i'll go eat worms

what a furry bastard

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 11:33:00 +0000

well, as you may or may not know, i work with "the animals" and somehow, i got sucked into taking home a tiny kitten. a kitten with "issues." a kitten who is orange and white and a DEMON SPAWN. as evidenced by this tweet.

and this is the thing that caused all the ruckus, if you will. do not be fooled by his fuzzy appearance or tiny kitten eyes because he would sooner eat your liver than be your friend. also, if you look directly into his kitten eyes, you might go blind or be petrified "or worse, expelled!"

and that's the time. becky wrote a high quality post. about kittens.

check this out (you will totally get that when you start reading) (i can't even wait)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 15:23:00 +0000

guess which one's me

i have a very favorite grocery store clerk who i avoid like the plague. he is so awesome. i love going through his line with chuck but if i'm by myself it's significantly less amusing.

he's a shorter guy (short=shorter than me= 5'11"), i would guess in his twenties, wears glasses, a simply atrocious haircut and strikes me very much as a mama's boy. side note: chuck is a mama's boy but his mama is super cool so we'll say it's cute because it mostly is cute. he talks in an artificially deep voice and is always, always very proper.

chuck and i see him as we enter the store and chuck always says, "there's your guy..." i smirk, preferring to think of him as "our guy" and we continue with our shopping. when we finish arguing about very important things like mustard and cuts of meat, we'll head back up front to check-out. when i shop by myself, the very creepy manager always manages to find me in the aisles to ask if i've found "everything ok?" to which i answer, "yes," or "i'm fine," or "please go away, i have mace." furthermore, i swear to GOD, male grocery store workers, if i have to walk through the produce section and answer the "how are you" question from every employee present, i may have to stop eating altogether. i'm nothing if not high maintenance and bitchy today.

i steer our cart towards THE checkout line and chuck hisses under his breath to go to the self check-out but it's too late, he's spotted a potential client and ushers us forcibly into his line. besides, do we really want to be the people at self check-out with one million things in our cart? granted, it's 10 at night but still. as our cart destiny is ripped from our hands, i silently thank the check-out line gods that we are lucky enough to partake in the cashier experience of a lifetime.

"how are you this evening, mr. uhhhhh...?" asks our gentlemanly host. "it's johnson," replies chuck. "well, mr and mrs johnson, how are we enjoying our night?" he continues in this manner until we've awkwardly made our way through a cart worth of small talk. he's "not doing anything this weekend," we're "maybe going swimming" or "perhaps viewing a movie." he's giving us suggestions on various cuts of meat, becky's trying very hard not to laugh. the best part is when our host says something nearly unintelligible and chuck says, "what's that?" i don't know exactly why, but chuck saying "what's that?" in his polite, higher than normal voice whilst raising his eyebrows and tilting his head sincerely, never fails to make me stifle giggles.

he finishes scanning the merch and always asks if he can "find someone to help you out with that." we always reply, "no thanks, we've got it. thanks!" "you have yourselves a great night, mr and mrs johnson," he says, making his concentratey face and angling his chin to his neck in order make his voice sound deeper, and he sends us on our way.

there's something comforting about the grocery store guy. i don't think i've ever been in that store without seeing him. when i'm by myself, i have to steer the cart from a different direction to get to the self check out because i'm a veritable wiz at scanning. i do listen to him as i check out in the other lane. he's pretty much hilarious with every patron but i feel as if the interaction between chuck and grocery store guy is special. i should really find out his name.

as we exit the building my suppressed laughter starts bubbling to the surface and chuck says, "what? ... what?" several times before i can master myself enough to say, "that guy. he's just. he's just, great."

6 things about becky by chuckletonstonaroonski

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 11:33:00 +0000

you guys are always asking about the chuck and really, why wouldn't you? he's the sexy beast who somehow landed this becky. he's the sexy beast who loves me so much that he's willing to be wrangled and harassed into coming up with 6 quirky things about becky. god, this took forever. without further au jus, i give you chuck: the genius, the boyfriend, the legend. straight from his mouth, to my fingers, to your eyeballs. with comments by becky in brrrrackets.

1) you get panicked about what the dogs eat. [if they eat dangerous things like toads. for example, this weekend we went swimming at my grandmother's and chuck noticed candi eating a toad. i had a minor panic attack about toads, yanno, being poisonous and then he changed his story to candi maybe eating a mouse instead. i believed him. then later, in front of my whole family he admitted that he had changed his story because i seemed nervous. ABOUT OUR DOG POSSIBLY DYING!!!!]

2) you shake your foot when you get nervous. [who doesn't, smart guy?]

3) you insist that the dogs need the radio on when we're not here and it has to be NPR. [hello? sound doggal advice]

interlude with chuck: "can't i just do three? six is a lot... huhhhh. are you serious? dude, serious? what are six quirky things about me? you can't even do it, can you?"

