Happy Hallow-meowi!

This time of year has become bittersweet, as I am severely missing my Mr. Ted E. Bear , because I’m bat shit crazy enough to dress pussies up in costume. And we’d have been in costume today. In an ode to the fur baby that I may as well have birthed myself, here are a few of my past faves.

Since Tedstar was beyond high maintenance (just like his mama) he was immune to catnip – the magic in which I thought would work to ease him into costumes. Instead, turns out a sniff of wine worked just as fine (again with the birthing thing).

Ahh….relaxing vino.

We first got into the idea of Halloween costuming after seeing Ted’s cousin, Gunner, in a bee’s outfit.

I mean c’mon, doesn’t he look cozzzzzeee?

They immediately became twinsies much to Ted’s dismay.

FOR FUCKING REAL?

Even though the Bear didn’t last long enough for a night full of Halloween thrills, I was happy with the outcome.

Ted, not so much.

Buzzed out.

The following year, Teddy Krueger and I not only acquired a new mini manse but also a partner in crime for him – New Cat. The idea of wrapping my arms around two costumed cats didn’t seem like a huge feat until I tried.

Fuck you. Fuck these masks. Fuck being your cat.

Turns out, Ted was used to being the star of the show and I’m pretty sure he pushed New Cat out of the shot.

Only room for one star. Beat it.

As always, the Bear was right. We made such a dashing duo.

Tedstar shining bright.

The following year I was racking my brain as to what Baby Bear and I could be…and then, Miley Cyrus inappropriately grinded on Robin Thicke’s thighs at the MTV Video Music Awards. Voila!

My favorite Halloween photo ever was captured (mind you, this was a one handed selfie – yeah, I have MAD skills). Thank you for your slightly bananas year, Miley.

The photoshoot was one helluva shit show , as purrfecting this pic took 4,791 tries but it was waaaaaaay worth the outcome.

Our last Halloween together, we went as the ultimate Star Wars duo (or at least the duo of costumes I could find – mine was an XL dog’s outfit).

It’s too soon to tell which of my fabulous foursome of current pussies will come to my costume rescue next year.

But I doubt any of them will let me get as handsy as Ted did. While I miss him something terrible, the memories of Halloween’s past are making me smile.

We so would have been Neegan and Rick from The Walking Dead this year.

Rest in peace Baby Bear.

CBXB

 

 

 

How to Become a Poster Child for Pussy

How does one become a pussy poster child you are wondering?

You adopt five fucking cats in six months (yes, you read that right). And then become that bona fide crazy lady who is a borderline hoarder of little furry beasts. But I didn’t mean to….

You see, my love of pussy started at a young age and never waned.

I might as well have been born a kitten.

I might as well have been born a kitten.

Planning vacation activities as an adult around cat shows on piers qualifies one for being a deranged feline lover.

Elbowing four year olds for a front seat.

Elbowing four-year olds for a front row seat to watch cats that do tricks.

Falling in love with aforementioned cat show host because he, well loves pussy as much as I do.

Soul mate.

Just as crazy about cats as me. #soulmates

Visiting Ernest Hemingway’s cat cemetery in Key West almost put me over the edge.

Noooooooooooo.

Sweet little souls I never knew.

Naturally I made an ass out of myself crying alone in a fucking cemetery for cats. Actually, I was bawling behind sunglasses so much so that a stranger came up and asked me if I was OK.

Cried

Why can’t all cats live forever?

Until that Key West vacation, I was a one pussy at a time kinda gal. Even though I’d always loved cats of all kinds, I had one precious prince at a time. Until there was New Cat.

Fuck Face.

A true Fuck Face of a feline.

New New showed up at my door one cold, snowy night and not wanting to love him after of course taking him in, I didn’t give him a name. He insisted on staying put in the mini manse and so, we kept this little Dennis the Menace who tore down window shades to get a better view outside, climbed curtains, broke vases, was once almost washed with clothes – you get the idea.

Couldn't even piss without him all up in my grill.

Hell, I couldn’t even piss without him all up in my grill.

Yet NC and Ted fell in love and became playmates as well as bruthas from anotha mutha.

Brotherly love.

Hugs, love and punches to the face.

The first time I ever felt famous was due to New Cat because I had to get a prescription for him from Walgreens. And felt like an ass hat when the nice pharmacist asked for the patient’s name and I replied with New Cat to a quizzical look. Which was then called over the loud speaker when the medicine was ready…so now I get notes on my personal prescriptions from my pharmacist (who is now a friend!).

Famous Pussy Lover

Nashville’s famous pussy lover in the flesh.

