Keepin' It Creepy!

Last month we made our yearly pilgrimage to Baltimore Comic-Con to see all that is wonderful in our region... as well as Optimus Prime.  Of course I'm talking about the real Optimus and not just some guy we saw last year in his little 7ft light up costume (that was just ridiculously badass!).  Unfortunately, the very real and very close family friend was busy kicking Decepticon ass and didn't make it back in time for our visit.  So we settled on the 17th best thing: finding all the newest and creepiest bits of awesome we could.

"Hey Spider groupie!  Do you see Optimus?" - "No but I see another Spider-Man.  Want to invite him  to our gang?"

Honestly, it didn't take long for me to forget about Optimus and the 300 Spider-men as we quickly stumbled on a table with something that immediately caught my eye:

cue glorious ray of light and angelic choir!

Did you see that picture?  Sheddy Kruger!?!?  He gonna snuggle you up!  Then dice you with his razor sharp purrrrrsonality.  Some of you may know I have a deep routed love for cats.  Also I love creepy and horror and funny.  So, when it is all combined in one beautiful ball of fur and striped sweaters, I have no choice but to swoon!  Swoon I did.  Then I met creator and voice talents, Rich Gurnsey and Linda Castellitto.

Everybody say hi!

The swooning continued as I eyed the rest of their amazing pics and proceded to ask what it was I was experiencing.  Turn's out this euphorically awkward wonder is Welcome to Creepyville, a delightful little series of animated shorts with silly characters and lots of cats... who can never leave.  Ever.

It's like their dark unevenly sized eyes are barring down into my soul saying "watch us on youtube!"  Who am I to argue with animated characters who love jams, marmalades and cats.  Oh the cats!  The cats in sweaters and baby carriers and little fanciful hats.  Welcome to Creepyville is like knowing that guy in the white van is a pedophile and STILL wanting the candy... His sweet, teeth rotting old candy.  If you don't feel uncomfortable whilst you giggle then you're just missing the awesome-boat. 

Neither Rich nor Linda seemed uncomfortable with me petting their booth and braiding their hair so that seemed like my cue to ask them questions.  So, I got this cool pin and asked them these very brilliant questions.  I really feel they showcased my incredible journalistic skills.  

My pin!  SMOOOCH!!

1. Is Welcome to Creepyville an accurate account of your actual life?  Do you always talk to your cats like that and is one named Reginald?

Rich and Linda: Welcome to Creepyville has autobiographical elements…for example, we both adore cats and enjoy a good gravy. Alas, we don't have a cat named Reginald, but we do have a cat named Rhodie, who we talk to all the time. She's a great listener.

2.  Do you have a closet dedicated to the outfits you most certainly dress your cat in?  And, will she willingly participate or does she plan your demise?
Rich and Linda: Rhodie is always trying to get into our closets, so you'd think she'd be a fashionista -- but in reality, she'll only tolerate the occasional tiara or scarf. Demise-planning is always possible! (Probable?)

3.  If you are denying the truth behind the first two questions, where did this little creepy slice of delight get started?

Rich: Deny? Moi? So…it started a few years ago, late one night in the studio at design school, where a bunch of us were working late, as usual. By 3am, our productivity had given way to general loopiness and I started doing voices. Not long after, I drew characters to match the voices…it's much quieter in my head, now.

4. Do you know where you can get one of the front-carrying cat carriers and do they have them for multiple cats at once?

Rich: There's a secret storeroom at an undisclosed location. Want us to hook you up?
Kitty: Heck to the yea I do!  Hook a cat up!
Linda: Bedazzled monogram and matching first-aid kit are optional.
Kitty:You mean required... bedazzle the shiznit outta that bish!

This Dapper Gent is Reginald and the guy carrying him around is Wesley.  He rolls his rrrrrrrrrrrr's

5.  What is the biggest challenge when creating the story line?  Does the creepy flow naturally?Linda: Yes! From the fountain of creepy in Rich's brain.
Rich: So true, so true. The biggest challenge is making time to write, and finding a good place to do so (apparently coffee shops don't like it when you write in the nude).

6.  I find that I relate to Wesley and to Gabby quite a bit.  Quite a bit indeed. In fact, I'm concerned.  Do you find yourselves to be similar to any one particular character?  Or do you find yourselves using the voices in everyday conversation with others?

Rich: There's something of me in all of the characters, for sure. Oh, and I just learned that, like Wesley, I have two different-sized pupils! (It's not anything to be worried about, or so the eye doctor said.)
Linda: I definitely find myself saying a Gabby-esque "Ew" now and then. And thinking about how my (well, Gabby's) boyfriend "loooves time" whenever I fiddle with my watch. Now I'm concerned...

