The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky” by the oh-so-sweet fellow 4th graders) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to your car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during P.E. but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

Celebrating the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

       … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                       Passed down to generations…

and

                                              … and generations …

still

…to upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

   …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

           …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is like leading one big…

…fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

…even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

Join the twins in a sing-a-long to Coo Coo…

(of course we do not have normal monikers such as Grandpa in my classy family)

We love you.

CBXB

CBXB!

The Man, The Myth, The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky”) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to your car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during PE but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

As we celebrate the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

       … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                       Passed down to generations…

and

                                              … and generations …

still

…to upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

                      …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

                …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is like leading one big…

                                                            …fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

                 …even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

CBXB

CBXB!

My Pussy, the Bitch

Teddy Bear can really be a little bitch sometimes.

Missing man.

Worse than a junior high school girl hitting puberty.

And now that Ted has a partner in crime – New Cat – they can be such little bitches together.

Two times the trouble.

Two times the trouble.

The past few weeks, I might as well be getting up to nurse a fucking newborn because Mr. Bear starts meowing (in which he sounds like a tiny sheep) around 3am.

Then he comes in a little closer to the bed at 3:04 am.

A little louder and just out of arm’s reach at 3:07am.

I put the pillow over my head, turn my sound machine up and all of a sudden my little sheep cat is roaring his head off like a lion.

Fierce.

Fierce.

Then, because he idolizes his big bro, NC starts chiming in and together they sound like a jacked up version of a church choir.

And then bitches about it.

NOT pitch perfect.

When Tedstar first started doing this, I’d get my ass up to coax him back to bed but he wanted to play chase. Such fun every night at 3:13am.  I would go to pick him up and he’d run (for what seemed like his life – I might as well have been threatening to de-claw him with pliers) under the kitchen table. As soon as I’d crouch down by the table, he’d race into the bathroom behind the toilet, and so on…therefore, I started to ignore him.  Because he’s really just seeing if I will get up and give into him, right?

I never ever ever ever ever give in to this face. Ever.

I never ever, ever, ever, ever give in to this face.
Ever.

Well, this bitch means business. So much so, I was considering how to reupholster a section of my vintage sofa that used to belong to my Gma.  As I was getting my beauty sleep amid the white noise of my sound machine (on the highest volume setting) TB was up to no good (with assistance by Mr. Tuxedo, I’m sure).

Teddy Krueger’s version of a temper tantrum.

Of course I couldn’t find the little shits when I discovered this treasure and racked my brain contemplating how to patch this corner (the front, exposed so everyone can see it corner, naturally).  And I came up with a solution that fit right in with my eclectic, budget conscious household. Duct tape.

Leopard duct tape.

Growing up, I my dad taught me that duct tape can fix anything (even your big, fat glasses in 3rd grade. You simply put the duct tape over the piece that snapped off, which in my case was right in the middle, where the glasses sit on one’s nose and pretend as if nothing is wrong. Which is why much to my delight, I was nicknamed Ducky. Kids are so sweet).

Hello Gorgeous

Pre-Ducky break.

In my current case, applying my father’s knowledge, I found leopard duct tape and ‘reupholstered’ the corner of my couch.

Cheapest (and probably cheapest looking) DIY job ever! But it does the trick.

The $4 duct tape fix. Dad’s practical solution!

In reality, Teddy was just trying to help me spruce up my space a tad. Because once he got his claw stuck in the duct tape, he never set his sights on my couch again.

Oh, and those 3am wake up cries? Seems the cats were needing food, as I was forgetting to feed them before bed (guess this would be why I don’t have kids).

So now, I feed the damn pussies at night and all of my furniture has remained in tact.

For now.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Football ‘n’ Flu

Funny how one minute we can be knocking back shots and the next be laid flat-out on the bathroom floor.

Shots

From this….

2.5 seconds flat. Not the four seasons but it will do.

…to this in 2.5 seconds flat.

It all started on a happy note Saturday.

With my Iowa Hawkeyes off on a bye week, I was headed to a tailgate for the Ole Miss vs. Alabama game. The hostess, Lady, is a Mississippi chick through and through and requested that I cheer on her team. But come to find out, I don’t own any navy (the horror reversecommuter!) so I concocted my own anti-Alabama attire with the help of some duct tape (which I’m sure assisted Ole Miss with their victory).

