My Viral Birthday

Holy fucking shit.

The tornado that ripped through middle Tennessee wasn’t even one month ago.

While the region was reeling, the global pandemic made its debut the day after the tornado with the first confirmed diagnosis in the state.

Now, I know many folks who showed up in droves to volunteer after the tornado are starting to test positive for COVID. I think this is largely due to the massive amount of good humans who showed the fuck up to help neighbors after a natural disaster. Since then, the Coronavirus has thwarted a lot of the efforts being made by organizations, supplies, volunteers, hard-hit businesses, etc.

But here we are in the throes of a global pandemic and we all have a fucking front row seat. My VIP ticket happened to include my first ever birthday in quarantine.

Oh hi! You feel like celebrating with people now? Too bad.

Since Rapegate, I would have been down to par-tay in isolation on past birthdays.

But not this year. Oh no. This is the first year where the bitch is baaaack to finding all things joy and ready to celebrate the entire year month week day. So I did just that in spite of a fucking global pandemic. I celebrated my face off.

We partied and Prissy force loved it.

While the circumstances were not the most epically fabulous, my peeps far and wide celebrated with me. Boston Barbie had a bottle of champs with me via FaceTime and sent a pizza for supper.

Quarantined prezzies were sent and loved hard.

Text messages and social media wishes kept a smile on my face.

First Mate tapped on my window and brought her own airplane sized bottle (is that what they are really called?) of fancy vino over and poured it into her own glass.

I almost burnt down the Mini Manse baked my own gluten-free birthday cake. While it was not on the top ten (or top 100) sweets I’ve ever tasted, it went down the hatch like a charm (I think it was because of all the sprinkles). Please feel free to spoil my hips after this shitshow is over with all of the gluten-free goodies. I won’t hate it.

Look the fuck out Martha Stewart.

While I’m now certain I can star in my very own baking show of failures (waiting for the phone to ring cooking channel), my gal pal in Scotland came up with an acronym for “when all this is over” – WATIO – and posed the question on her Instagram.

What I want even more WATIO, is for you and your loved ones to be alive, healthy and ready to celebrate your faces off with me on my half birthday bash on September 25, 2020.

Until then, stay the fuck home. Let’s make my half birthday party go viral for reasons other than a worldwide pandemic.

Love ya, mean it.

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Join the Mile High Club

How do you join the Mile High Club?

You go to Denver, CO. Get your minds out of the fucking gutter.

My birthday has been never-ending this year (sorry not sorry to those who’ve been forced lucky enough to celebrate endlessly with me), and one of my gifts was a trip to Denver from Van Waffles.

Poor, poor me.

Being the spoiled biatch that I am, the vacay commenced with bloody marys at the ass crack of dawn in the airport.

Time doesn’t exist in airports.

There’s something about the heinous Nashville airport carpet that is a “thing” to local peeps. A shop even sells t-shirts about this beautiful floor accessory. Naturally, I had to join in on the social media fun.

Upon landing, we headed to our hotel downtown (Denver, what the fuck is up with your airport being 35 miles outside of the fucking city?). It was a sunny, 70 degree day that was just perfection. As soon as we left to explore the downtown, I somehow made a wrong turn but in such a right way.

My Mothership.

Yes. I came all the way to Colorado to shop in a Target because I’ve never been in my Mothership that was located in a downtown setting with no parking lot. I mean, it’s all about new life experiences, isn’t it?

Target in the heart of downtown.

Once Van Waffles was able to drag me out of the store that I just scoured the day before in Nashville (they have the same items in case you’re wondering which I’m sure you aren’t but now you know) it was time to enjoy pink wine in the sunshine.

A perfect day for rosé.

We then made our way to a shuttle that transported us to the famous Red Rocks amphitheater for a 311 concert.

I sure the fuck didn’t know what I was about to embark.

I was warned not to wear heels to Red Rocks. I listened. I was warned that it was “quite a walk” to the venue. I practiced hills at my local park in Nashville. But I still almost died (or so I thought) on the way up to that motherfucking theater.

The worst part was being sweaty, thirsty and having to stop to take a piss in the middle of my mountain climb in a hot, humid, stank ass port-a-potty. I’d never wished I had a penis more in my whole life as I tried to stand to pee over the gaping hole of other people’s waste (you know the feeling).

Mouth breathing.

