Category Archives: Humor
A month ago, I received an e-mail from the people who created The Snugg, requesting a review of one of their products. I get quite a few of these request, and I don’t usually do reviews, but occasionally something peaks my interest. Remember the Shakoolie?
Now at first glance, it sounded like I would be subjecting myself to the blanket hall of shame, but once I clicked over to their website, I realized I was way off. The Snugg is a type of case for Smart Phones, Tablets, Kindles, Ipads, and other accessories.
Cool. I’m in. With the luck I have with phones, I can’t have enough back up cases.
My original case was an Otter Box Defender Series. The Otter Box will run you about $50, which in my mind is a bit steep for a piece of rubber. Sure, it’s great at rebounding my phone off of the floor several times a day without producing a scratch, but it’s horrible at not getting stuck in my hair.
I have phone-call induced ADD. This basically means that I can’t sit still and talk on the phone. Because of this condition, I constantly use the ear-shoulder clamp technique. This allows me to hold my cell phone while simultaneously bathing my cat. Naturally, I was excited to ditch my Otter Box for a while. I could feel my hair growing thicker by the second.
When I received the new Snugg case for my still-hip-in-my-mind Iphone 4, I was excited to undress my cell and try the new outfit.The case I selected for review is the Snugg Iphone 4 and 4S Real Bamboo Case. I selected this one for no other reason than because it looks tight (literally and figuratively). Plus, it was free for me (retails at $29.99). To my delight, the case looked even better in person with the brand name carved carefully into the wood on the back. It says it’s made of real Bamboo, and I believe it. I think I even saw a Panda.
Now let’s explore the functionality of this thing. The Snugg case was just that, snug. It was a little difficult to shimmy it on my phone, but once it was secure, it was very secure. There is a small patch of felt material on the inside of the case, which I assume exists as a shock absorbing mechanism. This made me feel even more secure, so I promptly dropped my phone to the ground. I’m a hardcore and devoted reviewer, what can I say? Fortunately, it withstood the test… as did my heart.
So the case looks good, protects well, and fits like a leotard on an elephant. Perfect.
Now for the not so perfect.
The Snugg case makes it somewhat difficult to access your side volume buttons and top lock button but not noticeably enough to really cause extreme inconvenience. However, I did run into some trouble with the charging port. With the case on, the original Iphone charger fits conveniently into the port , but I own an off-brand charger which did not work with this case. I was forced to remove the bottom half of the case every time I needed to charge my phone.
This shortcoming caused me to lose approximately 14 seconds of my life over the span of a week that I used the case. The things I could do with 14 seconds in week! Furthermore, at the end of my trial usage, as I was vigorously trying to remove the bottom portion of the case for charging, that very piece actually broke off. Losing 14 seconds of my life apparently makes me too vigorous. To be fair, I had been drinking.
Since the case was already ruined in my mind, I decided to do a final experiment to test the durability of the wood. As I bent the case and applied pressure, it broke further. See evidence below.
Ultimately, I really loved the look and feel of this case, and the compliments I was getting about my fuller hair. The positives of The Snugg definitely outweighed the negatives… until it broke. If The Snugg can find a way to make this case more durable, it is definitely a keeper that I would be willing to buy. The Snugg also has competitive prices in comparison with Otter Box and a huge variety to chose from.
Now you know what a Snugg is. See you next time Flysters!
- Review: Snugg iPad mini Ultra Slim Bluetooth Keyboard Case (automatedhome.co.uk)
- The Snugg iPad Executive Case Review (johnchow.com)
- The Snugg iPad 4 Executive Case Cover and Flip Stand – Stylish and Functional Protection for Your iPad (breastfeedingmums.typepad.com)
I’m not really one to make rules for myself. I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of gal. I’ll try almost anything once, and I rarely freak if a risk I take doesn’t end in my favor. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t certain standards by which I live. Let me explain.
I don’t let just anyone or anything into my bedroom. My bed is a cone of trust. You don’t get to enter it, especially with me, unless I know that you won’t betray me. It’s a Becca law that I have always honored.
This being said, something has happened to this law. I have broken it.
You see, it has turned cold here. It’s wet, lonely, and miserably freezing. I find myself perpetually squatted by a cheap space heater, while the oven is on broil and gaping open. Jack has begun to look at me like I’m some sort of weak, pathetic, cold-blooded varmint. I’ve also come to despise my bed. While the blankets surround me with warmth, that warmth stops conveniently above my waist. I need to regain feeling. I need to feel something in my toes again, if you know what I mean.
