Weekend Winks – Tailgates, Twins and Louis Vuitton

Hawkeye

Still Hawkeyes at heart.

A three day holiday weekend meant it was time to high tail it up to Iowa in order to see the twins, catch a little college football and finish up a birthday celebration.

These two.

Princess and Prince B awaiting my appearance.

Being that we arrived in the wee hours of Saturday morning, 8am tailgating time came a tad early for me. But I was able to rally with a glass of vodka mixed with everyone’s favorite…Capri Sun.

Kid concoction

Can you tell my friends have kids?

Excited to be in Iowa City for the first game of football season, I met up with my college bestie, Whitney Lover  (who has a once-was-white-but-now-it’s-yellow-because-it’s-so-old Whitney Houston t-shirt from the “Greatest Love of All” days that she still sports) and couldn’t wait to get my hands on her little Lady E.

Saturday morning greeting.

One of us is bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Then we headed to see the action at the tailgates with 70,000 of our closest buddies.

Tailgate

Truth.

When it comes to Whitney Lover and myself, we do nothing but up the ante of classiness wherever we go.

Uping the class ante wherever we go.

Classing up the joint with our plastic grocery bag cooler.

Feed me.

Classing it up with food choices…a foot long corn dog and ribeye on a stick.

Nuttious treats.

As well as keeping it nutricious with our classy game day picnic spread.

Watching our Iowa Hawkeyes take in a big W was a fabulous way to kick-off the football season.

But want to know what was more fabulous?

Seeing my boyfriend, Herky the Hawk roaming the streets as I stalked followed him to beg, plead ask for a photo together.  He kindly obliged my request by driving as fast as he could down the street as I tried to throw myself in front of his golf cart.

Herky!

Pretty sure Herky’s  checking my ass out, right? True love.

Naturally a victorious football team AND running into my mascot boy toy called for celebratory bubbles.

Victories taste so good.

Victories taste so good.

The rest of the weekend required partying for my ma’s birthday, as the twins couldn’t be in Nashville on her actual big day. Being that this was a milestone, we brought out the big guns with friends and family joining in on one mother of a gift.

Ooh, really?

Yep. It’s really what the box says it is.

A Louis Vuitton will now be housed among my mama’s other accessories.

Still celerbating that bday

A gift worth celebrating!

And mom had a wee bit of trouble taking her new bag back to Nashville, as Princess B wasn’t about it let it out of her sight.

Yep. She's for sure my niece.

Yep. She’s for sure my niece.

Capping the holiday weekend out with one last cocktail took all of these ingredients…

Adios.

An Adios Motherfucker is an appropriate way to wave goodbye to summer, yes?

Cheers!

We sure thought so.

Adios!

CBXB

CBXB!

Game Day Gussy Up

Is it possible to look fabulous during football season while waving a foam finger in the air?

Foam finger fail.

Fail at fabulousness.

Ever since I was a kid, wearing college colors for game day has been tradition.

Sporting my dad's college jersey. Yes. He was a football playing stud who also was a cheerleader.

Sporting my dad’s college jersey. Yes, he was a football playing stud who also was a cheerleader. Yes, he will sign an autograph for you.

Now that I’m an Iowa Hawkeye girl (that’s Big Ten Country for you non-sports folks – or anyone that has ever misidentified Iowa as the Potato State, addressed my beloved team as the Iowa Buckeyes or thought Kevin Costner lived there in a magic corn field of dreams) in a Nashville world, I always support my college alma mater while cheering hundreds of miles away.

Wearing my pride on my…

Skirts...

…skirt…

...sequins...

…sequins…

...and sweater.

…and sweater.

But why stop at typical fan wear that anyone can sport? If you’re really a team supporter you’ll be sure to accessorize your head to toe outfit.

Whole lotta Hawk.

With flags.

With rings.

With rings.

Gaudy earrings

With gaudy football earrings.

And let’s not forget the importance of matching our cocktails to our team of choice.

And

Appropriately holds one bottle of wine.

We live, breathe and sleep by our black and gold when it comes to college football season.

Taking it to the limits

Taking true fandom  fabulousness to the limits.

Not wanting anyone to feel left out, the twins are even adorned with adorable Hawkeye gear.

Miniature Herkys.

It’s all fun and football games with Prince B and Princess B.

Being a lady (I use that term loosely) that takes any chance to celebrate, today I’m all gussied up in my finest black and gold threads in honor of College Colors Day (it’s seriously a day supported by The Collegiate Licensing Company).

No, we're not Southern Missisippi.

A gal in need of a Hawkeye throne.

And I wouldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t dress my nails up with matching gaudy polish.

Manicured

Team colored talons.

As for a foam finger, I’ve made a minor substitution in order to keep my family’s moonshine touchdown tradition alive this season.

