I just have to settle for wrong numbers.

Last week I received a text message from a wrong number wishing me a happy birthday.  And by "me" I mean "someone named Ms. Minneci."  You could imagine my excitement to think that VALTEMBER had already fallen upon us.  But, alas, it is still only May and we have quite a bit of fun to have before VALTEMBER.  

Won't you come along with me and celebrate VALTEMBER??

Also, I checked with Eddie, and he said that I am not allowed to have my birthday right now.  Because it's law or some shit. I think he just doesn't want to celebrate me.  Which is fine, because it was just Mother's Day and we already sacrificed a virgin in my honor.

And by "sacrificed a virgin" I mean "poured alcohol into virgin drinks and then drank them down."  Mainly because I was too tired to go chasing real virgins.  And those bitches are hard to find now-a-days.  

I blame the cast of the Jersey Shore.

I googled "Jersey Shore Virgin" and this came up.  I laughed so hard I spit fluids everywhere.

But still, I figured I should probably answer this person back since I'm not a rude person.  That statement is mostly true.  Unless you talk during an episode of Doctor Who.  Or during a movie I just spent $50 to go see.

I was elated to get an answer back.  And not just any answer...  An answer from a fellow Pluto enthusiast!!  And everyday since I have sent a fun Pluto fact to my new friend.  

Because I'm a sharer, guys.  It's what I do.

As you can see...

Me and Pluto have a lot in common.

Well, that and apparently impersonate Ms. Minneci.  I look forward to the day that this person realizes that I am not Ms. Miccali.  Not even a little bit.

Unless Ms. Minneci is awesome...  And has an almost obsessive love for the planet that isn't a planet anymore.  Then we could very well be the same person.

OMG, GUYS!  WHAT IF MS. MINNECI IS MY DOPPELGANGER?!?!  I need to hug her...  And freak people out on the subway.

I'll never be this happy...  Not ever.

In other news, we should start a pool to see when this person will tell me to stop texting them Pluto facts because it's creepy.  Any takers?!?

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I don't care how much floral print the girl wears. Taylor Swift is a whore.

So there I was showering, trying to remember if I actually washed my hair or not, when I realized that I was humming to myself.  Ever so gently.  And then I realized what I was humming...  And I froze.

I don't know about you...

Mother.  Fraking.  Taylor.  Swift.  

But I'm feelin' 22...

How did this happen?  AGAIN?!?  Earlier this week, she was stuck in my head for approximately 36 hours.  I don't even listen to her music.  But here I am, once again, humming her nonsense.  

Baby you don't know about me...

Back in the Olden Days, she would have been burnt at the stake for witchcraft.

But I bet you want tooooo....

But no, now she's put on a pedestal because she wears floral prints.  BECAUSE SHE WEARS FLORAL PRINTS!!!   That's all they've got!  Because in actuality, she's a skank.  A big, super smelly, skank who has been digging her way into my brain in a burrowing type motion like a maggot with her horrible catchy music that is laced with spells and simple words!!!!

"I'm so innocent!  Look at me in floral prints!!!" 

I'm on to you, Swift.  And your reign won't last long.  I look forward to the day when you're on your 7th divorce, with a nasty crystal meth problem still trying to write crappy songs.  But then you'll realize, 22 year olds don't care about your life lessons.  Because you SUCK! 

Burn in hell, Swift.  BURN IN HELL!!!

I'll see you in the upcoming Zombie Apocalypse, Swift.  I'll.  Find.  You.


....  Shit...  I don't think I washed my hair... 

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

I have something for you in my pocket. No, it's not a penis... Maybe.

Ok...  It really isn't a penis.  God said I'm not allowed to have one.  Apparently, you spend ONE life poking inanimate objects at the mall with your pitched tent, and you get a vagina for eternity.

Whatever, God. Whatever.

Anyway, the thing I have in my pocket is some SMILES!!!  Figuratively speaking of course.  I'm not running around with a pocket full of dentures or anything.

Ok.  That IS a possibility, since I own 2 sets of dentures.  Though I cannot say from whom I obtained said dentures from...  But I know people...  People with access to your teeth.

Did I just scare you into loving me?!?  Good...  Then your teeth are safe.

For now.

I'm just kidding.

Not really. 

AAANNNNNDDDDD, this schizophrenic post has been brought to you by Wall of Happy.  ENJOY!!!  

I question this a lot actually.  They need a rating system on these bottles.  Like, on a scale of 1 to 10, are we talking a 3 or a 9?

Not a penis or dentures!!!  I swear!!!

Nailed it!

Lock your doors, Brenda.  Lock.  Your.  Doors.

I don't know about you guys, but sometimes I wake up on a Saturday morning and I'm all "I NEED 132 PANCAKES EDDIE!!  I NEED THEM NOW!!!"

I laughed for days at this.  This totally looks like my dog, Punky Brewster.

This will never get old.

It's funny cuz it's true.

I would totally rent from her.  She seems legit.

I need to do this at the elevator at work.  Because I see this shit every day.

Best.  Costume.  Ever.

I literally just put chalk in my bag because this picture inspired me.

Please tell me it's not just me!!!  I mean, they're hella delicious, but DAMN IT!!!  IT'S ALL OVER MY DESK!!!  And, later I will learn that it was all over my cleavage too.  But Future Me will find that when I take my bra off later.


Fly, you fools!!!!


Said Every Cat I've Ever Met.

And for the love of all that is holy, PLEASE go out there and hump something tomorrow for hump day.  Extra points if it's a person and they have no idea that you're humping them!!!

If you get caught, there's a cyanide pill in your front pocket.

Just kidding...  It's a penis.