Spooktacular Sidekicks

Oh Halloween, how I’ve always loved thee. The 31st day of October was – and still remains – the kick-off to a long-awaited holiday season for me.

I'll cut a bitch
I’d still cut a bitch.
With an assist from my dad.
Letting Dada CBXB (you know, the guy who dresses up like Pam Anderson) do all of the carving work because even way back my nails were “jewels, not tools”.

In a small Iowa town where I was raised, we had costume parties at school and church (when you used to be able to call it a Halloween party complete with witches and bats, instead of a fucking bland Fall Festival with scarecrows and hay bales – why are there fun haters? Why?), parades to prance proudly down our eight block Main Street (where every single one of the 1,200 citizens showed up) and so much trick-or-treating mania, I’d have to come home halfway through the evening just to dump my candy (hiding it all from my dad in the dryer or it’d be gone by morning) because my pumpkin got so overloaded, it was too heavy for me to carry.

hall
Forget my adorableness for one second – what about the clown behind #165?
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A spectator sport for the entire town where I could show off my killer cookie wheels.

In my younger years, I carried the burden of celebrating Halloween by myself and being a lone Cookie Monster got frustrating.

Ho Hum
One is the loneliest number.

Begging my parents to procreate, I was presented with Sister CBXB (you know, the one who called my dad a goddamn son of a bitch at the age of four) who was immediately awarded with side kickin’ it as my lifetime partner-in-crime (lucky her). If I was going to be dressing up (oftentimes making an ass out of myself in later years) she was going to be doing it too, by god (town parades included).

In the beginning of our twosome, we were all about cutesy costumes.

Sugar'n' Spice
The rock star and Raggedy Ann. A little sugar for my spice.

The ‘cute’ theme seemed to carry on in our early years.  Except for the tilt in our heads…and the fog in the background…and the overall sinisterness of this photo.

Creepy Hollow
Cute masked crusaders in Creepy Hollow.

As we grew older, I wanted a little edge (well as much edge as an elementary kid and toddler could muster) to our giddy ups. I let my young inner badass out, as my sister scared the pants off no one as a two-headed monster, um, farmer?

very busy
That’s right. I was hardcore even in elementary school.

We slid slightly into the ghoulish department as my sidekick joined me in grade school.

Scardey Crow
Scaredy crow and premature mini old man. Almost spine-chilling. Almost.

Then I graduated to truly frightening and fearful territory as I crept toward junior high.  Pebbles was not impressed.

Pebs
I’m also starting to wonder if there was any other color of hair paint than green, since that tends to be a trend here.

When we thought we were oh so grown up, our costumes reflected our mature attitudes.

Lady and the Tramp.
Lady and the Tramp. Or Princess and Sock Hop Girl…however you want to see it.

We were reminded in following years just how far from adults we were…especially yours truly. A recycled mask and costume from a previous Halloween hid my “I’m way too old for this shit” attitude toward trick-or-treating when I was forced to go with my younger sister in the eighth grade.

Barley a Boo
I can’t tell who’s more excited – the monster or the witch.

And being older we’re not so much cute, cuddly or even scary creatures…we’re just mostly cocktailed.

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The odd couple. Pocahontas and Kid Rock.

Now that we’re miles apart during the costuming time of year, it’s fun to look back at our sisterly ghosts of Halloweens past. But what’s even more fun is seeing her twin goblins growing to love the holidays as much as she and I did as kids.

Scary season #1.

As
Permanent partners-in-crime.

Scary season #2.

I know, I know. The cutest fucking dog and cat you've ever seen.
I know, I know.
The cutest fucking cat and dog you’ve ever seen.

Scary season #3.

Princess Leah and Yoda
Star Wars at its silliest.

Scary season #4.

A mermaid with her super hero.

Scary season #5.

Captain America and a Princess Peacock.

Scary Season #6.

Lloyd the LEGO ninja and a bitchin’ witch.

Scary Season #7.

No matter how you choose to spend Halloween, here’s to having a side kickin’ ghoul for your spooky festivities.

