Thursday, June 27, 2013

Remember the time the security guard got murdered in a most horrible fashion and then I beat a killer with bread? No?? Well, sit down and Let's have a good ol' fashioned flashback.

I'm totally sleepy and lazy today.  Probably because I started working out this week.  But most likely because I got drunk last night and harassed Wil Wheaton on Twitter.  Don't worry, I don't think he's mad at me...  But I'll issue a formal apology at some point when I'm more clever.

So instead of totally dissing you guys, I'm going to tell you (AKA copy & paste) a story from a while back.  Travel back in time with my, my little lads...  Back to 2012ish....


So... The other day, I almost got killed in an underground parking lot.  Well, not really.  But, the fear was there.  And that shit felt real!  

This is pretty much what the underground parking at my local grocery store looks like.  But it has a security booth.  And smells of urine.

Let me start off by saying that my grocery store has a freaky underground parking area.  Basically, its only a matter of time before someone dies down there.  But there's a security guard, so it's totally legit.  I know, as a woman who frequents there often, that I should probably park up top in the sunshine and creeper-free zone.  But, unfortunately, that's where all the assholes park. 


The last time I parked up there was a horrid experience that still hits me like a 'Nam flashback.  All I'm saying is don't try to take my fucking parking spot when I'm waiting there with my blinker on.  Or, much like a virgin on prom night, you'll pay a hefty price.

 Nah, bro... I totally got this.

So, now that we have the preface out of the way...  I went to my usual shop to get some Italian bread for dinner.  In the ride up on the elevator, I became eye candy to a weirder than usual person.  I attract weirdos.  I know this because I am one, and I think we can smell our own.  But this particular gentleman decided to openly stare at my legs.  When I looked at him in my "you-had-better-quite-that-or-I'll-shank-you" kind of way, he promptly said, "Those look like really comfortable shoes."  That's when I knew that I was either talking to Forrest Gump, or a serial killer.  And I know my luck...  That man was NOT carrying a box of chocolates.

It puts the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again.

I promptly exited the elevator, procured my delicious bread and made it back to the lower parking deck in record time.  And that's when I noticed the lit cigarette on the ground next to my car.  I went to step on it and suddenly stopped, noticing that the security booth had been abandoned.  

My horror-movie-survivor-girl personality kicked in.  

Everyone's already dead.  It's too late for them.  Your friend.  Your family.  Dead.  But you must live on.  You must live on and tell your story.

I knew then that the security guard had already been killed in a most brutal fashion, and that he would appear in the last 20 minutes of the film (gutted like a fish) whilst I was trying to escape.  I removed the Italian bread from my bag, preparing to give the killer who was surely hiding somewhere in the vicinity an ass-whooping.  I also wished to the Gods that I had bought something canned and/or did not leave my awesome pink scorpion knife in the car.

Any of these items would have been more helpful than bread.

I circled my car checking out all possible hiding places... The back seat. The SUV trunk.  Under the car.  They were all clear.  

My second ninja-like loop around the car was when I felt the eyes on me.  

I was being watched... 

by the security guard... 

who wasn't dead.  

In fact, he was very much alive and staring at me in stunned silence.

In a moment of utter shock and dismay, I threw my Italian bread clad arm into the air and yelled "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!!"  The look on that poor confused man will stay with for the rest of my life.  

Valerie Nunez:  Scaring be bejesus out of strangers for decades

I dove into my car and sped off into the night.  You live to see another day, Mr. Security Guard.  Good for you, Motherfucker. 

Good for you...

Today you live, bitch... Tomorrow? Who knows.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

I'm an AUNTIE... Again. Because, I'm apparently AWESOME at it! DUH!!!

It's a good news Tuesday!!!   Because this happened today...

Oh hell yeah!  I am once again the most awesome Aunt in the world! 

Welcome to the world Eleana Valerie Jaworski!!!!

Ok.  So, her middle name isn't technically Valerie, but she didn't have one.  Mostly because my brother is lazy.  And since I am such a great person, that I totally let her borrow mine.  My brother was all "No, that is NOT her middle name.  Please stop calling her that.  What is wrong with you!"  But in reality, it doesn't really matter what he says.   I'm just going to tell her the epic story of how she got her middle name over and over again, until it becomes a fact in her tiny, impressionable mind...

Every time I see her, I will sit her upon my lap and gaze lovingly into her eyes and say:

"Yes, Titi Wow.  Tell me more of the day I was born."

