Becca-ism #64542

If you don’t think Becca-isms are real, just talk to my friends.  A moment ago, I uttered the words, “It’s like throwing a baby into a cock fight.”  In this case, context isn’t needed.  You just need to know that the person I was talking to paused, and then said, “Sometimes, when you say stuff like that, I’m not sure if you’re a genius, fooling with me, or crazy.”

I be cray-cray.

baby fight 300x202 Becca ism #64542



Lady or Not… Here I Come

The Red Pen Murderer

redpen1 zps0a9bf8f6 The Red Pen Murderer

I use Grammarly’s free plagiarism checker online because stealing other people’s work is a douchebag move.  Listen, I am asked to read and edit a lot of work.  And when your writing usually sounds like a monkey wrote it while delousing their cooch, and then suddenly you say, “No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.”, I know you’re full of sh*t.  So, between my inability to spell and my mistrust of people, I generally run their work through the checker.

What kills me though, is that now I’m known as “The Red Pen Murderer”.  Over the years, some of you asked me to read your works, and I made them bleed with my uncanny ability to always be right.  Then you all cried in your cocoa puffs so much that I gave up my editing gift.  My penance for being such a harsh editor was having to open the door for the cleaning ladies on the days I should have gotten to sleep in. Those privileged few who were able to receive my help can attest to the fact that I’m a royal pain in the tukkis. I go line by line, word by word, picking at it like the ingrown hair on your bum.  I use this process because, while I hate it being done to me, having my work shredded by others has made me a better writer.

 The Red Pen MurdererYou may ask why I’m writing about this when I’ve been the epitome of a slackadaisical blogger over the past few months.

It’s Rod’s fault.

He is one of my best friends and editors.  A while back, he requested that I edit his next novel. While I’ve said “no” to everyone, I felt I had to help him or he would throw a big hissy fit and refuse to fix things in my house the next time he visited. Therefore, I’ve been working with him for months (mostly because I’m a slacker), tirelessly pouring over his work.

pen zps94d9ada7 The Red Pen MurdererHe’s only on his first draft, but I’m extremely impressed.  He has a great talent, but every day, I feel worse and worse as I beat him to a bloody pulp.  I’m watching him slowly die.  I think it might be quicker if I used cyanide, but he lives too far away, so that isn’t an option. Plus, then he couldn’t pull hair out of my drains when he visits.  So Rod just has to suck it up and suffer.

So here I am, mean ole’ Becca, murdering more of his book tonight until it bleeds red.  I’m feeling awful about it as he gets thinner, his eyes get more sunken in, and he cries a little bit, while saying, “You’re so right Becca, I don’t know why I didn’t see that before.”

Then I nod my head in agreeance*, clasp my hands together, and softly say, “Many have uttered those words, then followed their own path and regretted it.”  I allow an awkward silence as he humbly contemplates my words of wisdom.  Then I wink and giggle, and say, “You’re bet your a$$!  I’m the best!”

Now, If I can figure out how to make enough money at editing, I can live off the proceeds.  Then I’ll have the luxury of crushing people’s hopes and dreams the old-fashioned way: just for fun.  In the meantime, I’ll try to remember that syntax and punctuation are only one part of writing; drinking on the other hand…



Lady or Not… Here I Come!

BrilliantBeccalove The Red Pen Murderer*My husband told me “agreeance” wasn’t a word.  Let me tell you, he had me feeling almost as bad as the time he hit me with the hose.  I looked it up, and says it is indeed a word, defined as: the act or state of agreeingagreement.   Who is whose beyotch now?  So you can suck it!  (Apologies to my mother-in-law, whom I adore)

Jealous Drugs

I come to you from the pits of hell to let you know I’m alive and unwell.  You see:

33vjmus Jealous Drugs

fukitol Jealous DrugsI went to the doctor, who graciously offered medication to make me feel better. The problem was that all the drugs that he wanted to prescribe me were jealous of my stunning good looks.  They intended to make a rash to take me down a peg.  You know I ain’t lettin’ that happen.  I put my hand on my hip, rolled my eyes, and channeling my inner Sweet Brown, said, “Do I have to tell another doctor how to do his job?  I know I’m brilliant, and so y’all need me to help out but, c’mon… do I need to tell you what drug to prescribe?”

