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!