Low and behold, much to Van’s bleeding ears, after all of my bitching…

As soon as I got to the fucking top of the mountain, my iWatch buzzed. I was certain that it might explode from my activity during the climb but alas it was just reminding me that I hadn’t come close to closing my step (in red) or exercise (in green) rings. And I’d had this watch on since 4:30am.

I work out a lot. Obvies.

What I do work out on a regular basis? My biceps. And by the time I spied the wine line, all was right in the world.

Workout more my speed.

All in all the weather was perfect, the band was killer and the night was fabulous.

If you ever get the chance to see a show at this venue, GO. But maybe watch my coaching videos above for reference before you attempt to mountain climb unless of course you’re in shape. Then it’ll be easy breezy for you.

When the concert was over, I walked down the mountain like I was a 94-year-old woman recovering from a hip replacement surgery. Mostly this was due to the fact that I fall down like it’s my day job and I’m not sure how much more my joints can take before I need a true knee, hip, ankle, elbow, and wrist replacement surgery.

Me: Sorry we’re having to walk down so slowly. (Literally taking left foot and stopping. Letting right foot catch up)

Van Waffles: It’s OK. Nobody knows us here.

Me: That’s so sweet fucking true.

After consuming every drop of water in the hotel (along with every bag of potato chips and maybe a Snickers bar because I got contact high from the legal marijuana smoked at the show) I woke up Saturday hacking like I’d been a lifelong smoker.

I soon got my act together because I had told my college bestie, Tdawg, that I would take her yoga sculpt class at Core Power Yoga where she instructs. She was picking me up at 10am and being that I take hot yoga, have taken many sculpting classes, I incorrectly assumed I was up for this challenge after a night out and a mountain hike.

Pre-yoga excitement.

Upon arriving, the serene yoga room had a reminder on the door.

Just what I need after a mountain climb.

Then Tdawg came in and blasted old school Nelly…”Andele andale moma E.I. E.I. uh oh!”

Uh fucking oh was right. She didn’t teach a power sculpt yoga class. She instructed a Jane Fonda on crack cardio class with a few yoga moves thrown in here and there while the room was heated. No big deal. This was just the second time I thought a workout was going to be the death of me in Colorado in a matter of 24 hours.

Yoga Barbie and a sweaty pig in a blanket.

Keeping everyone updated via Instagram stories, Sister CBXB kindly asked if we’d be partaking in our favorite college past time.

Not drinking.

Not doing drugs.

Yes. Embossing cards. We would stay in our dorm on the weekends and fucking craft homemade greeting cards. We were beyond cool.

Obvies.

Heading to her house after class to meet her offspring and hubs, she informed me that I am doing a fabulous job educating the youth of America.

Oh be still my beating heart. This is truly one of the highest honors of my life. Teaching kids the F-bomb and S-word is basically my equivalent to winning the Nobel Peace Prize.

Tdawg’s hubs, Cdawg was celebrating his birthday and when he offered me a mimosa to start his celebratory weekend, who was I to turn him down?

My Uber descended to their house and both the Dawgs could not have been more gracious, offering me a full-to-the-brim roadie I happily accepted. “Hopefully one day you’ll come out of your shell,” Cdawg’s dad said as I doled out departing hugs.

Shyness doesn’t become her.

Next up? I showered, gussied up in my finest sequins to meet a friend who until today was only a virtual friend. She’s a fellow blogger who lives in Boulder and when I reached out to let her know about my last second trip, she was available to meet! IN PERSON! When does this happen?

It’s Viv in the flesh!

We’ve been virtual friends for almost six years and she’s known me before the twins, before Rapegate, before losing my music business career…so it’s like we knew each other because we did. It just took it to an entirely new level being in the flesh. Best long lunch date ever.

I told her I didn’t smoke at the concert the prior evening because I don’t like smoking but maybe I would try an edible while in Denver. She said if I did, to nibble on the ear of a gummy bear because peeps usually over do it (and let’s be honest, I could eat a bag of regular gummy bears, so eating just the ear off of one would seem like an underperformance on my end).

After lunch, she sent me this very ominous meme.

I chose not to edible.

Avoiding edibles proved to be the best possible thing because I wanted to keep my eyes open to meet up with yet another gal pal SS. Our mammas were sorority sisters in college and we were childhood friends. I hadn’t seen her since 4th fucking grade.

Not much has changed since we were 10…

Then we went and met up with the rest of the Nashville crew.

Hanging with the gang.

