Giant Thoughts

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Recently it came to my attention that I’m not a giant.  I know, this should’ve come to me when I was in 5th grade and reached my full adult height.  Or maybe when I couldn’t reach the second shelf in my kitchen without a step ladder.  Or how I sometimes shop in the children’s department because it’s the same clothes for cheaper.  I should have clued in when I turned 18 and my boyfriend still called me “fun sized.”  I hear that 5 feet 2 inches is “short”, though I disagree.

IMAG0714 Giant ThoughtsWhat triggered the realization that I’m not a giant was the arrival of my new breakfast room table.  It seats six to eight people and is bar height. You can’t see this, but the table ends about 4 inches under my chin.  So I have to climb up into the chairs like my hypothetical kids do.  I didn’t realize this, of course, because I have to climb into everything.  Even when I sit on the toilet, my feet touch the floor only on my tip toes.  A friend noticed when I stood up, and started to laugh.

So then I started looking around my house.  I have a king sized bed though my husband is average height.  My living room furniture has two overstuffed chairs that could seat two people at a time.  I drive a minivan for leg room, which is sad because I have to pull the seat all the way forward to reach the pedals… though my boobs almost hit the wheel.

So there you have it folks… apparently my height doesn’t live up to my personality.  But I don’t care, because I’m 6 feet 5 inches in my mind.

 

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come

P.S. Candy Crunch Level 253

Chick Wit

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demure Chick WitApparently I am outspoken.  I’ve heard it three times today.  I would say naa, but then I looked through my posts and decided they might be onto something, though I’m still not entirely convinced.  I have always fancied myself demure and ladylike.  Well… I am… so shut your pie hole.

The first time I was told I was outspoken today, was by a friend.  She was discussing me with her husband.  He said he liked me, but sometimes he wasn’t sure what to do with how direct I was.  Like the day she was cooking during a dinner party.  He asked her to get him a napkin while sitting on the couch.  She looked like an octopus with all the irons in the fire, and he was doing nothing.  I said, “Hon, she’s busy.  Why don’t you get your own napkin.”

The second time today, I was talking to a friend about writing.  I was asked what I thought was holding him back.  I gave my unfiltered feedback.  Then something was said about me being the only one to ever say stuff like that.  Again, it gave me pause.  I figure if someone wanted sugar they’d go to a candy store.

Later, I was talking about the first conversation to a third person.  ”Yep, you’re outspoken.”  As soon as it was out of his mouth, backtracking ensued.   ”Well, you never mean it to be rude, or to hurt anyone.  You’re honest.”

So there you have it folks… three people were wrong about me today.  But if I were outspoken, is it because I’m a woman?  All three people that said it were men.  Are women not supposed to say what they think?  Or are men jealous because I get to use tampons?  All I know is that you never hear a man being called outspoken; some of whom have their foot so far down their throat it comes out their ass.

Here you go fellas, now you have your very own Golden Tampon award.  Now you can be outspoken too!

golden tampon Chick Wit

 

What you call outspoken, I call chick wit.  May you too have it soon.  Mwah.   Loves ya.

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

P.S. CCS update:  Level 241 beyotches

Dear Doctor Becca- Desperate Domestic

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Dear Doctor Becca,

A friend of mine told me that you’re the go-to guru for pretty much everything.  I need your wisdom.

My husband is a wonderful man, but he keeps telling me I need to do the woman’s work around the house.  That always pisses me off because he’s retired and we have yard people.  This means he only takes out the trash and I do everything else.

Thanks,

Desperate Domestic

Dear Desperate Domestic,

I agree with your husband that there is such a thing as women’s work.  It’s called bleeding from your vagina and hot flashes.  That’s it.  The rest of the work belongs to the people with penises.

Humans with penises have been trying to convince the greater gender that we are required to do more by feigning not knowing how to do things. You will hear things such as:

overflowingdishwasher Dear Doctor Becca Desperate Domestic

Yeah… I’m pretty sure he did this on purpose.

“I don’t know how to fix our daughter’s hair.  Therefore, you should comb the lice out.”

“It’s called ‘dish soap.’  How am I supposed to know it’s not meant to be used in the dishwasher when you never told me?  Sorry about the bubbles everywhere.”