4) you fart when you sleep. [becky: "that's not quirky, that's gross. also, not true." chuck: "why deny it? you can't help it, becky." he's clearly delusional]

5) you're weird about plastic bags/containers we use for food and drinks. [sigh. just trying to save you from dangerous chemicals, poophead]

6) when the light turns green it takes you forever to go. you also stop way too long at every stop sign. [i got a ticket, poophead. gah, what a poophead]

7) you read 4-5 books at a time instead of just one. [this is true. i get bored really easily.]

ohhhhh, seven things! bonus! in chuck related news, he just told me he might start a blog about "things i hate." it's gonna be neat. on the list of things *i* hate? chuck making faces and or turning his head away while i'm trying to DOCUMENT OUR LIFE TOGETHER:

this post was brought to you by the ideas contest, submitted by erin. thanks, loooovely!*

*which made me think of: "my accent is a fucking broooooooklyn accent!"

dancing with my se-elf! (i'm not really sure what exactly happened) (don't worry, everyone's ok)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 21:53:00 +0000

dear snobby song guy (chuck),
yes, i *do* like blink 182. they could totally kick your ass.
love (reluctantly),
becky

dear blink 182,
please don't get your feelings hurt.
love always and forever,
becky

dear becky,
you deserve a cookie for having awesome taste in music while you were in college.
love becky

dear becky,
i will reluctantly eat your cookie but only because you offered and because i wanted to use "reluctantly" again. i don't know why. anywho, i've already had a tiny grape for lunch so i'll have to force myself.
nomnomnom,
becky

dear becky,
please chew with your mouth closed. jeepers.
it's for your own good,
becky

dear becky,
listen, becky, i don't know who you think you are, but i'll chew how i damn well please. who says jeepers?
eyeroll,
becky

dear asshole,
this guy says jeepers because she's a classy lady and she only uses swears for *important* reasons, like traffic.... and snooty assholery.
fuck you,
becky

re: "dear asshole"
i don't think i'm dignifying that with an answer. *i'm* taking the high road. (your face is an asshole) (you also smell) (highroadhighroadhighroad)
signed,
becky (the better part of her) (who's road is *so* high that it's nearly unquestionable) (i meant that to be morally not, you know, like weed or anything)

disclaimer: i have not eaten a grape in several months. i had brisket salad for lunch. yes, brisket salad. you wanna fight about it? actually it wasn't technically a "brisket salad." i just had some leftover brisket and some lettuce and some kalamata olives and some artichoke hummus and i called it a salad. you know what? stop judging me. maybe that's what you could have for dinner.

not sent from my iphone. but i did get one. just so we're clear. and then i promptly locked my old phone somehow. now i need the puk code what ever the fuck that is. also, i'd like all my phone numbers back. iphones ruin EVERYTHING!

and boom goes the dynamite

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 11:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

my mother absolutely loves taking awkward pictures in front of other people's houses, cars, animals, etc. she loooooves it. happy fourth of july. woo! fireworks! george bush! america! boom badda boom, badda big boom!

childhood memories: cooking with the fam

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

one of my aunt's favorite past times was making dog biscuits. she had two little dog she got with her then possessive, bodybuilder boyfriend. they got a little fluffy white one and a little fluffy black one from the pound. he wanted to let them have puppies. she had the gumption to stall him until she could get them altered.

she loved those fluffy dogs; the white one, a male, was her favorite. she doted on him, let him do whatever he wanted and took them both on multiple daily walks around the neighborhood. all this from a lady who had been scared of dogs her entire life. after falling in love with the fluffy pair she changed her mind to being "only scared by BIG dogs." thank you tonka for changing her mind on that silly notion. they went through some rough times together but when she finally left the orange bodybuilder (spray tan much?), they came with her and she was happy with the results.

she had paintings of the two, she let the black one, the female lick her make-up off every night. shudder. eww. gross. i freak out if one of mine just lick their chops incessantly. WHY DO THEY DOOOO THAT? it's like they know it's annoying. during the last year of my aunt's life, her new dog would lick, lick, lick any exposed part of her body. i would feel so guilty telling him to stop but HOLY JESUS! STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT! "no, you didn't do anything wrong, mary. it's just the dog. he's licking." "that's bad?" she asked innocently. "well, he's not bad but i hate the sound. is that ok?" apologizey face. she would always say that it was ok and then sneakily get him to start licking again. except it wasn't sneaky, she just forgot. she really loved that dog.

she started making dog biscuits with the fluffy twins and never looked back. she made them for our family dog when i was little, she made them for her friends at work and she kept her own dogs stocked. she taught my sister and i how to make them when she came to visit us from phoenix. we were preeeetty excited about it. we made the dough, we rolled it out and then we got really excited about the little doggy bone cutouts she brought with her. it was pretty super.

not only did we get to stuff every dog in sight with our delicious peanut butter doggy bones but she also left us the recipe AND THE LEETLE BONE COOKIE CUTTER! highfive, chestbump, knuckles, booooyeah! best aunt ever! we were set. for life! all we needed were the ingredients of which we had an almost endless supply. flour? check! chicken broth? check! saltbakingsodaeggsetc? checkcheck!

about a month after mary left, we were out of biscuits and we were pretty excited (again). my sister and i were going to make the hell outta some doggie bones. we gathered our ingredients, our bowls, our numerous spoons, our infallible spirits and began the delicate process. we got up to the part where every thing was in the bowl and it looked almost good enough to eat but then again, chicken flavored flour with raw eggs, not really my cup of tea.

however, my brother wasn't aware of the flavoring involved in our bakery concoction. in fact, he didn't even know we had the power to treat dogs to snacks. he walked in the kitchen with his older brother i know everything attitude and jammed his hand in the bowl, withdrawing his hand with a big dollop of batter, hardly believing his good luck. my sister and i merely watched, partly shocked and partly in anticipation. what would happen? would he spit it out? would he throw it back? would he sniff it to test its edibility?

nope, he shoved the ill gotten booty in his mouth. the whole thing. he had a huge grin on his face. he was proud of himself. he thought he had won. as he chewed our faces transitioned from anticipation to triumph. as he chewed his face transitioned from triumph to confusion to horror and then swiftly to denial. he would not admit he was eating something gross. he said, "hmm, what is this?"

