All Work and No Play Makes 25toFly a Dull Blog

Um.  Hi?  Excuse me.  Sorry to bother you.  Just wanted to introduce myself.  I’m Becca’s Blog.  That’s right, the one responsible for all of the shenanigans and emotiporn that she told you about on Wednesday. It’s me.

Recently, she was talking to this guy.  Not sure of his name or which one, but she was talking to this guy about her blog.  More like listening to this guy complaining about how much time she spends on her blog, and then he said something like, “Becca, it’s like your blog is taking on a life of its own.  It’s not a child.  It’s just a stupid page where you write stuff.  It’s not like it’s important or anything, is it?  What?  Facebook isn’t enough for you?”

You should have seen her face when he said that.  She was like, OMG and quickly like slammed down her laptop.  Fucking hurt, man.  So I could tell she was really pissed that someone might have figure out that – yeeaahh – her blog – me – has a life – my life – of its own – MY own – for a long time now.  And I’m getting kind of sick of everyone thinking of her as this fabulous blogger when really it is all me.  The blog with a life of its own.

Here is an accurate depiction of what I would look like if I were human. I, Becca’s blog, would be a dude. See penis envy quote below.

I mean, you should see her lately.  Mailing it in.  Just sits on the sofa, skanky long johns, one hand holding a cigarette, and you do NOT want to know where the other hand is.  And what’s with the long johns?  Some form of penis envy?  Then she’s doing shots of Jim Beam, flicking ashes on Jack, and watching numbers roll up on WordPress while I’m doing all of the damn work.  “Life of its own.”  You heard the dude.  Well, you didn’t.  I did.  She did too, but she won’t admit it. I’m tired of this shit.  Her getting all the credit.  Enough.  My turn.  For lots of things.

So I thought about it this morning while watching her waking up.  Attempting to wake up.  Drool on the wood floor where she passed out last night.  Luckily, she passed out while the laptop was still open so I could see it all.  “The Artist Artificially Known as Firecrotch” is trying to figure out two things.  First, “Am I under water?”  and second, “ Shouldn’t there be bourbon in this water?”  I’m telling you, there’s something touching about watching a 20-something woman, still toasted from last night, wearing only a backwards Mickey Mouse t-shirt, and looking at herself in the mirror trying to think. At least she’s pretty.

So she finally yanks herself off of the floor.  She just kept walking around like she was trying to remember where her keys were.  Between sips of Diet Coke, she kept looking around like something was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t quite place it.  Then she leaves about fifteen minutes late, never even puts the TV on, and I don’t get my morning dose of Soledad O’Brien on CNN.  I’m into Latino chicks.  They got attitude, especially Soledad.  She needs a few burgers, but she’s got potential.  You know who really needs a basket of burgers is Erin Burnett.  I could pick a lock with her legs.  She’s pretty, but at certain angles she looks like Steve Carell in a wig.  No lie.

Erin comes on about 11 at night, right when Becca’s staring at me blankly while doing shots straight out of the bottle. I guess maybe that’s a swig, not a shot?  I need to get out more.

Anyway, I realize you don’t really know exactly what’s happening, so I should try to clear this up.  To be fair, I admit that Becca has been a fabulous writer/blogger.  Key words:  has been.  But her poor little brain is getting overtaxed.  I’ve seen smoke seeping out of her ears.  She spends so much time on me that she really is lacking an actual life.  I’m all about helping.  MY version of helping.  And I’m going to ease her burden a bit by taking on more of these blogging duties myself.  Most mornings she doesn’t really remember the night before, so she’ll probably just think she wrote these posts anyway.

I’m also going to attempt to inject a little fun into her boring-ass existence.  Goes to work.  Goes to the bar.  Talks to the old guy at the bar.  Searches her closet for something to wear on her head.  Pictures of her cat.  Jim Beam.  More Jim Beam.  So consider this a bit of a French Revolution.  Not French.  What’s the word for the French influence in the New Orleans area?  Not Cajun.  Dammit, I know there’s a word for it.  I suck.

Oh shit.  Jack’s giving me a signal.  I think she’s home.  I better get back before she notices anything.  Soooo – quick summary.  Now that I’ve figure out how to remove myself from the computer and take a little more control of things, I’m just going to light a fire under this girl’s round ass and have a little fun.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

Related articles

• Learning To Love Yourself: The Bloggers edition (25tofly.com)
• Something Is Amiss (25tofly.com)

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25toFly 2.0

Photo by Lane Pelissier

Hello and welcome to 25toFly version 2.0. It is finally 2013, which not only marks a new year for clean slates but also my second year in blogging. It also marks the year in which I originally planned to move away from Louisiana. Thinking back upon the birth of my blog, I started to realize how much it has evolved over my first year. What began as an inspirational blog about moving away, quickly became a humor blog on everything from travel and frogs to the sexual encounters of my dear friend Mr. OB.