“Photos go in albums?”

When he makes those statements, smile and say, “Bless your heart, you’re right!”  Then start your diabolical plan to screw with him slowly and painfully.  Don’t let on in any way you’re doing it.

weeds Dear Doctor Becca Desperate Domestic

Wow honey, that looks like a lot of work… well back to the air conditioned kitchen for me.

First, secretly tell your yard people that their services are no longer needed.  Then, collect as many dandelions as you possibly can.  Get all the young kids in your neighborhood to have a blowing contest so the seeds are scattered all over your yard.  The winner gets a lollypop.  Then laugh maniacally as your husband does “manly” work digging up all those dandelions by hand.

humple pie Dear Doctor Becca Desperate Domestic

Humble pie

Then think of all the updates you want to your home.  Accidentally break things that would require the updating.  He will spend all of his weekends fixing them. The key to all of this is to make him think you’re too stupid to know that you were breaking things.  Then offer to help, only to leave him hanging with something very heavy by dropping your end.  ”Whoops, this is not woman’s work.  I will go to the kitchen and cook.”

Then be sure to cook everything to perfection.  Dish up the perfect part for yourself, and eat it while continuing to cook the rest.  Burn it to dust, and serve him humble pie.

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

P.S. Level 217

Delivery Please

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Yesterday, my hypothetical rug rat was cuddling me in my bed (family cuddle time).  He is nine, and quite the mama’s boy.  My husband came in to join us, and when he held my hand, the kiddo said, “Daddy, it is highly inappropriate for you to hold mommy’s hand in bed.”  He was very serious.  The female hypothetical rug rat laughed and said something about the “puberty talk” video at school, and that she got a little care package.

Later, she showed us the care package, which was two panty liners.  My hubby said he was sure that someone would be mad that they handed those out.  Doesn’t menstruation coincide with babies… and then *whispers* sex?  I laughed and said, “The shock and horror!  They might as well have thrown in condoms!”

free condom Delivery PleaseWe started laughing, and he told me about how in college one of the local pizza joints would deliver pizza with condoms taped to the box.  I informed him that was a waste of condoms, as he went to Georgia Tech and no one was getting lucky on campus there.  The most they would ever need is antivirus software on their computer for cyber sex. He conceded my point.

Then I said, “Hey!  My Snowman arms business didn’t work out.  Why not start a condom delivery business.  Call it… Condom Express.”

“Sounds good.  If anyone needs anything delivered, it’s condoms. You get your gal all warmed up, and then have to leave her.  You come back, and she is sitting on the bed watching a chick flick and having an ugly cry.”

latex Delivery Please

I thought this latex suit would work like a condom but I was wrong.

“Right.  We could also deliver vibrators, batteries, and Viagra prescriptions.”

“Get right on that babe.”

“Will do!  Wait… um, who will deliver?  I would hate to be that person, and find someone covered in latex with a giant boner on the other side of the door.”

“Hmmm.  Well… you have minions.”

“True.”

So yeah, Jason and Rod, I need you to get to work.  Thanks.  Deliver the cash to me.

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come

P.S. Level 201 CCS

WTF Friday #38

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Real Products:

wrc WTF Friday #38Are you getting a divorce and aren’t quite sure what to do with the rings?  I suggest a Wedding Ring Coffin. For the low price of $39.95, you can lay your marriage to rest.  Personally, I would just sell the ring or reset the diamond.

 

catsoap WTF Friday #38Love your cat?  Love the way your cat’s food smells even better?  Then I’ve found the product for you.  You can purchase cat food scented soap in a beautiful decorative tin.  Now you can announce to the world you’re a crazy cat person.  For the amazing price of $6.85 you can have your cats want to eat you.

WTF Friday #38Ladies, want to pee standing up but your vagina makes it virtually impossible without making a mess?  You no longer have to worry.  A product called P-mate is the answer to your prayers.  For only $4.95 for a package of five, you can order these directly from the manufacturer.

