Weekend Winks – Wild Beer, Wild Times and Wild Pussies

Does anyone have a private jet so I can fulfill my niece’s request below? All she wants to do is play and paint her nails red with me. I promise that I will act like an ass because I’ve done so before while riding private.

Plus, just listen to her little voice. I’m considering driving through the night just to get a mani with her tomorrow. That’s not crazy is it?

Before trying to solicit my body for a plane ride to fulfill Princess B’s wishes, Dada CBXB and I stopped by Mr. Whisker’s Liquor in Nashville Friday for a tasting of Wild Ginger Alcoholic Beer and Wild Alcoholic Root Beer (both of which are gluten free).

Beer tasting with the Big Guy.

Big guy with a tiny cup.

Naturally, we almost cleaned out the supply before heading across the street to my beloved Dalts.

Greedy grab.

Greedy grab.

Dada lasted long enough to see Bird Lady and The Silent Indian.  We were asked to ‘keep it down’ before we were even inebriated –  I mean hell, I was still on my first Skinny Pirate!

A little too loud for the patrons with hearing aids. Surprise.

A little too loud for the patrons with hearing aids.

So to quiet ourselves down, we opted for tequila shots.

Tequila totally tones it down.

Tequila totally tones it down.

Speaking of surprise, I ran into one of my old bandmates and we reminisced about the days when we kicked some rock ass.

Bandmates reunite!

Reunited and it feels so good.

Sleeping off my Friday fun, someone could hardly contain their excitement for Saturday.

Jumping for Saturday joy!

I wish I had .0001% of this chick’s energy.

Mustering up the gumption to get out of my mini manse proved worthwhile as I got to see my cousin who was visiting from Atlanta on a weekend girls trip. While we had good intentions to make it a brunch, it also turned into lunch and almost supper.


Why thank you, we’ll have another.

Just there a teeny, tiny while.

Just there a teeny, tiny five hours.

In an attempt to detox, I slapped on a face mask and wanted to soak in the suds. But Ruby Sue had other ideas and ended up in the tub with me.

Jason and

A look-a-like Jason Voorhees and my stalker.

Wanting none of the water park action, Ted and his shadow Elsa Pants barely moved the entire evening.

Two peas on a purple pod.

Two peas on a purple pod.

We moved the party to the bedroom for a change of scenery. Mr. Bear made sure his spot was secure on my chest as he evil eyed the fuck out of Elsa and Rocky.

Triple show down.

Triple show down.

Ruby Sue, deeming herself princess of the mini manse declined the slumber party and sat in her color coordinating throne.

Princess bed for a princess.

Yes, her eyes are always that wide.

Judging from my Monday morning thus far, I’ll be drinking out of this coffee mug non-stop the next five days.

Looks like this is the kinda week I'll be having. At least I have the appropriate mug.


Here’s hoping this is a week where you have your shit together.






Pussy Pandemonium

Apparently being traumatized by another human being in a life altering event makes one feel the need to buy love. For me, acquiring affection isn’t in the form of old-fashioned hookers or new-fashioned Bumble (seriously, what is that?) but through the purchase of pussies. Three too many of them.

You see Mama CBXB thought it’d be a good idea to get my thoughts on something other than an ongoing police case, the fact I have no employment, the furball love of my life Ted developed a serious heart condition within two weeks and wanted to provide me some light life focus.

So she decided to buy me a kitten.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

How can you say no to this face?         You don’t.

First, I was leery. I mean Teddy is used to being the main attraction of all things CBXB (even though he shared the spotlight with our dearly departed, highly annoying but oh-so-loved New Cat for a bit). With that in mind, it was still end of story when we entered Pet Smart on what just happened to be National Adoption Weekend.

How much is that pussy in the window?

How much is that pussy in the window?

I don't hate this idea.

It didn’t take long for me to warm up to the idea.

Upon putting my hand in a pile of young pussies, I pulled out a sweet faced baby who was already dubbed Elsa. Being that the Iowa twins favor that princess most, I fell in love and this kitten hit the jackpot. All I needed to do was check the fuck out with my newest family member.

No name change for the Princess.

No name change for the Princess.

But then I stood up and was met with piercing green eyes peering out of a cage, staring so hard through my soul I could almost feel the two holes burned into my forehead.

You know you want me too.

You know you want me too.

I just had to get into the cage to see what was going on with this emerald eyed monster who immediately head butted my face, accompanied by a swift lick when I tried to crawl into the metal house with her.

Hi there. Care if I join?

Hi there. Care if I join?

Turns out this black beauty had an extremely shy brother sleeping in the back of the cage who wasn’t adapting well to being in a rescue. These four-year-old siblings were surrendered by some asswipe who decided they couldn’t care for them anymore.