Happy Haunting!

CBXB

CBXB!

Meowloweens from Halloweens Past

If you think stuffing pets in costumes is ridiculous, you’re gonna wanna divert your eyes.

The fur ball love of my life, Ted E. Bear has been gone for two years now. I couldn’t love any of my Pussy Posse more if I birthed them myself (and yes, I mean that with all of my fucking heart) but Teddy…Tedstar was THE ultimate love of my life. I would give almost anything to have him back with me although I know he’s mauling my Gma, Aunt Crazy Pants, Precious, New Cat and Nicodeamus up above not patiently awaitng my arrival.

When Mr. Bear and I first became connected, he had such a nervous disposition, it took almost two years of work to let me hold him (talk about being careful what you wish for). Once that happened, he was my shadow and I didn’t hate it. So when the art of dressing pets entered my mind, I had some ideas.

His looks could kill. So maybe a bodyguard costume was in order?

The stare that gazed through souls.

Ted always liked to be in control (obvies my baby), so when we’d road trip, he insisted on being in the driver’s seat. So maybe a truck driver costume?

Jesus Teddy take the wheel.

Dental hygiene isn’t something that pussies are fond of but then again, TB was no average feline. And being that we shared everything, he always used my toothbrush. So maybe a dentist costume?

Pearly whites.

Cheese.

Then there was the time I considered how much time I was spending watching my fave TV show, Forensic Files, as Ted mimicked a crime scene. He did this by jumping off the porch into a neighboring bush, leaving an outline of his body and himself ferociously confined to the bottom branches. The removal process should have been filmed for Forensic Files, as you can imagine how calm and tranquil and non dramatic a stuck cat can be.

Maybe a kitty CSI agent costume?

I slowly started introducing props to our costuming atmosphere. I began with a simple cowboy hat, as we lived in Nashville, the home of country music. He really loved it. So much so, he had the hat on for .000000000002 seconds.

Yeefuckinghaw.

After the western attire was a success, why not take it even more south of the border with a sombrero and poncho?

Mad hombre.

Since he obvies loved gussying up, I went out on a limb one Halloween and turned him into a member of the Apidae family, a bee.

Buzz.the.fuck.off.

Not so honey lickin’ good.

I had so much past success, the following year, I decided to not only gussy Ted up but join in on the fun with him. Why couldn’t I do a couple’s costume with my cat? That’s not weird. At all.

We went as Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke. This was after Miley casually dry humped Robin in front of the world on live television at the MTV Music Awards earlier that year.

No gyrating here.

While it may look like I easily capture award winning selfies, about 8,325,910 photos were taken (I had to take resting breaks for my arm) in order to get the money shot.

Blurred lines.

Tongue lashing.

If Ted could wear sunglasses, he could certainly don a wig, right? The following Halloween, he was the Princess Leia to my Darth Vader.

Ted, I am your mother.

It was super easy getting him into wardrobe.

He don’t want none unless he gets his buns, Hon.

While we didn’t know it was our last time for dress up together, our Batman theme was our best Halloween ever.

Catman.

We’d taken in a sidekick, a cat I found at the dumpster (now that I think about it, I find a lot of fucking things at my dumpster…) and refused to give a name because I didn’t want to keep him even though we all know what happened. He stayed. And kept the name New Cat.

Poor New New had all kinds of anxiety and instead of audibly sighing so loudly the neighbors could hear like Bear, he preferred to hiss and bat his declawed paws at me (people who declaw animals and then dump them have a special place in hell) in defense of looking like a dressed up asshole.

A forced Robin.

Batman, Catwoman and Robin together furever about a split second.

Wishing they had superhero powers to use on their super whack job mama.

Robin’s revolt.

Upon New Cat’s divaesque behavior, Bear and I cuddled up only as a not-awkward-at-all mother and son duo could for our Halloween photo.

Purrfect pair.

I can almost hear the heavy sighs from Ted above right now. Only this time instead of being from forced costume insertion, they’re signs of relief. He was always such a little bitch.

Happy Meowloween!