 

In the News:

WTF Friday #38A man in Miami really wanted a beer, but couldn’t afford it.  So, he broke into a car and stole a credit card, and then walked in and ordered a beer.  The bartender started to swipe the card, only to notice it was his.  I’m pretty sure this guy is a contender for the shine on you crazy dimwit award.   Read more here…

gator WTF Friday #38

I got him good hahahahah

A man in Florida was jumping for joy when he escaped police pursuit for a brief moment. They had pulled him over for a traffic violation, when he sprinted away.  Little did he know a police alligator, aka my new boots, was waiting for him.  The gator snagged him near the water treatment plant.  When he went to the hospital, the police got word of the injuries and the location.  Gives new meaning to “See you later, gator.”  Learn more here…

Video of the Week:

This video made my day.  I laughed, but it’s pure, clean fun.  Thanks Jay Leno.

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

Ps. Level 199 CCS

Grrr This Week!

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hugs Grrr This Week!

You’ll get lice

So by now most of you know I was plagued with head lice.  I’m pretty sure some demon spawn hugged me and that’s how I got them.  The nasty blood suckers burrowed into my luscious locks and stole my dignity.

computer down Grrr This Week!To make matters worse, my computer crashed and I had to send it back to the manufacturer for warranty work on the hard drive. This sucks worse than lice sucking my blood, because I have all my family photos on there and I haven’t saved them to anything else (rookie mistake, I know).  I pled with my husband for his computer so I could make posts.

flourdog Grrr This Week!

What?!?!?!? I didn’t eat no flour!

Then to round it out nicely, my cleaning ladies won’t be coming this week. My house is a wreck, and I have to clean it myself.  Of course there is a school project that requires flour, so it looks like I’ve been marathon baking.  Even my dog had a white beard from licking so much of it off the floor… then puked up a cake.  On the bright side, now I know who supplies Walmart’s bakery.  Which of you barbarians stole my life of luxury and replaced it with yours in the pits of hell?

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

Ps… Level 197 on CCS Beyotches

Crush My Creativity

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candy crush Crush My Creativity Okay, so I might need an intervention.  I started playing the game Candy Crush.  I try not to play too many Facebook games, because they suck my creativity dry, and my soul a little too.  I’ve lost friends, lives, and I cain’t* write good no more.

It started out innocently.  A friend was playing, and I decided to check it out.  He needed an extra life, and I had a few moments.  I should have heard the creepy music from all the scary movies I’ve ever seen when I clicked “play”.

I breezed right through the first levels.  Then I had to request some sort of train tickets.  I ordered my minions (Rod and Jason) to start playing so I could get more lives.  Now they’re both candy crush drama whores.  With each new level I reach, I pass my (now estranged) friends and yell, “Suck it!” (get it?)

So now it is 12 am on Wednesday.  I made no post yesterday.  I wrote this one today between games, and I see the candies when I close my eyes.  My friends enable me though: they keep sending me new lives the second I run out.  Did I mention that after only one week I’m on level 191 (I’m hoping that by the end of this post, I’ll be on level 192)?  Plus, with it being available on my smart phone, it stalks me wherever I go?  What am I to do?

Oh yeah… get a life.

get life Crush My Creativity

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

*During the editing process, Rod asked me how to spell “cain’t”.  I said “Shut your pie hole.  I ‘ve only got 11 moves left and I’ve still got three jellies.”

I Almost Died

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It’s true, well according to the internet.  I wrote about it on Jason’s blog (click here), yesterday.  But it had me thinking about what would happen if I died?  I mean, obviously there would be wailing and gnashing of teeth.  There probably would be some sort of national holiday, but what then?

I have willed all my stuff to my local charities.  They were really excited when I told them.  The problem is that they don’t know what they’re getting.  I’m willing them stuff like my old, smelly couch that I’m pretty sure my aunt accidentally got sick on, my debt, and some old toys.  I figured they would pay the debt for me.  That’s what charity’s for, right?  I was also thinking about adding my bed side buddy to a Toy Drive… it has been suggested I consider Toys for Twats.

Then I started thinking of my tomb stone.  It could read something like:

  • tombstone I Almost DiedHere lies Becca, she verbally ejaculated one too many times
  • Here lies Becca, She died because you didn’t read every post on Lady or Not… Here I Come!  For Shame!
  • Here lies Becca, even when she’s dead she wants you to shut your pie hole.
  • Here lies Becca, she is now watching you when you’re sleeping
  • Here lies Becca, couldn’t you have done better than a tomb stone?  Where’s her monument?

