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!

One Night Stand

You know how they say you should never sleep with an ex?

Well, some people never learn.

Especially trashtastic folks like Britney Spears and Kevin Federline.

The Federlines. In all of their shaved noggin, wig headed black hair, pre-Celebrity Fit Club appearances.

Bored with current “good girl” image while judging (snore) on The X Factor (yawn), Britney went back to her wiley ways, if just for one night. I mean, being white trashy is knowing something is wrong but doing it anyway (probably how everyone feels the morning after running into an ex. In your bed) and not giving a rat’s rear end about it (not even a morsel of remorse).

In celebration of their “one night stand” reunion, Brit and K-Fed wanted to share their fabulously trashy treats they’ll be serving to cavity hungry monsters from the double wide mansion tonight.

1. K-Fed’s “Famous Family Jewels”

K-Fed can procreate like nobody’s business, so it’s only fitting that this is his favorite dish.  He stumbled on these nuts while cruising through the very non-trashy onceamonth4ladies blog (he’s secretly in love with the fabulous foursome).

1 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar
3TBL pumpkin spice
3 cups of your most cherished nuts
1 egg white
2 tsp vanilla

Mix the sugars and pumpkin spice in a bowl (or whatever is laying around the trailer). In a separate container, whisk the egg white and vanilla. Slowly mix nuts into egg and vanilla mixture, add sugar and stir until your arm hurts (which for K-Fed now is about 15 rounds in the bowl). Run your finger through your hair to grease the crock pot (if you don’t do this, you’ll have sticky nuts and that’s no good for anyone).

Once marinated, slow cook the nuts for two hours, stirring every 30 minutes.

Please pass the nut sack. Britney wanted serve K-Feds faves in a plastic Walmart bag. Whatever floats your boat.

2. Frankenstein Fungus Pops

Brit burglarized this recipe from Colorado blogger Glitzgirlzglamourguide.com (where the Frankensteins are way more fabulous).

1 pack jumbo marshmallows
1 package chocolate chips
1 can green food color spray (unless you have moldy ‘mellos)
black sparkle baking gel
sucker sticks

On a paper towel, spray marshmallows green. In a saucepan, melt 1/4 of the chocolate chips over low heat. Once fungusy enough, take the marshmallow and dunk the top in the chocolate.

Draw face with sparkle gel and insert sucker stick once dry.

3. Louisiana Lurkers

Britney actually thinks she can get pregnant just by looking at these cookies. Go figure.

1 package of Nutter Butter cookies
black sparkle baking gel
white chocolate chips

Melt chocolate chips over low heat in a sauce pan.  Dip Nutter Butters into melted chocolate, place on wax paper and let cool.  Once dry, paint on the “Oops I Did It Again” face.

Not again!

And that friends, is what you can find peering out of your plastic pumpkin if you stop by the trailer of terror.

Back for seconds.

If you hurry, you can make your own trashy treats (minus the tetanus shot) under your own roof before the door gets banged down by ghouls tonight.

Go on now and git’r’done. Even if it involves an ex.

CBXB

CBXB!

Twinsies

WARNING:  If you hate people who dress their pets up, stop reading. Right. Now.

With the establishment of my cray cray cat lady persona, it’s safe to say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in my family. My sister is just as loco over her pooch, Gunner as I am over my fur ball of a baby.

And being the crazies that we are, of course our four legged family members end up in costumes for Halloween. Sometimes even matching costumes (I mean, they are cousins after all).

There are, however, slight differences in trying put an outfit on a sweet dog like Gunner vs. a bitchy cat like Teddy (the first being that I’m the only lunatic I know who puts her freaking cat in an costume, but I digress).

Dogs like Gunner will humor you…

Patiently waiting for the limelight.

Cats think you’re an f’ing idiot for even trying to embarrass them in such horror.

Ted conducted a complete investigation at first sight of the unknown object in the living room.

Dogs like Gunner adore their altered look so much, they’ll dine in it…

Cats will act like the felted material is the heaviest thing they’ve ever encountered on their back and sit paralyzed (mostly to spite you).

Teddy…wishing he could put his stinger to use.

Dogs like Gunner stand and proudly pose for pictures…

Picture snapped in between happy tail wags.

Cats, especially Teddy, would be giving you the middle finger, if possible.

F YOU MOM.

Dogs like Gunner enjoy their new found accessories so much, they often forget to de-costume before bed.

Cats can’t wait to claw your eyes out once they get this God awful attire off right this second.

After our dramatically different photo shoots, it’s safe to say Ted’s outfit will be going to a Halloween graveyard (which is OK because I got it for $5 – sigh of relief) and Gunner will be wearing his until Christmas.  Maybe costumes are best left to the human race…but what fun would that be for my sister and me?

Our parents are so proud.

CBXB

How to Turn Your Dad Into Pamela Anderson

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 because he is no stranger to the spotlight my dad jumped 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).  Aunt Nancy is watching over us (and secretly thinking she wouldn’t touch my dad’s foot with a ten foot pole).

Carefully apply polish to the gigantic toes.

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

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

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

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

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 on to create the Lifeguard logo.  The shorts I scored in the ladies section at Walmart (go figure).

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

With the complete transformation in place, Pam was (happily) 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…

While this real life odd couple went on to hit the skids, Kid and Pam were able to let bygones be bygones on 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 later years.

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

CBXB