Weekend Winks – Crazier by the Cat

Hi. My name is CBXB and I for sure may or may not have a pussy problem. But before I divulge, let me tell you how it all started…

A fiesta at work opened the weekend to a vast array of shenanigans on Friday afternoon.

Senorita and Senor Happy.

Senorita and Senor Happy.

And the debauchery carried over to another amigo’s birthday party.

My nose.

Picking the perfect birthday present.

I found myself waking up to darkness Saturday morning because I thought it would be a good idea to sleep in my prescription sunglasses.

Dazed. Confused.

Dazed. Confused. Blonde.

But rising in my sunnies proved ideal, as I simply rolled out of bed and trotted to the annual Tomato Festival in East Nashville.

Who doesn't drink shots before noon on a Saturday? WHO?!

Who doesn’t drink shots before noon on a Saturday?

Speaking of shots (caffeine that is), Princess B has decided that she will work at a Starbucks drive thru for her first job.

Your blueberry scone and coffee.

Your blueberry scone and coffee are ready.

While Prince B will most likely seek joining a band of pirates for employment when he’s old enough.

Cowboy with a little crossbones.

Cowboy with a little crossbones.

But regardless, this weekend the twins were all smiles because this big guy was up in Iowa for a visit…



Back in Nashville, minus 4,027,971 brain cells from the weekend (and although still in deep mourning over the sudden loss of New Cat) this happened…



I, uh....er....

I, uh….er….I’ll take them.


Three times the fucking charm?

Help. Me.




The Agony of Being a Cat Mom

You know how moms of humans sometimes talk about feeling guilty and torn leaving their offspring, while going to work/vacation/out for much needed drinks away from the homestead?

I’ve often thought these women were fucked in the head for not wanting time away from their children until my little ones started pulling this shit whenever I try to leave the mini manse (and yes, my babies are cats. Stop judging).

Ted and New Cat have a perch right by my front window that allows them to look over the mighty kingdom of the side yard.

The perching isn't always this polite.

The perching isn’t always this polite.

When hearing my keys clink together New New typically scrams, knowing that it’s time to nap the day away.

Would you leave already? I have some very serious napping to do.

Would you leave already?
I have some very serious snoozing to do.

On the other hand Mr. Bear, acts as if he’s aboard the sinking Titanic with my departure being the last time we’ll ever see one another before drowning into the abyss of dark ocean waters (he takes after his mother in the drama department). So as soon as he hears the key hit the doorknob, he immediately engages me in a stare down.

What? Where do you think you're going?!

Goodbye my love.

Then he quickly tip toes like he’s walking the plank over the windowsill with high hopes of preventing my exit.

Sneak attack

Tricky Teddy’s balancing act isn’t always so graceful.

Before I know it, a blur of gray appears before my eyes.

The mad dash

The mad dash.

The little love of my life then tries to morph into The Rock, keeping the steel door from closing in his furry face.

High hopes the door swings back open.

Too bad he doesn’t have a shirt to rip off.

Regretfully I draw the door closed as my heart starts cracking.


Oh how the guilt washes over me as I gently shut the door.

Last ditch attempt with a strong paw

Does anyone else hear the violin music from the Titanic movie playing?

I get it moms to humans. I get it.

Is it too much to ask to be a stay at home cat mom?



A Loose Limerick…

  A crazy lady named Captain


Stuffed her cats in Irish hats to entertain


New Cat squealed


Teddy persevered


But both pussies still showcased their disdain.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!



How to Conduct a Photoshoot with Pissy Pussies

Being the resident cray cray cat lady of Nashville, it’s a given that I shove my precious pussy Mr. Bear into a costume on any and all occasions that arise.


Unwillingly the cutest, calmest bat cat in all of his glory.

Now because my Teddy is the most laid back pussy you’ll ever meet, over the years I’ve been able to shove him into a sombrero, a tie, a Santa suit, bunny ears and last Halloween, into a Robin Thicke costume (complimenting my Miley – and yes, if you didn’t already know or believe my previous statement, I am bat shit crazy over my feline. I couldn’t love him more if I birthed him myself. Judge away).

But I knew this holiday season was going to be different because Ted and I acquired a new resident this year in the form of a very annoying, extremely lovable, mentally challenged (think Lloyd Christmas from Dumb and Dumber) tuxedo cat we cleverly named New Cat.  Wondering how I could costume a trio, my gal pal over at Apple Pie and Napalm suggested Catman and Robin, with me chiming in as Catwoman, obviously.


Downloaded templates from the Internet, velcro strips and felt were all that was needed to outfit my super heroes.

Little Glue high from the glue fumes

I bonded the Catman pieces to felt with fabric glue.

Ready to roll

And then cut velcro strips that easily stuck to the felt backed masks and collars.