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

I then decided to check all three of them out at once, testing the waters.

Totally under control.

Totally under control.

My arms of steel were able to squeeze all of the felines tight enough to keep them in my crazy cat lady grip just long enough to not triple second guess my decision to take them all.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

And just like that, the operator of Sweet Faces Cat & Kitten Rescue agreed to let me take the ‘triplets’ home to the mini manse, where Ted and Precious the chug unknowingly awaited the new arrivals.

Penny and her #1 customer.

Penny and her #1 customer.


MVP of the weekend.

MVP of the weekend.


What is about to happen?

What is about to happen?

In keeping with my love of all things Griswold family, I decided to name my newly obtained family members after Cousin Eddie’s kids.

Rocky - the strong, silent type.

Rocky – the strong, silent type.

Ruby Sue - possibly missing a brain cell or two.

Ruby Sue – possibly missing a brain cell or ten.

And as I said before, the baby remains Princess Elsa in honor of my Iowa twins.


They love animated Elsa. I love the fur ball version.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones.

The ride home from Pet Smart was eerily quiet with each cat in a newly purchased cardboard box (as I didn’t intend on coming home with any furry addition). Not a peep, meow, hiss, growl or howl was uttered.  And nothing was said as I introduced each new family member to Mr. Bear and Presh one by one. The transition from being a cray cray cat lady to borderline animal hoarder was smooth sailing for everyone.

Cautious cats.

Princess and King, cautious friends at first.


Warm and fuzzies after about four minutes.

Turns out, Tedstar likes being the big man in the mini manse – but refuses to acknowledge his contentment.

Butt buddies.

Butt buddies.

Nightly ritual.

Nightly ritual.

Brotherly love.

Brotherly love.

Mauling mania.

Mauling mania.

I know, I know, I’m thisclose to being a stereotypical cliché given the fact that I’m an unmarried, candle loving, drinks wine alone while watching sappy Lifetime movies and I live in a literal animal house. But guess what? I don’t give a fuck.

I inspired this action figure.

I inspired this action figure.

Nashvillians know me by name.

Famous among Nashvillians, obviously.


Let’s be honest – no one snickers behind my back because I have the type of family and friends who will ridicule me to my face with the hopes that I do not in any way shape or form turn into this woman…

Please intervene if it my situation gets this dire.

Please intervene if my situation gets this dire.

But you know, while I feel good about saving three more sweet souls in the end, I wonder who is really saving whom?


Can’t help but love the crazy, pussy pandemonium can you?





National Teddy B…er, I Mean Cat Day

It’s National Cat Day folks.

This is the biggest holiday of my year (don’t judge) as most of you know just how cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs I am about my pussy, Teddy B.  He’s the yin to my yang. The side to my kick. The “me” to my “ow”.   So in a dire attempt to make my furball love me all the more, I present you with an ode to the best bear on the planet…


Oh Ted you bring so much joy and good cheer,

Even when your piercing looks could kill.

Image 7

Always a sport when I dress you up,

Image 8

You never lose your cool when the costume fucks up.

Image 10

Cinco de Teddy was a highlight last year and

while I was sure we had matching sombreros,

Image 2

I’m pretty sure you were trying to figure out

how to pierce my heart with an arrow.

Image 1

Bunny ears aren’t your favorite as you made very clear,


So I made you a pirate, in which (I kinda think) you revered.

Image 25

Today is your day and in honor of you,

I will break out my finest kit cat attire.


I’ll be sure to slip on your favorite tie  –

before you try to murder me by hire.

Image 1

The night will be yours to do as you please.

Whether it includes Skinny Pirates, shots of Jell-O,

Image 10

or your favorite vino to help you chill and be mellow.


 Never once this year did you act blue

when we rescued New Cat

New Cat

and he permanently joined our crew.

Kitty Love

Celebrate you we will with all kinds of fun,

Image 24

As my Earth tends to revolve around your sun.

Image 14

Happy Teddy Bear Cat Day to all of our furiends!



While Mama Cat’s Away the Pussies Will Play

Ever wonder what your pets do while you’re away for a few days?

Where the hell do you think you're going?

Where the hell do you think you’re going?

The lead up to me leaving is always a dramatic experience around my mini manse with two fur balls in the mix.

New Cat (yep, still his name) acts as if the world is turning on its axis when I drag a suitcase out of the closet.

Nanna nanna boo boo. Stick your head in doo doo. Tongue lashing

Tongue lashing from the recent family addition.

Ted knows this drill all too well and tries to blend in with the clothes I’ll be packing.

Which one of these things is not like the other?

Which one of these is not like the other?

Mr. Ted E. Bear then acts as if his claws were going to be pulled out one by one with pliers while I’m away as he somehow acquires puppy dog eyes as I try to shut the door (and not feel guilty).