I just can’t take it anymore.
I did something. I invited strange company under my covers. I needed to wake up engulfed, even if I was only pretending. I wanted to forget the cold sting in my heels, even if it was just for one night.
I slept with socks.
I let them encompass my feet all night long. They rode up and down my ankles shamelessly all night, waking me in agony and bliss all at the same time. I felt violated and wrong but so utterly warm. At one point, I think I even broke a sweat.
It all started a week ago when I accidentally fell asleep with them on. I wasn’t something I meant to do. It was not planned. When I woke up, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was also extremely itchy, which intensified the churn in my tummy. Guilt set in quickly as I violently kicked the socks from my feet.
As the fuzzy intruders fell to the floor, I felt relief… until the next night.
Again, I began drifting off to sleep when I briefly awoke to glance down towards the foot of my bed. There they were again, yet I did nothing to say no. I needed them. I wanted them. And as morning approached, I found myself in the same tornado of sheets and blankets, angrily wrestling the smothering socks off of my feet.
At first, it was just an affair that I allowed to happen. It was purely physical. But somewhere in the whirlwind affair, I began to feel attached. Like they were a part of me. I know this, because I just realized that they are still on my feet as I sit here typing this.
Do they feel the same way? Probably not. If anyone needs me, I’ll be doing the walk of shame…
In my socks.
I’ve also started a weird relationship with a onesie. Check it out on Beccatube here or in the sidebar. I’m beyond help.
- If you wear socks to bed, you are probably a lunatic (bigasschuck.wordpress.com)
- Time to Bundle Up – Part 2 (socks) (solefulmamas.com)
- Finding a pair (arosekelly.wordpress.com)
I’ve never tried to grow a 'Stache before, so I had to do a quick Google search to make sure I was doing it right:
Step 1.) Don't shave.
I was surprised at how easy it is, as you can see in the first photo! And since it's that easy, and because of what it represents, I think it would be cool if you tossed your razor in the garbage and sat on your hands for the next couple of weeks, Chia Guy!
Do you enjoy raising awareness for Men's Health? Do you see the mustache as the greatest facial hair design in the world? Did you miss Blogger Interactive 2013? Would you like to be included in all of this blogger love? If you answered yes to all of these questions, boy do I have a giveaway for you!
If you've never heard of it, Movember is an annual event which encourages people to grow mustaches to help raises funds and awareness for men's health issues. Last year Le Clown set up a Bloggers for Movember campaign which rallied bloggers to support the cause. It was a huge success, and one that Becca from 25toFly is repeating this year.
Last year was an incredible year in the blogging world. Almighty Le Clown put together Bloggers for Movember which brought bloggers together for an amazing cause and allowed us to share our experiences with men’s health issues while supporting the worldwide movement that is Movember. It was also my very first big blogging collaboration, which connected me with a slew of incredible people and bloggers and gave me the motivation and confidence to dive into so many other projects.
So this year, I am taking the reigns of Blogger for Movember. I have a very important story I’d like to tell about the importance of muscling through those screenings and check ups, but for today, the official 1st day of Movember, I’d like to start by handling a few orders of business.
1. The new Bloggers for Movember 2013 team is set up and ready to go. All you need to do to join in on the campaign is visit the official team page, click join, and follow the instructions. You are now an official member of a special team of bloggers that are out to make the world a little better by creating awareness for men’s health issues. You don’t have to donate, but of course it is encouraged!
2. Shave it all off! If you haven’t done so already, it’s time to bust out your sharpest razor and revert back to your baby face. Mustache growing contests are yet another way to have some fun and support the cause. If you can’t grow a Mo, slap on a fake one (see aforementioned Jackstache). Keeping the world up to date on your lip brow is a great way to direct people to join us all in the glory of Movember, so keep the pictures coming. Post updates on your blog, Facebook, and Twitter! And be sure to submit them to the BFM Facebook page by e-mailing me at Cord.Rebecca@gmail.com. Be sure to Like the Facebook page while you are at it!
3. We need more than team members and donations. We need stories. We need to offer what we do best. We need to write. One of the most amazing things about BFM 2012 was how many people had something to share in regards to their experiences with men’s health in general, prostate and testicular cancer, mental heath, and much more. I know there are more people out there who’s stories could possibly help save someone’s life. So let’s get to sharing! If you have a post you would like to dedicate to BFM 2013, please send the link to me at Cord.Rebecca@gmail.com so that I can share it on the BFM Facebook page and in update posts right here on 25toFly.
