Beef Stick Queen

Two years ago, I became a home owner, and in that time, I have not particularly taken to home ownership and the maintenance it requires. TikTok appears to have picked up on this fact, filling my algorithm with contractors spanning the ages, measurable by how tattooed their arms may be. Part of me wonders if that has to do with that axe guy that keeps appearing in my feed, bearing in mind the fact I don’t even own one axe, let alone enough to warrant being shown reviews.

All this is to say that I fear my house is going to go up in flame due to the sworn enemy of linen and toes: lint. Everyday I’m seeing a new guy cleaning his dryer vent, attaching a drill to a brush, and putting their own spin on it. Seeing as it never really crossed my mind to do this (I clean my lint trap after each load, thank you very much), I figured I would take a look. Two weeks prior I replaced my furnace filter and felt like flying afterward, so who knows what wonders could wait me.

This is when I realized my vent wasn’t even fully connected and was just blowing freely into my basement. Should I have recognized this when I started to realize the top of my dryer was slowly getting covered in lint? Sure. But that was then and this is now, so there’s no point in dwelling.

Earlier today I got a screamin’ deal on a shop vac at Ace Hardware courtesy of a sale, Ace Rewards membership, and an additional $10 voucher (this is not an ad). Together, we made our way to the basement to tackle the task at hand. I also purchased one of those brush kits for this very reason but I’d already gotten in a fight with a metal shelf earlier today and assuming I’ve just been unloading lint into the subterranean aether, I decided we’re just putting this shit back together. Was it satisfying? No. Do I feel accomplished? Not really. Are there significantly less cobwebs in the cellar? Sure are!

Righteous Felon Craft Jerky O.G. Hickory Savory and Smoky Beef Stick

Before I made my way downstairs, I took in the bowl of beef sticks currently sitting on my dining room table. I have long told about how food is my favorite gift (3 pounds of smoked fish, a cooler of venison, housewarming ribeyes, Survivor snacks) and a first date brought me a bevy of beef sticks. I had eaten one prior–a flavor other than original–and thought there no better way to prepare for my dryer drive by than a touch of protein with limited sugar.

First thing’s first: the name of this stick is too fucking long. You might argue there’s a brand, a flavor name, and a product description, and you’d be right, but it’s still too many words that should be cut in half. Don’t get me started on the American Horror Story font featured in the logo (yes, I know it’s a classic art deco font, but it’s 2025 and in today’s day and age, history means nothing). But this isn’t a branding blog, it’s pure beef sticks, baby, so let’s get to what matters.

RF clearly thinks highly of its customers. Featuring an ez-peel style packaging, it does not call attention to it on the front, and I appreciate they assume their buyers can figure out the mechanics without a struggle. Upon opening, a classic beefy scent hits the air, but the stick sure does look slick. That’s not really going to give me any pause, but its smooth appearance separates it from the more wrinkled, longer cured varieties.

At first bite, I get no snap. The ingredients assure me the casing is collagen but it isn’t entirely cohesive with the stick itself. Flavorwise, it’s smoky, but not TOO smoky which is a very real thing for a different time. The ingredients tell me there is cherry and ground clove involved, very oh-la-la, but I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that without reading.

The biggest shock to me was how dry the final product is. Based on what I saw when opening the packaging, I was expecting a fatty little treat and instead it was not that. The front of the packages waxes poetic with “no” claims and “100% beef raised with no antibiotics and no hormones,” which, sure. 9g of protein is standard for a stick this size and 1g sugar is a clever way of saying, “no Slim Jims here, brother” Overall, it was fine. I didn’t love it, but I wasn’t offended, and I duct-taped my duct back together with no hanger. I preferred the Habanero variety I had last week, but ultimately this was inoffensive, decently flavored, and served its purpose. That goes to say: I feel as strongly about this beef stick as I feel about owning a house which is not very strong at all.