Although I didn’t get high, just mostly drunk, I still had the munchies on the way back to the hotel and it was very upsetting when passing a gluten-free bakery that was closed. I handled it like a lady.

I was just trying to fuel up for the flight home, which was occurring in a matter of hours after our night out.

Too many people before coffee, a bloody mary and 6am.

Best part about the early flying is I got to sit by the Easter Bunny and I scored her phone number!

Furever friends. For real.

Immediately upon arrival home in Nashville, I got a bloody nose that was the gift that just kept on giving all goddamn day long.

Dry Denver air don’t care.

Once the door to the Mini Manse opened, Van Waffles looked at me and said in all seriousness, “is your birthday over now?”

What the fuck do you think?

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Seductive Skinny Spaghetti

Looking to wow the pants off your Valentine while not feeling like a beached whale?

Avoid the bloated feeling that accompanies over consumption of traditional pasta by substituting noodles with spaghetti squash.  Yes, I said substitute pasta with a vegetable.

I thought this was a ridiculous idea until I tried it (as I was looking for ways to keep my skinny jeans buttoned) and realized that I could do without the over processed ingredient .

Skinny Sketti

Here’s what you’ll need:

  • One Spaghetti squash – I had to ask where the hell they were located at my grocery
  • Choice of meat (if desired)
  • Your favorite Italian sauce (I use canned – but low sodium!)
  • Choice of cheese (if your heart beats for dairy like mine does.)
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This is what the vegetable I had no idea existed looks like.

Prep:

  • Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
  • Microwave the squash for about a minute.  This will make it loads easier to cut and save your hand strength for opening that tightly sealed jar of sauce (that I have to ask the grocery clerk to open for me before I leave the damn store because I have zero hand strength).
  • Cut the substitution spaghetti lengthwise.

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  • Once cut, scoop the seeds out of the middle .
fork or spoon

If you forget this step (as I ALWAYS do) you can remove after cooking – no worries.

Slippery Sucker

Be sure to hold on tight because squash are slippery little suckers.

  • Once seeds have been removed, place halves on a cooking sheet.
  • Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, depending on the size of your gourd.

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  • Cool for a few minutes and use a fork to create noodles.

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  • Place your ‘spaghetti noodles’ in a bowl.

Spaghetti Sizzle

  • While your sketti is baking start on the non-strenuous sauce by pouring it in a pan and adding your choice of veggies and/or meats.
Free Bird

Typically, I add FreeBird chicken breast strips that can be found at Whole Foods (low in sodium and calories).

  • Mix sauce and cooked meat, bring to a boil.

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Once complete, serve immediately with or without cheese.

Voila!

Due to the non-pasta spaghetti, I treat myself with a handful of mozzarella on top.

This cheesy version of sexy spaghetti will cost $10 (more or less depending on the meat), is gluten-free and has about 260 calories, 20 carbs and 11 grams of sugar overall per serving.

Just might wow the pants off of your Valentine!

Use reduced fat cheese to keep it on the ‘skinny’ side.

Now get out there in all your skinny glory and seduce someone.

CBXB

CBXB!

Jell-O Shot Jigglers

Jiggle while you wiggle.

Jiggle while you wiggle.

So, I almost had a heart attack of sorts when perusing the aisles of my fave grocery store in Iowa a few weeks ago when laying my eyes on a box that not only boasted my fave college team, it also contained a mold kit for Jell-O. I almost knocked the entire display down (as well as the few people in my way) trying to get over to this genius in a box merchandise.

Genius in a box.

No one was hurt in the purchase of this Jell-O Jigglers Mold Kit.

Why, it’s just Jell-O in a form resembling my alma mater you say?

To you, yes.

To me, no.

As I am a lover of all things alcoholic, I’m known for never hosting a party that doesn’t include Jell-O shots. Even my family treats Jell-O shots as tradition, having them at all family gatherings (classy, we know).

Hell, even Ted is a fan of spiked jiggly Jell-O.

Teddy approved.

Pussy approved party shots.

Seeing that I could concoct a gelatinous shot for tailgates every Saturday in celebration of my college football team, I couldn’t wait to get back to Nashville and prepare (so excited in fact that I lugged this mold kit in my carry on just in case my luggage got lost and had in-depth discussions with TSA agents when passing through airport security about how cool I was in doing so).

The $4.99 kit includes two mold trays and four boxes of coordinated-with-your-school-colors Jell-O.