Steven and Gabby having a little chat...

7. If you were a hot dog would you eat yourself?
Rich: Yes. But only if I wasn't covered in ketchup. Only weirdos put ketchup on hot dogs.
Linda: Would I have a mouth? If yes, then no.
Kitty: *Wipes ketchup on cat*  Wow!  Linda, you blew my mind.

8.  How long does it take to make each episode?  


Rich: It's a long process (that I fit in between freelance work and other obligatory stuff). Generally, when my eyes are watering and my butt itches, I'm halfway there! So, double that?
Linda: (By "eyes watering," he means "weeping because it's taking so long." It can get pretty emotional around here.


9.  If you visit Creepyville, will you ever be able to leave?
Rich: People don't really leave Creepyville…they usually just disappear.

Big GIGANTIC thanks to Rich and Linda for taking the time to answer those perfectly articulated questions.  Seriously, I'm quite honored to have this opportunity to share the creepy with all of you.  Be sure to visit the Creepyville world on Facebook by clicking HERE!!  Also, watch their videos on their site and on YouTube by clicking HERE!! You can watch the first episode "It's Creepy Time" and then continue until you're exploding with creepy goodness.  Until next time, keep up the creepy my pretties, I know I will and as always, stay pretty and prepare!

I Am Not Prepared.

Did you know that if you put lipstick on in the dark, it will most likely end up on your forehead and butt?  Neither did I until we had a power outage.  I still don't know how.  This recent power outage was fine at first.  The sun hadn't fully set and I still had 50% power on my cell phone so I was good for at least a few more rounds of Words with Friends before things got bad.  It was only when I realized how unprepared we were that things got tense.  No working flashlights to be found, no matches or lighters at the ready, all accessible candles have already been burned down, no non-perishable snacks and we were dangerously low on vodka.  I'm a mutha funkin badass!  I needed to get it together.  First things first: panic.

You start seeing things when you don't have television.  This was in our bathroom.  Waiting.

After I finished my massive bowl of melting ice cream, we grabbed our weapons and peered into our neighbors homes to see if any one had turned yet.  That sounds much creepier than it actually was.  I had a knife.  Also less creepy.  It's a really cool big knife.  Sharp and stuff... and pretty.  The man-meat gathered ammo and I practiced my sound effects.  Even though I still believe "pew, pew, pew" is an acceptable zombie slicing soundtrack, I was corrected.  Compromise: "Pew-ya!"  With only 3999 other people in the dark and no storms, natural disasters or known paranormal activity, the only logical explanation was zombies.

You never know who is gonna turn on you come z-day...

Once the sun had fully set, I contemplated a bon fire in our living room.  It is after all, August in the south.  We may freeze in the summer lows of 85 degrees.  Plus, with the apocalypse approaching our door step, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the city burned.  May as well start here.  It would be fun.  Again, the manly man of the man things was all like "no."  So I sulked down the dark hallway to our dark bedroom to get some dark erasing candles.  Knife at the ready... PEW-YA!

Turns out, without light, I can't see a damn thing.  And quite frankly, I don't like it one bit but that is for another post....

After I returned empty handed, I contemplated boarding up the windows and moving the furniture in front of the doors.  Realizing I would have no where to sit and I would only make things darker, I left our future comfy defenders of the home where it was.  Perhaps seeing a walker first would be most wise, indeed... Instead I decided to finish the vodka so I could use the bottle to store water in.  Who knows if this really is the end of civilization as we know it?  What if that was the last time I'll have vodka?!?  What have I done?!?

Even Brandine can make moonshine... I can't.  I can't even wear those shorts.

No food, no water, no batteries, flashlights, cat food... can't eat skinny cats, can we... most importantly, no alcohol.  This is perfectly ok because we know how to survive.  WRONG!  I do not know how to make moonshine!  I can not start a fire rubbing two sticks together but I can most certainly punch someone and steal their lighter.  Remember:  Monkey Funkin Badass with a pretty knife.  So I can stab them after I steal their stuff.  PEW-YA!!

Roberto is gonna stab ya!  Don't call him crazy.  Pew-YA!