"My sweet girl, Eleana Valerie!  Let me tell you how you were given such a wonderfully beautiful name.  Once upon a time, there was a wonderful Aunt and her annoying brother.  That's your dad, sweetie.  Well, your dad was having a hard time coming up with your name.  He said no to almost every name in the whole wide world.  Then, finally, he decided upon Eleana.  Which is a glorious name.  But, I told him it was missing something.  Like, it didn't have enough salt to go with that Jaworski.  So, being the amazingly giving person that I am, I told him that I would make the ultimate sacrifice...  I would give you my name, and thus, some of my awesome.  Just enough to start you on the right track, you see.  Your father, being the grumpy billy goat gruff that he was, refused my gift.  Did I mention that I got my name from magical faeries?  Oh, well I did.  So, all I wanted to do was to share this with you.  But grumpy daddy still said no.  So, do you know what I did?  I beat the ever loving crap out of him until he begged for mercy and then I named you that anyway.  It may not appear on your birth certificate, but that really doesn't matter.  All that matters is that the Awesomeness of Valerie is now in your heart and it will one day bloom into something spectacular.  So, my sweet sweet Eleana Valerie, the moral of this story is to always keep your pimp hand strong...  Because sometimes your daddy needs a beat down.  And if that ever happens, you just call your TiTi Wow and I'll be over in 20 minutes flat.  I'll take care of the situation...  That's right, munchkin!!  With my pimp hand!!  Good girl!...  And then afterwards, we'll bust out some tunes on this sweet drum set I just bought you, followed by eating all the candy in the house whilst watching watch a horror movie."

And THAT, my friends, is how you become the world's most awesome aunt AND the most annoying sister at the very same time.

And now, I give you adorable baby pictures... to get you through your mid-week blues.  You're welcome!!!

"This ninny is DELICIOUS!!!" 

She's all like "You're my favorite aunt.   I'll tell you that shit right off the bat."  And I just responded with a knowing nod of my head and a twinkle in my eye.

OMG!!  She's like the cutest little gnome!  I want to steal her and put her in my garden!!!

"Peace out, Bitches...  Enjoy your Hump Day.  But RESPONSIBLY!!!  Or, well...  You know..."

Sunday, June 23, 2013

If you don't just get thru with The Monday, the terrorists win. So, just put your pants on and get it over with... Because NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER

Remember, no matter how bad your Monday is, it will never be Julianne-Moorre-Jacked-Up-Toes Bad...

You're Welcome, guys.

Because the day after Monday, is Tuesday.  And then Monday is gone for a week.  Those toes are forever...  

Now, go out there and make Monday your bitch!!!  

I'm also mentally hugging you just in case you need it.

Or, maybe I'm just copping a quick feel to get thru the day.  What?!?  I hate Mondays too!!


Thursday, June 20, 2013

Do you know what time it is?!? IT'S KENNY'S SHORTS SEASON TIME!!!!

If you have been with me for a while now, you all ready know about Kenny's Shorts.  If you don't you can click HERE to catch up.  Or, I will just tell you a tale.  A tale so full of hope and glory, that I almost won a Nobel Peace Prize for it...  But then Al Gore was all "I invented Shorts."  So he basically stole my thunder.  Any my panties once.  But that's neither here nor there.  

The fateful story goes as such...

Back in 2010, a pair of shorts where stolen.  Not just any shorts, Kenny's shorts.  I have been keeping a picture diary of my travels with said shorts ever since.  Because, sometimes, Shorts are too good too sit in a drawer...  Sometime, Shorts need to live...

Kenny's Shorts are WAY excited about this time of year!

And as you can see from the fantastic change in weather pattern, it is once again Kenny's Shorts Season.  And so, I shall share some of my recent travels in Kenny's Wonderous Shorts. (That he is totally NEVER EVER getting back.  So stop asking, KENNY!!!)

This is Me and Kenny's Shorts becoming One with Art during the most epic Photobomb known to man

This is Kenny's Shorts being respectful at Edgar Allan Poe's grave

This is Kenny's Shorts giving the bird to Eddie who missed out on a great weekend by being a douchenozzle.

Kenny's Shorts <3's Puppies (and titties.  Note to self:  Take Kenny's Shorts to a Strip Club.)

This is the saddest picture of Kenny's Shorts known to man.  The premier of the new Superman movie...  sans my Superman Cape.  Because apparently Jasmyn "doesn't know where it is, but TOTALLY didn't cut it up, Mommy!!!"

But then they took me and Kenny's Shorts out for frozen yogurt.  That's peanut butter, NOT poo.  Also, when yogurt costs 49 cents an ounce and you spend $30 on a family of 4, it pretty much means your kids need to be watched at the fixin's station.  Because I was BUSY....  WITH PEANUT BUTTER!!!!
"I'M ON A HORSE!!!" ~ Kenny's Shorts


Sometimes, you run into a 35 foot tall metal Mary statue on the way home from visiting someone epic in Maryland.  WWKSD???

