Weekend Winks – Abu Dhabi Derby Day

Ever wonder just how cliché it is to be a crazy cat lady?

Well, here is a peek into a wild Friday evening with me and my fave pussies.

You may just see two cats.

Rocky and Ted with front row lap seats.

We found ourselves minus plans after staying late the last day of the work week, so we huddled on the couch to catch up on some DVR (before my player spontaneously combusts at always being asked to remain 99% full). Except when we went to watch our weekly shows, a rerun of an Adele concert was on live TV.

But we're all watching live TV. A rerun A adele

And it captivated all of us.

Then between sobs, listening to Adele pine away at whatever it is her magical voice pines for, we tried to call every ex-boyfriend and girlfriend between the six of us (yes I have five furballs – and no, I give zero fucks about what folks think in regard, hence the crazy cat lady label!) because it seemed like the right thing to do.

Adele told us to.

S.O.S.

S.O.S.

After getting zero ex answers across the board (Teddy had the most to call), we woke to a bright, shiny Kentucky Derby Saturday. No one was more excited than Princess B who has discovered the many ‘looks’ Snapchat has to offer (why does my three-year-old niece know more about social media than moi?).

Derby Darling

Derby Darling.

I met up with Bird Lady, using the excuse for the Derby to day drink although we didn’t really adhere to any of the fancy rules.

No horses. No tiny jockeys. No hats. No mint juleps. Still fun

No horses. No tiny jockeys. No hats. No mint juleps.

However, I did place a bet on the race.  Since money is an object to me, I wagered a shot and when this kind gentlemen lost miserably, he paid in full. And now I have a new favorite shot: The Fresca.

I only bet booze. And I won.

I only bet booze.

And somehow this teeny tiny Abu Dhabi bar mug ended up in my purse by the end of the evening.

Trophy of sorts.

Trophy of sorts.

Sunday was for lovin’ on all of the mamas and mine was showered with flowers.

CBXB flower power mama.

The power of flower.

My sister was getting extra specially spoiled on her third mother’s day with a manicure, compliments of Princess B.

Princess B has mastered the Mother;s Day mani.

Just like the spa.

Obviously.

Obviously.

Bored Prince B waited patiently for the paint to dry on his mother’s nails so she could be off doing better things.

Can't be bothered.

Like pushing these two in a tire swing.

IMG_1754

Mother’s Day isn’t just for those chicks who have squeezed human life out of their bodies.

No way. No how.

Do you know how hard it is to open a bag of food every damn day?

Scoop a littler box?

Give every little furry being their own attention before they ignore you for 23.75 hours per day?

Exhausting.

Sweet friends reminded me of my status in the world.

Turns out, for us cray cray fur ball ladies, you really can buy love.

Turns out, you can buy love.

Preshy thinks so too.

Preshy thinks so too.

There was no better wind down for this mom of five than my sudsy Sunday soak while everyone was participating in their 23.75 hour daily ignore fest.

Just what a mama needs.

Just what a mama needs.

Here’s hoping you got just what you needed this weekend.

Cheers!
CBXB

CBXB!

 

Weekend Weeks – Redneck Style

The South gets a bad rap for people doing stupid things and I wanted to jump on the bandwagon this past weekend. Doesn’t it make sense to have a couple of cocktails and then get guns out of the closet?

Red neck? Fabulously trashy? Ultra stupid to give me a machine gun?

Redneck? Fabulously trashy? Ultra stupid to give me a machine gun?

First Mate and Mr. Mate recently got home from vacation, setting up shop in their front yard. Naturally, I needed to go and see what the hell they’d been up to so we convened at their palace Friday evening.

You can see why we're friends, right?

You can see why we’re friends, right?

After a few rounds of Skinny Pirates, Mr. Mate decided it’d be a good time to show me a gun he recently handcrafted. Smart, yes?

Palm trees, cactus and a horse...what more could one ask for?

Palm trees, cactus and a horse…what more could I need? A homemade machine gun, of course.

Billy Bad Ass.

You can stop holding your breath.  This piece wasn’t loaded.

This is heavy.

Reacting to the heaviness of this metal –  I could never be Rambo.

Photo bombing Mr. Mate as he was trying to have a pic snapped of him. I'm such a bitch.

Photo bombing Mr. Mate as he was trying to have a pic snapped of himself and his weapons. I’m such a bitch.

Since I consider myself a professional photo bomber, I always love to see the work of other PBs in action. Look what my friend’s dog did to her sweet baby…

Cute baby bombed by Spanky the dog.

Spanky the dog should probably be my side kick.

You know how my kit cat Teddy has been such a shit about the entire moving process we’ve been going through the last month and refused to snuggle with me for weeks on end? Look what I woke up to on Saturday morning.  A wet nose, a tiny smile and major purring. We’re back together again!

He's baaaaack1

All is forgiven. FINALLY.

After my morning love fest, I took my rear outside and revamped a tired, light green wicker chair I inherited from my folks. One coat of metallic silver and poof! New life for the old chair (hope my parents never want it back).

Never met a spray paint I didn't like

Never met a can of spray paint I didn’t love.

My ever-constant hero, Dad came in to remedy a slight problem in my laundry closet. A washer and dryer that won’t let the doors slide shut. Oops.

Dad to the rescue!

Dad to the rescue!

Who needs doors when you can hang a shower curtain? Holla!

Laundry hero!

Laundry hero!

While I was busy making my dad sweat away,  my little cuties from Iowa were having a pool party. Looks like my niece B is taking after her Auntie CBXB. She can ‘turn it on’ whenever she sees a camera. My nephew B on the other hand, can’t quite figure the damn contraption out.

Camera!

Camera!

What the what?

What the what?

First Mate pimped out Mr. Mate on Saturday evening for all kinds of hanging shit up fun at my new mini-manse.

Husband honey do for some other chick is any man's dream come true on a Saturday night.

Husband honey do for some other chick is any man’s dream come true on a Saturday night, right?

Our (his) efforts were a huge success, as we got my ‘piece de resistance’ mirror up, centered perfectly (I had nothing to do with that) on the wall. Celebrate!

We wanted to capture the spirit of Johnny Cash. Did we do it?

We wanted to capture the spirit of Johnny Cash. Did we do it?

All of the bossing around on Saturday evening really wore me out, so on Sunday I busted a move up to the pool and there was no one else there!

Peaceful pool.

Private pool.  That’s how I roll.

Upon my return to the mini manse, I was greeted with water dripping out of my bathroom light fixture. You can imagine how thrilled I was – especially since this is the second leak I’ve had in less than a month.

Leaks are fun. Especially when you've had two in 30 days. Neat.

Leaks are fun.

Before using the saucepan above for a tiny swimming pool, I made my second supper in the new place. Skinny spaghetti, which inadvertantly ended up looking like Mickey Mouse.

Which strangely ended up looking like Mickey Mouse.

Sorry Minnie.

Ted remains completely famfoozled over the noises coming from above him (you know, neighbors walking around), so he parked it on the bar for the remainder of the weekend to de-stress.

Taking after his mother.

Taking after his mother.

Cheers to a fabulous week!

CBXB

CBXB!