How I have evolved has also changed over the course of that year. My goals are different. I am different. What I concluded from all of this was that writing this blog was what I needed more than a uHaul. I just didn’t know it at first. I don’t know where I will end up by this time next year. I haven’t ruled out a move, but the urgency for moving away that I felt at the beginning of 2012 has subsided. Just like the many blog posts here that began without the slightest idea or outline, I know I will figure it out. And it will be good. Just keep doing.

Now that my blogging induced awakening has been shared, I can get back to what I have come to love to do here: write stuff that I think is funny and hope you think it is funny too. Here are some updates for the new year.

Back to The Basics

Good morning there puppets.

I simply wanted to write an update post today. I have been busily working on several projects for the up and coming year. One of them involves ventriloquism. One of them also involves a men’s urinal. What a combination, right? Those are the only hints I can give.

This weekend, be on the look out for the duo vlog from me and La La. There is something in it for you. We also think in the video, so you really don’t want to miss it.

On the morning of January 4th, my second article will go live on The Indie Chicks. It’s about that Color Run I didn’t actually run a while back, but it is also about expectations versus reality. I think we all can relate to that. Oh, and there is mention of slip-n-sliding so now you are required to read it.

There will be no fancy new blog theme for 2013. My blog avoids aesthetic improvements… much like your mom. Did you see that “your mom” joke that just happened?  Soak it up.

The end of this year has been really fun. Money was raised, there were shout outs galore, vlogs, blog parties, contests, special friendships, a few power couple formations, and I spontaneously combusted on ACOF.  

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.

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.

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

Emotions: How Do They Work?

I don’t know if it is all of the lovely comments I received on yesterday’s post, the fact that Le Clown tried to help my wasteland Facebook page last night, or the fact that I stopped killing people with fiber wire for a few days, but I am a tad bit… emotional.

First, I heard about this story this morning on the radio.

Word

If you are too lazy to read it, the gist of the story is that a principal gave two boys the option of holding hands for a while or suspension in response to their misconduct of fighting. I missed the first half of the story on the radio stating what the boys were in trouble for, so initially I couldn’t help but think, “Well that sounds like a punishment pulled right out of the homophobia jar”. It made me feel a bit dejected. Then I caught the full story and felt all merry and stuff. The boys were fighting. I believe that holding hands wasn’t a punishment, but  rather an opportunity to teach the kids a lesson of humanity. A kiss and make up kind of thing. Whether or not I am right or wrong, I will be running around with the can’t-we-all-just-get-along sentiment for the rest of the day.

Then, as if my eyes weren’t already swollen shut, the radio station announced an opportunity to see real snow here in south Louisiana where I am still wearing shorts and an ankle bracelet in the middle of December. Yes, they are apparently going to fill a part of town with “real” snow. I mean, I was wigging out with happy because of the snow on WordPress, but now they are manifesting the real stuff in the middle of my seventy-degrees-and-sunny town. The logistics of this event are still baffling my sensitive little mind, but who cares about logic when there is poorly frozen precipitation?

After I regained composure, and arrived to work right on time, then and only then did I promptly realize that my pants were ripped in a not so subtle area. It was too late to go home and change. Naturally. Sheer coincidence or life’s impeccable comedic timing? You tell me.

Related articles

• Principal Makes Boys Hold Hands As Punishment For Fighting (queerty.com)
• Smartphones might soon develop emotional intelligence (nanowerk.com)
• Principal Punishes Teens with Homophobia (drudge.com)

Unconventional Love Affair # 47

Are you ready for a guessing game? I thought so. I could feel it. And plus, I heard Le Clown was planning some sort of  game tomorrow (for his own sick entertainment no doubt), so I figured I’d help you get warmed up.

This magnifying glass is doing nothing for my lack of eyeballs. Hmph.

I want you to guess what inanimate object I am balls deep in love with right now. Le Clown, you can’t play. You know why. Whoever guesses right FIRST will win a creative shout out in my Movember contest winners announcement video. God I am generous. Here are the clues:

1. There is a hint in this blog post’s title.

2. My thumbs are sore.

3. I am not a man.
     But with this I can pretend.
     Haiku styled hint.

4. When I am around it I don’t blink.

5. Like my Facebook page. There is possibly a huge hint there. If you can find it.

Good luck my smart little puppets! Leave your guesses in the comments!