Hoping NC was high from glue fumes, my fingers were crossed that he would bond with his costume before I tried to slide him into it.

Robin bonding

You want me to put what where??

After thirty minutes of trying to wrangle New New into his Robin collar, I should have known by his crazy eyes just how well this photo shoot would go…

what the fuck is happening to me?!

What the fuck is happening to me?!

While Ted patiently waited in his full on Catman garb, I wrestled New Cat WWE style to get the damn mask around his head.

Taking hold

.0001 second into the shoot and Mr. Tuxedo was already one-eyed.


Three seconds into the shoot, I thought this was going to be a slightly less stressful event, as New Cat settled down.

At all.

Until second five when NC decided to try to entice Catman into a fist fight.

Slippery than a greased pig

Masked crusader brawl about to break out.

Staying in character, I tried to strong armed the ferocious felines into sitting still enough for one more shot….which might have worked if New Cat hadn’t somehow become more slippery than a greased pig.

Greased Pig

Taking the back door exit. No wonder Robin was never the star – he was a big pussy!

So what’s a crazy cat lady to do when one of her pussies is being beyond cooperative during a photoshoot?

Do it again, naturally.

Claws out.

Trying to get my eyes clawed out is one of my many specialties.

As you can see my second attempt failed more miserably than my first and Mr. Tuxedo meowed so loudly my ears were ringing.



Seeing that there was no coaxing my new pussy into anymore costume shenanigans, TB and I went back to what we do best.

Being a dynamic duo.



Which is exactly how Teddy prefers it.




Weekend Winks – Crazy Style

Party Girl not pooped.

Party Girl not pooped.

After all of my Christmas partying shenanigans, I thought the weekends would calm down a bit after ringing in 2014.

Holiday gifts were being worn with pride.

CBXB nephew style

A little CBXB style for my Iowa nephew.

The goodbye to last year was guzzled away by yours truly.

Kiss my ass 2013!

Kiss my ass 2013!

New Year’s resolutions were promised to be followed.


I got this.

My gulping abilities were being mimicked by a new generation (my heart bursts with pride).

Milk chugging champ.

Milk chugging champ.

And Ted lazed the days away on his new favorite tissue bed.

Beauty sleep for the both of us

Lounging for the both of us.

But, like most of the country winter weather was headed Nashville’s way.

It's coming....

The snow was already falling up north.

Because winter weather makes folks in Nashville lose their sanity with even just the mention of frozen precipitation (I shit you not. The grocery stores were nearly out of milk and bread yesterday and local schools cancelled Monday classes by noon Sunday. Yes, you read that right), I joined in on the crazy.

It started by me taking in a soaking wet, shivering, hungry stray that sat by my door in 17 degree weather, greeting me upon my arrival home (and no, this isn’t the same stray I posted about last week. Someone is dumping cats in my apartment complex and if I catch you doing it, I WILL END YOU).  Knowing I couldn’t let the little guy freeze to death I scooped him up, dried him off and set up shop for him in the bathroom.


Hello? This paw is still wet.

The next morning I took him to the vet to be sure he didn’t have leukemia, kitty AIDS and got him vaccinated.

After he received a clean bill of health, I brought him back home – adding another cray to the notch in my already crazy cat lady belt.

Lost my goddamn mind

WTF have you brought into my house?

While I let kit cats sniff one another out, Ted was cautious at first glance.

Then New Cat started to explore the mini-manse.

Polite strangers

Perched politely.

Ted became quite the host after a few minutes, overseeing the little guy’s every move. Even in the makeshift litter pan I put in the guest bath.

Host with the most, even in the bathroom

Yep. That looks about right.

While Ted and New Cat never even uttered a meow, hiss or low growl at one another, our house guest made it extremely clear he would rather be outside in the zero degree temperature.

Let me the hell out of here!

Caged in the warmest of jails. Poor thing.


Spending the first day and night in a window, meowing the meow of his people to be let outside.

Of course this cat was forced to stay inside a warm apartment with ample food and water. The horror!

I am on the search to find him a home – anyone want a sweet little kit cat between one and two years old? I’d keep him but Ted’s got a food allergy (so low maintenance, just like his mama) and his food costs $60 per bag. Can’t swing that for two cats. So c’mon…who wants a new fur baby?

What better way to end a weekend than with football playoffs?  Even little B & B in Iowa couldn’t tear their eyes away from the Packers/49ers game.

Go Greenbay Go!

Go Green Bay Go!

After wrangling cats this morning, I was greeted with a slight dusting of snow, frozen shut doors and an engine that refused to start for 10 minutes.

No problem

No problem for a former Iowa girl.

While I poured a bucket of hot water down my driver’s side door to gain entry, here’s hoping I can open it when I want to go home from work tonight.

