Blog Archives

A Valentine’s Day Production

Don’t you hate it when people pronounce Valentine’s as Valentime’s? Don’t you hate it when you have to wait in line forever at the grocery store, because everyone is in front of you with last-minute flowers? Don’t you hate it when people talk about things they hate about Valentine’s Day?

valentines day meme

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Well me too, and you wont have to experience any of those things today. Or at least for the next four minutes and thirty-two seconds because…

IT’S TIME TO WITNESS THE V-DAY COLLABORATION OF TWO DESTINED BLOGGERS! 

Who: Adam of My Right to Bitch (also known as: dashing) and me, Becca (also known as: many other nicknames involving the faux color of my hair)!

What: A virtual date!

Where: Right here on this blog, a diamond in the rough sands of this wasteland we call the internet!

When: Right when you click play!

How: Divine intervention!

I used approximately five exclamation marks just now. That is how you know I am beyond stoked about this. So, without further ado or anymore annoying punctuation, here is our vlog baby.

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Something Is Amiss

This past weekend was the Superbowl, but instead I went bear hunting. You read that correctly. I don’t have pictures to prove it, and I wasn’t actually hunting. You game wardens out there can calm down. So while you were watching Beyonce knock out the power with her bootyliciousness and extensions, I was searching for Winnie The Pooh. How do you feel about that?

woods and tractors

Bear watching and tractors. Fuck yeah. Take that Superbowl.

I can’t get into detail about what happened to me out in those woods, but not because I did anything illegal. The real reason I can not properly tell you about my excursion is because there is something amiss with my blog. While attempting to wow you with a post about my Bear Grylls (no name-pun intended) antics, my blog started acting… funny. And not the normal kind of  hilarious funny.

For example:

When I attempted to click the “New Post” tab, a java script error popped up on my screen that said, “Oh, finally attempting a post? Haha, nope,” and my whole browser shut down on its own. I wasn’t even touching the mouse.

On my second attempt, as I tried to navigate back to the WordPress homepage, I kept getting redirected to the Creative Writing for Dummies Cheat SheetI knew there was something funky in the water at this point.

As a true test, I decided I would try to answer some comments that were being neglected. When I guided my cursor over the reply box, the faded default message, “Enter your comment here…” no longer existed. In its place was, “Peanut butter jelly time baby cakes…”. When I tried to erase it and type my own message, everything came out in Webdings font. This is when I opened the Jim Beam and closed the lap top.

I’m befuddled as to what has been happening to my blog. It took seventeen battles with my dashboard just to bang out this cry for help post for today. Have any of you been experiencing shenanigans on your blogs? Is WordPress just playing an early April fools joke on me, or is there something bigger at work here? Any insight is appreci B============D—–

What the fu ( . )( . )   ( . )( . )   ( . )( . )

HELP!

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We Love Each Other

bad wrapping

I wrap good.

Don’t you love a good conversation with your family on the Holidays? My family sure does…

Brother (from a room on the other side of the house): “Come help me, I don’t know how to wrap.”

Me: “No.”

Brother: “Come help me.”

Mom: “She said no.”

Brother: “Okay.”

On shopping last minute…

Brother: “What can I get for Dad?”

Me: “He likes to be outdoors. You should get him a tent so he can camp out in the back yard.”

Brother: “He would probably love that.”

Me: “Or, a pillow for when he sleeps on the floor. I was joking about the tent.”

Brother: “I am going to get him slippers. If he doesn’t like them I will take them.”

Me: “I don’t think that is how it is supposed to work.”

Brother: “Do you have any money?”

Merry Christmas everyone. May all of your conversations be this deep.

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Hey You, I Think You’re Fly

People get down. People get irrational thoughts when they are down. People either break, or get through it. This weekend I thought a lot about two people. Tracy Fulks and Wayne. They both have overcome some things that are pretty much equivalent to that asteroid Bruce Willis had to blow up. I will stay firm in my belief that this is why the world didn’t end. Owe you one, Bruce. Anyway, I just wanted to recognize that there are some strong people around here. I look up to those people. Thinking about their battles and triumphs stops me when I begin to sulk over the petty.

Wayne gave me two awards recently which really boosted me, but I haven’t been able to participate in keeping those going. I think I made a subconscious decision not to participate in those anymore simply because I have too much already planned to work on. I feel a bit bad about this.

fly blog award

I am still proud of my mistletoe placement.

