The Man, The Myth, The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky”) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to your car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during PE but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

As we celebrate the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

       … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                       Passed down to generations…

and

                                              … and generations …

still

…to upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

                      …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

                …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is like leading one big…

                                                            …fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

                 …even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

CBXB

CBXB!

The Man. The Myth. My Legend.

Image 90

Being that he’s often (happily) guest starring in blog posts and it’s his birthday weekend, I’m sharing some of the valuable life lessons that dear old dad passed down.

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND

My dad taught me…

That you should always have your family’s back…

bl

                                       …even if they maul you.

How to throw my hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

To never leave home…

...without my shades.

                                              …without my shades.

The importance of being able to “blow up” one’s muscles.

blow

                       They keep blowing…

and

                                              … and blowing…

still

                                                 …and blowing.

You taught me that pink isn’t just for gals…

flex

         …tough guys wear it too.

That sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     …’cause you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

and that giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…unless you’re three and don’t realize it’s not you’re birthday.

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

                      …as long as there’s someone to rub it in for you.

You taught me the significance of jazz hands…

was

…because you never know when you’ll need to use them.

How to travel on a road trip…

check

…with rot gut vodka, a plastic cup and using your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

                …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

That being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is never a bad deal…

                                                             EVER.

You taught me that shots…

too

                     …are cocktails, too.

And the family that shoots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

                  …stays together.

That it’s important to share…

at the

                 …even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

How to relax…

after

                                               …after a long day.

You showed me you’d always be there to carry me through hard times…

broken foot

         …with a broken foot…

broken ankle

              …a broken ankle…

                          …and when I’m just too drunk to walk.

You taught me that it’s OK to spoil people…

treat

                          …especially when their nails are wet…

           …as long as you return the favor.

Most importantly, you taught me that not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…some wear their daughters on their backs.

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Better get those Hawkeye shot glasses out and ready to celebrate this weekend!

Happy Birthday Dada!

CBXB

CBXB!

To Dads Who Rock Our Worlds

An ode to my dad, the dude who’s taught me quite a few important life lessons worth sharing …

#1) The art of playing dress up.

One should never take themselves too seriously (doesn’t he make a beautifully awkward looking woman?).

Teach the importance of playing dress up.

Kid and Pam. Duo of the Halloween circuit (click here to read about it).

#2) Giving good fashion tips and showing the importance of taking risks.

I may never have rocked neon pink jeans or turquoise sneakers if I hadn’t seen my dad risking it by wearing a pink feather boa.

Oh, pink feathers would look good on me!

It takes balls to boa.

#3) Instilling the importance of a family tradition during holidays.

Thus taking this lesson to heart, I’ve turned into a Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter, anything-that-has-a-theme seasonal maniac.

Help you fall in love with holidays, so now you're a maniac when it comes to

Pumpkin carving passion 101.

#4) Schooling me on the art of loving your birthday so much, it’s your favorite day of the year.

My birthday is in late March (and if you must know, three months exactly after Christmas), therefore it’s my birthday month. And, although it’s June, I’m still accepting presents and celebratory cocktails. I really took this lesson to heart. Thanks Dad.

Teach the imporance of a celebration

I’m all business when it comes to taking tips on the art of blowing candles out.

#5) Showing the almighty ability to shake it up and party down without spilling your cocktail on the dance floor.

This might be the most important lesson learned from my father. I’ve fallen down stairs, tripped in grass and jumped into a pool without losing a drop of liquor from my glass. TALENT taught well.

Dancing maching

Drip dry dancing machines. Liquor in tact!

#6) Establishing the idea that no matter what, your family will be there to pick you up in times of need.

Like the time I accidentally got shit faced at my sister’s bachelorette party and couldn’t walk to the car because my feet hurt.

My feet hurt, I need a lift.

My heels are killing me! I need a lift.

Stiff as a board but sure as shit not light as a feather...especially after cocktailing.

A family effort trying to throw my dad’s back out.

Are we there yet? I think I just threw my dad's back out.

The dude who’s carried me through life like a champ.

Whether your dad is still cruising the streets or has departed to the big party in the sky, I’m raising my glass to each and everyone this Sunday.

Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads that have rocked our worlds.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Parental Pussy FAIL

Turns out not only can I not take photos with my pussies, I’m the world’s worst cat mom when it comes to snow days.

Photography fail. Feline photo fail

Feline photo fail 8,054,278.

Nashville has recently been pummeled with winter weather outside of the norm. And that’s meant staying in, hunkering down and working in my finest pjs.

Snow day office attire.