"DOG BISCUITS!" we both shouted together, "FOR DOGS!"

i have to give my brother credit, it's one thing to hate people because they are always the favorite, the only boy, a kid who everyone thinks is attractive, nice, funny but the thing with my brother that you can never really argue is that he just is all of those things. you cannot fault someone who is genuinely a good guy. what a bastard. can you even guess what he said?

"i knew it. chicken broth?" and the dude swallowed the huge wad of chickeny dog batter, all the while smiling his irrepressible smile.

i couldn't decide which picture to post because they were both so cute... and no, it's not the same picture twice. chuck. *ahem* anywho, isn't this the best trick ever? i know, right? pants is the consummate model. she's got style, class and knows exactly when to eat the treat; all packed into nine pounds of furry. speaking of which, did you see the new dog page? it's pretty neat. o.

this post was brought to you by the ideas contest, submitted by eric. thanks, e-dog!

flashbackfriday: waaaaay back

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 18:38:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

this is my aunt (on the sled) and my mother (not on the sled). not pictured: dinosaurs slash something else really old. love. it. also, i'd like to roll around in that snow riiiight now.

what's up chuck (part neuf) (that might mean "nine" in french) (we can't be positive)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

my chuck is ridiculous, don't believe me? here's what he said. you can check out past what's up chuck riiiiight, here. yes, i did pick his fake name based on the phrase "what's up chuck" because, i know, right?

one fine day at the beckidence:

chuck: what'd you do to your hair?
becky: nothin' why?
chuck: looks different.
becky: it's wet. *right eyebrow raises*
chuck: you washed it?
becky: um, yes. *both eyebrows raise*
chuck: kinda different, huh?
[and then i killed him]

hair in the shower picture because a) washing my hair, b) i took it because it looks like who hair and c) where the fuck else am i going to put it? and it needs to be put. obviously.

we're watching tv on sunday...

becky: oo! "inside polygamy" that sounds like my kind of show! [clicky]
[watching show... seems to be some sort of crime show with police and guns. screen is showing a man running away from a car crash with a police man chasing, gun drawn]
becky: this doesn't look like polygamy...
chuck: STOP! you polygamist!
becky: [hysterical laughing for twenty minutes]

tales from the sunday couch: sometimes the dog tries to cue me when it has to go out by stretching. some times she just needs to stretch. i should have never told chuck about the stretching. thinks he know everything.

chuck: uh-oh, she's stretching [the dog], does that mean she has to go out?
becky: no
chuck: does she have to go potty?
becky: hey, don't say that word!!
chuck: what? party? ... we're having a party! ... see? i fixed it, she doesn't know what we're talking about.

chuck just said this regarding the bourne identity: "i think this is gonna be my new top gun." that. just. happened. dudes he loves the top gun.

becky: you have a boner for the bourne identity?
chuck: yup
becky: the BONER identity???

and now a short dear chuck: i love those deep conversations we have while you're playing video games. i'll say something, you'll think about it, and us and me and our relationship and me and my new hairstyle for 20, sometimes 30 minutes and then you'll say something thoughtful. something i know you've poured a great deal of thought and love into like, "uh huh." it's times like these, i thank my lucky stars i've found such a thoughtful and loving man to share my life with. love, me

flashbackfriday: my sister, a whore

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

in this picture, my sister is not a whore. she is merely a tiny human being of whom i was rather fond at the time. i could make her do things. we could go on adventures. we slept in the same room until i was in middle school. by the time she went to middle school our relationship became more and more tenuous. it was hanging on by a thread.

we moved here when she was in kindergarten. i think this might be the root of her whoredom. now, i want to take this opportunity to say i'm not implying that she sleeps around with super a lot of guys by my choice of vocab. i really don't know what she does with her vagina. i'm implying that her soul is a whore. she's got the soul of a dirty, dirty whore. and that's not to insult whores, that's the angry word i chose to embody my completely founded and justified angry, angriness at that whore. i'm not sure if you're aware of the fact that texas is like a whore training ground. this part of texas is full to the brim of whores. now, ladies who live here, i want to excuse you non-whore because there are some of those as well. we still like you. forever.

i could go into detail about every little thing she's done. i don't even mind all the sistery things that've come between us. stealing my tv countless times could be forgiven if only i could find something to like about her that overcame the avalanche of shit that falls on my mind every time she barges her way back into my brain. if only i could let go of the pretentious bullshit that spews from her every orifice. i guess i'm just not the bigger sister here.

i know when it happened. we were friends when we were little. we were inseparable. we held hands while falling asleep, her hand would involuntarily gently clench mine making tiny movement letting me know i could drift off myself. we would devise "diets" when my horrible grandmother told us we were fat. i would braid her hair or put it in a pony when my mother always got it wrong.

then one day she looked at me as if i was something to be ashamed of, she somehow decided that i was less than. i was not to emulated. i was a person she could no longer be affiliated with and she shut me out. she shut me out and has not looked back. it was funny, one time my brother, chuck, one of my sister's friends and my sister were all playing a board game, drinking and my brother and i were on the same team. it was fun, i loved it. then a week later, a week, she corners me in a car and tells me i've always been mean to her since she was little, my brother and i were acting like assholes and she "usually cuts assholes out of her life." of course then i said, "then why don't you do it?"