CBXB!

 

Happy Hallow-meowi!

This time of year has become bittersweet, as I am severely missing my Mr. Ted E. Bear , because I’m bat shit crazy enough to dress pussies up in costume. And we’d have been in costume today. In an ode to the fur baby that I may as well have birthed myself, here are a few of my past faves.

Since Tedstar was beyond high maintenance (just like his mama) he was immune to catnip – the magic in which I thought would work to ease him into costumes. Instead, turns out a sniff of wine worked just as fine (again with the birthing thing).

Ahh….relaxing vino.

We first got into the idea of Halloween costuming after seeing Ted’s cousin, Gunner, in a bee’s outfit.

I mean c’mon, doesn’t he look cozzzzzeee?

They immediately became twinsies much to Ted’s dismay.

FOR FUCKING REAL?

Even though the Bear didn’t last long enough for a night full of Halloween thrills, I was happy with the outcome.

Ted, not so much.

Buzzed out.

The following year, Teddy Krueger and I not only acquired a new mini manse but also a partner in crime for him – New Cat. The idea of wrapping my arms around two costumed cats didn’t seem like a huge feat until I tried.

Fuck you. Fuck these masks. Fuck being your cat.

Turns out, Ted was used to being the star of the show and I’m pretty sure he pushed New Cat out of the shot.

Only room for one star. Beat it.

As always, the Bear was right. We made such a dashing duo.

Tedstar shining bright.

The following year I was racking my brain as to what Baby Bear and I could be…and then, Miley Cyrus inappropriately grinded on Robin Thicke’s thighs at the MTV Video Music Awards. Voila!

My favorite Halloween photo ever was captured (mind you, this was a one handed selfie – yeah, I have MAD skills). Thank you for your slightly bananas year, Miley.

The photoshoot was one helluva shit show , as purrfecting this pic took 4,791 tries but it was waaaaaaay worth the outcome.

Our last Halloween together, we went as the ultimate Star Wars duo (or at least the duo of costumes I could find – mine was an XL dog’s outfit).

It’s too soon to tell which of my fabulous foursome of current pussies will come to my costume rescue next year.

But I doubt any of them will let me get as handsy as Ted did. While I miss him something terrible, the memories of Halloween’s past are making me smile.

We so would have been Neegan and Rick from The Walking Dead this year.

Rest in peace Baby Bear.

CBXB

 

 

 

Weekend Winks – a Fat Ass, Sports and a Party

CBXB invaded Kansas City this past weekend to visit Scooby and Mr. Scooby in the event of a Halloween par-tay!

Besties

How besties pick up besties at the airport.

You know how else loves of my life fulfill me? By picking up every single container of Anderson Erickson party dip (’cause I can’t get it in Nashville) so I could eat my weight in chips and dip over the weekend.

How besties prep for fat ass bestie's arrival.

How besties prep for fat ass bestie’s arrival.

And this immediately happened upon entrance into their apartment.

I was already on my second carton.

Already on my second carton.

While Scoobs was still on his first bottle of wine.

Slow guzzle.

Slow guzzling is an embarrassment.

Being full on dip and wine, we thought it was a fabulous idea to go play sports because this is our area of expertise we needed a laugh.

Gay golfers.

Gay golfers on the prowl.

My technique failed me.

My multi-tasking technique failed me.

While non of us will be joining any sort of golfing league, PGA tour or country club anytime soon, we sure looked k-ute playing, didn’t we?

Foursome fun!

Foursome fun!

Speaking of fun, what about my Iowa twins visiting preschool already? Preschool?!?!

Preschool visit. Sniff.....sniff...

Shit’s getting real seeing this little lady bug and monkey growing up.
Sniff…..sniff…sniff…

Taking their visit seriously, it was all reading after the school visit.

Brushing up on their reading skills, so excited! Books in a basket.

Books, baskets and a dog in dire need of a brush.

While Prince and Princess B were busy educating themselves, I was engaged in unpacking my precious costume cargo.

Shoving shit into my suitcase.

