Weekend Winks – Scooby Style

I’ve been besties with my friend Scooby for what feels like 100 years. There is never ever a dull moment when the two of us are together (we’ve been told we’re the male/female versions of one another) and our extremely loud laughs can set off silent alarms (which really happened one time after a night at the bars).  I was thrilled when Scoobs and his hubs, Mr. Scooby spontaneously granted me with their presence this past weekend.

We started with the best intentions for a classy weekend, dining at Nashville’s Virago Friday night.


Me and my Queens.

After a relatively mild evening, Saturday promised to be more exciting. At least for me anyway, as I admired my new bathroom fixture…Mr. Scooby.

From AM...

Toast, Diet Coke and gay man candy. Be still my beating heart!

I made morning cocktails with my fabulous spatula strainer.

Fancy tools in the 90210 of Nashville

Nothing but fancy bar tools in the 90210 of Nashville.

I remembered to stay hydrated, as we proceeded to act like we were part of a marathon tailgating crew by drinking the day away (we didn’t mean to, it just happened!).

fancy cup for rehydration

Staying hydrated is almost as important as matching your glass to your outfit. Almost.

Perusing the shops of Franklin, sparkles caught my eye and I wondered if I ate enough of my skinny salad, could I squeeze into this sequined horse sweatshirt (appropriate attire for the rodeos I never attend).

Will this fit?

All of the salad in the world won’t help.

We sauntered to the Mellow Mushroom, where I politely asked Scooby for a heavy pour of wine – and did I ever get one.

A full glass from a smart ass

A full glass from a smart ass.

This required double duty slurping, which we didn’t mind.


This doesn’t suck.

Mr. and Mr. Scooby wanted to meet someone famous, so I introduced them to “The Most Interesting Man in the World,” Mr. Cardboard Dos Equis.

No, I'm not pregnant They wanted to meet someone famous. I introduced them to Mr. Dos Equis.

After much lunchtime discussion we decided that I look pregnant in this photo. I am indeed, not.

Three pizzas, two bottles of wine and four beers later, lunch was over.  What do classy ladies who lunch do after eating? Ride cannons in the town square, of course.

Cannon ball, anyone?

Cannon ball, anyone?

How to turn a gay man straight...well, maybe not.

How to turn a gay man straight…well, maybe not.

We decided it would be a good idea to go and scare my parents in the middle of the afternoon – because that’s what all vacationers want to do when they visit Nashville, right?

Perfecting our scare faces

Perfecting our fear faces.

The scare was a success and no one had a heart attack, so we had to have a drink in celebration.

Day drinking success! Acted like we were at an all day tailgate.

Day drinking scare success!

A little primping was in order before we headed out Saturday night, so I took a front seat with a Skinny Pirate.

to PM....I could get used to this.

Please take your time. All the time in the world. Please.

A trip to the South requires a taste of moonshine. Like it or not, Scooby!

Yes, do it, it won't hurt until three hours later

C’mon, do it – it won’t hurt until three hours later.

Moonshine shots lead to techno dancing with Teddy.

Teddy's version of techno dancing

Ted can’t even be bothered to put a paw up. Party pooper!

And moonshine also makes you (well, one of us anyway) hit a brick wall one hour after arriving at the bar. We thought about going home but then we had a brilliant idea! Mr. Scooby and I just strapped Scooby in the car and locked him in.

Strapped Scooby in, so he wouldn't get a back ache. Nice, huh?

All strapped up with nowhere to go…

What does any good husband and friend do after securing the drunk? We went back to the club and danced our asses off!

Scooby who?!

Scooby who?!

And have photo shoots in random attire taken from other people. I liked this hat because it reminded me of Santa Claus. Yes, Santa Claus – I have no idea why.

Do you think this cap has fleas?

Do you think this cap has fleas?

As the night went on, Mr. Scooby and I just got prettier and prettier, so we had to continue documenting with photos.


Pretty 1 and Pretty 2.

Then there was a discussion over whose chest was bigger and I lost. But I didn’t lose my shirt.

And continues...his boobs are bigger than mine. But no one asked me to take my shirt off in the gay bar. Hmm...Should I be offended?

I threw Mr. Scooby’s shirt away on purpose.