Tailgate attire

Classy dressing at its finest.

Ole Miss Baby

Lady and the duct taped Tramp.

As all of my friends are crazy about procreating, the tailgate was toddler friendly with much of the halftime show featuring free-flowing tears.

Tailgating with toddlers

Who needs a marching band when you have this for entertainment?

Feeling left out (and guilty) because I left my two-year-old feline at home (anybody know where I can get a cat papoose?), I scooped up a kid to feel included.

Even rented a baby.

Rent-a-baby looks natural on me, yes?

But all of the fun and games came to a crashing halt with the sudden regurgitation of everything I’d consumed over the weekend. First thinking it was food poisoning but quickly resigning to the fact that it was the stomach flu as I camped out on the bathroom floor overnight to alleviate my body from over exerting itself in the mad dash from my bed the toilet every 45 minutes.

Not the four seasons but it will do.

Not the Four Seasons but it will do.

In the wee hours of Sunday morning, I texted my buddy Camo to see if he had any anti-nausea medicine he could drop off the following day. Not only did he have quick dissolving tablets to trick my body into absorption (instead of the expulsion it was doing to everything else I tried), he delivered it at 4am along with some hydrating fluids.

Knight in shining Camo.

Knight in shining Camo.

Unable to watch TV due to pulsating eyelids, I kept up on highlights of a family wedding I was missing out on in Iowa.

Wedding shenanigns and photo bombs.

Wedding shenanigans and photo bombs.

When it came time to the caretaking, I’m sure you all know who was the first in line for snuggle duty.

Ted cold shouldering New Cat out of nursing duties.

Mr. Bear cold shouldering New Cat out of nursing responsibilities.

Even with all of the cat cuddles, my stomach still hated my guts. But my gal pal G (the one who fights 80-year-olds) left a sweet surprise outside of my door after she picked up a prescription for me.

My friends kick ass.

My friends kick ass.

And while still on the mend, I’m pretty sure my most demanding pussy will insist I stay home sick every day.

Hoarder.

Mother lover.

Here’s hoping your week has been and remains healthier than mine!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

Tennessee Truck Trash

The state of Tennessee (along with Kentucky, Alabama and Mississippi) is often referred to as “The Armpit of America,” and when I first relocated to the greenest state in the land of the free it took all of three seconds to understand the moniker.

It seems that white trash folks live above the Mason-Dixon Line, where as red necks (who are really proud to boast about being one) generally reside in the South. And to be a proper red neck, you need a truck because they come in handy for attaching larger than life tires, they are used for muddin’ (yes it’s a sport down here) and with a truck, you don’t care if your window falls out or if you need a ladder to climb into the cab.

blah

My buddy Chris (complete in camo) caught in mud after a day of turkey hunting. Looks devastated (more like delighted), huh?

This proud truck owner apparently needs a ladder to climb up to the driver’s seat with the oversized tires in which he opted to attach to his ride. It makes so much sense for driving around Nashville, right?

Up the ladder to the truck, where you can see heaven much better!

Up the ladder to the truck, where you can see heaven much better!

Due to the photo quality you can’t quite see the beauty in this truck’s license plate….

Sound it out...

PRKRIND. Sound it out…

On the same Nashville interstate, I found this clever driver who decided glass was too fancy for his rear window.  He opted for plastic and duct tape (my favorite), which really classes the vehicle up – don’t you agree?

Duct tape to the rescue!

Duct tape to the rescue!

This lovely SUV owner obviously takes Tennessee trash quite literally.

Taking pride in their SUV

Taking pride in garbage.

Trashed dash

Trashed dash.

Of course after seeing my fellow statesmen class up our city, I had to get in on the trashy Tennessee shenanigans.  Since my dream car is a Range Rover, I thought I’d just go ahead and own one – all it took was  a marker, packing tape and cardboard. A true dream come true – for free!

Dream come true...

Think my new vehicle can handle the car wash?

Just keepin’ it ultra classy with my fellow Tennesseeans (does this mean I’m now a red neck?!)…

CBXB

CBXB!