“Yes please,” he said sheepishly.

“I’ll take some prescription strength vodka.”

“Uhhh… ”

“Okay, gimme some Omnicef.”

What sucks for me is I’m not feeling any better.  I had thought he prescribed a generic, but now I think he gave me something to make the bronchitis last longer.  I know it’s because he’s madly in love with me, and wants me to make a return visit soon.  Either way, this post sucks because of him.



Lady or Not… Here I Come!

Mad Moms in Minivans

As a mother of two, I often find myself filtering my blog in the hopes that one day my children won’t need therapy because of me. I’ve long since watched that dream fly out the window because of my antics and mouth. But I still strive to make my crazy shine with a splash of fun and a dash of love.

820 Mad Moms in Minivans

Remember this? It’s still hanging on that door.

Mostly, my children sacrifice for my sake. My kids know that my (minivan) swagger wagon is what brings all the boys to the yard, so they trash it to make me less attractive.  They litter their dirty clothes around the house so that I can make my voice useful and yell.  They even break my furniture because they know I love to shop, and it’s the only way my husband will buy me new stuff. I’m so grateful to them. In return, I’ve decided to share some blackmail videos of them.  The bonus is that you get to peek through a window into my personal life.

My daughter is almost 12, and shy as a turtle with lipstick.  She won’t let me film her, nor will she sing in front of anyone but herself.  The other day I caught her singing in the kitchen.  I begged her to sing for me on video.  I used my master mothering skills of locking her in the bedroom without food or water until she sang for me.  She’s a crafty negotiator, so after much pain and gnashing of teeth, I agreed to allow her to open a facebook account as well as giving her food. I’m sure I’m biased, but isn’t she amazing?

My little man is a mini me in goober-ness.  He loves whoopee cushions and silly jokes. I got him to record this a little over a year ago when we were having the sparkle conversation. I recorded it for a website I used to write for before I started this blog.

I thought you all would like to see a small part of my life that helps me find my funny bones so I can write for you.



Lady or Not… Here I Come!

Dear Doctor Becca– The Red Dress Diaries

Dear Doctor Becca,

period Dear Doctor Becca   The Red Dress Diaries My 13-year-old just started her menses.  I thought they might be slow, but they came on with a bang, and she is getting blood everywhere.  I worry for her at school, but the truth is I worry more about myself.  You see, she has gotten blood everywhere. I keep having to scrub it out of her pants, dresses, and bedding. It wears me out.  Help!

Stressed Mom, D.C.

Dear Stressed and Not Thinking,

ewww 300x168 Dear Doctor Becca   The Red Dress Diaries All females bleed. Show her how to scrub her own clothes.  Then be thankful that your son doesn’t bleed from his penis while leaving bloody stormtrooper underwear on the living room carpet.

The other approach is having her clean your panties and sheets for you by hand.  Remind her that the blood came from your uterus, which fed her until she passed thorough your vagina to be born.  Possibly mention that you also conceived her on those sheets.  I bet you won’t have to scrub a thing again.

Then hug her and hatch a plan together to make the men/boys in your household do it all for the both of you.



Dr Becca

Lady or Not… Here I Come!

When Your Season of Fat Reproduces

pumpkin 191x300 When Your Season of Fat ReproducesIf y’all recall, last year I wrote about my season of fat.  That is the time between October (Halloween candy) and Valentines (boxes of chocolates caramels).  I love my season of fat because I eat what I want and don’t care because I don’t have to put on a swimsuit. What? You made pumpkin bread?  Awesome!  Let me eat the whole loaf by myself!

