You know I love the word pussy – a word I use quite frequently on this blog in describing my beloved feline fur balls. However, hearing it come from a dirty old man’s mouth, in regard to grabbing a woman’s crotch (any woman’s crotch for that matter) because he’s a ‘star’…. fucking please. So, to tune out all of the P word debate nonsense, I chilled with my fave P word – Precious the chug on the mini manse porch Friday evening.
We had to take it easy, as I was bleary eyed for an 8am appointment at the hair house on Saturday. Luckily, I get to bring my mascot – who needs no primping with a face like hers.
Even though I feel very Paris Hilton circa 1999, annoyingly toting my squatty bodied pooch in my purse, it’s too fun to resist – so I don’t.
Hurrying home after my gussy-up, I filled my fave wine glass with a Skinny Pirate for an 11am Iowa Hawkeyes kick-off.
While we’re tried and true fans, our tradition of touchdown shots was sidelined due a measly two field goals. So we chose to do sympathy shots in the third quarter.
Then finally in the last two minutes of the game, Iowa scored a touchdown and we were able to celebrate family tradition style.
While we were day drinking our brains out, my Iowa twins were modeling for family photos.
While I planned on detoxing Sunday, the realm of crazy surrounding the presidential debate
forced encouraged me to take the edge of all of the nonsense with a little vino.
When did debate coverage become similar to College Game Day? When posters that made me piss my pants started showing up behind the commentator’s heads.
Even baby Elsa Pants was in dire need of a drink after the word devil was used by one candidate to describe the other.
And Presh could only muster a side eye glance at the shit show.
Naturally, I guzzled. Well, in truth my sister and I played a game where we drank every time Donald Trump sniffled. Which meant we guzzled every other minute.
The best thing I’ve seen since the debate was posted by Taraji P. Henson on Instagram in reference to pussy grabbing.
I hope Trump never comes near mine.
Here’s hoping no one forcefully grabs anything of importance to you this week.