Weekend Winks – Saucy Scaredy Cat and Civic Duty

There’s a fucking saying, “do one thing every day that scares you”… and I’ve always thought it was pretty silly.

Go on a bungee jump? Try chugging a gallon of milk? Jogging instead of walking?

Well folks, I abided by the often used “scare you” quote and ran with it over the weekend (because my friend M. Star made forced coerced asked me too nicely).

Toilet paper on my sparkly pink wedge scares me.

What also scares the fuck out of me is how fast my Iowa twins are sprouting.

Road trip!

Prince B and Princess B were fortunate enough to score tickets to Kids Bop through their parents, thus were escorted to Minneapolis for the big show. This being their first pop rock concert, they needed to fit the part.

Princes B channeled Auntie CBXB in the non-permament pink haired department.

All spray, no stay.

Pop star ready.

What concert goer is complete without signs to hold up while fawning and screaming over the Kid Bop performers?

Already concert going pros.

You know what else is scary? Voodoo got married and I want her wedding ring so badly that I may chop off her finger.

Scary

Voodoo is now a +2.

Cheers to your married years!

Class Acts – First Mate, Voodoo, Bird Lady, Boob and yours truly.

Behind the scenes assy.

It’s also so scary to not watch Hawkeye football games with Dada CBXB because, it’s what we do. Well, what Dada CBXB and I do. Sister CBXB lives roughly 25 miles from the stadium and still, we get texts on game day like…

Because Voodoo’s marital celebration of bliss was in the middle of the Iowa vs. Indiana game, I arrived armed and ready for our Family Tradition shots. This week, we made an exception to do a winning (in lieu of an every touchdown) shot together, which may have been a blessing in disguise because the Hawks won 42-17.

W-I-N shot. With help from Boob and First Mate.

Until next week.

While I was basking in Voodoo’s marital bliss and a Hawkeyes win, the twins were reveling in the first snowfall on Sunday.

The first taste of snow.

Second taste of snow.

While the twins were busy avoiding yellow snow, I was mustering up energy on Sunday morning, trying to remember why in the hell I told one of my besties, M.Star that I would go to my first ever spin class AND then go canvassing. Plus, it was a dreary, rainy day.

Any pussy care to join? Fuck off, we’re good.

M.Star picked me up in her carriage and off to spin class we went. I was mostly worried about having to ice down my crotch afterward.

Will I ever be able to walk again?

A few things happened during class:

  • I could not stop staring at myself in the dimly lit room’s mirrors because my cleavage is off the chains due to Rapegate weight gain.
  • My foot came out of my shoe that is locked into the bike when I tried to increase the resistance on the bike. Body was obviously saying DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.
  • I came in second to last in overall standings after 45 minutes. Bright side? I beat somebody!

Best part is, this was a mimosa ride.

No mimosa left behind.

M.Star then had asked me to go canvassing with her. I thought she meant to the local gay bar, Canvass and was all “hells yeah!” but what she really meant was “let’s go knock on stranger’s doors and tell them they should go vote.”

Plied with alcohol, anything is possible!

We stopped at the local office for a quick run down of what to and what not to say (i.e. I was forbidden to say “Marsha Blackburn is a cunt.” But I was allowed to say, “you should go vote – here’s where you can even vote early.”) It was deemed that M.Star would be our spokesperson and I would be her sidekick along with our mascot, Mabel.

Would you open your door for us?

I dug deep. Into a bottle of wine. And it worked. Civic duty here I am.

A very convincing duo, indeed. Now go get your ass to the polls. NOW.

Back at the mini manse, I was mobbed by the very non-scary Pussy Posse, easing my weekend fears away.

I think I’m gonna take a breather from doing something ever day that scares me. Unless I’m plied with alcohol. Then, I’m pretty fucking fearless.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

They Call Me Captain

It’s funny how a nickname can commence.

CBXB as Captain.

The Captain.

I’m sure my parent’s hearts burst with pride knowing that I’ve obtained a substitute moniker that refers to my favorite rum, Captain Morgan.

Possible love of my life.

The spicy love of my life – other than Ted, of course.

I’m not sure the exact moment I fell head over heels for Captain but when the mix of this piquant rum and Diet Coke crossed my lips for the first time, the love of a Skinny Pirate was born and I’ve had one in hand almost ever since.

Double down

Documenting my liquid affection.

You see, Skinny Pirates are just the perfect accompaniment to any life situation…

Sneaky sneak.

Sneaky sneak time movie fun.

Keeping me cool in the pool

Keeping me cool in the sun.

Go Hawks

Cheering me through Iowa Hawkeyes game days like it’s my religion.

Holiday tradition

Creating Griswold family style traditions.

Keep you cool

Quenching my thirst after work outs.

Puts the ho in my down at country shows

Putting the ho in my down at country shows.

Fancy Captain

Following me from fancy places…

fancy place to low class spaces

…. to low class spaces.

Double fist, so don't leave out

Even when I try to cheat, Captain just can’t be beat.

Easily swallowed through a sippy cup.

Easily swallowed through a sippy cup.

Holiday helper

Skinny Pirates also help loosen the holidays up.

No hands

No hands needed to drink this libation.

Captain helps me sparkle

And my Captain keeps me sparkling on every occassion.

Good time Captain

There when I celebrate small life successes.

Mani

An inspiration for making Mani Mondays a bit excessive.

Selfie helper

Always keeping me company at the bar.

So what if my dream boat is a fake pirate?

So what if my main squeeze comes from a glass jar?

As you can see, my favorite libation is never far from my reach and Captain is suitable in addressing me.

The Captain

In fashion with Captain.

As my favorite pirate says, “To live, love and loot!”

You’d better cheers with me or this Captain will give you the boot.
CBXB

CBXB!

 

Skinny Skull

A tasty treat for all of the ghouls who haunt the hour of happy!

The Skinny Skull.

This cocktail began when I first spotted the liquor bottle at a Nashville bar a few years ago.ย  And I knew I HAD to have it regardless of what alcohol surprise was inside.

$50 bones for 750 ml skull, $6 for 50 ml

Lucky for me, it was vodka (yes, I often cheat on Skinny Pirates with vodka and wine) made by funnyman Dan Akroyd.ย  And it’s mighty tasty.

The Skinny Skull recipe is a highly contagious concoction of Crystal Head Vodka on the rocks, a splash of Diet Sprite and a squeeze of lime (my stirrer is actually a cocktail pick but I make mine do double duty).ย  You can also add less vodka and more Diet Sprite, if your liver isn’t conditioned like mine (don’t judge).

While it’s not low(er) budget vodka (Skyy, Absolut) as I typically drink, I received my bottles as gifts from very fabulous friends and save for special occasions….like scary movie nights in October.

Not only is this vodka, its fancy bottle doubles as decoration. Two skulls, one stone.

Add the freak to your Friday with a Skinny Skull.

Cheers!

CBXB