Blog Archives

Go Home Fear, You’re Drunk

Hello Flysters, lovely to be writing a post here today. Guess what? I have a new article for The Indie Chicks that will be published on Tuesday, May 14th. It is about mistaking fate, and it is for all of us out there who are struggling to land our creative dream jobs. Please give my article some love if you get a chance to pop on over there Tuesday for a good read. I will post the link once it is live. ALSO, The Indie Chicks are having a Badass Blogger contest in which they have a Funniest Blog and Funnies Vlogger category for which you can nominate people named Becca. Hint, hint. Click here to help me dominate the contest. It’s VERY simple to nominate, but it ends May 15th. That’s next Wednesday.

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I posted a tweet last week that looked like this:

tweet about fear

Edward’s picking up what I am putting down.

This was the result of a deeply reflective moment that I had in my new residence when intrusive thoughts hijacked my brain. Intrusive thoughts are unwelcome involuntary thoughts and images that are upsetting or distressing and can be difficult to manage or eliminate. In my case, they often come in the form of irrational fears. And everyone knows that the most rational reaction to these types of thoughts is to turn to Twitter for comfort. Read the rest of this entry

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Shit Bloggers Do

Many thoughts run through my mind when I sit down to do blog related activities. Here are some of those candid thoughts. Thank me later by telling me that you do some of these things too.

  • The word exercise is the devil, not because I hate to work out, but because I will never be able to comprehend its spelling.
  • I should really learn to spell it though before I begin writing. No, I am just going to use Google. I support Google.
  • Great. I have successfully browsed to http://www.gogle.com. Why is that even a site?
  • Wait… I am not even writing anything about exercise.
  • Let’s see what is happening on Twitter.
  • Great. I have successfully browsed to http://www.titter.com. Good thing I am not at work.
  • I should Google search “how to type better” instead of “how to spell exercise”.
  • All right, I made it to Twitter.
  • Retweet!
  • Better retweet that.
  • Favorite
  • Who the hell is this naked chick?
  • That definitely warrants a retweet.
  • Favorite
  • Favorite everything!
  • Okay, I need to produce content.
  • Let’s see what  ideas I have been writing down. “Redo lupus sunflower seeds”. Right.
  • I should add a warning to my notepad that says, “do not record any ideas while drinking”.

The magic really begins after I actually finish a post:

  • Yay, a post is born!
  • That tag is so funny. Everyone is going to think that tag is hilarious. Who uses such an outrageous tag? You do. You are so funny.
  • Why isn’t anyone mentioning the tag? No one looks at tags. Sigh
  • I should go do something else for a while. Right after this last comment reply.
  • No I shouldn’t.

You now know the process behind running a successful blog. Congratulations.

Hey! Happy Birthday to Madame Weebles today! Go over to Le Clown’s page to wish her a good one and tell her she is young and pretty. Me and Jack did!

Lastly, be on the look out tomorrow for my big interview with someone you may know…

becca cord signature

You Are Not Alone

Some things happened yesterday while I was practicing all of my rebellious apocalyptic antics. Terrifying things, then hilarious things, then sheer miraculous things. The world gave me what I assumed were three parting gifts.

Gift #1

I could have used my words to describe this present. I could have eloquently explained the horror upon horror I stepped in found awaiting me around every corner of my apartment yesterday. But instead, I took photos of it for you.

cat puke

Casts love to get high on ipecac.

Why would this happen? Why would Ace or Jack or both of them have a vomit marathon? I wanted to be furious. I wanted to stop gagging. I wanted to quit cleaning it up. After all, the world was supposed to end, so  I thought, “what’s the point”. That’s when I realized it. The felines must have read my post from yesterday and decided to give all of their fucks away… on every surface of my apartment. It was my own fault.

Gift # 2

Once I successfully scraped up all of that plastered puke, I needed to get out in the fresh air and find dinner. But, the first step to anything is checking Facebook. So that is what I did. There he was. Le Clown again, being all savior like. He successfully saved me from my kitty bile induced melancholy with one of his masterly constructed and equally hilarious secular Xmas cards.

le clown secular chrismas

Someone bring me a Zippo. HURRY.

If cancer isn’t real, then where did all that Movember money go? Busted, Le Clown! I know you used that nice chunk of change to stock up on Astroglide. Alas, I can never stay mad at you. Thank you for being you, Jesus Clown Super Star On Fire.

Gift # 3 Read the rest of this entry

The Music of Mustache Make-Outs

Ever since Daan van den Bergh pooped out a glittery faberge egg for me on Twitter, then promoted me to the position of his official sound editor for his blog, I have been skipping like a leprechaun everywhere I go. I am mostly just impressed with him and his wife’s clay molding skills. Oh, and somehow he also talked me into being a make-out whore. I’ll let him explain…

It’s me, Daan.