But very suddenly last summer, the most annoying cat in the world died of saddle thrombosis (a blood clot on his spine) at an emergency clinic in the middle of the night. To say that Ted was inconsolable is an understatement.

Pretty inconsolable.

Terribly sad mama and baby bear.

And then, I did the only thing a mother could do.

While stopping in at Pet Smart for Ted’s $75 bag of cat food, I accidentally saw these two mugs as Sweet Faces Rescue resided in the main aisle of the store with oodles of cats and kittens needing homes.

Double take on New Cat.

Double take on New Cat.

And then, I made the mistake of holding them.

At the same time.

Two's not a crowd.

Two’s not a crowd.

Fast forward three seconds and I was adopting two bros for my main squeeze ho.

Uh..

Uh…this happened.

Mothers always know what’s best for their kids and the attraction between the twins and The Bear was immediate.

Ted fell hard.

Ted fell hard.

Precious the chug, not so much.

Precious, not so much.

We had to ease her into the tuxedo twins.

I knew the two new felines needed names and due to my love of all things Griswold, I instantly knew what I would name this duo.

Naturally it onlyl made sensse.

Hallelujah! Holy shit! She’s naming them!

And so the mini manse then consisted of Clark, Cousin Eddie, Ted and Precious.

Clark, Eddie, Teddy and Presh.

The chug and the pussies.

But then, keeping in line with the Griswolds, my cat shitter got full.

Literally.

Cat shit alert.

Cat shit alarm clock is a fun way to wake up.

Diharrea galore made Ted ultra sick.

SKin and bones due to

Not a happy skin and bones camper.

The twins and Ted needed to be separated, so Clark and Cousin Eddie went to visit Dada CBXB.

Gpa

Obviously hating life with Gpa.

Dad fell in love with the twins by the time Mr. Bear was back in the saddle so, in keeping with the Griswold family style, I wrapped up the damn cats and gave them to him for Christmas.

Wrapped up the damn cats.

My equivalent of Aunt Bethany.

Ted was well, Presh was happy but then bad shit happened to me.

Who Loves me?

Who Loves me? Cats. Cats will love me.

I was in dire straits for too long, wallowing in depths of despair while Tedstar and Presh were like two old fogies in a nursing home.

And I turned

We all needed help.

So, Mama CBXB thought it would be a genius idea to get me a kitten.

Cute.

I didn’t hate that idea. At all.

Elsa Pants

So we ended up with Elsa Pants.

Typically, I rescue cats that are at least two years old, knowing their chances dwindle with each passing year they age. With this in mind, as I stood up with the newest addition to my family in Pet Smart, I saw these eyes peering out of a cage.

FUck. Those New Cat Eyes again.

Fuck. New Cat Crazy Eyes.

But wait! There was also a brother in the back of the cage who wasn’t adjusting well to rescue life because they were four when their owner surrendered them (stupid motherfuckers like that piss me off).

Strong, silent type.

Strong, silent type.

Naturally, I couldn’t leave them there one without the other. Yes, you heard that right.

Maybe I should just hold them? Maybe I should just try them on for size?

Maybe I should just hold them? Maybe I should just try them on for size?

SOLD.

SOLD.

Penny, the Queen of Sweet Faces Cat and Kitten Rescue about fell over when I told her I’d take all three of them (since I had rescued Clark and Cousin Eddie just a few months prior).

Negotiations.

Negotiations.

And just like that, I became even more famous for my love of pussy.

IMG_0513

I’m not sure who was most excited about getting to their new permanent mini manse home – the pussies or me.

Elsa Pants, Ruby Sue and Rocky. Two Griswolds and a princess on their way home.

Elsa Pants, Ruby Sue and Rocky. Two Griswolds and a princess on their way home.

Turns out, they were welcomed with furry Teddy Bear arms upon their arrival.

Settled in right away.

In order of importance according to Ted.

Naturally I’ve taken all kinds of shit for having four cats and chug, loving candles, reading and being single.

Daily occurrence.

Daily occurrence.

Fun gifts.

Appropriate gifts.

Friendly reminder.

Just doing what the advertisements that pop up on Facebook say!

But in the end, I really just don’t give a fuck because rescuing these babies has enriched not only their lives, they’ve helped save me. They’ve aided my sick little bear by assisting him to live on some love. And the company I keep is always feisty.

First Mate sent this to me one Saturday and I knew I’d finally made it as a Pussy Poster Child.

She said, “this just popped up on my feed and made me smile.”

IMG_1518

Now get on over to Sweet Faces Cat & Kitten rescue and stare into my smiling, happy face. And if you can’t adopt, why don’t you donate?

On a side note, I’m not allowed to go to Pet Smart when I’m upset. So if you see me headed that way….STOP ME.