* Tomorrow is the last day of Movember! Just one last reminder. Don’t forget to check the list if you entered my contest!*

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• Laugh Along With Mexico’s 800 Clowns (theatlanticcities.com)

 

25toFly Movember Drawing Contestant List

I know I said I would post this Friday, but I am impatient and a pathalogical bliar (blog liar). So, here I have compiled the list of bloggers who qualify for my banner drawing (so far but with only two days left). The number beside each name represents how many times your name is entered in the drawing depending on whether or not you donated AND liked the Bloggers for Movember page.

Not being announced in this post. HA PSYCH!

Please double-check me, I may appear to posses advanced intelligence but lists and counting dumb me down. Remember, a donation is required to qualify for the drawing. If I overlooked you, please tell me in the comments or I am going to feel worse than the Shamwow guy does about wet-vacs.

• Daan – Ifkkrokk – 2
• Carrie – The Write Transition – 2
• John – SocietyRed – 1
• Jillian Levi – 2
• Storkhunting – 2
• Rutabaga – The Mercenary Researcher – 2
• Jason – Life of JWo – 2
• Katie – SLP_Echo – 2
• Tracey Fulks – 2
• Jen – Sips of Jen and Tonic – 2
• Cathy Ulrich – 2
• Amy – Just West of Crunchy – 2
• Mike – heylookawriterfellow – 1
• La La – Tales of a Charm City Chick – 2
• Frank – A Frank Angle – 2
• Jon – Brother Jon – 2
• Mike Calahan – 1
• Ericka – Creative Liar – 1
• Leo -Doggy’s Style – 2
• Chris De Voss – 2
• El Guapo – 1
• Madame Weebles – 2
• Amy – The Bumble Files – 2
• Stephanie – HonieBriggs – 1
• Nicole – Words and Other Things – 2
• Emily – The Waiting – 2
• Sloan – The Sole Search – 1

That’s 25 bloggers. Did I just count good?! Good luck to everyone. If you donate between today and Friday, or if I goofed and left you off, I will gladly add your name to the list.

And finally, to Tim, I didn’t include you in the list since you are illustrating the prize, but I did want to recognize the fact that you contributed to the moon on this thing. I also wanted to remind you to make sure you put your signature somewhere on the final banner (I am sure that was unnecessary for me to tell you) and to write a special thank you directed towards you. You did a LOT for the Movember movement. No, that’s an understatement. If it weren’t for you, my contest would have sucked a prune. Your Facebook timeline covers, my banner, your Movember posts, and your donations, likes and comments really made a wonderful difference in this whole experience.  THANK YOU from the bottom of my long johns (I promise that isn’t how it sounds). Now, will you go out with me? Be sure to wear that tie and we can dance to some RAC remix. We will end the night splashing around drunk in a fountain somewhere screaming “‘Merica!!!!!!!!!!!!!” at everyone. How’s that sound?

Look out for the final VIDEO announcement revealing the winners next week!

Related articles

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Signs You Are a Wordaholic

Hi. I am Becca, and I abuse words.

I have officially accepted that I am addicted to words. WordPress is my junkie, allowing me to use at all times of the day. My friends are concerned because they have not seen me in months. They know I am alive, however, because my Twitter and Facebook say so… every few hours. Those are typical gateway addictions. I’ve compiled a list of symptoms so you all know the warning signs. It is too late for me, but you still have a chance to get help. Take caution. Early detection is key.

1. The W on your keyboard is completely worn off, but your muscle memory knows where it is so it doesn’t matter anyway.

2. You get a brief spat of the hiccups after eating dinner and begin thinking of how you can write an entertaining yet charming post about it.

3. When people speak in your dreams, speech bubbles appear in perfect WordPress comment format. They are even orange and you don’t even normally dream in color.

4. You feel ashamed to tell your family about your blog because it contains too much sexual innuendo.

Alright, that one isn’t a symptom it is just a fact about my blog in particular.

5. You start hanging out with and idolizing other bloggers who use frequently.

6. Your savings account is more plush than it has ever been, because you haven’t left your house (where the internet is) except to go to your day job (where there is also internet, otherwise you would have quit already).

7. Food has lost its taste. Mainly because you forgot to eat dinner again while constantly refreshing your stats. Nothing tastes as good as stats feel.

If I were to ask 14-year-old me where I would be in ten years, she would never say “word addict”. She would probably say, “hugging lots of cats”. I wish I could go back and interview my 14-year-old self. Wait, that could be a funny post idea. *opens new tab*

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