WWKSD???  Kenny's Shorts would STOP and visit.  That's what they'd do!!!
And they would take a picture with their BFF and Mary!!  Who is looking not so happy with her menacing clouds.  It's like she KNEW.
And Kenny's Shorts would absolutely sit on Mary's feet to take a picture!
WWVD???  Valerie would lick the Mary Statue, of course.  For luck!  And... And because I may have a problem.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Magic of Punctilious Coitus... A Guest Post Brought to you by Pickleope

Hi Guys!!  Because I've been having a bit of a tough time lately, the one and only Pickleope has so generously decided to do a guest post.  I am not only thankful, but should I have a third born I shall give it as an offering of my thankfulness.  In such case that a third child is not an option, a well-formed poo shall be considered.  But only on a non-corn eating night. Because that's cheating.

So, without further ado, I bring you Pickleope...

Thank you to the Almighty Val, Provider of Mannequin Limbs, for allowing me the opportunity to invade her space. Any reader here knows that Val specializes in the offbeat, often disturbing. So I hope to do her proud by also injecting horrific mental imagery into your brains. Let's begin, shall we?

Martha Stewart and Anthony Hopkins used to date. And by "date," I mean "rubbed their wrinkly liver-spotted meat sacks together and made strangely accented moaning noises."

You know that thing Anthony Hopkins does in Silence of the Lambs after he talks about pairing human with a nice Chianti? "Ffftffftfftttfftt." He probably did that thing with his mouth ON Martha Stewart. 

The good part about sex with Martha Stewart is, you know she cleans up everything right afterward or at least knows the best potpourri to pair with Anthony Hopkins/Martha Stewart sex stank. Also, Martha's hot. No getting around it, she's a pretty lady. She used to be a model! But she's famous because of how anal retentive she is. She turned OCD into an artform. Wait, I just put it together, "anal"! Of course! She probably also can crochet some sexy lingerie (can you imagine how itchy lingerie made from yarn would be). 

Oh nothing, just a young Martha Stewart modeling with a cow. You're welcome.
So, I get why people want to get down with Martha, but that still leaves Anthony Hopkins. Who wants to get down with A-Hop? Is he such a great actor that he can act like an awesome lay? He often portrays fastidious characters, perhaps that's what attracted Ma Stew to Tony Hops. 

He's gonna eat that kitten. Bye bye kitten. Enjoy becoming a Hopkins turd. 
Regardless, let's take a trip to imagination land and picture their ultra-meticulous naked slappy time. It probably lasted hours, not the actual sex, but the preparation, finding the perfect angle, "how was that grunt? Let me have another take. Ugh--no wait--Ohagh", trying to glisten precisely, repositioning boob, trimming hair, testicle fluffing, labial makeup, and so on.

Alas, though, their relationship is no more, but for a brief moment in time, the most fussbudgety (someone has a thesaurus) sex in all of history between two geriatrics took place. Yes, there is magic in the world, kids. 

Thanks again to the House of the Flying Platypi for this opportunity. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

I was TOTALLY gonna write an EPIC blog post tonight, but then... Vodka.

I'm sorry guys, but it's gonna be ok though.  I've got an ridonkulously epic guest post coming up on Tuesday from Pickelope.  No, really.  It gave me nightmares...  And I don't scare easily.

Unless you're a clown in the woods.  Then I'll shit my pants and fall into fetal position every time.  

Every.  Time.

So, until then, I leave you with this lovely thought for Monday...  There is a website out there called that will anonymously deliver elephant, gorilla or cow poop to someone you hate. 

Oh yes.  You just read that right.  

So, if you're bored tomorrow or feel slighted in the least, do the right thing and send a gallon on shit to someone who deserves it.  I know I will be doing it.  Hell, the person I'm thinking of deserves a truckload.  I might just splurge!!!  

Because I'm a giver, guys.  

Have a happy Monday filled with poo flinging!!!



Thursday, June 13, 2013

The Clown's Natural Habitat is Hell, Not the Woods

I like hiking.  I love being outdoors.  I love following the blue trail which always gets me lost.  Always.  But you know what I don't love?  I don't love hiking out into the middle of nowhere and finding a demonic clown.  I can pretty much say that that is the exact opposite of my perfect day.

If you weren't aware, I have a phobia of clowns.

I don't even want to begin to tell you how much vodka it took for this to happen.  But I surprisingly didn't die of alcohol poisoning or terror, so that's good.