So here is what I am going to do. I am giving Wayne and Tracey my own personal award. The Fly Blog Award (holiday style). I am also giving it to Jillian, because she is one of the most supportive bloggers ever, and I know she will appreciate it.  Basically, you can do whatever you want with the blabel. Use it as media in a post, put it on your sidebar, laugh at it and walk away, whatever. But, those are my own real long johns in the background, so treat them with care. Don’t worry, you don’t have to kiss anyone’s crotch either. Unless you want to…

You can pass it on or not. If you chose to pass it along, there are no award rules except that you can only pass it to one person that embodies your definition of fly. Give that person the spotlight they deserve. You don’t have to answer any questions, thank me personally on your blog, or link back to me. Read the rest of this entry

Don’t Hate The Re-Gifted Blog

I am overwhelmed since the end of Becca on Fire, so this is an old post I wrote back in May that I re-edited for today. I wanted to revisit my blog’s history for a moment of deep reflection on how things have changed and how I have grown.

We both know that’s not true. I am really just too busy re-gifting last year’s snuggies and bad DVDs. So here, have this re-gifted blog specially selected by me for you. I will most likely not post again until the weekend. Instead, this week I will throw myself back into YOUR blogs that have been neglected in lieu of the beautiful chaos.

tuesday sucks

Is it just me, or is Tuesday the most uneventful day of the week? Check it out.

  • Monday is the black sheep of the weekday family, but at least it is known for something. It’s famous for all the wrong reasons, but that’s the way to do it these days, right?
  • Wednesday is kind of like the just-popular-enough step brother of Thursday. It also is often referred to by using the word hump, which is never a bad thing unless it is in the same sentence with the word surprise or butt. If you aren’t familiar with humping, just ask Daan.
  • Thursday is just close enough to Friday to switch your thoughts from putting proximity mines in your favorite co-worker’s cubicle, to thoughts of drinking rum in your  backyard in a hammock for two whole days. Isn’t that everyone’s idea of a weekend well spent?
  • Friday = Parties, paychecks, and pandemonium. I don’t think elaboration is necessary.
  • Saturday is Mecca. Saturday is that distant cousin of all other week days who ran off from the weekday family to live a Summer in Paris sipping Cafe au Lait by day and squandering Absinthe by night. It is the day to sleep in, do whatever you want, and then entertain the enchanting notions of  the unpredictable course Saturday night could take you. OR you can play Hitman until your eyeballs look weird and everyone thinks you are either stoned or Steve Buscemi.
  • Finally, there is Sunday Funday. Even the most chill day of the week gets an inviting name. Host of family barbecues, abundant naps, football, catching up on housework, and maybe even a little front porch swing action, Sunday is akin to Wednesday but with slightly better genes.

What happened to Tuesday? You never hear anyone say, “Dude, you will never believe what went down last Tuesday”. Okay, maybe you might, but for me Tuesdays remain the most mundane of all the days, and the only thing that’s “going down” is my spirits.

Maybe I will reinvent Tuesday. It’s time to take the monotony out of Tuesday. It will finally be envied by all the other weekdays. Here is what I am thinking:

Tool Tuesday: Wrap things in tulle while listening to Tool and sitting on a stool.
Why it won’t work: Tuesday will always suck, and I used all of my tulle to make an indoor hammock for Saturday.

I will be working on getting my shit together and writing a legitimate post with awards, tequila, fireworks,  people doing ridiculous things in horse masks and maybe even some real jokes! You know, something worth seeing. Until then, please go visit Le Clown and help him get another deserving blogger Freshly Pressed. There, I pulled a Santa. I am done until 2013.

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Picture This…

Why is there so much badassery going on in the WordPress crib right now? Is everyone not aware that December is supposed to be the Friday of the months of the year? It is supposed to be the free pass month for all things lazy, self-indulgent, and greedy. Y’all are messing that up for me (at least the lazy part), but you know what? It is worth it. Because I love you. There I said it.

Speaking of all things badass, there is yet another event happening that I couldn’t not participate in. Julie and Byronic Man, I am talking to you. I am after your sheets. If those reading this don’t know what I am talking about, that’s a shame, but I’ll forgive you if you visit one of their pages and educate yourself. So generous.

You see, just last night Jack decided to practice his own self indigent behavior. The little fellow wore himself out making confetti of my softest-sheets-ever and didn’t hesitate when he got to the pillow cases. To top it off, like a cherry on top of a resentment sundae, he puked right in the middle of the shredded pile and then pranced off to destroy the rest of my favorite things.

I may not sleep under my sheets, but they are still an integral component of the optimal sleep environment. So, come to think of it, I am not being greedy at all. I need those sheets. Plus, who wouldn’t want to sleep on top of one of Julie’s adorable chipmonks or the hottest guy on WordPress Byronic Man?

As the rules state, I have harnessed every ounce of holiday cheer to bring you the 25toFly Christmas Card. Here it is:

funny christmas 25tofly

A special greeting for you at my family’s expense.