Snow day office attire.

Days home due to snow also require a trip to the grocery whenever a winter advisory is in place and Nashvillians feel the need to stock up on any and everything under the sun. Especially milk and bread.

Save yourself.

Save yourself. The lines were about 16 deep at each checkout.

So instead of getting snow day food essentials, I filled my car with the more important necessities when stuck at home.

Most important stocking up of all.

Priorities.

Upon waking up and realizing I needed to put a layer of carbs in my belly before commencing on the day drinking ahead of me, I found an old box of pancake mix and blueberries in the fridge that didn’t yet have mold growing on them.

Homemade breakfast.

Yes, I can cook. Don’t go dying of shock.

After stuffing my face (because I’m like any good selfless mom, I fed me first) with what felt like eight pounds of pancakes, I realized my little fur balls needed some meat for their bones too.

Cats need food too...

Awe, little prince was rationing his food.

But then, this happened when I went to the cat pantry….

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Upon hearing the cling of the metal food pan ringing a little too loudly due to the lack of food inside, Ted had some choice looks for me.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE'RE OUT OF FOOD?!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE OUT OF FOOD?!

Mr. Bear looked in the cupboards with no luck.

Cupboards were empty

Nothing but crumbs.

New Cat checked under the kitchen rug to no avail.

None under here. Rug rate.

My mom hates me.

When I tried calming them down, saying I had tuna (that may or may not have expired in 2010) somewhere in a drawer I returned from my search to this on my computer.

Oh boy.

Oh boy.

Feeling slightly guilty that I had my booze and batter on hand, I thought I would be a super mom and brave the icy streets of Nashville to get these little assholes their fancy $60 cat food (Ted has kitty Celiac’s Disease and New Cat just lucks out – the little bastard).

I then realized that the only tools I had to fight the ice was my Captain and a spatula.

An Iowa girl minus a scraper.

What kind of Iowa girl am I without an ice scraper?!? Yet another fail from yours truly. Sorry Iowa.

Turns out the cooking utensil was no match for the ice that had frozen every opening of my vehicle shut.

Getting nowhere fast.

Getting nowhere fast.

One quarter of the way through after 55 minutes.

One quarter of the way through after 48 minutes.

Realizing that my efforts were going to go down in flames, I trudged back inside to tell my pussies the bad news.  Teddy took it about as well as when he jumped in a bush like Garfield.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CSN'T GET OUT?!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T GET OUT?!

New Cat in all of his dramatic glory, fainted.

Ohmygod! Ohmygod. Ohmygaaaaaaawd.

OMG. Ohmygod! Ohmygod. Ohmygaaaaaaawd.

Luckily for me, my buddy Camo texted that he’d be up my way in his heavy duty truck and asked if I needed anything. And boy, was he sorry (no good deed goes unpunished) when I told him I needed the fancy prescription cat food for His Royal Highness and Mr. Annoying.

He nicely agreed to pick it up, so I called the pet store to see if I could pay over the phone. While the business transaction was a success, the store was closing in 15 minutes due to the inclement weather. At this point, I just felt like I should end it all and let the cats eat my face in lieu of their precious fucking food.

But lo and behold Camo whisked in with a bag just in the nick of time (I’d chosen to put my head in the oven due to warmth).

Snow Hero to the rescue!

Camo needs a cape.

New Cat was so happy to see this sight that he started to make out with the bag of food.

Love

Hugging on the fine delicatessen.

Kissing on the food.

Kissing, er…biting on the bag.

Escorting the damn food to its new home.

Escorting the damn food to its new home.

And diving right in on the fresh duck and pea food.

And diving right in on the fresh duck and pea concoction.

Naturally my first born was nothing but pissed off, yet still found a way to eat anyhow.

I hate your guts but my fancy food is delish.

I hate your guts but my fancy food is delish.

We’ve since all made up.

Back to being mauled. Just as it should be.

Back to being mauled. Just as it should be.

Lesson learned folks. My checklist for the next winter weather advisory:

  1. Cat food
  2. Captain
  3. Cat food
  4. Wine
  5. Cat food

Can someone please remind me of this list? It’s hard being blonde.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

 

Lessons From My Legend

Image 90

Being that he’s often (happily) guest starring in blog posts and tomorrow is his birthday, I’m sharing some of the valuable life lessons that dear old dad passed down.

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND

My dad taught me…

That you should always have your family’s back…

bl

…even if they maul you.

How to throw my hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

To never leave home…

...without my shades.

…without my shades.

The importance of being able to “blow up” one’s muscles.

blow

They keep blowing…

and

… and blowing…

still

…and blowing.

