Weekend Winks – Holy Shits, Dips and Shots

There’s all kinds of crazy taking place in my Nashville bubble and I can’t say that I hate it.

Precious and I made our Billboard.com debut in music artist Ryan Kinder’sStill Believe in Crazy Love,” (scroll all of the way to the bottom of the article to watch the entire) video. There’s a long, fabulous story behind this experience I will share later (regarding Rapegate) but I did what any normal person does when they have their two seconds of fame.

Celebrating on a budget.

No pawtographs, please.

Naturally, I had to go out to toast my newfound famousness and First Mate was happy to oblige my obsession with myself.

Why am I not being bombarded?

While I basked in my glow of nothingness, the Iowa twins continue to morph into little people and are more hilarious than ever.

Princess B has been rocking pigtails, enjoying the Indian summer above the Mason Dixon line while she cheers her bro on in anything sports related.

Smiles for miles.

No. No it does not get any cuter.

Speaking of sports, I’ve been nil reporting on our tailgating shenanigans and Dada CBXB and I were in full force this weekend.

Her version of tailgating.

Our version of tailgating included almost every liquor under the sun, my dad’s self-dubbed “World Famous Wings,” the blogfamous “Eat Shit and Die Guacamole,” and snacks to soak up our hope of scoring any points against the number four ranked Penn State.

Spread right.

I made sure to be gussied up with sparkles and shine for a little extra luck for my Hawks.

Black, gold and perfectly bold Keds for Kate Spade sneakers.

Trying to one up Gwen Stefani by wearing my boyfriend’s face on my shirt instead of my shoe.

Much to our delight, we were able to do a traditional touchdown shot right before halftime because the Hawkeyes scored. Yeehaw!

We just wanted to drink….we didn’t think it’d actually be a good game!

As the second half wore on, our Cinderella team grew thisclose to beating the Nittany Lions with a last minute touchdown. Did you hear me screaming Saturday night?

 

The Hawkeyes did not hear my victory cries because they lost during the last play of the game with four seconds left. But we did an “E” for effort shot and are proud fans for hanging that close as an unranked, always overlooked team.

How ’bout them Hawks?!

Losers brunch was delish, as it was my dad’s self-dubbed “World Famous Omelette,” which never disappoints.

Breakfast of non-champions.

It’s been just over a month since I suddenly lost the furry little love of my life, Ted. And while I can’t yet write a full post about the magnitude of his loss to me, I miss him every single second of every single day.

But funny how I saw this Facebook memory and within minutes received a message from the gal who runs the cat rescue in which I’m a poster child, saying there may be someone I should go check out at Pet Smart if I was ready.

I have a love/hate relationship with the fucking memories that pop up on Facebook daily.

It took all of four seconds with my torso in the kennel to decide what the next chapter of pussy life will be like at the mini manse.

READY

A little shopping around with my newest pussy and shooting our first selfie before heading home.

Who doesn’t do this?

While the newest member of the fam has decided his fave place is under my bed, updates will follow as I mold him into my sidekick. Boy, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s in for – hope he’s ready by Halloween for matching outfits.

Here’s to having a fabulous week.

Cheers!

CBXB

 

How to Become a Poster Child for Pussy

How does one become a pussy poster child you are wondering?

You adopt five fucking cats in six months (yes, you read that right). And then become that bona fide crazy lady who is a borderline hoarder of little furry beasts. But I didn’t mean to….

You see, my love of pussy started at a young age and never waned.

I might as well have been born a kitten.

I might as well have been born a kitten.

Planning vacation activities as an adult around cat shows on piers qualifies one for being a deranged feline lover.

Elbowing four year olds for a front seat.

Elbowing four-year olds for a front row seat to watch cats that do tricks.

Falling in love with aforementioned cat show host because he, well loves pussy as much as I do.

Soul mate.

Just as crazy about cats as me. #soulmates

Visiting Ernest Hemingway’s cat cemetery in Key West almost put me over the edge.

Noooooooooooo.

Sweet little souls I never knew.

Naturally I made an ass out of myself crying alone in a fucking cemetery for cats. Actually, I was bawling behind sunglasses so much so that a stranger came up and asked me if I was OK.

Cried

Why can’t all cats live forever?

Until that Key West vacation, I was a one pussy at a time kinda gal. Even though I’d always loved cats of all kinds, I had one precious prince at a time. Until there was New Cat.

Fuck Face.

A true Fuck Face of a feline.

New New showed up at my door one cold, snowy night and not wanting to love him after of course taking him in, I didn’t give him a name. He insisted on staying put in the mini manse and so, we kept this little Dennis the Menace who tore down window shades to get a better view outside, climbed curtains, broke vases, was once almost washed with clothes – you get the idea.

Couldn't even piss without him all up in my grill.

Hell, I couldn’t even piss without him all up in my grill.