Do you know what it is like to have your photo taken at every worst possible moment? Have you ever experienced the trauma of being blinded by the flash in the middle of your mascara “O” face (you know you do this ladies)? It’s impressive, really. The man you all want to have a beer with so badly can even manage to take a bad picture of himself. You may still like my Dad more than you like me, but if you keep hanging out with him for too long, you can kiss your photogenic-ness goodbye.

bad christmas pics

Dad has been capturing our sweet little distorted mug shots since the 90′s!

As if this post didn’t including enough of y’alls favorite things (my dad, contests, sexy people) I am going to leave this (rough version) here for you to ponder. The placement of mistletoe is in no way suggestive of anything other than the pure Christmas spirit.

fly blog award

Just kidding. It’s sexual innuendo.

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I Don’t Always Like Candy, But When I Do…

Fine. I’ll write a Halloween post.

becca hair

Here is my trick, now give me a treat (That means you Tim).

Actually, this post was sparked by The Roller Giraffe and inspired by Halloween, but is really just about candy in general.

I have never been a candy fanatic. I enjoy chocolate from time to time, and I will have a Twizzlers binge once every five years, sure. In totality though, I always was pretty indifferent towards most of it. I said most of it. The following candies were exceptions to the rule for one reason or another.

Now and Later Candy – This was a typical case of wanting what you can’t have. First of all, eating Now and Laters leave your mouth stained and tasting like the selected flavor for hours (hence the name?). There isn’t enough water in the world to unstickyfy your mouth. Then there is the whole task of removing the pieces that become fused to your molars, which occurs simultaneously upon the slightest contact. They are truly an undesirable candy choice for practicality. Still, upon discovering those small blocks of sugar cement, I was always overcome with desire simply because I was forbidden to eat them. You should have gone with a little reverse psychology on that one Mom.

teeth molding

Now and Laters are also widely recognized as a common teeth molding putty alternative.

Werther’s Originals – I once befriended a neighbor kid because her mom kept Werther’s Originals in full stock year round in a generously sized crystal bowl in her living room. I didn’t even get along with the kid, and her mother kind of scared me with her monotone voice and general disinterest in everything. I wasn’t going to let that get in my way though. You better believe that my hooked-on-butterscotch ass was knocking on her door every chance that I got. I am not proud of this time in my life.

Everything I thought I knew changed when I grew up to learn that the candies were not handmade and individually wrapped by some famous butler named Mr. Werther.

Peanut M&M’s – In high school, we were allowed to buy concessions at the end of each lunch period. There weren’t a plethora of options, but I do remember peanut M&Ms being the only candy that I would tolerate. I say tolerate, because I never really wanted to buy concessions. I had ulterior motives. I subjected myself to buy candy every day at exactly 12:35 pm in attempt to place myself in line behind my high school crush. Then I started getting chubby from all the M&M’s and blew my chances with him anyway. I was pretty smart.

green m&m takes it off

How I imagined myself in the concession line.

NOTE: I have changed a lot since those days. For example, I am definitely not still going to the gym five days a week for a record-breaking eight weeks in a row in hopes to have an encounter with some boy in 301.

Pop Rocks – Everyone knows that pop rocks are cool, because they feel like a mini firework show in your mouth, minus the fire. It wasn’t until college that I heard of a much different manner in which these candies were imitating fireworks… in the bedroom. Apparently, the hot thing to do was to sprinkle some rocks on your girl’s lawn and start mowing. I tried to be subtle there. If you are still confused, fire up the Google search. What am I your sex ed teacher?

NOTE AGAIN: For the record, I was never cool enough to test it out, but I do enjoy the intended use of pop rocks. However, this doesn’t mean I won’t get a shit eating grin when I see them in the store.

pop rock kitty litter prank

Then there is always this. Payback is a bitch Jack!

I have had my fair share of candy obsessions, but mostly my kind of candy is adding blue cheese to my salad, drinking whiskey instead of a glass of wine, or dipping my french fries in honey. Everyone has their own indulgences. What are yours?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

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Cordial Holiday Meals With The Cords

mad thanksgiving cat

I am the savage one. You might want to check your yams for cat-eye crust.

Well, well, well. It looks like Blogger Idol is allowing us peons to play along from the loser’s bench. I sound a little sour, but truth be told I think it is a great idea. I also like the challenge of having a topic provided for me to write about. The topic for this week is Family Traditions. You might need a cocktail for this one.

The holiday season is inevitably rushing towards us. I have to keep reminding myself of this, because in Louisiana it feels like summer throughout the entirety of this thing they call “fall”. I am not quite sure what that word means. The first in the string of holiday festivities for my family is Thanksgiving which then leads straight on into Christmas and ends with New Years. I know you are grateful for that uncommon knowledge I just provided.

I present to you a play-by-play of all three holiday dinners in my household, as they are all identical if you swap a ham for a turkey in December. The predictable behavior that repeats year by year is the tradition in itself. Your play-by-play stars myself, my mother, my father, and my brother. Action! Read the rest of this entry

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