Pink isn’t just for gals…

flex

…tough guys wear it too.

That sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

…’cause you gave me the pfirst bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

…and be fanatics, even when your team sucks.

That giving is better than receiving…

better

…unless you’re three and don’t realize it’s not your birthday.

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

…as long as there’s someone to rub it in for you.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…because you never know when you’ll need to use them.

How to travel on a road trip…

check

…with rot gut vodka, a plastic cup and using your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

…especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

That being the life of the party…

never

…is never a bad deal…

EVER.

My dad taught me that shots…

too

…are cocktails, too.

And the family that shoots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

That it’s important to share…

at the

…even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

How to relax…

after

…after a long day.

You showed me you’d always be there to carry me through hard times…hero

broken foot

…with a broken foot…

broken ankle

…a broken ankle…

…and when I’m just too drunk to walk.

You taught me that it’s OK to spoil people…

treat

…especially when their nails are wet…

…as long as you return the favor.

Most importantly, you taught me that not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…some wear their daughters on their backs.

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

…The Man, The Myth, THE LEGEND.

Better get those shot glasses out and ready to celebrate this weekend…

Happy Birthday Dada!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Luck of the Irish My Ass

My St. Patty’s Day weekend proved I’ve become a leprechaun in reverse with no overflowing gold in my pot.

Who's got my pot of gold?

No gold? No problem. Let’s party!

Ever have multiple seconds turn into minutes that roll into hours and then days that make you wanna pull your hair out strand by strand?

Friday morning started with this lovely event…

puncher

All aired out in less than two minutes flat.

A second punctured tire in the last three months requiring me to purchase yet another brand new fucking piece of rubber. Thank you streets of Nashville.

Luck of the Irish my ass

Luck of the Irish my ass.

While I was quite the damsel in distress (let’s remember my nails are “jewels not tools” so no I don’t know, nor care to know how to change a flat tire), I luckily work in a warehouse full of knights in shining armor.

My hero.

My hero to the rescue!

Adding to my mounting car frustration was the fact that I just spent $1000 on brakes last weekend. So between dropping a cool thou enabling my car to halt and throwing another $250 into the wind for a new tire I thought about to pushing my car into oncoming traffic.

Then I remembered I’m not done paying for it.

And I need transportation to and from work in order to pay for my piece of shit vehicle.

Knowing I just drained my entire year’s worth of spending money in two weeks on a hunk of metal about sent me over the edge…all before noon on a Friday. But the fellas at the warehouse know how to take care of an edgy gal – with endless compliments (your day sucks but you look really nice!) and a cigarette (if I’m smoking, it’s bad as I smoke one cigarette every 1,789 days).

Yep. I needed a cig.

Thankful for nicotine, my resident tire expert and the coat he let me borrow.

In order to get my heart rate, blood pressure and sanity back in order, I drove across town to visit Ted, the little fur ball love of my life.

Little lovin'

Just what the doctor ordered.

Why is my beloved on vacation from yours truly?  Because New Cat, the stray we opened our home to in January is sick (and pretty pathetic looking in his cone).

SIck cone head.

Wallowing in the window pane.

Saturday fun was all about New Cat visiting the vet where we found out his eye is not only worse, he’s somehow developed an ear infection, which means another week away from my precious Ted and $100 less grocery money for moi. I feel like the appropriate name for New Cat is now Money Pit.

Pink eye

Poor, pitiful, pink-eyed pussy.

Finding out that my nephew is a mini LeBron James lifted my saggy Saturday spirits.

Palm It!

Palming it in Iowa.

Michael Jordan

Seriously. Check out his biceps with an easy slam dunk.

What made me want to do happy cartwheels around my mini manse? Seeing a photo of my niece, a budding shoe hoarder….

Yep. My niece for sure.

Yep. My niece for sure.

The final act in turning my frown upside down included the main squeeze in my liquor loving life. Captain Morgan.

Taking the edge off

Doing an Irish jig for my Skinny Pirates.

Luck of the Irish my ass.

Who needs rainbows and leprechauns when you have rum?

Turning my pissy pants into party pants was complete with my concoction of green holiday treats.

Happy St. Patty's Day to me!

Filling my pot with Jell-O shots, naturally.

With a little hitch in my kick, I’m happy to say this Nashville gal has the leprechaun spirit in overabundance today.

Who needs a pot of gold?

Luck ‘o the Irish breakfast…and lunch…and dinner.

Here’s hoping some Irish luck finds you, making this a very happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Cheers!

CBXB!