in the interest of family harmony, my mother begs us to be friends. she begs me to cut her some slack. and there are times when we can get along. we can stand to be near. and i really, truly do want to be friends with her. i do. i thought if we went to therapy, with an unbiased third party, we could begin to heal our differences. but ya know what? yeah. my sister's "always at work" twenty four hours a fuckin' day. so fuck that.

ha! this is such a happy funny post, i bet you're kicking yourselves now, arncha? that's why i just stick to calling her a whore. because now i do sound like an asshole. you're mumbling it under your breath. when you meet her, then we'll talk. aren't we just the cutest???? I KNOW!

wicked, pizza, crocodiles and my mother's horrid driving

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

chuck, my mother and i went for dinner and a show sunday. oh, we picked up my whorey sister on the way. first to dinner, fireside pies are aaaaawesome and, you guessed it, gluten free! highfive! after listening to my mother fill the silence in the car for the twenty minute ride to get my sister, sometimes it's better to let her get out a lot of chatty before even trying to edge your way into the conversation, she decided to shock us by saying that she and my father might have to move and might not and we won't know an answer for another year.

"well, your father just said i should write a bestselling book and then we wouldn't have to even think about moving..."
"hey! that's what chuck said to me but-" i turn in the car to glare at chuck, "you didn't even read my dream! did you?!!"
he puts his hands up, "i did, i did!"
"hmmm, what's it about?"
"i- i don't really remember. i- wait! i remember thinking it had a lot of details."
"dude. what the frick does that mean? good details? bad details?"
"i meant a lot of details for a dream. it was good!"
"it's one of the two most vivid dreams i've even had."
"what was your other dream about?" my sister asks, reminding me there are other people in the car while i'm interrogating chuck.
"crocodiles, i was-"
"oo! i heard a thing about crocodiles around here! the newscaster said they were getting around because of the help of... something... i can't remember what is was..." my mother interjects because, obviously, she must muscle her way back into the conversation since it's been at least 2 minutes.
"feet?" i ask.
"yes feet, becky. no, not feet! i can't remember..." my mother says while chuckling.
"so, anywho, in that dream i was a crocodile. it was sort of a folklore story. i'm actually terrified of crocodiles. [shudder] man, they're big and teethy."

my mom is a horrid driver. like, the worst. she claims she's really great at driving but she's a really great liar because that is a lie. we were driving around down town trying to get from delicious pizza to wonderful wicked, my mom was unsure of the route but was willing to take one of her famous "long cuts." we were coming up to a stop light and she was in the far left hand lane when she did another classic move, the one where she gets out of that lane goes into another lane, jerks back into the left lane and then decides to make a right turn. it was excellent. we were alone, traveling two miles an hour during the whole thing lest you think anyone was in danger of losing anything but their sanity. she also used to peel apples for us while driving.

we get up to the next stop light and she does almost the same thing exactly again. exactly. i whipped my head around to see if we're being tailed by any sort of shady crime organization and announce to the car in general, "if you guys thought anyone could follow us tonight," *slantedaccusatoryeyes* "they are RIGHT OUT OF LUCK! nobody could follow this dare devil! i think i'll just write a blog post about this," i say as an aside to my mother while everyone laughs. "shut. up," she says while smiling.

i'm not so worried about my mother finding my blog, she would just be "disappointed" that i call my sister a whore a lot. but, meh. she would mostly find it funny. i dunno why i keep telling people i have a secret blog, it's like a undeniable compunction. i think maybe they think i'm joking. someday when i make it big, they'll be all shocked and stuff.

you'll be pleased to know, we made it to the show with no further incidents. i got in trouble at the play for saying dammit and bastard. i feel like the audience could handle my indiscretions, chuck did not. dammit, what a bastard. the show (wicked) was packed and we all really enjoyed it, despite being super hacked off at myself for forgetting my binoculars. has anyone else read the book slash seen the play and want to discuss things with me? hmmmm?

fizzle.

UPDATE: jesus! i saw WICKED!!! wick! ed! sorry...

flashbackfriday: sons of anarchy edition (now with more twitter)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

we've been watching a loooooot of so' o' anck. they ride the motorcycles. and they're, like in a gang. my dad was in a motorcycle gang. with his awesome silver cycle. fist bump.

speaking of twitter and that contest nobody entered, oh dubya oh told me to make you a poem. i suck at poems so i was all, "pfft." then this happened. i think i might be a genius.

ps now i have someone to answer the phone. highfive! ... now where will i get my inspiration?

things you should know that i probably told you but you weren't listening. you should really listen to what i say. i got alotta good stuff up here.

