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!

 

 

 

Weekend Winks – Mini Manse on the Move!

Last weekend was consumed with digesting the fact that I was being asked to vacate my beloved mini-manse due to circumstances out of my control (which would be an unplanned pregnancy by my landlord’s son who lives on the other side…so they’re expanding to my side of the duplex. Condoms rock for those of you who seem to be unaware of the perks such as my neighbor).

So all this week I cruised the streets of Nashville, Craigslist (there are some real doozies out there – people and places – one guy had a bong out on the refrigerator as we toured the apartment), paper and Internet with my gal pal G (you know, the one who wanted to beat up an 80-year-old on my behalf – read about it here).  After much stomach turning, sleepless nights, budget reviewing and armpit sweating, I signed a lease! Now I might have to sell a few body parts between now and July 1, but Ted and I have a new place to call home.

Closet heaven. Holla!

This closet made me do it.

I wore the closest thing I had to ruby-red slippers when I went to sign the lease on Saturday.

Hoping to click my heels and say there's no place like home...

Clicking my heels and saying there’s no place like home…

Of course a few cocktails were called for as my mind whirled with thoughts of “WTF did I just do…is it the right thing….will Teddy adjust accordingly….?!”

Mine all mine!

Mine all mine!

I was quickly reminded of how much fun apartment living can be while celebrating with Mom on the patio.  All of a sudden, small rocks (pebbles, really) from the neighbor’s deck above fell through the cracks accompanied by screams of, “YOU CALLED ME A LAZY ASS! YOU F’ING BITCH!” More rocks thrown through the cracks. Ah, home sweet home.

My new patio wing...

My new patio wing…the rock quarry.

I had to share the news with my little B & B in Iowa via FaceTime. They insisted on cuddling while I recounted how much fun I will have posting about my neighbors above me.

Cray cray Aunt CBXB

What happened next Auntie CBXB?!

Father’s Day called from some southern spoiling for my dear old dad (and he hated every minute of it, as you can tell from the pics).

Spoiled father on dad's day.

Double fisting gifts.

CBXB gifted Dad with a pretty sweet BBQ hat and a framed quote regarding legendary status I came upon this weekend. My dad often refers to himself as “a legend” because he was an athletic stud in high school and college (which even led to some time in the NFL).

Lucky loot

Legendary loot.

The frame included this little picture…

My dad....the legend.

He expected nothing less from the classy gal he raised right.

Hanging with the Legend...

Hanging with The Legend…

All important margaritas were poured for our Father’s Day celebration (he was heavy-handed with his glass – go figure).

All important margarita

Just a few more ounces should do the trick.

My bro-in-law, celebrating his first Dad’s Day got the little twins giggling with delight (I wish he would call and make me laugh like that).

Fun Day Father's Day!

Fun Day Father’s Day!

Upon returning home from my parent’s house, I had to break the news to Ted that we would be leaving our mini-manse. He took the news about as well as I did when I found out last week …

Me taking the news (not so well, mind you) –

Smoking wreck

Ted’s reaction last night –

WTF were you thinking? I KNOW.

WTF? WE’RE MOVING?

I’ll keep you posted on the feline fun that is coming my way.

CBXB

CBXB!