Once our photo shenanigans were over and the bar lights came on (why do they have to do that to us? I look so much better in low lighting after a certain hour of the evening!), we went out to collect our snoozing Scooby.

A little bit tied up

A little bit tied up but well rested after three hours in the car.

After we got home, the night kind of seemed like it went like this…

Oh boy...

Wait. What?

The next morning I walked into a kitchen of last night’s fun.

Is this a sign of a good time or horrible housekeeping skills?

Sign of a good time or horrible housekeeping skills?

And into the bathroom where it looks like we were trying to get rid of some of the previous evening’s fun.

One person. It wasn't me.

Two bowls, one person. Wasn’t me!

The Easter bunny was a tad late in deliveries, as we discovered treasures when we were headed out to a greasy brunch.

The beer bunny apparently visited Saturday night but did a shitty job hiding cans.

The beer bunny apparently visited Saturday night but did a shitty job hiding cans.

The bunny was so kind to already have popped holes in some of the cans so when we went to collect, we could drink immediately.

The bunny was so kind to already have popped holes in some of the cans so when we went to collect, we could drink immediately

Hair of the dog helps hangovers, right? Even warm beer?

Brunch proved to be a mighty task and the rest of our afternoon was spent recuperating.

Party Animals. In deep recovery.

Party Animals. In deep recovery.

My feet hurt from all of the dancing. My head aches from severe dehydration. My stomach still hurts from all of the laughing.

Cheers to fabulous friends!



Tweekend Winks

Over the weekend, this non-tech savvy Nashville gal (my college boyfriend gifted me a hammer to use on a printer I could never operate – and yes, I went Office Space on its ass) figured out how to sign up and navigate (kinda) Twitter. I’ve arrived!


Who wants to put the gadget/gizmo/widget/whatever the F you call it on my page for me?

How can I possibly limit what I have to say to 160 characters?!

After all of the computer shenanigans, I spent a quite Friday night taking a bubble bath with Ryan Gosling and Godiva chocolates. Rough.


A girl can dream, can’t she?!

What would a bath be without wine? I was perusing my cabinets for an open bottle and found one half full. From last weekend. Without a cork. Hmm…

I sent the tweet bird to my expert wine blogging buddy The Winegetter (@thewinegetter) to see if I would somehow perish from drinking a slightly stale bottle of red.  He answered with great concern 8 hours later (a time difference better have something to do with the speediness!) asking if it was too late.

Thankfully, I was alive, kickin’ and able to respond. Phew.


Last glass?

Teddy bathed in the smallest box possible while I was soaking my cares away.


Fat cat in a little box…

And he promptly found fuchsia tissue (so obviously my cat) to keep warm until we met up for a date on the couch.

Tissue blanket

Tissue tide-over.

I found a ‘chandelier’ to put on my lust list for home goods at the always delicious Mellow Mushroom.

One for each wing, please!

My Miami mini-me has Bieber fever (who doesn’t?) and sent me a picture of the fabulous hat she found to wear to the concert next weekend!

Mini me

How will The Biebs NOT notice this cutie?!

While strolling a fancy Nashville neighborhood on Sunday, I snapped this picture of a real mansion that shares the same zip code of my mini-manse (only I live on the skid row portion in 600 square feet. But by God, I share the same zip!).


Same zip code. Different purse size.

A quick trip to the Nashville Farmer’s Market proved worthy although it’s January.


Tomatoes, zucchini and squash – oh my!

I just had a hard time deciding between the tomat-oh and the to-mah-to.


So I got both, of course.

Ted’s ‘Uncle Brother’ Elvis (I rescued the black cat below from my parent’s backyard Thanksgiving 2011. We were supposed to have ‘joint’ custody, although he’s at my folks’ house 100% of the time. Therefore, is he Ted’s uncle or brother?) came in for a play date on Sunday afternoon.


Ted’s too cool to share. Or act like he cares.

As soon as I adopted Teddy, I got this fabulous pink carrier for him to trot in and out of, which he refused to do and now travels coddled in a blanket on my lap. But of course now that it belongs to Elvis, he was more than happy to explore its contents.


Sneaky little bastard!

And demanded that he was King of the Carrier.

King of the cage.


I ended my relaxing weekend the way it began. With a stud.

A weekend full of silver linings, indeed!