Yet NC and Ted fell in love and became playmates as well as bruthas from anotha mutha.

Brotherly love.

Hugs, love and punches to the face.

The first time I ever felt famous was due to New Cat because I had to get a prescription for him from Walgreens. And felt like an ass hat when the nice pharmacist asked for the patient’s name and I replied with New Cat to a quizzical look. Which was then called over the loud speaker when the medicine was ready…so now I get notes on my personal prescriptions from my pharmacist (who is now a friend!).

Famous Pussy Lover

Nashville’s famous pussy lover in the flesh.

But very suddenly last summer, the most annoying cat in the world died of saddle thrombosis (a blood clot on his spine) at an emergency clinic in the middle of the night. To say that Ted was inconsolable is an understatement.

Pretty inconsolable.

Terribly sad mama and baby bear.

And then, I did the only thing a mother could do.

While stopping in at Pet Smart for Ted’s $75 bag of cat food, I accidentally saw these two mugs as Sweet Faces Rescue resided in the main aisle of the store with oodles of cats and kittens needing homes.

Double take on New Cat.

Double take on New Cat.

And then, I made the mistake of holding them.

At the same time.

Two's not a crowd.

Two’s not a crowd.

Fast forward three seconds and I was adopting two bros for my main squeeze ho.

Uh..

Uh…this happened.

Mothers always know what’s best for their kids and the attraction between the twins and The Bear was immediate.

Ted fell hard.

Ted fell hard.

Precious the chug, not so much.

Precious, not so much.

We had to ease her into the tuxedo twins.

I knew the two new felines needed names and due to my love of all things Griswold, I instantly knew what I would name this duo.

Naturally it onlyl made sensse.

Hallelujah! Holy shit! She’s naming them!

And so the mini manse then consisted of Clark, Cousin Eddie, Ted and Precious.

Clark, Eddie, Teddy and Presh.

The chug and the pussies.

But then, keeping in line with the Griswolds, my cat shitter got full.

Literally.

Cat shit alert.

Cat shit alarm clock is a fun way to wake up.

Diharrea galore made Ted ultra sick.

SKin and bones due to

Not a happy skin and bones camper.

The twins and Ted needed to be separated, so Clark and Cousin Eddie went to visit Dada CBXB.

Gpa

Obviously hating life with Gpa.

Dad fell in love with the twins by the time Mr. Bear was back in the saddle so, in keeping with the Griswold family style, I wrapped up the damn cats and gave them to him for Christmas.

Wrapped up the damn cats.

My equivalent of Aunt Bethany.

Ted was well, Presh was happy but then bad shit happened to me.

Who Loves me?

Who Loves me? Cats. Cats will love me.

I was in dire straits for too long, wallowing in depths of despair while Tedstar and Presh were like two old fogies in a nursing home.

And I turned

We all needed help.

So, Mama CBXB thought it would be a genius idea to get me a kitten.

Cute.

I didn’t hate that idea. At all.

Elsa Pants

So we ended up with Elsa Pants.

Typically, I rescue cats that are at least two years old, knowing their chances dwindle with each passing year they age. With this in mind, as I stood up with the newest addition to my family in Pet Smart, I saw these eyes peering out of a cage.

FUck. Those New Cat Eyes again.

Fuck. New Cat Crazy Eyes.

But wait! There was also a brother in the back of the cage who wasn’t adjusting well to rescue life because they were four when their owner surrendered them (stupid motherfuckers like that piss me off).

Strong, silent type.

Strong, silent type.

Naturally, I couldn’t leave them there one without the other. Yes, you heard that right.

Maybe I should just hold them? Maybe I should just try them on for size?

Maybe I should just hold them? Maybe I should just try them on for size?

SOLD.

SOLD.

Penny, the Queen of Sweet Faces Cat and Kitten Rescue about fell over when I told her I’d take all three of them (since I had rescued Clark and Cousin Eddie just a few months prior).

Negotiations.

Negotiations.

And just like that, I became even more famous for my love of pussy.

IMG_0513

I’m not sure who was most excited about getting to their new permanent mini manse home – the pussies or me.

Elsa Pants, Ruby Sue and Rocky. Two Griswolds and a princess on their way home.

Elsa Pants, Ruby Sue and Rocky. Two Griswolds and a princess on their way home.

Turns out, they were welcomed with furry Teddy Bear arms upon their arrival.

Settled in right away.

In order of importance according to Ted.

Naturally I’ve taken all kinds of shit for having four cats and chug, loving candles, reading and being single.

Daily occurrence.

Daily occurrence.

Fun gifts.

Appropriate gifts.

Friendly reminder.

Just doing what the advertisements that pop up on Facebook say!

But in the end, I really just don’t give a fuck because rescuing these babies has enriched not only their lives, they’ve helped save me. They’ve aided my sick little bear by assisting him to live on some love. And the company I keep is always feisty.