Meeeeeeeow.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Farewell to New Cat

RIP New New

RIP New New

My own personal Dennis the Menace passed away suddenly from a blood clot on his lower spine at the end of last week.

The

Baby in a bag.

I woke up to his cries at 4am and when Teddy and I got to his side, he couldn’t stand up on his back legs and we rushed him to an animal ER, where there was nothing to be done for my little three-year old. So we had to say a swift and immediate goodbye minutes after we’d arrived to the hospital.

Breaking the news to Mr. Bear proved to be more difficult than I thought, as he has continuously roamed the mini manse in search of his always a pain in the ass brother to no avail.

Brotherly love.

Brotherly love at its most annoying.

I have been comforted by the calls, cards, messages, flowers and all around good will from people – some whom I’ve never even met – wise to the void the loss of a fur baby causes.

Comfort

You guys rock.

I was also comforted by my Captain, Dad and Camo Friday evening at my local watering hole, Dalts.

Cheers to Newy!

Cheers to Newy!

And you know photos I received throughout the weekend of Prince and Princess B put a wide smile on my face.

Two happy faces

Making my mug happy.

A girl’s night out with a fellow animal gal pal, who said all of the right things made for a comforting Saturday.

Girlfriends know just what to do.

Girlfriends know just what to do.

But in the end, Ted and I are leaning heavy on each other as we mourn the loss of the most annoying cat on earth.

Love

The best kind of friends.

But he was our most annoying cat who is now up there somewhere on Gma’s lap annoying the piss out of her.

Cheers to you my little New Cat.

We miss you something terrible.

CBXB and Ted

CBXB!

 

 

How to Almost Burn Down a Mini Manse

I’m a woman of many talents.

I photobomb like it’s my career, my dainty laugh makes 80-year-old men want to fight me,  I have a knack for getting strange dudes to send me dick pics and I’m on the brink of being Nashville’s cray cray cat lady.  However, I recently uncovered a new ability of mine when I almost burned my entire apartment complex to the ground with a microwave and a glittery paper plate.

All that glitters is not gold. It's more of an orange color with a yellow tint that when combined together create a blaze.

All that glitters is not gold.
It’s more of an orange color with a yellow tint that when combined together create a blaze.

It all started with these gorgeous red paper plates, rimmed in silver sparkles because an ordinary white hue was all too normal for me to purchase.

Of course I had to have them.

Food tastes better when combined with glitter, yes?

Maybe it was because I had five one too many Skinny Pirates the night before but I thought it was a good idea to throw the shimmering piece of flimsy cardboard into the microwave in order to heat up chicken fingers (also from the previous evening that may or may not have sat on the counter all night long).

Don't worry. I'm sure I have at least 22 brain cells left.

Don’t worry.
I’m sure I have at least 22 brain cells left.

Upon closing the appliance door and setting the timer for 30 seconds, I stepped away from the kitchen, distracted by one of New Cat’s many attempts to commit suicide by sitting on the banister of my second balcony porch.

No energy to thwart suicide attempts by New Cat.

Thinking long and hard about how rough he has it in my mini manse. Fucker.

In the mere seconds I was away rescuing my idiot pussy, something started happening in the microwave.

A stench started to quickly fill the air.

By the time I got back to the kitchen, flames were bursting through the microwave door as the timer counted down to zero.

For a moment, all I could think about was the loss of my chicken tenders. My hungover ass then snapped out of it and flung the door of the appliance open to find a smoldering, disintegrating plate with burnt to a crisp pieces of poultry attached to it.

So glitter doesn't warm well.

So…… sparkles don’t warm well.

Mourning the loss of my food like broken high heel, I was further pissed off thinking that the manufacturer of this piece of shit plate didn’t list any danger warnings about putting a metallic glitter plate into the microwave for all of the dumb asses out there who apparently don’t know foil starts on fire in a microwave like yours truly.

Then I turned the crispy plate over.

WARNING

I may have missed something here.

Once I realized I wasn’t even close to being the most mediocre genius on the planet, my feelings of grief were geared toward the loss of my beloved red (because white is too normal) microwave that now smelled like a year-long bonfire had taken place inside and ceased to run properly.

Um...

The not so sparkly remnants of a small kitchen fire.

Much to my hungover delight, Target (my mothership) had a shiny red appliance just waiting for me on the store shelf later that day.

Forced to invest in a new appliance.

It’s a kitchen miracle.

Forced to utilize my lingering brain cells, I tried to figure out how to unplug the old glitter cooker from behind the refrigerator without having to move the 250 lb unit.

Not going well.

This might as well have been brain surgery.

You guys, it’s hard being a blonde with so many talents.

Help.

Help.