Right now you may be thinking to yourself that it's probably not likely to find a clown whilst hiking.  That's what I thought too, my friends.  I, too, was allured by the safety of nature.  The serenity of it all.  Oh sure, you run into your machete wielding fiends every now and again... 


Don't believe me?  CLICK HERE IF YOU DARE!  Apparently, one of the park employees in Florida thought it would be a real fun idea to put this absolutely terrifying clown mannequin a few miles into a hiking trail.

I don't find this funny.

I don't find this funny one bit.

I hope you're real proud of yourself, Mr. Anonymous Park Employee.  You not only  ruined my sleep for the next month, but also hiking for the rest of my life.  

I hope clowns eat your soul, you selfish son of a bitch.

They're coming for you, asshole.  And this time, it's personal.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Today is Hawaiian Shirt Day... on Pluto

Remember that time I got a wrong text and made a new friend through our mutual love of the FOREVER PLANET, Pluto?  Oh, you don't?  Ok, CLICK HERE to refresh your memory.

Now do you remember??  Good!  Yea, well that is still going on.  I know what you're thinking...  NO!  I haven't been arrested...  Yet.  Mostly because no one will lend me a picture of their dick to send.  

Ok, that's not true.  I am just having problems finding a monacle and top hat small enough for a penis.

Only the classiest of penis pictures for my stalking victims!!!

Anyway, the important thing here is that Pluto and I have decided that today is Hawaiian Shirt day.  It was going to be Monday, but then it rained and Hawaiian shirts weren't weather appropriate.  And the last thing we all want to do is look like Gary Busey.

This is exactly what happens when you wear a Hawaiian shirt in inclement weather.  The sad thing is, Gary doesn't even DO drugs!!!

So, you know, if you want to, go ahead and wear a Hawaiian shirt and jeans today...  Just print out this blog post and show your boss that this shit is legit.


Friday, June 7, 2013

For the Love of Emily... Part II of the Misty Files

When we last left our heroines, Misty the Magnificent and Valerie the Vivacious, they had ventured out to a mannequin store and out to dinner for some much needed shenanigans.  What you didn't know was that there was another stop.  At fateful stop.  A stop that our dear girls would remember forever...  The stop that brought them to Emily at the Flying Dog Beer Brewery, which is my second favorite place in all the land. 

First place?  That would be Harry Potter Land!!!

I'm sure you already know who Emily is, since she is pretty much the most fantastic person ever created.  Well...  Besides Misty & Valerie anyway.  And this is probably why they knew she was to be their third.  The trifecta was complete. 

It's just like that movie, The Craft.  Except with more-boobie-bouncing-in-slow-motion walking whilst drinking beer, and less witchcraft.  Seriously, close your eyes and imagine all the beer...  And boobies.  

You're Welcome.

Anyway, the tour started out simple enough.  We walked through the factory and were shown some beer making stuff.  I was really awesome at NOT licking anything.  Even though I wanted to.  FUN FACT:  Licking is 9/10ths ownership.  That shit is law.  And I would know.  Because I have an amazing friend who's a lawyer!

So, now I shall take you on our tour through a picture montage.  And, for your listening pleasure, I have selected THIS SONG for you to listen to in the background.  Because no picture montage is complete without a kickass sound track.  Everyone knows that!!

Upon arriving, we were greeted to the most awesome throne known to man.  It was roped off...  So I could not lick it.  I'm pretty sure there were laser beam traps as well. 

And then we walked into the beer tasting room.  With each tour, you get 5 tags that let you have cups of beer.  No, really...  YOU GET TO PICK 5 BEERS TO DRINK!!!  But only after the tour.  Not before.  And at first Misty and I didn't understand why.

This is Emily.  Look at her in all her spender!!  GAZE UPON HER MAGNIFICENCE!!!  Ok. Now look away.  LOOK AWAY I SAID!!  Don't get greedy.  She's already spoken for.

This was the Wall of Awesome explaining the history of the beer company, Flying Dog, through pictures of silliness and awesomeness...  And also interpretive dance.  However, we didn't get to see the interpretive dancers since they are off on weekends. 

No, really.  The wall is fucking fabulous.

We were pretty sure that this was a cicada painted on the wall.  It's like they KNEW I was coming!!!  Actually, they DID know I was coming.  Because Misty had emailed them to let them know what a FAN I was of their delicious beer.  Because she's a PLANNER, guys.  It's one of the many reasons I love her so.

They even had a parking spot just for us...  I'm sure Emily is the one behind this!!!

So we went off on the tour....  On our continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before...  Well, no one since the last tour anyway. 