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 11:33:00 +0000

i keep seeing things like, "why didn't anyone tell me it's always sunny in philadelphia is an awesome show?" or "hey this movie sucks? how come you didn't tell me?" well, guess what? i can't do all the goddamn work but here's a list of things you should know:

it's always sunny in philadelphia is fucking awesome. stop being an asshole and watch it.
dexter? yes, but don't talk to anyone who has watched it because they will immediately ruin it and you will have to kill them but that's not going to help because what's been said has been said.
californication? meh but worth it for ~~fox mulder~~ david duchovny
flight of the conchords: seriously, if you haven't seen this show you might as well kill yourself right now. so. funny.
kids in the hall: do it
where the wild things are movie: NO
new robin hood movie: do not go with chuck who will tell you russell crow looks like my dad and then you'll spend the whole movie wondering if he really does look like my dad or if it's just because he has a beard. and really, that's just distracting and not at all helpful, chuck.
the wire: first of all, omar is mine. second, netflix this bitch right up
birkram yoga: try it once. if only for the story. p.s. don't leave the room. just don't do it. stay. in. the. room.
fennel: dude. best thing ever.
papaya: dude, seriously. best thing ever.
avacado? seriously? you haven't tried this? seriously? bestthingever
twitter: you know what? just stop it and come on. i know you're being all, "i'm too cool for twitter" and everything, but seriously. i say alotta funny stuff on there, assholes. you missed this and this and this but not this.
waterless shampoo: yes, it is real and you totally need to try it right now.
this mascara: comes off really easily, doesn't flake and i love it. "double extend:" mascara or penis enhancement? we'll never know.
tend skin: this is the single greatest thing to ever happen to my skin ever. my armpits have never been the same. i use it for deodorant as well. no whiteness, no grease, no weird flower smell that smells not like flowers at all. bikini line? smoothness.
cloth handkerchiefs for the nose blowing. your nose will thank you.
cloth period pads: omg. i feel the eyerolls and the that's-just-gross laser beam looks. it's. so. much. better.
the fucking CUP you guys. jesus. just fucking do it!
coconut water: yum and delicious and potassium and yes.
polarized sunglasses: or any sunglasses. do it for your eyes. dark and polarized are the best. i like to see and i would like to continue doing it. hee, hee, doing it.
grill wok: best thing to ever happen to my grilling life. love. it.

cupping: i was just in a small car crash-a-rooni and it messed up my back, i went to get a massage with cupping and i am still alive and my neck is still all move-y. score! and then your back looks like this!
stop washing yer damn hair all the damn time. i mean it. i also use non-sulfate shampoo because it doesn't strip everything off your head. i love the burt's bees stuff because they have a few that are gluten free! highfive!
good dog food: your dog only lives a short time (which is just bullshit) so feed it something good with high quality ingredients. i feed EVO currently but everything changes so quickly these days that you really have to keep up with suppliers, etc. no food from china yet, kids they just can't be trusted. if melamine can get into baby formula then i'm not willing to let my guard down yet.
jimmyjane form 2: yes! yes! YES! YES! yesssssss.... (get it, because it's a vibrator? i know!)

and now you know some of the things i know that you should know and do. like, for real, if you don't do these things then you're just being silly and stubborn. c'mon. do you have anything else you'd like to ask me? clearly, i'm a fracking prophet.

women in the workplace: why furry animals ruined my life

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 17:18:00 +0000

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of June, we’ve chosen to write about Women in the Workplace. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

veterinary medicine is filllllled with women. women DVMs, women technicians, women receptionists.... women, women, women. sometimes we have pillow fights.

and if the DVM is a male, then he's forever talking about "his girls" or "the girls in the back" or "the girls will take care of you." he's forever surrounded by women. the percentage of male techs? low. the percentage of male DVMs only slightly higher. where are the vast majority of male techs and DVMs working? the techs are working at specialty clinics and emergency clinics, the DVMs are doing the same or they own their own hospital.

i went to school to become an RVT (registered veterinary technician). how many men were in my class? one. there was one guy who made it all the way through and there was one who dropped out. my class was 34 people when it started. i was recently told that having my degree was essentially "worthless" because I could have just been trained on the job, it's not helpful and nobody cares about it.

the question is often asked, "why are there so many women in veterinary medicine?" "why is the pay so low?" "why should technicians be required to obtain standardized education?" among people i've met in the industry the ringing phrase that's chanted over and over is "you have to really love animals to work in this field." followed by a chuckled, a knowing smile and the accompanying phrase, "because you're certainly not going to get any money out of it."

i'm not suggesting that we model the veterinary industry after human medicine but an RN is respected, sought after and fairly paid. i must have a much more varied knowledge and skill set to work with animals and my degree is deemed worthless by people in the industry. i have to know about all sorts of very different animals as well as be able to be every "specialty" nurse in the hospital. wellness, routine surgery, ICU, phlebotomist, behavior.... the list goes on.

there are women with the same education as i have who work for a third of what i'm making and that's not much. i can't speak to their skill level but that's just unfair. the base salaries for techs are too varied to even get an idea of what is standard.

on some level, i feel as if an RVT working for $7 an hour is partly to blame. i ~~made~~ strongly suggested a classmate of mine quit the hospital she worked for during school because the current RVT was making what untrained pooper scoopers make at "good" hospitals.

the atrocities that occur on a daily basis in the veterinary business would shock most pet owners. i strongly feel that if a hospital/clinic does not have any credentialed techs in their employment, the DVM is hiding something. in many cases, they do not want educated staff questioning their actions. they do not want staff questioning authority. they do not want to practice high quality medicine, period.

on some level, i feel like women have painted themselves into a corner in my industry. it's so easy to fall in love with tiny cuddly animals and "fix" them for less money or no money. it's so easy for me to want to take on yet another animal that nobody else really cares about. i would not give up the part of me who is able to care and to love animals for any amount of money. it does anger me, however that women use excuses to stay in situations they know are wrong, if only to make a slight difference in the life of the animals in question.