All of this is great in theory, except that I forgot to stop at the end of Valentines day.  That, and the fact that I sat on my butt using writing as an excuse not to go to the gym, made for more than an inch to be pinched on my sexy elbows.  Apparently fat cells reproduce faster than rabbits.  Either that or some one cruelly glued candy bars and milkshakes to my ass… under my skin.  Yeah, that’s it.

sad 274x300 When Your Season of Fat Reproduces

This is me

Either way, cry for me Argentina readers, for I am no longer allowed a season of fat this year.  I will have to eat rabbit food and pretend to be hot for Halloween. All of this because I’m taking a girls’ trip to Vegas. Sigh.

Loves ya bunches,


Lady or Not… Here I Come!




WTF Friday #50

Real Products:

neverwet product WTF Friday #50Do you wear your food?  Does your carpet look like a Picasso with wine and stains?  Do you lack vaginal dryness?  Never Wet is the answer for you! (Watch video here) You can avoid stains on anything you want to chemically saturate for the low low price of $28.39.  Can I say that the nerd in my sorta wants this?

kitted boyfriend 300x200 WTF Friday #50


Ever feel lonely and can’t knit?  Need a cuddle buddy or a boyfriend?  Now you can buy a boyfriend on Etsy.  Just put in a request for hair color and skin color, and you’re good to go. I have a feeling BOB fits in there nicely.

sad dog 300x219 WTF Friday #50Is your cat missing the berries from his twig?  Is your dog embarrassed to go to the dog park for fear of being made fun of?  Worry no longer. Neuticles is the “revolutionary testicular implant procedure for pets.”  Don’t believe me? Read more here…  Even the Kardashians have done it.  I have female dogs; I can’t wait for the breast implants to come out.

In the News:

poster3 199x300 WTF Friday #50Halloween is coming up and haunted houses are popping up all over the place. I’ve seen ones geared toward scaring teens into becoming Christians.  I’ve seen ones where you’re being chased through a theme park. I haven’t seen one like this.  It’s call Shocktoberfest, and the theme is for the visitors to run through the haunted house naked so they feel vulnerable. If it’s anything like the nude beach I once happened on… the visitors will be the scariest part. Read more here…


nasa 300x184 WTF Friday #50Are you lazy but need a job?  Do you want to sleep all day and get paid?  You wanna make new friends?  NASA is looking for you! They will pay you $10,000 to lay in bed for a little over two short months.  You know you wanna.  Read more here…

Video of the Week:

This is funny if you watch it and listen. My hypothetical kids sing it all the time.




Lady or Not… Here I Come!

The Sparkle Exception

followers The Sparkle Exception Thanks to all of you for the emails, facebook messages, and comments on here asking me if I’m okay. I am fantastic; I just took a bit of a break from writing because I was tired, but I love you all. If your love isn’t enough to pull me back into writing, potty humor is.  Beware: I use potty words in this post.

poop The Sparkle Exception I’m a somewhat reasonable person.  I understand that while I only sparkle, most of the human population excrete brown stuff from their bum holes.  While I don’t understand the process, I know that it can be time consuming and smelly. That’s the most I wanted to know about your bodily functions.

So please tell me why it is that I’m forced to know about people’s bathroom habits.  Really, I don’t wanna know that you had stuff “coming out both ends”; just tell me you didn’t feel well.

poofunny 200x300 The Sparkle Exception Then there are the grunters. You know the ones: you can’t be sure if they’re giving birth, playing with themselves, or possibly seeking attention by moaning louder than a woman in labor.  Seriously, I have had two kids, volunteered in the labor and delivery ward, and been present at a family member’s birth, and never heard moaning and grunting so loud as some people.

Lastly there are those of you that streak the toilet.  Listen, if you’re a guest in my house and choose to poo in MY toilet, then make sure it’s flushed clean please.  I provide a scrub brush for all 3 bathrooms.  I don’t want to go in to princess tinkle and find myself throwing up because I saw your lunch skidded on the bottom of the bowl.

I think you should all opt to sparkle instead of poo, but if you’re going to do it… be polite please.

flush 217x300 The Sparkle Exception




Lady or Not… Here I Come!

P.S.  I missed you. Thanks for bearing with me as I took some time off.  But thanks for not baring with me, as I was dressed the whole time. icon wink The Sparkle Exception