The end all, be all importance of game day.

Moonshine shots with every seven points scored.

Shots with every seven points scored.

Who needs a foam finger with Hawkeye moonshine?

Now go get your game day gussy up on!

CBXB

CBXB!

Pigskin Sushi

Trashy tailgating treat at its finest.

Trashy tailgating treat at its finest.

There’s nothing my family does better than snack and celebrate, so with the college football season kick-off this weekend, we already have our game faces on with what appetizers to draft for our game day spread. And there’s no fumbling when it comes to making one of our finest treats, Pigskin Sushi.

Cheers to football season finally being here!

A big moonshine cheers to football season finally being here!

This non-threatening Midwestern version of sushi is a crowd pleasing hit at any tailgate whether you’re cheering for your fave college team….

On Iowa!

Yes, the Big Ten is a conference in college football.

…or you’re trying to impress fellow NFL fans.

Titan Up!

And yes, the Tennessee Titans still have fans even after dismal seasons.

This is my trashy version of sushi that requires three ingredients, five minutes of prep and dirties no dishes (perfect for kitchen lovers like me).

Ingredients:

Ingredients

Baby dill pickles, one block of cream cheese and thick-sliced, cooked ham. Total cost – $7.00.

Remove one piece of the cooked ham and place on a paper towel.

Spread room temperature cream cheese over the ham.

Rollin'

Place dill pickle at one end of the ham and roll up.

Slice

Slice the pickle-in-a-blanket to your desired size.

Trashy tailgating treat at its finest.

And voila! White trash sushi.

This low carb, gluten-free delicatessen will stand out among the typical tailgating treats.

hit it

A bright beacon of shining food among traditional football snacks.

And not only is Pigskin Sushi cheap and easy (no I’m not referring to myself), it washes down with any cocktail you choose on game day.

Skinny Pirates for the Hawkeye.

Skinny Pirates for this Hawkeye.

In my book, that’s a touchdown!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Singing in the Rain

Band rehearsal, football, cocktails and pool time are the perfect combo to a relaxing Nashville weekend.

Titan Up

Titan Up!

Friday night rehearsal for No Name Band (nope…still no name) went smashingly once I arrived. (Master of directions I am not. So after two hours in a car, feeling like I was in BFE, this classy chick had to pull over and take a leak, as there were no buildings with running water in sight. But I finally found my mates – with an empty bladder).

Cocktails, of course.

Cocktails for the directionally challenged, please.

Sing!

The worst band selfie ever.

Saturday was meant to be spent at the pool but a rainstorm thwarted my attempts. Instead, we sat out on the balcony as the thunder rolled and while you all think Ted is a big, fat, high maintenance bitch (which, let’s be honest – he is) this little fur ball is not afraid of sounds from the sky.

What the who?

What the what? Who cares. Pet me.

But New Cat on the other hand thinks the storm is coming just for him and if he isn’t underneath the bed, he is up under my chinny chin chin.

New Cat Thunderstruck

Thunderstruck pussy.

After watching my Tennessee Titans score a win (I know, I know it’s just pre-season but still), this hot pink mess greeted my arrival home from the bar.

Feather football.

Feather football played by one.

Speaking of non-traditional football, my always snazzy friend L-Dawg found these heels of her fave college team. While I am not a person who will ever chant SEC!-SEC!-SEC! these heels are a must have.  Although I can’t find any bedazzled Iowa Hawkeye heels online. Guess it will be my next ultra classy DIY project.

Football FMP

So appropriate for galloping around a stadium.

Sunday sunny Sunday was complete with a cool pool, cocktails, catching up on reading and naps (you know, 20 minutes every hour).

Sunny Sunday!

Summer fun wind down.

And as I was basking in the sun, the Iowa twins were busy kicking up a storm when they heard Auntie CBXB will be in town to see them next weekend.

perfect 10

Prince B, reminding me he’s a perfect ten.

And she knows it.

And Princess B knowing she’s a perfect ten.

Now all I have to do is decide which size of hot dog to bring to the Iowa tailgate….

Six or eight inch??

Six or eight inches?

Cheers to a fabulous week!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

How to Piss With Your Pussy

You know you’re a crazy cat lady when you can’t even take a piss without your fur ball in your face.

Dignity in shreds.

Dignity in shreds.

Whenever I come home, I’m greeted by the fluffy little love of my life, Ted and, ever since January the stray we took in, New Cat (Yep – that’s still his name. And yep – the pharmacist still asks about him when I pick up my own prescriptions).

You're home. Now choose.

Good, your home. Now choose.

While Tedstar is used to being my one and only, I tried to make my welcome home a threesome.

Three is definitely a crowd.

Three is definitely a crowd.