Eventually, our power returned to us without allowing a single zombie slaying opportunity.  Perhaps this was for the best.  I week later I still haven't found a working flashlight or even learned how to use a Keurig coffee maker without power.  I will say that I have located all regional liquor stores on our planned route to safety as well as any potential detours.  I have also stocked my cabinets with a few more precious bottles... to store water in, of course.  I may in fact be the most unprepared person ever but at least I have a pretty knife. Hope you all fare better than us so until you are forced to find a wifi hotspot and a solar charger for your laptop, stay pretty and prepare!... much better than I did.  PEW-YA!

The "List"

Many of you have most likely noticed a slight obsession with exacting revenge upon my enemies... GUILTY!  I most certainly am.  It's no secret I'm not cheering for the living in this one.  I live day in and day out trying to crush the burning vendetta within my soul and appear happy/ well balanced.  But I can't.  Believe me I've tried.  There are just so many stupid people, I have no choice but to put them on "the list."  In fact, my number 2 reason for wanting a zombie apocalypse is to "cross" the names off.  Everyone loves crossing things off lists!  Ooooooh how I want to destroy them!  Dealing with vengeance is no different.  Just to prove that I am not completely bat-shit-crazy and this is all justified, here is an itty bitty glimpse at my list.  Don't worry your pretty little head off if you don't see your name.  This is just a small sample.

5. The lady who cut in front of me at sbarros in August 2007:  So there I was, being a cute and very pregnant lady who was also diabetically hungry just waiting to place my order.  Suddenly, out of the place immediately behind me, this whore decides to leave the line, walk around my child bearing girth, and step in front of me.  Seriously!  Who cuts in front of a pregnant woman?   So, first the stare began - not subtle at all, I might add.  I tried my hardest to breathe fire but nothing came forth due to the diabeetus cotton mouth and quickly dropping blood sugahs.  I ordered my food while attempting to shoot lasers from my eyes into her skull.  Unfortunately, our insurance didn't cover "laser glare" so since they were never installed and I was not born with the natural gift, my efforts were futile.  Finally, when I thought she may escape my wrath, I spoke up to comment how nice it was of her to cut in front of me.  "Oh! I didn't see you there" she says... "I'm a dirty trollop and I have crabs" she says... How the freakin poopnugget do you miss an amazingly adorable mother-to-be?!!  My wolverine claws had extended but my husband who had gone-somewhere-I-cannot-remember-and-it-doesn't-really-matter-anyway returned and saved her life.  He should of just let me cut the bitch.     

4.  My Husband for saving the life of the woman who cut in front of me at sbarros in August 2007:  You should have just let me cut the bitch.

3.  The Purple Block: This particular purple block has shown up in every room of our home and is always diving in front of me with hopes to make me trip and stumble and hurt my delicate feet. Oh purple block!  Why dost thou attack my feeties?  Why must you magically appear in every room?  How do you know where I will place my foot next?  Purple block... what did I ever do to you?  Oh, purple block! Oh purple block!  Nothing would please me more than including you in a lovely act of defenestration.  You... window... broken...  What am I talking about!?!  You can't talk.  You are an inanimate object that has no recollection of the time we spent.  Paris... Milan... the kitchen... the living room... they mean nothing to you.  You don't even remember them.  

Well, I do... I do.

2.  YOUR FACE!!!:  Sorry I don't know where that came from... really I just can't decide between Dora the Explorer, Justin Bieber and the guy who lives on the corner of our cul-de-sac.  Now those are some faces I want to punch!  Mainly the neighborhood jerkface.  Besides all the stupid, inconsiderate things he does, his voice makes me vomit.  Every time he speaks, goats cry and angels commit suicide. UGH!  I don't think it will sound any better as a zombie.  This one will be considered community service.  YOU'RE WELCOME COMMUNITY!  

1. Machael May:  Who is Machael May you ask?  A nobody really.  Just someone who drives me crazy.  Not to be confused with that TV host that put's her stupid, whore face on dog food and says ridiculous stuff like "yummo"  and "evoo."  Nope, M.M.  is someone completely different and just happens to drive me crazy.  No relation what so ever.

Machael May... nobody else.

It's not that Machael ever did anything to me.  She just exists.  Unfortunately since she lacks brains, she will never be devoured by a hungry horde.  This means I will have to lure her into a bear trap or a pit of Platypuses and hope her walrus face never escapes.  She just thinks she is sooooo perfect!  GAAAAACK!   You think a feast of venom is "delish?"  How about when they rip your skanky limbs to shreds and feed you your own intestines?  Is that still delish? Ugh....  And yes, snakes and spiders and deadly stuff (oh my)  can totally do all those things.

Not to be confused with Machael May.  This is not her.