November will be dedicated to nothing but BFM 2013 here on 25toFly. Let’s do this MoBros and MoSistas! I’m ready to blow this year’s campaign out of the water. If you would like to join me and this years behind the scenes team, or have any ideas regarding the campaign, please let me know in the comments or by e-mail.
It kind of felt like learning to walk again when I left. I felt exhilarated by my new-found separation from such a shaping relationship and simultaneously a little lost. The good kind of lost. The kind of lost that makes you feel like you are teaching yourself something new. Sure, I had pangs of homesickness, because he was what I considered home for as long as I could remember. But missing familiarity eventually turned into embracing change.
I met new people. I dabbled in new relationships. At first, it felt right. Like making an A on a test makes you feel right. Which felt good. New relationships were accomplishments in moving on, but not much more than that. After all, GPAs don’t matter much in the scheme of life. Nonetheless, the new relationships were fun and easy. I could feign attachment without skipping a beat of my own agenda. I almost fooled myself into thinking I was anything but detached. I liked it that way.
I strategically and forcefully changed all of my radio stations; a subconscious attempt at moving on. It was working splendidly until DJ Heavy Metal decided to throw in a little Tim McGraw for shits and giggles. My new guy quickly reached out at the exact moment as me… only he was reaching out to turn the station, and I was reaching out to turn up the volume. “I never liked country,” he said.
As I looked around, it was as if everything suspended for a brief moment, and in that moment, nothing looked right. Something shattered in me, and I immediately thought of him.
After that, I began to shell up even more. I would steam up the bathroom to mimic the humidity we used to bask in. I would pour a little too much on the rocks. I started cooking those savory meals again, and found myself seeking solace in my headphones, blasting nothing but country. I tried to transfer all of the things I loved about him, into my new relationships.
I’ll never forget the moment we reunited. The radio must have been on our side, because the perfect songs trickled in as we sat on the tailgate together in the damp air. I didn’t say anything, I just breathed him in. I never believed in the saying, “you never know what you have until its gone,” just as I never liked Country. But sometimes you just have to admit you were wrong. And that’s why I went back.
I missed you, Louisiana.
This two part post was inspired by A New Orleans Love Story by Joey Albanese about New Orleans.
The one that got away. Do we all experience it? That one ex that you didn’t know completed you until you left?
The longest relationship I have ever had took years to build and only two to demolish. All of the memories, the places, and the laughs. Our relationship was fickle and tumultuous, but extremely passionate. We would bitch endlessly over the thermostat one minute and then bask in the balmy humidity the next. We loved to savor our food together and never shamed each other for drinking a little too much. Occasionally, I would grow tired of lazy ways and become jealous of friends that were driven away, but then the radio would come on. Everything was butter. I never liked Country. The songs never sounded good with anyone else.
You see he wasn’t like anyone. He was one of a kind. And not in the cliché kind of way that people might describe a cheap pendant on QVC. He owned the phrase one of a kind, and he knew it despite the fact that I sometimes didn’t.
He loved the water, and even looked great covered in moss. When I was in his presence I felt I belonged to something special. We were our own little secret club. It’s weird though, because we never really had a honeymoon phase. As long as I could remember we had always just been together. There was no one before him.
Regardless, I knew ultimately something would happen to our smooth cruising. We eventually began to take each other for granted. This would be the beginning of the end. The more possessive and predictable he became, the more indifferent and unimpressed I was. I convinced myself that his simple ways were holding me back.
Eventually, I started refusing to go out on the water. The special meals we cooked tasted bland, as if my taste buds had become tired of the repetition. We didn’t drink together anymore, but I drank alone. I had built up so much resentment, though he really hadn’t done anything wrong. Then my eyes began to wander. I would leave town for weeks and see other people. I didn’t even try to hide it. Funny thing is, he must have known but didn’t seem to care. Maybe he secretly knew I was too far gone. He was intuitive like that. And one day, sure enough, I was gone. For good.
Blogger Interactive is next weekend! I can’t wait to meet everyone who is coming. You can keep up with all the festivities by following us on Twitter, Facebook, and now Instagram (@bloggerinteractive)! Be sure to use the hashtag #BI2013 for posting!