So now I’ve resorted to picking up one pussy at a time. Ted is coddled first while New Cat patiently meows as if his claws were being removed with tweezers, having to watch his bro getting some lovin’ before him.

Baby got back.

Always first runner up.

Racing home one day, fearful I might wet my pants before entering my mini manse, I pranced past my pussies at the front door to alleviate my bladder. This was a jeans-zipper-down-from-the-car-carry-your-purse-into-the-bathroom kind of emergency.

Cat Bathroom

And wouldn’t you know, New Cat seized this opportunity to be the first one to mark his territory while I sat on the toilet.

Finally the first to get love.

Finally! The first to get affection.

Mr. Tuxedo went from mauling my chest to manhandling my face.

Toilet kisses

Toilet kisses are just as romantic as they sound.

Then NC decided to try and slip me tongue. I’m his mother and although we live in the South, not appropriate.

Turned into French kisses

This pussy apparently has an Oedipus Rex complex.

Beyond ridiculousl

Madness. Sheer madness.

I shoved New Cat to the ground as I was trying to finish my business and but this little bitch wasn’t taking no for an answer and jumped up into my lap, quickly pretending to be asleep.

Fucking seriously.

Fucking seriously.

In the 27 seconds in which this shit show took place, I realized the magnitude of crazy I’d just achieved.

I was sitting on a toilet.

With a cat molesting me.

While taking a piss.

And I was taking pictures.

Visualizing my headstone..."Cat lady

Taking cray cray cat lady to new heights.

Realizing the seriousness of the situation Mr. Bear came to my rescue, shooing New New off of my lap and into a corner.

GET OUT!

Get the hell out.

Not wanting the action to stop, New Cat zoned in on Ted to continue the affection fest.

Brotherly loved. Forced.

Forced brotherly love.

It’s a good thing we live in the South.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

The Dumb to My Dumber

Folks often tell me that I act like my aunt Crazy Pants. We could be known as Thelma and Louise (but we’re not as cool and fabulous – we wouldn’t drive off a cliff on purpose, we’d do it because we were lost and missed a turn) although we more often times resemble Lucy and Ethel (on our best days) but in reality we can most identify with Dumb and Dumber.

Crazy!

Crazy times two.

Of all of the things we have in common, we share a love of Jell-O shots which are a staple at every family gathering (classy, I know) and party I throw.

Jello Love

Jell-O shots = Love

I mean we really love the spiked gelatin.

oving Jell-O maybe a little too much.

Like really, really, really love.

Down the hatch. How many?

Especially with whipped cream.

Our consumption of Jell-O shots makes us both more limber (until we wake up the next morning and can’t move).

Jell-O makes us limber

Who doesn’t do a leg lift after a bit of J-E-L-L-O?

Hey-o! Almost to the toes!

Hey-o! Jell-O makes me stretch almost to my toes!

However, I do not ever try to do tricks with my shots of liquor. There’s too much risk that it won’t make it to my mouth, which in my mind would be a travesty.

She can shoot Jell-O with no hands!

She can shoot Jell-O with no hands!

Or can she?

But really, she can’t.

Can't. Stop. Laughing. At. Her. Or, I mean with. WITH HER.

Can’t. stop. laughing. at. Aunt Crazy Pants. Errr, I mean with. Laughing WITH HER.

Upon making sure that whipped cream was ground into my carpet (thus I will not be getting my deposit back), Aunt Crazy Pants decided to go on a path of destruction in my mini manse by taking her tipsy ass into my beloved dressing room.

Fave room in my mini manse...

What CBXB does with extra bedrooms.

My dressing room is home to my two shoe towers (and no, I still don’t have too many shoes Dad and yes folks, I do wear all of them).

Tower of Shoes

Wall of bliss.

Admiring my collection

Even Ted admires my collection daily.

All was well in my closet kingdom until this tiny bull walked into my china shop and decided to trip into one of my towers that was bolted to the wall. The shelving quickly turned into a leaning tower of shoes, as it had about six inches in between the wall and the back of the racks.

Bag of Crazy

Apparently, the whipped cream on her glasses obstructed her view.

We then had to call in Camo during our girls night in to put a temporary band aid on the problem so we wouldn’t be making any trips to the emergency room with stories of shoe boxes falling onto our heads.

Closet hero

Closet hero.

Saving the Closet

I’m a big help, I know.

Crazy Pants can kiss my ass.

Think HGTV will come calling due to my mad holding skills?

When Camo was rewarded with a beer, Aunt Crazy Pants tried to show her gratitude by mauling him.

Mauling. Part 1.

Manhandling, Part 1.

Mauling Part 2.

Manhandling Part 2.

Make it stop. No seriously, make it stop.

Make the manhandling stop. No seriously, make it stop. Somebody muzzle her.