Who wants to come over for a fancy chicken tenders dinner and watch me put my new microwave to use tonight?

Don’t worry, I got new glitter plates.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

Crazier About My Pussy by the Day

If you’ve followed my shenanigans for long, you’re well aware that I am bat shit crazy about my cat Ted and slightly cray cray about the brother I forced upon him last year, New Cat (yep, that’s still his name).

Apparently my deranged feelings for my feline are starting to get out of control, as I went to send a picture to someone of Ted and this is who I tried to text….

Dear Teddy

Realizing no names were populating in the To: bar, it took a good 15 seconds for me to figure out why in the fuck this text wouldn’t send (being blonde is hard work).

I think it’s safe to say that I am now the number one psycho cat lady in Nashville. Hell, maybe in all of the state of Tennessee.

Anyone have a straight jacket I could borrow?

CBXB

CBXB!

Cattail Hour

Who needs humans for happy hour?

Not this bat shit crazy cat lady!

My precious pussy Ted can hardly wait for me to arrive home in the evenings so we can partake in our cattails (of course this is only a mocktail for me before I move onto Skinny Pirates).

Catail time!

Those who cattail together, stay together.

He hates drinking alone at happy hour, so I get my head under the sink with him (yes, you read that right) and liquid my liver up before I master the art of dehydrating it over the weekend.

Drink up!

Drinking alone is no fun.

For those of you feeling bad that New Cat is left out – well, that’s his own fucking fault. His brain is filled with so many dead cells that he lays in the water once the sink has been filled…

And then bitches about it.

…and then bitches about it.

Happy cattailing to you and yours on this fine feline Friday.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Pussy Party!

My Nashville weekend consisted of celebrating a pussy’s anniversary, twins entering their second year on the planet and seeing a girlfriend move to the beach (that bitch).

Celebrating New Cat not being new anymore.

Yeehaw! New Cat’s not so new anymore.

First Mate packed up her bags and moved her tiny ass to the beaches of Florida on Friday. Now I know you don’t feel sorry for her but can you feel a teeny-weeny tiny sad for me?  She’s one of my only unmarried without children friends who can still do things on a moment’s notice. Poor me…guess I’ll just have to go visit her at the beach.

Bon Voyage First Mate!

Bon Voyage First Mate!

My Iowa twosome were extremely busy gearing up for their second birthday party.

Twosome getting ready for two. Mellow Rreading time.

With a little reading time.

Mellow snow time.

With a little snow time.

Mellow hug time.

With a little hug time.

My folks and I were not only celebrating the twins in Nashville on Saturday but we were also cheering on our Iowa Hawkeye basketball team AND honoring New Cat’s first 365 days in my mini manse.

Impromptu Iowa game watch AND mini celebration for NC

Impromptu Iowa game watch combined with a mini celebration for NC.

We may or may not have done a moonshine shot every single time Iowa made a basket.

Happy with the fifth...

Who needs a touchdown?

No, we really didn’t do that.

Or did we…..?

Lead us to doing toe touches like the Golden Girls.

Relax, that’s just water in my cup.

I really did need some moonshine while trying to stuff New Cat in to his anniversary giddy up.

Not so picture purrfect.

Not so picture purrfect.

But Grammie CBXB brought in an anniversary card accompanied by a felt fish laced with catnip.  Being that I am a person who doesn’t consume anything unhealthy (unless it’s a Skinny Pirate, wine, vodka, moonshine, white whiskey or a fried food – obviously my body is my temple) it never dawned on me that New New would be interested in something that might mellow him the fuck out.

YES PLEASE.

First time for everything.

Mission accomplished.

Mission accomplished.

Helping mellow out Dada CBXB

The poor fish ended up on my dad’s teeny tiny foot.

While we were busy getting felines high, Prince and Princess B were partying hard with birthday cake and candles.

Meanwhile...

All about those babes.

Thankfully they were able to work off their sugar rush in a bouncy house.

Bounced it outta their system.

I can’t wait to jump in there with them.

Turns out, both my nephew and niece take after yours truly (much to the chagrin of their parents) in some special way…

Prince B eats just like his Auntie CBXB.

Prince B eats just like Auntie CBXB.

Why take a tiny bite when you can shove it all in at once?

And Princess B is mastering the art of a selfie.

I might as well have birthed her.

I might as well have birthed her.

No Weekend Winks post would be complete without the star of my life, Mr. Ted E. Bear, who was more than displeased that none of the weekend shenanigans had anything to do with him.

Had it with all of us party goers necause none of it had to do with him.

The world revolves around me. Shut up and let me sleep.

Obviously my cat also takes after me…

Cheers!
CBXB

CBXB!