Weekend Winks – Holy Shits, Dips and Shots

There’s all kinds of crazy taking place in my Nashville bubble and I can’t say that I hate it.

Precious and I made our Billboard.com debut in music artist Ryan Kinder’sStill Believe in Crazy Love,” (scroll all of the way to the bottom of the article to watch the entire) video. There’s a long, fabulous story behind this experience I will share later (regarding Rapegate) but I did what any normal person does when they have their two seconds of fame.

Celebrating on a budget.

No pawtographs, please.

Naturally, I had to go out to toast my newfound famousness and First Mate was happy to oblige my obsession with myself.

Why am I not being bombarded?

While I basked in my glow of nothingness, the Iowa twins continue to morph into little people and are more hilarious than ever.

Princess B has been rocking pigtails, enjoying the Indian summer above the Mason Dixon line while she cheers her bro on in anything sports related.

Smiles for miles.

No. No it does not get any cuter.

Speaking of sports, I’ve been nil reporting on our tailgating shenanigans and Dada CBXB and I were in full force this weekend.

Her version of tailgating.

Our version of tailgating included almost every liquor under the sun, my dad’s self-dubbed “World Famous Wings,” the blogfamous “Eat Shit and Die Guacamole,” and snacks to soak up our hope of scoring any points against the number four ranked Penn State.

Spread right.

I made sure to be gussied up with sparkles and shine for a little extra luck for my Hawks.

Black, gold and perfectly bold Keds for Kate Spade sneakers.

Trying to one up Gwen Stefani by wearing my boyfriend’s face on my shirt instead of my shoe.

Much to our delight, we were able to do a traditional touchdown shot right before halftime because the Hawkeyes scored. Yeehaw!

We just wanted to drink….we didn’t think it’d actually be a good game!

As the second half wore on, our Cinderella team grew thisclose to beating the Nittany Lions with a last minute touchdown. Did you hear me screaming Saturday night?

 

The Hawkeyes did not hear my victory cries because they lost during the last play of the game with four seconds left. But we did an “E” for effort shot and are proud fans for hanging that close as an unranked, always overlooked team.

How ’bout them Hawks?!

Losers brunch was delish, as it was my dad’s self-dubbed “World Famous Omelette,” which never disappoints.

Breakfast of non-champions.

It’s been just over a month since I suddenly lost the furry little love of my life, Ted. And while I can’t yet write a full post about the magnitude of his loss to me, I miss him every single second of every single day.

But funny how I saw this Facebook memory and within minutes received a message from the gal who runs the cat rescue in which I’m a poster child, saying there may be someone I should go check out at Pet Smart if I was ready.

I have a love/hate relationship with the fucking memories that pop up on Facebook daily.

It took all of four seconds with my torso in the kennel to decide what the next chapter of pussy life will be like at the mini manse.

READY

A little shopping around with my newest pussy and shooting our first selfie before heading home.

Who doesn’t do this?

While the newest member of the fam has decided his fave place is under my bed, updates will follow as I mold him into my sidekick. Boy, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s in for – hope he’s ready by Halloween for matching outfits.

Here’s to having a fabulous week.

Cheers!

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!

Pussy Pandemonium

Apparently being traumatized by another human being in a life altering event makes one feel the need to buy love. For me, acquiring affection isn’t in the form of old-fashioned hookers or new-fashioned Bumble (seriously, what is that?) but through the purchase of pussies. Three too many of them.

You see Mama CBXB thought it’d be a good idea to get my thoughts on something other than an ongoing police case, the fact I have no employment, the furball love of my life Ted developed a serious heart condition within two weeks and wanted to provide me some light life focus.

So she decided to buy me a kitten.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

How can you say no to this face?         You don’t.

First, I was leery. I mean Teddy is used to being the main attraction of all things CBXB (even though he shared the spotlight with our dearly departed, highly annoying but oh-so-loved New Cat for a bit). With that in mind, it was still end of story when we entered Pet Smart on what just happened to be National Adoption Weekend.

How much is that pussy in the window?

How much is that pussy in the window?

I don't hate this idea.

It didn’t take long for me to warm up to the idea.

Upon putting my hand in a pile of young pussies, I pulled out a sweet faced baby who was already dubbed Elsa. Being that the Iowa twins favor that princess most, I fell in love and this kitten hit the jackpot. All I needed to do was check the fuck out with my newest family member.

No name change for the Princess.

No name change for the Princess.

But then I stood up and was met with piercing green eyes peering out of a cage, staring so hard through my soul I could almost feel the two holes burned into my forehead.

You know you want me too.

You know you want me too.

I just had to get into the cage to see what was going on with this emerald eyed monster who immediately head butted my face, accompanied by a swift lick when I tried to crawl into the metal house with her.

Hi there. Care if I join?

Hi there. Care if I join?

Turns out this black beauty had an extremely shy brother sleeping in the back of the cage who wasn’t adapting well to being in a rescue. These four-year-old siblings were surrendered by some asswipe who decided they couldn’t care for them anymore.

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

I then decided to check all three of them out at once, testing the waters.

Totally under control.

Totally under control.

My arms of steel were able to squeeze all of the felines tight enough to keep them in my crazy cat lady grip just long enough to not triple second guess my decision to take them all.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

And just like that, the operator of Sweet Faces Cat & Kitten Rescue agreed to let me take the ‘triplets’ home to the mini manse, where Ted and Precious the chug unknowingly awaited the new arrivals.

Penny and her #1 customer.

Penny and her #1 customer.

 

MVP of the weekend.

MVP of the weekend.

 

What is about to happen?

What is about to happen?

In keeping with my love of all things Griswold family, I decided to name my newly obtained family members after Cousin Eddie’s kids.

Rocky - the strong, silent type.

Rocky – the strong, silent type.

Ruby Sue - possibly missing a brain cell or two.

Ruby Sue – possibly missing a brain cell or ten.

And as I said before, the baby remains Princess Elsa in honor of my Iowa twins.

P

They love animated Elsa. I love the fur ball version.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones.

The ride home from Pet Smart was eerily quiet with each cat in a newly purchased cardboard box (as I didn’t intend on coming home with any furry addition). Not a peep, meow, hiss, growl or howl was uttered.  And nothing was said as I introduced each new family member to Mr. Bear and Presh one by one. The transition from being a cray cray cat lady to borderline animal hoarder was smooth sailing for everyone.

Cautious cats.

Princess and King, cautious friends at first.

Warm

Warm and fuzzies after about four minutes.

Turns out, Tedstar likes being the big man in the mini manse – but refuses to acknowledge his contentment.

Butt buddies.

Butt buddies.

Nightly ritual.

Nightly ritual.

Brotherly love.

Brotherly love.

Mauling mania.

Mauling mania.

I know, I know, I’m thisclose to being a stereotypical cliché given the fact that I’m an unmarried, candle loving, drinks wine alone while watching sappy Lifetime movies and I live in a literal animal house. But guess what? I don’t give a fuck.

I inspired this action figure.

I inspired this action figure.

Nashvillians know me by name.

Famous among Nashvillians, obviously.

IMG_0776

Let’s be honest – no one snickers behind my back because I have the type of family and friends who will ridicule me to my face with the hopes that I do not in any way shape or form turn into this woman…

Please intervene if it my situation gets this dire.

Please intervene if my situation gets this dire.

But you know, while I feel good about saving three more sweet souls in the end, I wonder who is really saving whom?

Saved.

Can’t help but love the crazy, pussy pandemonium can you?

CBXB

CBXB!