Good bye my love!

Good bye my love!

But all of that ‘woe is me’ bullshit quickly flies out the cat door when they hear the deadbolt click.

Tedstar insists on partying it up with feathers (compliments of my subtle decor) Christmas tinsel (surely found under the couch from December) and pink play things (naturally, as he’s my baby).

Disco party.

Hell breaking loose, disco style.

New Cat shows his inner wild child by shredding any and everything in sight.

Shredding party

Shredding stud.

While TB lives it up Nashville style by knocking back cold ones,

Tear in his beer.

Tear in his beer.

New Cat catches up on all things pop culture.

Gossip galore.

Gossip galore.

Thanks to our buddy The Wandering Poet, Ted is able to keep tabs on his Ma.

Stays current thanks to the Wandering Poet.

I’m pretty sure paws are over eyes at this point.

Not being able to bear the sight of Mom living it up without him, New Cat dramatically falls to the floor upon seeing any pic of me having fun while I’m away.

Playing possum for

Playing possum so well I think rigamortis almost set in.

When word spread that I’ll be arriving back home shortly, both eagerly await by the door (wrong door but still, I’m pretty sure they’re waiting on me and not longing to go out on the deck, right?).

Prisoners in a mini manse

Prisoners in a mini manse.

Once I make my grand entrance, Mr. Bear assists me with chores, so I’ll be able to plant my ass on the couch and snuggle ASAP.

Dry me.

Get your shit in here and let’s cuddle.

New Cat welcomes me in a very special way by making sure he leaves a lasting impression of what he thinks about me being gone.


Open the shades. NOW.

When I forget how high the cats prefer the shades on their front perch, I’m quickly reminded by NC.

Welcome home

Welcome home.

Luckily he can’t soar high enough to tear down the curtain rod but message clearly received by destroying my blinds.

Buy new shades. That'll teach me.

Leave town, come home and make immediate run to Home Depot.

Once the bad boy behavior subsides, it’s back to business as usual – clamoring for attention.

Business as usual

Luckily being mauled by pussies is one of my favorite pastimes.

Trying extremely hard to pretend there’s no love between them, my fellas end up like this on the couch exhausted from my trip away.

Love to pretend don't like. Instead of heart to heart...Ass to ass.

If laying ass to ass isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

Of course in the end, His Royal Highness The Bear insists on getting as close as humanly possible to remind me what I’ve been missing.

Missed at 2, 3:30, 5 and 6:15am.

One stiff neck coming right up.

Makes me wonder if I’ll every leave again…



How to Piss Off Your Pussy

Agreeing to look in on my neighbors trio of cats while they were away truly didn’t seem like a big deal. Until I had to tell my own feline, Teddy Bear that I was running an ‘errand’ every evening one week, interrupting our after work couch shenanigans (which consists of wine, TV, belly rubs and naps).


Where do you think you’re going?

Sneaking next door, I was surrounded by little balls of fur, excited for some much-needed attention.







Being a gal that always coos over anything with fur, I happily doled out love to the three cats lined up for my affection.

Triple threat to my happy home.

Triple threat to my happy home.

But then I found myself caught up in the situation, mirroring acts that Ted adores…like chin scratches.

Wallowing in CBXB's love

Wallowing in CBXB’s love.

And treating the felines to supper…

Treated them to dinner...

My dining companions.

I’m not sure why I thought I could sleuth around behind my bear’s back without him being suspicious. I could tell by TB’s shadow he was pissed upon my return home.

Suspicious minds...

Suspicious mind…with a curled tail to prove it.

As I went to scoop him up, I could barely see anything but pupils he was so angry.

WTF were you thinking? I KNOW.

What the F were you thinking? I KNOW.

Our typical snuggle became awkward very quickly.

No amount of buttering up was going to help.

Never light as a feather but definitely stiff as a board this go ’round.

Being ever the drama puss, Ted threatened to electrocute himself by licking the bathroom light switch.

He tried to be all dramatic and electrocute himself.

Over doing it, don’t you think?

When he decided it would be better not to acquire burnt fur, I was treated to plenty of his rear view.

Rear view...

Seems to translate as “kiss my ass Mom.”

In a sheer moment of genius, I knew what was going to bring my bear back around.


Ted’s version of kryptonite.

In less than two seconds, I had this fur ball eating tuna off of his favorite lip plate (I’d have tried the palm of my hand but wanted to keep all of my fingers in tact).

Lip service

Lip service.

Soon after we’d assumed our typical positions back on the couch.

Look of forgiveness?

Look of forgiveness…

or revenge...

or revenge?

We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?

Good deeds never go unpunished (at least when Mr. Bear is involved).