In need of some Halloween TLC.

The games began as the stuffing process commenced, which took a nice long hour to finish.

Beauty

Definitely not a beauty this Halloween – went for the beast.

Arriving to the party with over 20 pounds of quilt batting between my skin and the outside world, I had to take a few breathers outside to catch my breath. And the age range at this party was from about 18 to 70, so not only did folks get I was the Stay Puft Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters, some dumb fucks thought I was the Pillsbury Doughboy.

No, I'm not the fucking Pillsbury doughboy you young funk!

And dumb dumber fucks thought I was the fucking Michelin Man.

But I think our foursome nailed it!

Who ya gonna call?!

Who ya gonna call?!

Naturally I needed assistance with my gulping because my arms wouldn’t make it up to my face, as they were overly stuffed.

Assisted drink.

Mr. Scooby is hired as my drinking assistant.

Prince and Princess B greeted Sunday with my exact sentiments.

Just as tired as this marshmallow.

Just as tired as their auntie marshmallow.

As soon as I landed in Nashville, I nestled down with my favorite pussy.

Nestled.

Ted proclaiming his Halloween piece.

Here’s hoping the rest of your week is filled with spooks and spirits!

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Turn Your Dad Into Pamela Anderson

This post is a ghost from a Halloween past…but couldn’t resist sharing this season.

A few Halloweens ago I was dying to dress up as Kid Rock and needed a trashy Pamela Anderson to hang all over me. And when my boyfriend at the time refused and because my dad is no stranger to the spotlight (and always my hero) he leaped at the chance.

But how in the hell do you transform a 6’4″ man into a petite (OK, not happening), blonde, big busted bombshell?

You start feet first.

Heavy duty gloves for a heavy-duty job.  My dad has a green toenail (because he’s too cheap to buy the prescription to remedy) that I lovingly refer to as Foot Fungus (hence the gloves).

Carefully apply polish to the gigantic toes.

I’m hoping the heavy-duty gloves ward off Foot Fungus from jumping on my body.

Which are then topped off with an orange bow (to make those feet look a teeny tiny bit more feminine).

The bow helps….kinda.

A base for the famous face must be applied as the transformation continues (the application of foundation “hurt his face,” according to the cross dresser).

Pre-Pam obviously isn’t in tune with the “must suffer to be beautiful” saying.

Stuffing Pamela into her costume proved the most difficult task of all.

Even the largest bra found at Walmart had to have velcro extenders added in order to get the damn thing to clasp.

But by God, she ended up looking like a fabulous Baywatch knock-off.

Prettiest Man Pam ever. Right?

Pam’s famous rack was made by stuffing as much quilt batting as possible into nylons. I dyed a men’s tank top red (because I could not find a women’s XXXL) and applied masking tape to create the Lifeguard logo.  I scored the checkered shorts in the very big ladies section at Walmart (go figure), topping the man Pam off with a blonde wig. And that’s how you transform your studly father into a sex pot.

Now all Pamela needed was her handsome rock star flavor at the time, Kid Rock.

This union will totally last. A year.

With the complete transformation in place, Pam was (happily, excitedly, thrilled to be) the center of attention.  She tended to overshadow even the most glamorous celebrities at the party.

Where’s Marilyn?

And everyone was completely obsessed with Pam’s chest.

Just to give you an idea…

Hugh Hefner couldn't even believe his eyes.

Hugh Hefner couldn’t even believe his eyes.

Cher wa

Cher was beyond excited to rest her weary head on Pam’s gigantic chest.

Even a dude who knew that this Pam was was a dude couldn't help but motorboat.

Even a dude who knew that this Pam was a dude couldn’t help but motorboat.

Even though this real life odd couple went on to hit the skids, Kid and Pam were able to let bygones be bygones this particular Halloween.

Is my dad fun or what?

And while this may not be the Pamela Anderson of everyone’s dreams, she’s awfully pretty to me.

Pamela Anderson, the waaaaay later years version.

But then again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Who’s gotta fun dad to dress up this Halloween?

CBXB

CBXB!