this does not mean that i condone any woman working in less than ideal circumstances just because "nobody else will." it makes me angry that women will not (cannot?) stand up for themselves when it comes to money. yes, i love most of my job but i will not work at a hospital that does not adhere to high standards in medicine, does not respect my education and will not pay me a fair amount of money. i wish i could convince other women to do the same.

the hero and the rash: becky is an american hero

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 31 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

this is the conclusion to "becky was trapped in a room for eight hours with no internet with hitherto unknown lethal amounts of boring." i bet you guys didn't know there was more of this shit. well, there is more of this shit. it was eight. hours. loooong. there's even more than this. i cut some out. you're welcome.

well, here's what happened. i went to the store to get some essentials on a monday. we're trying to be frugal so the only time i can get my, very needed, coconut water, cranberry pills, $20 a carton ice cream and eco-friendly dish soap is on my day off because otherwise i'd have to listen to the nagging. about fucking ice cream... I NEED IT, OK????

SO THERE I WAS... *ahem* forgot about capslock there for a mo'. so there i was, driving along in my car with my groceries in those awesome little re-usable bags that you can get now-a-days with like cute shit on them like baby deers and stuff; see? saving money! that might not be how that works. anywho, car filled to the brim with groceries, i see my favorite nursery by the side of the road, *EEERRR!* i stopped to take a quick look because, hello? the $20 dollar ice cream is safely in one of those cooler bags and won't melt in my car because it's only, like 80 degrees outside anyway.

hmmm, marigolds and dirt and this little guy with the tiny leaves and tiny purple flowers and maybe this shiny, shiny pot needs to go home with me. aaah, i feel all garden-y and stuff. i got back in the car, patted my cooler bag safely cooling my ice cream. i pulled out onto the road, got into the "fast" lane and started cruising, while listening to harry potter. again.

what's that?

is that a-?

omg, that's really a dog this time!

at this point, i'm running through the options in my head. i'm always thinking i see tiny animals in distress on the side of the road. a few times, i was convinced there was a baby. i have some sort of complex. should i call animal control? should i try to get out? i usually just call animal control because that's their job and i don't have time to go chasing asshole dogs all day. assholes. this time, however was different because this asshole was in the middle of a three lane road with a bajillion cars whizzing by it.

i did the u-turn. u-turned again and pulled over. by this time, the dog has re-crossed the three lanes to get back to my side. actually, that was kinda nice because then i just pulled over in the right-hand lane, put my hazards* on and attempted rescue. this part was relatively simple, i squatted said, "HIIII!" and she came running. success!

then i heard a deep baying coming from somewhere else. i looked all around, checked my car, still ok, swiveled my head back the other direction and found the source located behind a wrought iron fence. this little black and white dog's match and partner in crime. what. a. bastard. "onward!" i said. and onward i went to the fence that was juuust short enough i could touch the dog and juuuuust tall enough i couldn't get his ungrateful scruff. what to do?

i turned back to my car to plan my next step and was greeted with the sight of my car at the front of about FIFTEEN other cars, including a flashy-flashy-lights-car containing a cop. stink. i thought to myself, aw geez, now i'm gonna get yelled at. i quickly got back in my car and waited for the, "you're endangering yourself, that dog and all these people behind you" talk. i was pleasantly surprised by the niceness of this dude. he asked me if that was my dog, i said no, that it was in the middle of the road. which it was, recently. i pointed out the other dog and we decided to pull up to get around the fence the other dog was behind at a bank.

long story short, (i know right?) got 'em both, they had an adorable meeting where the girl dog (the one on the road) completely ignored the boy dog (behind the fence) while he was licking and licking and nuzzling her all over. awwww. then the cop, in another unanticipated move, offers to stay with them while he waits for animal control. "awesome, i have ice cream!" i say. highcopfive!

he then puts them in the back of his cop car while saying something about them being "under arrest" so that he can give me back my leash. ohhh, cop humor. yes, i do have a leash in my car for just such an occasion. i hope they wait for their lawyer before incriminating themselves. ahahahaha.... dog humor. because lawyers, dogs, getit? i know!

problem? solved. black and white road dogs? forgotten. until.... [weighty pause with significant, foreshadow-y, slow head shake]... twitter displays the horror in 140 characters or less....

illustration:

pictograph:

too much time and/or love on my hands. (i vote love. always. vote. love.):

the moral of the story: the ice cream was deliciously frozen and wonderful. you should totally get one of those cooler bags because they totally work. and they're real money savers.

second more practical moral: you can get poison ivy from a dog if they have the poison ivy oil on their fur. assholes.

*one time i yelled at my mom for putting on her hazard lights because, "THIS ISN'T A REAL EMERGENCY, MOM!!!"

first grade flashbacks

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 28 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

this was from first grade. they had like a whole festival every year. with snakes! my *ahem* first grade boyfriend. we were very hip. the entire first grade story is here for your enjoyment. it might have something to do with urine. fair warning.

if you'd like to claim "continuing education" you'd better have some NEW SHIT in there.

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 24 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

this is the fourth installment of becky's handwriting (check here for moresies). today, really bad drawrings are brought to you by "becky locked in a room with no internet for eight hours while listening to boring drivel pertaining to pet food." it was awful, y'all.

clicky to embiggen...

this last one i was scanning and then i was like, “what if i make the other page all wiggly when i scan i instead of boring back of page?” and i did it and never looked back. i'm pleased with the results. isn't it just the wiggliest? eee!