Hope you are finding yourself warm (with a pantry stocked of bread and a fridge full of milk) wherever you are on this winter day.




The Seven Month Itch

March marks my seventh month in the blogosphere, which I suppose means I’m still relatively new at this. When I started posting, I not only wondered what in the hell I was going to talk about daily (like I ever shut up) I also wondered who in the world would be interested enough (aside from my mother and the required family member readership) to come hang and take a peek into my life.

In celebration, I’ve decided to share seven random facts about myself. Sit back, relax and grab a cocktail (or three)…

#1. I have a really fun family that I love hanging around.

up up and away

Trying to get a lift onto my dad’s back after honky tonkin’ for my sister’s bachelorette party.

#2. I often make an asshole out of myself on accident.  Labeling them as blonde moments makes me feel better.


It’s JAWS! Scary shark! Wait, where’d the shark go?

#3. Rarely do I drink ’til I puke. But when I was younger and didn’t know any better, thank god someone was there to capture the Kodak moment.

My bestie, Scooby holding my hair back. While laughing. Loudly.

My bestie, Scooby holding my hair back. While laughing. Loudly.

#4. I’ve been crazy about cats my entire life.

Cray cray in training.

Cray cray in training with Ernie.

#5. Richie Sambora (yeah, the one from Bon Jovi) once put a guitar pick he used during a show into my hand. I said into my hand! He didn’t throw it into the crowd and I happened to catch it, he walked over and handed it to me.  This was in the Heather Locklear vs. Denise Richards days. I was pretty sure I hated Richie for cheating on his gorgeous wife, Heather (I mean if she gets cheated on, where’s that leave the rest of us gals?) and knew I hated him for dating his ex-wife’s friend during the divorce. Then Richie’s hand touched mine and well….



I fell so much in love with the stupid pick, I had it made into a necklace. It’s my personal heirloom to pass down to my cat children. Teddy refuses to wear it around his neck because he thinks it’s too “heavy.” CATS.

Not too heavy for this neck.

Not too heavy for this neck.

#6. I have a trashy habit (does this surprise anyone? Anyone?!) of cutting down bags of chips as I stuff them into my mouth.  This not only alleviates your wrist from getting greasy, this tactic is much more time efficient when trying to inhale the crumbs at the bottom of the bag. Trust me.

I know, I know...why didn't you think about this before?!

I know, I know…why didn’t you think about this before?!

Breakfast of Champions

#7. I couldn’t love my cat Teddy more than if I’d birthed him myself. Yeah, yeah, I know. C.R.A.Z.Y.

Couldn't love this cat more...

Crazy in love.

Here’s to seven more months of fun!




Cray Cray Cat Lady Lingerie

My love for the feline species started young and as far back as I can remember, cats have always been in my life.  I suppose instead of doll babies, I was busy trying to burp a kitten.

Crazy about cats as a child.

Taking cats down slides as playmates (I apparently was desperate for a sibling, you think?) was as natural to me as all get out, further solidifying my future as a maniacal lover of all things that meow.

Oh, you’re gonna play with me and you’re gonna like it.

So it’s no surprise that my entire family is well aware of my life long obsession with my cats (I mean all typical women love cats and candles, right?).

My very thoughtful cousin Dom texted this picture to me on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Cozy, cat lady winter attire.

It took all of .02 seconds to wonder why he thought of me when he saw it hanging at Target.

Our text conversation went as follows:

Dom: Footie PJs

Me: Where?

Dom: Target

Me: On my way to purchase. STAT.

I rushed to lay eyes on the adult onesie.

My internal dialogue was saying “I really love leopard print. And I REALLY am crazy about my cat but who in the hell would want one of these jumpsuits, let alone wear it around the house?”  Apparently, me. Because externally I couldn’t help myself from stashing it into my cart (while looking around to make sure no one I knew was watching this grown ass woman’s pajama selection) and galloping to the check-out.

How can you say no to kitty feet? You don’t.

I could not wait to get home and see Teddy’s reaction.

Full frontal fierceness.

Fancy feline flannels.

As it turns out, these pajamas are not only sensible fashion for the cat lover, they are also quite practical.

Puuuuurfect pockets to stash cat toys and treats.

All moms need a little “me” time and this lounge wear is to the rescue.

Cat Camouflage. For the times you need a break from your fur ball and wish to blend in with surroundings.

With footies, you never have to worry about turning your heat on in the winter time.

Ted and I now have matching pink paws.

After all of my prancing around, I was wondering if TB was EVER going to acknowledge my new giddy up…

And then, Ted came pouncing over, begging to get his claws on my new threads.


You too, can have this cat magnet sleepwear all for just $25….so many ample reasons to invest.  With lingerie like this, it’s a wonder I’m not married, huh?