First Mate sent this to me one Saturday and I knew I’d finally made it as a Pussy Poster Child.

She said, “this just popped up on my feed and made me smile.”

IMG_1518

Now get on over to Sweet Faces Cat & Kitten rescue and stare into my smiling, happy face. And if you can’t adopt, why don’t you donate?

On a side note, I’m not allowed to go to Pet Smart when I’m upset. So if you see me headed that way….STOP ME.

Meeeeeeeow.

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Get a Kiss From a New Kid on the Block

I kissed a New Kid and I liked it…

New Kids on the Block made the Earth go ’round when I was a kid in the early ’90s.  So finding out a tour would be stopping in Nashville, how could I say no to a concert with Boyz II Men (who were utterly fantastic), 98 Degrees (eh, mid-tempo sucky songs but featured a very hot Nick Lachey) and NKOTB?

OMG! OMG! OMG! I think I see JOey!

OMG! OMG! OMG! I think I see Joey!

In order to stand out (or in my case, make a complete asshole of myself), dig your old concert t-shirt out and wear it proudly to the show (I can only wear t-shirts I did as a kid because I was a fat kid – that and my chest size has remained the same…lucky me!).

Bringing it back with vintage, baby.

Bringing it back with vintage, baby.

Once arriving to the arena, just scream your brains out while waiting for the dream boats to take the stage.

I couldn't stop singing to pose for a pic.

I couldn’t stop shrieking to pose for a pic.

Then the lights go down, the moment arrives and you act like you’re seeing The Beatles’ American debut.

Fab Five! OMG!

Fab Five! OMG!

Holy shit! They're here! we acted like we were seeing the Beatles American debut.

Holy shit! They’re here!

Because I have sharp joints, I was able to elbow my way up to the walkway and oogle over my new favorite New Kid (Joey – now with a grown up name of Joe has always been my favorite, as we were going to get married, live in Boston, have three kids and five dogs but for some reason, I’m falling a little short of that dream as I’m currently not married to him and the love of my life is a cat…hmm…) Donnie Wahlberg.

Donnie and his sparkly skull belt = my match made in heaven.

Donnie and his sparkly skull belt = my match made in heaven.

And then, it was further confirmed that we were destined to be together once I saw his abs.

And then, it was further confirmed that we were destined to be together once I saw his abs.

So as I jostled my way up to the barrier where NKOTB walked from the main stage to a stage in the middle of the crowd, I immediately hatched a plan to be a stand-out in a sea of 14,994 ladies (there were about 6 dudes in attendance that I could see).

What NKOTB member wouldn't appreciate a fuchsia lip? I had to stand out in the crowd of 14, 994 women.

What NKOTB member wouldn’t appreciate a fuchsia lip?

After you gussy yourself up, put on your nonchalant, I am not a super huge fan (although I’m currently wearing your face at 18 years of age on my t-shirt) face and wait for your selected NKOTB member to fall in love with you in one fateful glance.

Primped and ready to go! Oh Donnie!!!

Primped and ready to go! Oh Donnie!!!

And then, something truly amazing happened. As the New Kids were running through and slapping hands at the end of the show, I was patiently waiting for Donnie to look my way when, out of nowhere Jonathan Knight stopped right in front of me, put his hand behind my head, pulled me in and kissed me on the lips. Like kiss kissed (that is until my two girlfriends (Bitches! Stealing my moment!) cock blocked me and yanked him their way, which forced a security guard to pull my new love away from me).

This is what happened when gay lips hit mine. Isn't that just like a gay man to be considerate, thoughtful and bake sure confetti drops from the sky while kissing a needy fan?!

This is what happened when his lips hit mine. Wasn’t it sweet he arranged confetti to drop at the exact moment we were having our ‘moment’?

As I watched my new-found love being whisked away, I demanded to stay until he came back out and asked me to join him on the tour bus. But security got to my group first and pushed us out of the arena. F’ing guards doing their jobs. Ugh.

Being that I was on cloud nine (and still am calling and texting my friends daily to remind them of my encounter) all I could do while walking to the car was celebrate.

I KISSED JONATHAN!

I KISSED JONATHAN!

Then it dawned on me…I was just open mouth kissed by a man I can never have. No, not because I’m a bad kisser – because Jonathan is the gay man of the group. F! But wait, what woman doesn’t want a gorgeous gay man by her side, telling her how pretty she looks, what shoes go best with skinny jeans and a constant guide in the area of whether I need the push up bra or not.  I’m going to ask this man to marry me.

I think I went wrong in using the fuchsia lipstick to attract Donnie, as only a gay man can truly, truly appreciate the color. But it was fate.

Hey, did I tell you that I kissed Jonathan Knight from New Kids on the Block?

I’ll be sure to remind you of it again tomorrow.

CBXB

CBXB!