UPDATE: read about aliens contacting me here. and here. but definitely not here.

scared becky on the carousel

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 21 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

so, carouselbecky. she's riding, she's thinking, she's possibly pouting or maybe angry. who knows. she's contemplative, really. she's very complex.

you guys, i'm going to have to start posting, "becky, the awkward years" soon. i was in choir, y'all. choir. it's gonna be super embarrassing. i have a whole series i've labeled "kerchiefs" because there are a lot of them. my hands are all clammy. i can't feel my feet.

guess what i have for you on MOOOOONday??? guess. no, guess. do it. just one guess.... ok, fine, it's more handwriting. eeeee! i was at a CE seminar all day this week. no internet, i know! but i had markers! and a notebook! and imaginaaaaation. that's all you really need for a good time: imaginaaaation. and liquor. i did not have liquor. actually, i should try that next time.

i survived the '89 earthquake. bitches.

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 18 May 2010 16:49:00 +0000

yes, it's true. i survived to write this horrendous blog about nothing. (um, my subscribers have gone down by one hundred ... subscribers. i'm assuming this is a self fulfilling prophecy. also, i'm assuming that one hundred people hate me and my very cute grandmother. i'd try to win them back but they're already gone. are you guys gonna leave me? because. ... ... i don't think i would make it. I'M HANGING ON BY A THREAD!)

it's ok. i won't force you to say you don't hate me and you're not contemplating leaving as well. now, it would just be empty words. you say you won't leave me but then... one tuesday i'll check my thingy that i didn't even know existed until somebody said something about a subscriber thingy and then i researched what the hell that was and how the hell to tell if i was beating them at something i didn't really care about until i read that thing on that other site and you'll be gone.

i'm sorry.

i don't know what i did wrong.

how can i make it up to you?

did you know my name is synonymous with blow job?

hmmm? now you're thinking twice about leaving me, aren't you?

MAKE UP YOUR MINDS YOU BASTARDS!

which brings me back to my point: you're just going to throw away all that we had because i posted a picture of little becky when she was one? i mean, i've done some things in our relationship that i haven't been exactly proud of, ya know? but to just leave me on a tuesday for nothing? that's cold. cold hearted snake-ish behavior. i don't know if you caught the title of my post?

i survived the '89 earthquake.

i beat mother nature at her own game. have you ever tried to beat mother nature? did you fail? that's right you did because you're not becky. you don't have the considerable skills i have at my disposal. just this morning i was trying to edit a word document that had been "protected." you know what i did? that's fucking right, i edited the HELL outta that son of bitch. and i converted it to a PDF file WITH MY BARE MOTHER FUCKING HANDS!!!

i am an american hero, goddammit and i'd appreciate it if you showed some respect and not just LEAVE ME HERE, ALONE!!!!

ps i actually like snakes.
pps also, i have a t-shirt that says, "i survived the '89 earthquake" if you don't believe me.

UPDATE: it was some sort of error.

UPDATE two: don't just assume that we're ok now. you clearly have a lot to answer for, as you can tell.

UPDATE three: fine, i'll forgive you... but i'm not giving you a blow job.

best. grandmother. ever!

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 14 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

this is my mother's mother. i wrote a post about her but it's a complete mess. i just read it again and i wanted to shoot myself in the head. because it's so messy and dumb and stupid. grapes, now i'm all depressed. anywho, this is my cutie pumpkin pie grandma. she's the cutest cute who ever cuted. except that one time she made me clean my room and go to church. she was very clean and very churchy. just the churchiest.

my favorite grandma memory involves my mother bragging about her mother's mad ping pong skillz. my mom was so proud of her but she could never win a game against her. picture my mother, face in a teeth clenching grimace, a slight smile at the corners, obviously at level high-alert-red and at the other side of the table, my grandmother gracefully smashing her opponent, regardless of heritage. it was awesome.

balls are for chasing

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 12 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

first throw of the day, both dogs are airborne. the little 'un lives in an apartment and the big 'un is a crazy.

ears make me laugh.

candi's contribution:

pool cool down. still too cold for non-furred people.

i kill you ball!

grapes, now i'm all sticky. juuuuuust grapes.

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 10 May 2010 18:08:00 +0000

this is the third installment of becky's handwriting (check here for moresies). by now, you may be wondering if i was trained to write by a wolf. the answer to that question is, yes. yes, i was raised by wolves. what did you think? the public school system?

i wonder what's over there (quick look!)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 07 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

you guys want more flashbacks?

also, check out nikki because she's the one what got me started :)

seriously, what could it be?

happy cinco de mayo! now with more women's writes!