Keep Calm and Tape On

I have such an ongoing love affair with tape, my last name should be Scotch. I’ve used leopard duct tape to decorate planters (click here to view) and to spruce up my vintage couch Teddy sank his claws into because I forgot (mom of the year!) to feed him (to read about His Royal Highness’ bitchiness, click here).

I am always looking for ways to spruce up my mini-manse (with no budget, of course) without adding to the volume of belongings I already stuff into every nook and cranny of my place without becoming a featured episode on Hoarders.  So here’s my newest creation that cost a whopping $4.49.

Laundry Wing in my mini-manse complete!

Laundry Wing in my mini-manse complete!

Every time I walk through my front door (my only door to the outside world), the first thing I see is the bland Laundry Wing of my mini-manse (the doors slide open and without having to move an inch, you’re in the laundry room – lucky me not having to burn any extra calories walking to the other side of my place!).

From plain

Ho Hum Laundry Wing

I’ve often thought about painting the doors but never took the plunge, as I want my security deposit back (if I ever leave renter’s land). So when I spotted a roll of black masking tape at work, I had an Aha! moment. Why haven’t I considered my beloved tape for a DIY project? Hello blonde moment.

Here’s what you’ll need to spruce up any wing (with doors) in your very own manse:

Scissors. Your choice color of tape.

Be sure you choose a matte type of tape – the shinier the tape’s surface, the more flaws will show (uneven cut lines in my case).

Cut. Tape. Very hard.

Cut tape. Apply. Very hard.

I started eyeball ‘measuring’ the pieces by lining them up with the lines below and cutting the tape just a little longer.

blah

As I moved on, I cut the tape at an angle.  When I did a straight cut, the corners seemed thick and uneven (I’m such a perfectionist with my eyeballing of measurements and all).

I tried to angle the corners to save me later

After seeing my initial result I was in LOVE (and thought I was an instant interior designer, patting myself on the back).  I had to apply two layers of tape for each crevice but by using the black matte color you can barely tell (unless your eyes are centimeters away from the doors).

Hmm

Once I finished all of the doors, I was worried that the masking tape might not be adhesive enough to last as long as I wished.  So I got out my trusty Mod Podge in another moment of my sheer geniusness (these moments are very far and few between for me).

Modge Podge and sponge brush for corners or thin layer around all tape.

Mod Podge I had on hand (but would cost you about $5.00 if you didn’t). Foam brush, $0.99.

A very thin coat of my favorite gloss-lustre did the trick.

blah

And now here’s what I see as I prance into my lair…

Go give your own Laundry Wing some love!

All of my other boring white doors in various wings of my mini-manse are so jealous.

Can you blame them?

CBXB

Leopard Lovin’ Pot

**Update: It is now 2018 and I still have this decorative flower pot. AND I keep it outside year round in Tennessee.**

I don’t really care for the plain and usual if it can be funky and fabulous.

And after my couch mending (see My Cat is Bitchier Than Your Cat), I thought of another way to use the leopard duct tape (it’s not just for couch corners and eye glasses anymore, folks!) for sprucing up my flowerpots.  I always want the pretty, colored planters but hate parting with the loot (happy hours aren’t always cheap when you drink a fine liquor like Captain Morgan – well specials just won’t cut it), so I usually stick with the boring old plastic containers. And then, a stroke of genius appeared with the little miracle of duct tape (once again, Dad’s right. It really can be used for everything).

Here’s what you’ll need:

Get your favorite duct tape (I’d do anything but the silver. Then it really looks like you’ve broken the pot and are taping it back together. You’re classier than that!), scissors and packing tape.

Cut the duct tape into strips – I did about 4″-5″ per piece. If you do anything longer, the tape will start to bend up and the lines won’t be as straight (I’m a picky perfectionist – if it doesn’t bother you, don’t worry about it).

Once you have covered the entire pot with the decorative duct tape, use the clear packing tape over the entire area (same size of strips). This will help the duct tape from peeling and acts as a water barrier if you keep your plant outside (it’s rained for days since my pot received its makeover and all tape is still in tact).

I’ve never seen a fern quite so happy to be confined to a flowerpot, have you?

And that my fabulous friends is how to turn a boring old brown flowerpot into some fine lookin’ flower power. Get to it!

CBXB

CBXB!