When Misty and I saw this we quickly formulated a plot to go skinny dipping in there with the beer.  The plan was nearly perfect!

And then we looked inside and decided against........



And that's when Misty and I realized why we were not allowed to have alcohol before this began.  So, instead, we gazed longingly at it from afar.

But then Emily was all "Fear not, my beautiful little tourees!!!  For I have beer for yo......

OHMYGOD!!!!!  A BUCKET!!!   I FUCKING LOVE BUCKETS!!!  I read that midgets live in there.

And then Emily was all "If you two don't stop it, you shall go into the Dirty Corner!!!  Midgets do not live here!!"  But she didn't say it with her mouth...

She said it with her beautiful eyes...

And then she was all "Fuck it.  Here's more beer!"

And then I ended up in the Dirty Corner...   But it's ok.  I'm kinky like that.  And I think Emily knew... 

Did I mention that both Misty and I have decided to win the lottery and buy this place so that we can live here??  Also, we found Rainer's doppelganger.  LUCKYYYYY!!!  I'm dying to find mine.  I hope she's really fat.  Then I could be the skinny doppelganger...  And then we'd....

OHMYGOD!!!!  SQUIRREL SLED!!!!!!!  I FUCKING LOVE SQUIRREL SLEDS!!!!  The perfect plan.  I feel like maybe Emily put this here for us to find.  Like a scavenger hunt, if you will.  But the end treasure is her heart.  But, not like...  Beating and bloody in my hand heart.  Geez guys.  I'm talking about love.  And also, cookies.  I want a cookie.

Then Emily took us into the warehouse where we found THIS LITTLE GUY!!  Holy shit, you guys.  I really need to work here.  Then Misty started chatting Emily up, because she's SUPER smooth like that.  And things were going good.  Until I told her about the time I bought a Karate Championship Medal at an antique store and wore it around shopping all day, telling people I was a karate master.  There was an awkward pause.  But Misty saved the day by asking the question that was atop our lips from the moment we stepped into the brewery...

How in the hell can we get a job here?!?!  I could see in Emily's eyes that she wanted to hire us on the spot.  In fact, I'm pretty sure she did, because she scratched her nose.  And all good spies know that the scratching of the nose is the universal sign for "You're hired."  Or... Maybe it's "We just got married."  So, Misty and I are either already hired there or now married to Emily.  I'm pretty sure it's both.

And then the tour came to the end...  So they dropped us off in the bar area to GET OUR DRINK ON!!  WHAT WHAT?!?!  ....  Sorry...  That "what what" part sounded more epic in my head.

Whatever.  CHECK OUT THE BEER LIST!!!!!!

So there we sat. bullshitting, laughing, bonding with Emily.  You know...  Pretty much the perfect da...


The answer to that is:  YES!!!  For Emily then removed the red rope and let me and Misty sit upon the throne.  Because we are QUEENS!!  But, like...  Royalty.  Not men dressed as women.  I don't have a penis, guys.  Seriously...  If I did, it would have already been in one of the pictures.  I would now show you how amazing my girl, Misty, looked on the throne.  But I can't.  Because your eyes would implode in your heads.  SHE'S THAT AMAZING!!!  I mean, look at the day she planned!!!!

And then Misty completed this survey for the both of us.  Because we interview as a team!!!  And because Misty is clever...  And can spell without Google.  Yea, she's pretty much the perfect gal.  Well, her and Emily.

Oh, Emily.  You wonderful little thing, you!

Then Misty disappeared to go to the gift shop and left me unattended.  And...  Well, people kept giving me more tags for free beer.  And I'm not a wasteful person, guys.  I want to save the planet.  And if that means I gotta drink some beer...  Then, gosh darn it!!  I'M GONNA TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM. 

But the dude there was all "We're closing soon."  So I did what any respectable girl would do...  I chugged.  Suddenly, Misty returned and we went to stalk...  I mean say goodbye to...  Emily.  And we took the most epic group picture known to man.  Yes.  We were all wearing almost the same shoes.  HELLO!!!  SOULMATES!!!

And that's when we decided we needed to leave Emily a note saying how much we appreciate her.  I mean, she just met us and already she provided us with a job, a marriage and a Gods damned throne!!!  Who does shit like that?!  I'll tell you who.  Emily.  But how does one portray this in a note?!  We aren't poets.  We are just 2 really fucking awesome people.  Not to mention, that we had no ribbons to even attempt to perform the Dance of Love.  Then it hit us.  BAM!!   And just like that Emily would know how much she meant to us. 

We love you Emily!!  Even if you DO have a restraining order against us.  We know how you really, truly feel...  Deep, deep down.  <3 <3 <3