Here’s what it takes to make two trays, which gives you 24 ‘shots’:

1 box of Jell-O

Your choice of vodka (in lieu of water)**

Cooking spray

Vodka not included in the box of happy.

Vodka not included in the box of happy.

**For lighter shots, you can do a half water and half vodka recipe.**

Unless you’re like me and have zero math skills (thanks to Scooby, I cheated my mathematical way to graduation from 9th grade on – sorry Mrs. Book – because like all kids I never thought I was really going to use anything other than addition in life but unbeknownst to me, I’d needed mad math skills when perfecting my shot recipes. Shit hooks).

What the fuck is half of 2/3 cup? WHAT?

What the fuck is half of 2/3 cup? What? WHAT?

So when your brain houses zero calculating skills of any kind, use all vodka in the recipe.

To prepare:

Spray the inside of molds with cooking spray

Hawkeye

Use your finger to get the cooking spray into the nooks and crannies of the mold or they’ll turn out less than perfect.    Trust me.

Then boil the water/vodka concoction and dissolve the Jell-O powder. Transfer liquid from cooking pan to a measuring cup (or anything that allows you to pour easily).

Pour

Fill molds and refrigerate three hours.

Instructions from the box will tell you to run a knife along the edges of your molds once the Jell-O has set. This method didn’t work so well (and was going to make my Hawkeye mascot look like it’d been mauled by a bear) Mama CBXB (genius shot maker, mind you) suggested placing the cool molds in a few centimeters of warm water and then use a toothpick to loosen the edges.

Hot soak in the sink wise words from Mama.

Coaxing the Jell-O to cooperate.

A hot soak in the sink (and my clean-until-I-licked-it-after-personally-guiding-each-shot-out-of-its-mold finger) did the trick.

Jiggling goodness.

Jiggling goodness.

Being that popping the little suckers out of the tray can be tricky (and a tad messy since you used cooking spray), distribute them on a paper towel, then move to a serving tray.

Hit of the party...

And boom. Hit of the party.

Field goal fanatics.

Papa approved.

While Dad and I stuck to our touchdown tradition of moonshine shots, the Jell-O shot jigglers can be a substitution for those who’d like to keep their wits about them on a Saturday.

Moonshine shot substitution for those who'd like to keep their wits about them on a Saturday.

Moonshine exchange for fraidy cats.

To see if Jell-O gives a rat’s ass about your favorite college team, click here.

Not into sports? How about a holiday?

I found this handsome party treat at Target over the weekend.

Halloween fun.

Spooky creature kit.

Obviously, you can make these gelatinous treats with no alcohol.

But now how is that any kind of fun?

Jiggle it. Just a little bit.

CBXB

CBXB!

Bewitching Breakfast Burritos

Finding myself with a last-minute invitation to a Tennessee Titans tailgate turned into a horror show more quickly than anticipated, as I was under prepared in my own personal grocery department. And you can’t show up to a party empty-handed now, can you?

While rummaging through the fridge, freezer and pantry (which typically house condiments, vodka and expired cereal) I came up with a solution to my meager problem when I spied non-molded corn tortillas.

Which resulted in a first time attempt at breakfast burritos…

Tailgating tasties at their finest.

Early game day tailgating tasties at their finest.

Here’s what I found (and what you’ll need) to concoct a similar potion…

  • Whatever kind of meat you find in your freezer (I ran into a half package of sausage)
  • Green pepper (if you have one…I have no idea how the F one found its way into my fridge)
  • Five non-expired eggs (plus a bit of milk if you have it or you can use water)
  • Shredded cheese (leftover from last year’s chili. I’m kidding…kind of)
  • Tortillas
Fry the sausage separately.

Start by frying your choice of meat.

Peppers

In a separate skillet, saute the green peppers.

Add the egg mixture

Mix the eggs with about 1/4 cup of milk and add to the peppers.

Add the sausage to the mix.

Add the sausage to the mix.

 And then the cheese.

Once the eggs are almost set, top with shredded cheese.

Pick your poison. Personally, I'd reach for the skull....

Scoop the mix onto tortillas. Roll. Then devour.

Of course, I also had the ingredients for Jell-O shots which made me one popular tailgater. I mean, what washes a bewitching breakfast burrito down the hatch better than vodka and gelatin? Nothing.

What washes a bfast burrito down?

BOOzin’ it up spooky style.

You know I like to keep it classy.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!