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 05 May 2010 08:33:00 +0000

that's ~~right~~ write i enhanced the little dealio, shine-y. feel free to tell me to get rid of it but... CINCO DE MAYO is for sombreros! also, go check out shine for all the links to great blogs dealing with women's writes!

ok, so. women's writes. i loved this idea last time and now i have to join in the fun.

i was racking my brain for what to write about and i was also taking a shower. in the shower, i was emptying my cup. i was thinking about how much i love it and how much more awesomer it is than those effin' tampons, et al. then i thought about all the things that are better but somehow we don't do them. is it because of men? is it because of women? is it because of judgement?

cloth reusable pads are better than bleached disgusting pads
silicone reusable cups are better than tampons
cloth diapers are better than disposable
breastfeeding is so much better than formula

this is like the third post i've done about the cup and i was wondering why. when i first got it i asked myself why on earth nobody had ever told me about this wonderful contraption before. i loved it. i wanted to scream it to the roof tops. i wanted to tell women in the supermarkets. i settled on telling my best friend at the time. she said, "eww."

i was taken aback because i had already explained to her how totally awesome i thought it was and we had, as best girlfriends do, talked about ovaries, periods, cramps, pee, boobies, pimples... i'm sure we'd even talked about poop. poop from the butt! however, when i dared talked about the cup she said ewww in a tone that completely shut down any further discussion of the subject. when i wrote about it, there were comments in the same vein. disgust for the cup. suggestion that the cup is gross and weird and wrong.

when my mother brought up the topic of bleeding from my vagina once a month, i was shocked to say the least. bleeding from the vagina? that's not cool. but alas it was so and i was given my two choices: tampons or disposable pads. that's. it.

it wasn't until i was in my twenties when i googled "alternatives to tampons" that i discovered there were other options. never before had anyone said anything about any other options. it was liberating when i found how much i loved that little silicone cup. my period had always been something i dreaded because of the tampons. they're so big. they're so dry. they're so yucky.

WHY HAD NOBODY EVER TOLD ME BEFORE?

because. they're "eww." i'm here to tell you, they're so not ew. there's so much judgement and ick factor in everything woman related. breastfeeding? the same ewfriend after having two daughters didn't even try to breastfeed and went so far as to say, "that's just disgusting! breastfeeding? yuck. how could anyone do that?" in this particular instance i had a response right on the tip of my tongue, so i said, "well, i guess we won't be friends when i have kids because i'm going to breastfeed the shit out of them. all the time." guess what? that shut her right up.

in conclusion, this is a problem. it's a problem with women, it's a problem with me, it's a problem with you. why are we so judgemental of other women? why do we say, "ew" when we don't understand something? tell me your stories, i will not say ew.

UPDATE: would you like to know more cup related information? you would? well then, go here for more cupfo (cup information) (see what i did there?) (i know, right?)

eHow: dogworms

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 04 May 2010 03:41:00 +0000

google keywords are an endless source of laughery that endlessly makes me laugh. i peruse them occasionally and find myself giggling at the things people type into that little googley blank. the latest thing that made me emit an un-lady like noise in the direction of my computer and also made chuck say "what?" was "dogworm." i don't know about you, but when i read that i immediately thought of a wiggly worm with a dog head. thusly:

i drew that picture, saved it drafts and then, guess what internet? my effin dog got tapeworms. there was one on her poop and i am scarred. for LIFE! because worms in my dog's butt is horrible news. when i first got this one:

she had tapeworms in her butt and i didn't know it and she slept with me and i woke up one morning to little rices all over my bed spread and i was like, "what's this? boogers? rices? HOLY SHIT IT'S WORMS!" then i threw her off the bed. and just FYI this was college so of course i had the fucken rocken 6 foot tall LOFT bed, so i threw that motherfucking dog off the bed and then, in a feat of athletic amazingment, jumped off myself, with the entire contents of the bed and threw all that shit out on the patio while crying.

later, she puked up a large amount of worms in the hallway after i had rushed her to a veterinarian hysterically screaming about worms. it was awesome. i was nineteen and uninitiated to the ways of dog butt worms. roawr.

so i guess what i'm saying is: google can give your dog butt worms.

at least i'm not the one wearing the patriotic teddy bear shirt (burrrrrn)

romeofoxtrotmike@gmail.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 08:33:00 +0000

i've got the perfect pose that says on the one hand, i'm a cute kid holding this baby's hand and other the other hand, i'm waaaaay to cool to be holding* some random baby's hand because i have better things to be doing. i think the baby is trying to run away from us. what. a. whore.

for the chief (y): here's the dog vlog, wherein the pants (aka "cavedog") rubs herself all over the carpet because SOMEone sprayed her with dog perfume. what an asshole

*previously spelled "holing" which nikki helpfully pointed out and then i killed myself. just great, nikki, juuuuust great. you killed me.

i'll go eat worms

what a furry bastard

check *this* out (you will totally get that when you start reading) (i can't even wait)

6 things about becky by chuckletonstonaroonski

dancing with my se-elf! (i'm not really sure what exactly happened) (don't worry, everyone's ok)

and boom goes the dynamite

childhood memories: cooking with the fam

flashbackfriday: waaaaay back

what's up chuck (part neuf) (that might mean "nine" in french) (we can't be positive)

flashbackfriday: my sister, a whore

wicked, pizza, crocodiles and my mother's horrid driving

flashbackfriday: sons of anarchy edition (now with more twitter)

things you should know that i probably told you but you weren't listening. you should really listen to what i say. i got alotta good stuff up here.

women in the workplace: why furry animals ruined my life

the hero and the rash: becky is an american hero

first grade flashbacks

if you'd like to claim "continuing education" you'd better have some NEW SHIT in there.

scared becky on the carousel

i survived the '89 earthquake. bitches.

best. grandmother. ever!

balls are for chasing

grapes, now i'm all sticky. juuuuuust grapes.

i wonder what's over there (quick look!)

happy cinco de mayo! now with more women's writes!

eHow: dogworms

at least i'm not the one wearing the patriotic teddy bear shirt (burrrrrn)

check this out (you will totally get that when you start reading) (i can't even wait)