Obviously it is the month for Movember. To those of you, who don’t know what that is, I am assuming that you are a newcomer and/or are living under a rock.  Read this post. Enlighten yourself.

Now, I want to tell you a story. I’m going to ask you to close your eyes while I tell the story. No, wait. I’m not actually talking. Just read it.

This is a story about an upper-lip enjoying a regular shave, a daily smooth-cut with sometimes a day or two in between. Eleven months pass by as suddenly November races up. The world gets darker each day as a carpet of thick, pointy hair consumes the upper-lip. Can you see it? It’s entangled in wire, caught unwillingly, all alone in the darkness. Can you? I want you to picture that upper-lip.

Now imagine that upper-lip is you.

So, I asked myself: what can I do to make these upper lips feel less lonely? What do you do when a guy feels bad? According to pop psychology, you either take him to a strip club or get him a hooker. I can’t help all of them and although prostitution is legal in my awesome country, it isn’t in the rest of the world. So I needed to come up with an alternative.

That’s why I got the Sound Editor of I Fkkn Rokk Studios (which happens to be the owner of this blog – happy coincidence!) to make-out with the 10 most ridiculous mustaches and share with us what it sounded like!

You’re welcome. Back to you, Becca. Read the rest of this entry

Blogger Idol

rockstar content writer

Google image result for “writer rockstar”. That’s hardcore man.

I discovered this contest. It’s called Blogger Idol. It seemed like fun so I um entered. Here is my personal invitation for you to join in. I want that feather pin immediately. That would be better than my business card.

P.S. I didn’t want to have to do  this, but apparently to win you have to be voted for on Facebook and Twitter. Such is the case with all else in life amirite? So-ah, if you could go ahead and get on top of that for me. In appreciation I will … do something radical… like post a video of myself doing something that makes you feel better about your life. Go!

becca cord signature

 

Me Vs. Mom Vs. Siri

Siri voice command

Driving on long boring road trips, like I did the last weekend, really does wonders for writer’s block. Not that I ever get that. You really have no choice but to let your mind wander. I found my thoughts rolling on top each other, connecting and branching out into explosions of thinking awesomeness. I can only imagine the inside of my head as looking like The Symbiote but less scary. Lacking pen and paper and furthermore, the skill to write anything legible while driving down the highway, I had to use my cellphone. I typed my thoughts in the notepad app. I can feel the judgmental *don’t text and drive* stares. I get it. I only did this because I had a friend in the car, and I didn’t want her to think I’d gone all Whoopi Goldberg on her with my body being invaded by a spirit. I was afraid she would do a tuck and roll out of the vehicle (I’ve watched the movie Ghost way too many times). Anyway, had I been alone, the voice memo recorder is wonderful for capturing thought blurbs on the go.

Other efficient ways in which I use modern cell phone technology:

  • I couldn’t live without Pandora Radio. I open this app before I even brush my teeth in the morning.
  • It is super convenient and easy to send pictures from my phone to my e-mail or Twitter in seconds.
  • If I need to search something lengthy while driving, I use the Google app with the handy voice search.
  • I do almost all of my banking right there on my phone. I can even deposit checks up to $1000.

How my mom uses modern technology:
Note: She has a more advanced version of the Iphone than I do. Unbelievable.

  • Is afraid to say inappropriate things to Siri because she “is afraid she will get in trouble”. Seriously Mom?
  • Finally gets ballsy and makes me listen to her curse at Siri to evoke (in her mind) hilarious responses.
  • Words With Friends
  • Words With Friends
  • Words With Friends
  • Draw Something
  • Words With Friends

Doesn’t she know Words With Friends is so last year?

becca cord signature

Start Getting To Where You Are Going

road sign with multiple arrows

The first thing I saw when I pulled up my Twitter account today was a quote tweeted by this smarty pants that read:

 “You know your DREAM IS REAL if you can’t go a day without thinking about.”

This coincides perfectly with what I have been itching to write about today. You guessed it, my current dream. You see, before I started this blog I had an epiphany of sorts. I am young, single, child free, and at least smarter than a fourth grader (those fifth graders are tough to beat). Why am I still twiddling my thumbs in the same spot I’ve been twiddling for 23 years? Boom. The drive to explore new places hatched, and my wheels began turning at dangerous speeds… at least during the honeymoon stage of this epiphany. After the initial excitement of the eureka wore off a bit, I really logically asked myself that same question. No, really why not yet? Here is how I worked it out in my head: Read the rest of this entry

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