Can't tell you how relieved I am to have this out in the open so you can totally understand where I'm coming from.  Talk about a load off my back, eh?  I often wonder if you or maybe your mom would understand why I feel this way.  After last night, I know she gets me.  Hope you do too.  Just have a few more names to add and a couple small countries to dominate. My man-meat husband tells me this posting is "court admissible".... Pssshhhtt. He's just upset that I didn't make him number 1 on he list!   Sharpen those knives and until next time, stay pretty and prepare!

Think of it as... an insanity Litmus test

Some people believe that the answer to their survival is to head out alone.  Lose the dead weight and the drama of a team dynamic and do your own thing.  Well let me tell something to you:  That is a terrible idea!  Living, non-zombied people need interaction with other breathing, non-decaying people.  Why?  Because if you are all alone with no one else to talk to you will do stupid stuff like this:

"There's Something About Prittay"

I apologize to everyone for what you just witnessed. But as you can see, braving the apocalypse alone is a terrible idea.  You could end up talking to yourself and creating romantic comics with twigs and squirrel skeletons.  Best to leave the comics to the professionals and find yourself a friend.  If anyone is looking, I'm available and already on the brink of insanity.  So, feel free to join me as I stay pretty and prepare... and make zombies fall in love!

APOOPalypse How

Focus on food and shelter all you want but most people forget the most important thing:  where to poop.  Everybody poops.  Except for me.  But since you all insist upon releasing that vile eeeevil from your rump roast it must be dealt with.

The infamous fecal instructional, Everybody Poops, did not have a section for apocalyptic meadow muffins.  Since so many of you people feel the need to drop the kids at the pool so regularly we felt the need to provide the answers.  Again, since I do not bake bottom brownies I have enlisted the help of devoted/undead and our newest contributor, Sir Pent.

Sir Pent has done hours of research to ask the hard hitting questions.  This is the fiber your colon has been craving.  More exciting than a game of peek-a poop, devoted/undead and I will give you our helpful and professional answers.  Since I'm pretty, I'll be in purple.  Since devoted/undead is a putrid dookie dropper, he will be in brown.... or maybe green so you can read it.

1—Tell me, when you’re taking a salad, what is it that you expect from elimination—do you take a no-
nonsense, business-like approach to firing your mortar or is it more of a whimsical affair of fancy? Is it
appropriate to even let down your guard for the 5 seconds – 15 minutes necessary?  


Salad is for eating.  And eating that kind of salad is gross.  Pervert...  Hiding in the bathroom from my minions has often brought comfort to me.  I believe if I can withstand the pounding of their tiny fists and their whiny little moans I will be able to block out the moans of the undead.  This allowing me to drift into fanciful daydream of life with kittens and cookies.  Now if you are not allotted the luxury of an actual bathroom to do your business, I suggest you stay on full alert and make like a race horse: practice the prance n' poo and add a "to-go" flap on your camos.  

Long ago I took solemn vow to live an A.D.D.  (Attention Deficit Defecator) lifestyle. This means that time on the throne is reserved for staring into space or maybe wondering where that mole on your thigh came from. So yes, my fundamental belief is to take your guard down for as long as the shiny objects in the room are able to hold your attention; or heaven forbid the preferred poopery has a window allowing you to imagine evacuation in the great outdoors. Post-zompoc pooping fights this lifestyle and pretty much all that I believe in. Therefore I will have to adapt to a mortar fire approach. If I’m unable to adapt then I’ll be offering quite the shitty meal… get it? Poo jokes are funny.

2—What precautions are contained in your bug-out bags with regards to protecting your digestive
systems? No one wants to become a fecality—it’s an embarrassing death.  


My body is a well tuned, perfectly efficient machine.  I only have to will it to achieve perfection.  This allows more room in my b-o-b for things I really need... like wet naps.

Unlike my anti-pooping wife up there, I happen to think of toilet time as an enjoyable necessity. If they made a pill that allowed you to never sleep again I’d take it in a heartbeat so long as it didn’t affect my right to poo (they considered that when first making the U.S. Bill of Rights). After the dead rise you’ll probably never again feel that “rested satisfaction” of a worry free night of sleep. However, you WILL be able to feel that “I just made extra room for my internal organs-delight” from evacuating Tushtown. Fiber One™ should market more to the doomsday preppers. They have a bar with 33% your daily fiber intake in something that doesn’t taste like cardboard. I’ll be packing a box or two of those in my bug-out-bag right next to my ammo and duct tape. The wet naps aren’t a concern since Kitty will pack enough of to steal.