Mostly though, I’m glad I’m not dead today.  But according to the internet, the grim reaper is around the corner.  And I kid you not, my computer crashed after I wrote this post.  It’s only three months old.

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

Gentleman or Not… Here I Stay #24: Appreciation

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ICAW Gentleman or Not... Here I Stay #24: AppreciationMay 6-12 was the inaugural International Clitoris Awareness Week, which just happened to coincide with Teachers Appreciation Week, Nurses Week, and, on the last day, Mothers Day. Just coincidence? I think not.

Why schedule ICAW over this particular week? I tried to go about this logically…
1) All mothers are women.
2) All women have clitorises.
3) The majority of teachers and nurses are women.

But I’m a teacher, and I’m a man. If my proper appreciation this week wasn’t diminished enough by sharing the week with nurses and mothers, now I have to contend with women’s magic button, and that’s just not a fair fight.

My offended dignity could be salved if someone might say, “Way to go for working with so many women,” or “Your mom is proud you’re a teacher” or “We appreciate how you appreciate clitorises.” Just because I don’t have one my yoda find Gentleman or Not... Here I Stay #24: Appreciationdoesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them. After all, research shows that women are more likely to conceive when they orgasm. Thus, clitoris appreciation directly leads to motherhood, which most people appreciated long before they did the clitoris.

But I’m getting off track here, because the A in ICAW doesn’t stand for Appreciation, but Awareness. Which is even more critical for men. If you’re not aware of the clitoris in the first place, you’ve got a long way to go, fella. Sometimes just showing your lady you’re aware of its existence is the most crucial step in appreciating it. And we clearly aren’t aware enough of it. Just consider that there are well over 100 various names for the vagina, but you’re hard-pressed to find even a dozen in common use for the clitoris. Which is to say, men only make up goofy alternative names for anatomical parts they actually care about. It’s time for some more clitorial love. C’mon guys, we’re not talking about the G-Spot here, which is still in X-Files territory. This little organ is funny mothers day pictures 216x300 Gentleman or Not... Here I Stay #24: Appreciationas real as football and taxes.

So go rock the man in the little boat, my brothers. It’s the only way we can ever hope to get a Penis Appreciation Day (much less a whole week). Also… I love you Mom, and all the moms out there. You have my everlasting admiration and respect.

P.S. Women, don’t ignore yourselves either. ICAW also happens to fall during National Masturbation Month. Yes, both are completely for real.

P.P.S. Becca posted a Mother’s Day story on my Squirrelly Writer blog today. We’d both be honored if you went and checked it out!

by Jason…banner manly 300x105 Gentleman or Not... Here I Stay #24: Appreciation

Screw You Spam Box

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I try to empty my spam box on my personal email account about once a week. I usually don’t pay any attention to what’s in there.  Today I did, and what a mistake that was!  I am now in a pissy mood.

spam2 Screw You Spam BoxWhy do spammers think I’m a guy? Let me tell you something “Spammers”.  If I were a guy, my one eyed snake would be giant.  Do you hear me?  So why the heck do you keep sending me crap for enlargements?  Also, I don’t need your stinkin’ cash for gold!  I don’t have no gold, so there!

What the hell is wrong with the world?  Don’t these people know who I am?  I’m Becca!  I’m famous.  They should totally have my junk mail tailor made for me.  Who the heck thinks it’s socially acceptable not to do that?  I swear, what’s the point of spam if not to try to seduce me.  (Well there was that one of the guy in the…cough)  Anyway, I shall have my minions delete my junk mail for me from now own.

Obviously, the spammer who sent me the email below knows who I really am.  This was the one redeeming message I received.  If I’d not gotten this one, you all would have seen the wrath of Becca.

spam Screw You Spam Box

I’m not worried though. I know my stalkers are in the trees surrounding my house taking out the snipers.  The rest of you are so friggin’ rude.  Sorry I forgot to be funny.

award Screw You Spam Box

x,

Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!