Weekend Winks

A fun Friday night out to see the Nashville Predators take on the Vancouver Canuks.

First mate and fang fingers

First Mate and I hanging at the arena bar (I mean, where else would we meet?)!

To keep the cost of drinks down (arena prices are $7 for a single, $14 for a double and you all know what I’d order), I stash my own flask and become a very germaphobe bar tender in a bathroom stall.

Don't tell I'm up to no good.

Up to no good.

The toilet paper dispenser acts as my bar, I stuff the lid in my mouth (to keep germs at bay) and pour out half of the Sprite (it was a vodka night) in the toilet (being sure to keep the cup three feet above the seat).

Classy bathroom bar.

Classy bathroom bar with an even classier bar tender.

I have a thing for mascots. I mean a crazy lady thing (which won’t come as a surprise when I tell you that the Preds mascot is a giant cat).  Here’s my boyfriend, Gnash making his appearance, repelling down from the ceiling.

My boyfriend, Gnash

He’s such a stud.

With great seats and a vodka filled cup, fun times were had although the Preds lost 1-0.

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Even Carrie Underwood’s pretty husband (yes, he’s pretty, not handsome) couldn’t help the team score.

Even Carrie Underwood's pretty hubs couldn't help.

But Mike Fisher was fun to oogle over anyhow.

Being the fashion diva I think I am, what about this ensemble…backpack, knee-length (which look good on…who?) Mom shorts and sneakers with no socks?

Enough to drive me to drink! So I did.

Upon leaving the game and heading toward the honky tonks, this gentleman kindly reminded the crowd that if you don’t live a clean life, you’ll go to hell.

In case you were wondering

In case you were wondering…

Where do you think I’ll go?

Heaven or Hell?

Heaven or Hell?

Once again at Robert’s Western World (for the second time in two days…think the band members are pretty sure I’m stalking them), The Don Kelley Band   played my favorite dancing song – only this time I didn’t have to dance alone (read all about it here).

This time around, my dancing skills scored me a crisp $100 bill.

Tip money!

OK, really someone’s friend wanted to buy us a round but gave me the dough, so I pretended it was a tip. (A girl can dream about her dancing skills!)

The overload of cocktail money caused me to pull double duty on the drinks.

Art of double fisting. Classy!

Art of the double fist.

Due to the amounts of liquor consumed, Friday was a late night and Teddy was a little bitch on Saturday because I’d interrupted his beauty sleep at 2am.

Not a happy camper.

Not a happy camper.

As I was gearing up for my Saturday evening events, I chose some new kicks to debut.  Only thing is they creaked with every single step I took.

WD40 please

Is there a WD-40 for boots?

A quick happy hour with gal pals to commence my Saturday festivities.

Friends and cocktails good way to begin Saturday evening

Another round please!

Seeing my very favorite bar tender – who pours Skinny Pirates perfectly (he’s actually the one who nailed the concoction all those years ago at Dalts. Sigh).

Favorite bartender

Think he makes house calls?

Making the switch from my Captain to red wine, as I celebrated a birthday at a swanky little Nashville Italian joint.

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When in Rome….

On Sunday, I excitedly anticipated the Academy Awards while Teddy was still in recovery from my late weekend nights.

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My Oscar evening included champagne and pretty pink (what else would you expect?) frosted cupcakes.

Fancy cupcake for the fancy evening.

Fancy cupcake for the fancy evening.

Teddy got a second wind and insisted on sitting in the front row for the actual awards broadcast.

my oscar view

My Oscar view.

And I’m happily starting Monday off in this fabulous, bedazzled skull studded tank my gal Tina gifted me this weekend (think she knows me very well?).

Stargin Monday off bedazzled in my new threads from my girlie, Tina.

Kickin’ ass and takin’ names today!

Here’s hoping you do the same.

CBXB

CBXB!

The Accidental Drunk

You know how you intend to have one after work cocktail and then all hell breaks loose? Yeah, me too.

Last night I met up with pals I haven’t seen in a long time … and one drink turned into three, which led to bourbon and late night honky tonkin’, resulting in a groggy Thursday morning.

It all started at a fancy restaurant where I decided to go out on a limb and deviate from my typical Skinny Pirate, vodka and wine.  I chose the “Keith It Simple” cocktail which included Corsair Absinthe, Old Forrester 100 Proof, house infused with vanilla bean, fresh lemon…there was nothing simple about this concoction.

the instigator

Big Mistake.

My choice in liquor for the evening led to an impromptu photo shoot outside the bathroom.

leading to the mauling of a pin up

Mauling of a pin-up.

And because I typically stick to dive bars, I was ultra impressed with the actual bathroom and started snapping photos in front of other customers (class act, right here).

Casablanca on the wall

Movies on the wall? I want to move in!

How does this work?

Blonde moment 341…how will this flat sink not get water all over my dry jeans?

After making an ass out of myself (and deciding the joint was too pricy for our food tastes), we decided to head to my favorite honky-tonk – Robert’s Western World.

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Why would you pay $40 for an elegant steak when you can get a complete meal at Robert’s for $5!?

A fun tidbit from a bumper sticker – somehow Nashvillians can make bashful and Nashville rhyme.

Somehow Nashvillians can make Bashful and Nashville rhyme...

Making Nashville sound like it’s spelled Nashful. Now that’s talent!

Our versions of ‘gourmet’… late night burgers and fried bologna sandwiches, accompanied by the always kick ass Don Kelley Band (who granted my request and played one of my all time favorite songs, which of course required me to get up and dance…alone on the dance floor…constantly finding ways to make an ass of myself).

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Mouth party!

After my personal Dancing With the Stars premiere, a dude at the table next to me watched me eat my cheese burger like a creeper – probably because I was shoveling the burger into my mouth like this –

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Can’t I eat any faster?

But then he paid me with what I thought was the best compliment ever – “you eating that there burger reminds me of the models on the Hardee’s or Carl’s Jr. commercials.” Who me? A MODEL!!

And then realizing I looked like an eating train wreck, he must have meant I look like the male burger models with mayo running down their chinny chin chins. Just trying to keep it classy, folks!

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Burger modeling in my future? Yes please!

All of these shenanigans had me reaching for my jar of much-needed Vegemite (the Australian hangover cure) this morning. And when I wondered aloud if readers were going to start trying to “sponsor” me due the constant advertising of my bad habits, a friend (a true one) said, “Alcoholics go to meetings. Drunks go to parties.”

Crisis averted.

CBXB

CBXB!