Whiska Lickin’ Good

Ted was ultra pissed off at me last night when I opened a nice bottle (well, box really because I’ve lost my wine opener in my own mini manse and still can’t find it) of Pinot Grigio and forgot to pour him a glass as well. He gave me the finest stink eye in all of the South.

Cattail 4

Forgot me? Forget you!

So after suggesting we share, he had to think about it for 30 minutes as I held the glass low enough for His Royal Highness to decide whether or not to take a chug.

Cattail 6

I don’t want a drink now that you want me to have one.

After our cowboy stare down passed and the tumbleweeds rolled by, the stubborn kit cat caved.

Cattail 5

Well, I can just smell it…

Cattail 1

But then again, maybe a taste wouldn’t hurt, either.

Cattail 2

Hmm…lip smackingly good.

Cattail 3

But wait, I thought that was Captain!

After our disgruntled wine tasting experience, Mr. Bear concluded he prefers Skinny Pirates over white wine (takes after his Captain Morgan loving mother – my heart is bursting with pride only a cat mom can understand).

Whatever the happy hour has you guzzling tonight, we hope it’s whiska lickin’ good! We’ll be sticking to Skinny Pirates – and yes, I’ll be pouring two glasses.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

How My Pussy Handles Bad News

So, many of you know (because I won’t stop being a bawl baby and feel the need to post every other day about this matter – oh woe is me) my furry feline Ted and I have been asked to leave our little mini-manse due to the owner’s son needing my side for his expanding family. I took a minute to digest the news before passing the information along to an “I hate change more than anything in the history of the universe” cat.

When I first told Teddy we were relocating, he gave me his best cartoon eyes popping out of head routine.

WTF were you thinking? I KNOW.

WTF? WE’RE MOVING?!

Then he got all weepy…

Starting to bawl just like his mom taught him how

I think Mr. Bear thought if he gave me his sad face long enough it would change our situation.  No such luck.

Realizing his fake tears weren’t working, he ran for the nearest open space (that he has never, ever been interested in before).

Running for cover.

Running for cover.

While trying to coax TB out of his hiding space, he tried to escape his pain by delving deeper into the interior of my cabinets.

Maybe if I hide up in the cupboards, I will just drive the new tenants mad with meows.

Why can’t he just stuff his face when upset like the rest of us? DRAMA.

So after begging and pleading with him, he emerged from his hideout.

Beg me

Beg me and I will come.

Silly me, thinking this moving nonsense was water under the bridge, I turned my back for one second (CATS!) and Teddy had moved on to bigger and better out-of-reach places.

Master of Fridge Mountain.

Master of Fridge Mountain.

Sternly telling him to get down and take his eye balls off of my antique decanters, he suddenly lost the ability to hear.

Yep. He went there.

Yep. He went there.

What's up here?

Proving his point.

I reluctantly resisted the urge to scream “GET THE F DOWN” at the top of my lungs as he walked the top of my cabinets like a tightroping Vegas act.

Delicate maneuvers. I tried to resist the urge to yell at him to get the F down from my antique decanters...

Delicate maneuvers.

Slither attempt

Making my heart race with the little flicks of his tail. Bitch!

Reaching the end of his circus act, he realized there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide so he turned around and gave me 30 more seconds of quiet terror as he sauntered back to his starting point.

Twisty

Exposed.

Then Mr. Bear got all dramatic and tried ramming his head through the kitchen wall.

Ram Rod.

Ram Rod.

Realizing this attempt at drama hurt him more than it did me, he just sat and burned two tiny holes into my soul with his gaze of hell.

Gaze of hell. I feel like he burned two tiny holes into my soul with this icy stare.

This pussy is pissed.

And then, he proceeded to cry, whine, bitch and moan for about a half an hour until I got up on a chair and replanted him to lower ground.

This upcoming weekend of moving is going to be such fun…I may single handedly drink the world dry of Captain Morgan.

Yes, please wish me luck.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Car Party!

A lazy Nashville Friday night consisted of Skinny Pirates and laundry with assistance from Mr. Bear, of course.

Clean as a whistle

Wanting to be the center of my laundry attention.

Fluff cycle

Fluff cycle.

A tad on the overly excited side, I accidentally ate an entire bag of Lay’s potato chips due to the fact that my bootlegged AE chip dip (brought back from last week’s trip to Iowa) called my name every three seconds from the fridge. Along with the equally delicious AE cottage cheese.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner for the weekend.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner for the weekend.

An unexpected girl’s Saturday night out called for pre-party cocktails and a fancy Instagram-ish photo shoot, showing off my leopard heels (purchased on sale at Dillards – $19.98. Hello!).