L-Dawg came in to save the the day (and Camo’s dignity) by wrangling Crazy Pants with a dish towel.

L-Dawg wrangled Crazy Pants

Making sure no more Jell-O shots spill and CP stays in her seat.

For the next eight minutes, all was good in my mini manse hood until this happened….

Down the hatch.

Down the Crazy Pant hatch.

There was no turning back once she was out of Jell-O shots, so we put a boa on her and made her dance (and we have videos to prove it).

After the finishing shots, there was no wrangling her. So we put a boa on and made her dance.

Dumb and Dumber at our dancing finest.

I’m happy to report that the mini manse is still standing. But I’m certain that’s due to the fact that Aunt Crazy Pants went home.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Surprise Party Style

Jell-O shots, honky tonkin’ and birthday celebrations make for one fabulous Nashville weekend.

Capturing all of the honky tonk best.

Capturing all of the honky tonk best.

My mama’s birthday was this past weekend and my Aunt Crazy Pants was top secretly flying in from Iowa as a surprise. Being that it was late in the evening on Thursday night and the fact that her flights were all on time, I didn’t think twice about heading to the airport in the classiest threads in my closet.

My evening finest.

My evening finest.

When luggage didn’t make the flight, I realized I would have to grace the airport with an appearance and I got to proudly march through baggage claim in my most subtle t-shirt and see through stretch pants.

Luggage

Aunt Crazy Pants was happy to see me. The airport staff, not so much.

On Friday Ted anxiously helped with the decorating as he’s an old party pro, being that I’m his mama. New Cat was carefully taking pointers while being sure to rest his bowling ball sized belly near the front window, unable to lift a paw to help.

Decorating helpers

Party on, Ted.

Done and done!

Done and done!

Once the party prep was complete, there was only one thing left to do – get the celebration started properly.

Party On!

It’s five o’clock somewhere…just not in Nashville.

After a few happy shots, we needed to hide Aunt Crazy Pants quietly.

Quiet in the mini manse!

Silence in the mini manse!

So we put her on a stool in the corner of my bathroom. I’m nothing if not a gracious host.

HIde out.

Hide out.

Turns out Mama CBXB had zero clue any shenanigans were in the making and the surprise went off without a hitch.

Surprise!

Gotcha!

Our fabulous foursome of ladies was complete with the entrance of L-Dawg and we started to party like classy dames….which didn’t last long.

Fun Crew

Fun crew.

The inner rock stars came out about 19 minutes into the evening….

Guitar hero.

Guitar hero.

Aunt Crazy Pants decided to showcase her abilities to take Jell-O shots off of her own chest…

Jell-O shots with no hands.

No handed Jell-O bandit.

And Camo had to be called later in the night, as my aunt decided to try and single-handedly destroy my closet after copious amounts of spiked gelatin.

Camo made an appearance to save my closet's life.

Camo made an appearance to save my closet’s life.

All in all a fun way to spend a Friday night.

Cheers to an evening fulfilled!

Cheers to an evening fulfilled!

Saturday greeted us with bottomless mimosas and some girl talk for breakfast.

Table talk.

Table talk with Ted.

After spending the entire day in our pajamas, it was time to get gussied up and head downtown to honky tonk.

Gussied in our giddy ups.

Adult women in matching giddy ups are beyond fabulous, right? RIGHT?

My 6’4″ dad drives a vehicle the size of a clown car but thankfully all of our curvaceousness fit into the backseat with no problems.

Fred Flintstone mobile.

Fred Flintstone’s car is bigger. Just sayin’.

As soon as we hit Roberts Western World, it was time for jazz hands to come out and play.

Jazz handing it like it's my job.

We’re heeeeeeere! You know, the quiet ones in the corner booth.

I worked off all of my alcohol intake by sweating it out on the dance floor like it was my job with my new friend Gramps.

My new fave Grandpa.

Dancing with the Stars FAIL.

Aunt Crazy Pants had a much better time being twirled around by her own personal Fred Astaire.

Cray Pants

Giving me and Gramps a run for our dancing money.

There’s nothing less annoying than the dancing crew who takes endless selfies of themselves, in hopes one photo will capture all of the fun taking place.

Holla!

We look nuts and my mom is headless but we’re living it up.

Sunday morning came all too soon and my poor pussies were pooped from all of the weekend late night festivities.

Party pooped

Looking just how I felt…from all of the dancing.

Prince and the pillow.

His Royal Highness with my pillow, refusing to move for placement of my head.

And while we cat napped the rest of the weekend away, the three days of celebrating were well worth the headache(s), liver dehydration and caloric overload.

Fun festive

Two waters, please.

Here’s hoping your week is off to a fabulous start!

CBXB

CBXB!