  

 

Wet Naps are not for sharing.  They are for hoarding and trading for ammo and chocolate.  I look forward to delicately dabbing the sweat off my bossom with a moist towelette while you add some nuts to the berries.

I'm glad your primary concern after the end of days will be a case of "the vapors". You're lucky your so damn cute and can get away with it. The question is, will you be willing to share or risk your partner in survival/destruction becoming a fecality? It doesn't matter because you just revealed that ammo and chocolate are priorities. Now I know what to horde so that I can get my way... the apocalypse is going to be GREAT!

You are lucky I need you...

 

Replace Diamond with Ammo/Chocolate - she'll still pretty much have to!

3—Tell me about your plans for on-the-go sanitation versus those for a siege condition—how much
planning goes into poop? You don’t want to be lying on the ground with your knickers around your
ankles thinking “I could have prevented this”. 


As I mentioned before, I believe we will have to look for an "on the go" go method.  While you are all fretting on where to drop your chocolate easter eggs, I will have have to stand guard in disgust.  I suppose I'll also be looking for hand sanitizer while you look for a non poisonous leaf to dab the tears from the third eye.  

She does have a point with the leaves. Once the paper is gone you'll have to know the difference between ivy and poison ivy. She has an even better point with the hand sanitizer. Carrying soap operates under the assumption that you'll have water to use. However, if the dead are nipping at your nether regions while you're trying to make a deposit then you honestly shouldn't worry about washing your hands. That's something you can worry about right before eating or making sweet adrenaline-fueled lovin' to your pooping guard (I'm talking about me.. the rest of you can show appreciation for the person minding derriere-duty in your own way). Half of the zombies chasing you probably became infected because they didn't wash up right after defending themselves...... It's true - the "got bitten" thing is cover for poor hygiene. 

Also, let us not forget the black plague was also brought on by poor poop procedures.  We don't need to combat multiple plagues.  And there will be no entrance to the fun house if we don't have a clean ticketholder!  Nothing like grabbing them in the biscuit and finding out they have a little leftover surprise.

How can I follow that? Next question.

4—Are there any weapons you particularly favor for, erhem… stationary defense? 


 I recommend the crossbow.  Quiet, discrete and can be launched from a seated position.  I may not grow my own lawn sausages but I do water the plants.  Since I am also a sufferer of Paruresis (a nervous tinkler), being paranoid is part of the territory. The crossbow is perfect for my squatting-bush-meditation. 


I agree with the crossbow assessment. For a crossbow to be fully functional while in the midst of colon cannonballing, a time when you personally don't have much vertical flexibility, then it would have to be a pistol grip size. Pistol grip crossbows can still pack a good 80lbs of force - equal to that of the deuce that fell from you when startled into using the weapon while doing your business - and more than enough to punch through a skull at short range. Self cocking models enable you to load another bolt without using anything more than your upper arm strength. The action of loading another bolt will also aid what's going on downstairs (think of the times you have to grip the bathroom counter because releasing the krakken isn't going smoothly).

Not discussed in this post: floaters

5—How would you work poo into a tactical advantage? For example, zombies may not respond to poo
combat but it could be a useful way to scent-mark rival survivors.  


What an appalling idea!  To even suggest smearing it in the faces of our enemies and forcing it into their mouths is just unthinkable.  What kind of sick person would catapult flaming mudpies into their compound for fun?  Just despicable.  However, if I ever acquire a team of monkeys I will most definitely enlist their help for a screeching poo flinging attack.  On anybody or anything.  


First of all, he never said anything about forcing it into their mouths. When you say things like that I'm disturbed knowing I sleep next to you... while you're thinking about doing shockingly non-sexy things! But back to the original issue, I have no problem throwing my butt berries at a walking corpse. After all, they defy nature so why can't I defy decency? Then when my living enemies see zeds plastered in my paint they will no to not to go any farther. Then when I'm done I'll steal some wet naps and hand sanitizer from my wife, bring a looted dinner home and pretend like everything is normal. Can YOU think of a better way to deal with the end of the world?


First of all, your face.  Second, your fecal matter aka "butt berries"  share the same stank of the undead.  So, you flinging it upon their rotting bodies is like tossing eau de poo cologne solids at them.  Why would you shower them with putrid love?  Are you trying to fit in, have them choose you as their leader and rule the decaying kingdom?  Well done sir, well done... 


Can you think of a better way to beat the odds against a planet of undead?

I am now certain we have provided absolutely no help for your apocalyptic tush turbulence.  In short, clean yourself up, you filthy little bon bon baker and don't let your guard down.  Pack a wet nap and as always, stay pretty and prepare!