Snazzy with Instagram

Cocktails and high heels on a Saturday night.

Upon arriving to our bar of choice, we commenced the rare evening out (some of these ladies have little ones, therefore not out-on-the town as much as yours truly) with a big, fat toast.

Cheers to Saturday!

Cheers to Saturday!

Moms on the loose.

Moms on the loose.

People watching is one of my fave things to do and I was trying to snap a pic of a gal’s rain boots all incognito with no success. So we sat up a mock photo shoot in the booth.

The cover up

The cover up.

The victory shot of the camo rain boots with no precipitation in sight. But a much-needed documentation of Southern-style rubber mud kickers, agree?

to get the boots

Mission accomplished.

Once our camo clad photo shoot was busted (I think my loud laugh gave our shenanigans away), we kept up the charade of a photo shoot up much to our fellow bar-goers delight.

Camera!

Can you believe the Ford Modeling Agency passed on this? Complete with a carrot shred in my lap?

Oh you have camo boots? We have carrot moustaches.

Matching moustache

Yes. We know we’re very cool.

Upon completion of our own personal media event in the bar booth, we celebrated with bubbly in our parked car (since we couldn’t crack the champs open in the restaurant – I brought the bottle in celebration of a baby girl born to one of our fellow ladies eight weeks earlier – so I was a little late…).

took the party to the car

Have you done this since you were 16? We’re just keeping it classy!

Backseat beauties

Backseat beauties.

Our car party was busted by the valet dude who acted like a cop on patrol.

Excuse me

Oh, what’s that you say? We can’t party in the parking lot of this fabulous establishment?

We kissed the stuffy bar good-bye (and I literally left my red lipstick and greasy nose print in my gal pal’s backseat) and hoofed it downtown to carry on the evening.

CBXB reminder for the week

CBXB reminder for the week…I think that’s 24 hour stay put lipstick.

Disapproving of the late hour of my return, Ted could only look down his nose at me in disgust.

PAST CURFEW!

PAST CURFEW!

But he quickly got over it as I belly rubbed him to sleep.

lazy leopard

Lazy leopard.

Sunday was spent giggling at photos of my god-daughter…what better past time?

Giggle!

Life is good!

Here’s to a happy week for you!

Cheers –

CBXB

CBXB!

Pussy Paybacks are Hell

I thought my little fur love, Teddy Bear was over the fact that I put him in a sombrero to celebrate our anniversary a few weekends ago (click here to read about shenanigans of shoving a cat into a poncho).  I came home from work last night and put my bags in their resting place.  I knew something was up when TB sauntered over and nonchalantly made a nook for himself as close as possible to the duo.

blah

I’ve never really paid much attention to these bright ass bags before. But now I think I love them.

Then Mr. Bear decided to pretend like he was going to take a nap and camp out all evening long further solidifying my suspicions of the debauchery that was about to take place.

who me?

Fishy scene.

As soon as I turned my back for a second, I heard the crunching of leather and about got whiplash from my head spinning around so quickly.

blah

Fuchsia leather tastes so good.

As I sternly threatened no supper if he didn’t stop, Ted just licked his lips and acted as if nothing just happened.

Whisker lickin' good

Whisker lickin’ good.

I physically removed him from the area (up to his window perch – sure to distract him right?) and upon my return to the room four seconds later, Teddy B. acted like he was deeply involved in shadow watching.

blah

Does my shadow make me look fat?

Trying to distract the cat, I unsuccessfully tried to make  shadow puppets to lure him away.

blach

Is that your attempt to make a shadow rabbit? Pitiful.

blah

Pondering the beauty of a neon purse.

Having a moment of weakness when I thought he was simply testing my boundaries, I lowered my guard for a split second.  I mean, he was simply admiring the screaming loud color of his mother’s bag.

blah

I need sunglasses. Badly.

And then, all hell broke loose.

blah

I’ll teach you to put me in a sombrero!

Teddy was giving me the biggest “F you Mom” a feline could merit.

F U

Seeing his fangs from this angle gave me inspiration for his Halloween costume. Dracula, of course.

blah

I vant to suck your purse.

Suddenly, TB actually seemed to hear the tone in my voice as I yelled at him to knock it the F off.

blah

Oh she means business.

He was so scared, he immediately took a bath during my verbal rant.

he felt dirty after his dirty work

Feeling filthy after his dirty work.

I really got to him, don’t you agree?

I think Ted just wanted me to constantly be reminded of him and now I think about him 2,176 more times per day when I go to carry my purse. The little shit.

I can’t wait for Halloween…

CBXB

CBXB!