Weekend Winks – Spanked

Losers Lane

Caution: losers ahead.

Friday started out simply fabulous with a chili cook-off at work. Being that I’m not much of a kitchen connoisseur, I opted to be a judge.

Chili

Eeny, meeny, miny….

Afterward it was time to go and prep for my dad’s birthday with assistance from my favorite pussy, of course.

Dad's birthday

What fun would wrapping be without a big fur ball in the way?

Meanwhile in Iowa, my twins were busy making their very first homemade pizza.

Pizza. Pizza.

Perfectly placing the sauce for Prince B.

Just. can't. wait.

While Princess B just. couldn’t. wait.

And the reactions to the ooey gooey goodness were cheesier than the cheese on their pizzas.

Cheeser.

Happy pizza lover.

Not only was Saturday my dad’s birthday, it was also an Iowa Hawkeye game day.Β  My dad was so excited, he grew black and yellow hair overnight.

Jazz hands for celebrating and football

Two events in one day calls for jazz hands.

Birthday bonanza

Birthday bonanza spread.

Being that my Hawks won big last week, I expected no less this week as Iowa scored first and we happily stuck to our moonshine touchdown tradition.

Shot #1 was the only one done.

Who knew we’d basically be one and done?

Little did we know, those seven points would be the only time Iowa would touch the scoreboard until the end very of the game. So to make things more interesting while watching our team get spanked, we celebrated a birthday…

Stud's birthday

Double fisting gifts.

….we stuffed our faces with my dad’s self proclaimed “best batch of ribs ever”….

Best batch ever.

They tasted as good as they looked.

… I whipped out the Whopper pie I make every year in honor of Dad growing one year older…

One whopper of an annual pie.

My mix and freeze with ease pie.

… and we did sympathy/birthday/just because shots, as losing a game as badly as we did (14-51) to a mediocre team at best is no fun sober.

Sympathy shots

Another round of ‘shine, please!

While no sports fan wants to see their team to get their own asses handed to them, at least we were having some fun.

Loser Labe

Laughing losers.

Here’s hoping your week is off to a more winning start than mine.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Thrones ‘n’ Football

Multi-screens in the mini manse, shit dip, moonshine and a brand new throne made this weekend divine.

Revenge of the shit dip.

Revenge of the shit dip.

After what felt like a year-long week, Saturday morning came a little too early after a little bit of boozing on Friday night.

Looking how I feel...

Looking how I feel. And yes, I’m the jackass who wears sunglasses in the supermarket.

I also got my ass handed to me by Princess B – you know, my fact checker for this blog.

Looking like a beast.

Not sure she likes what she’s reading.

She couldn’t stop herself from giving editorial notes while admiring herself on the small screen.

But wait, here's what it should have looked like.

But wait, here’s what it should have looked like.

After enduring the creative notes from my niece, I hustled to get ready for the weekly tailgate my folks and I have each Saturday.

All dressed up with no game to watch...

Little did we know this was a spread in search of a game.

Our tasty treats also included my gal pal Katie B’s infamous shit dip. It consists of corn, cream cheese and butter. And it tastes like heaven in your mouth.

And requires a side of toilet paper.

Trust me.

Click here for the recipe

You're seriously going to need this.

You’re seriously going to need this.

Anyone else have Comcast as their cable provider? Anyone else want to tell Comcast to suck shit?

On Saturday morning, TV the guide listed either my Iowa Hawkeye game or the Penn State game was going to air.

I checked online for the TV listings. No luck.

I called and talked to three different Comcast departments for over an hour with three of the same answers…

“We’re sorry, we can’t tell you what will air.”

How in the hell can the cable provider not know what they’re going to show? How? HOW?

Sure enough, kick-off time rolled around and the Penn State game appeared on TV in the Nashville area. So we turned my mini manse into a multi-screened viewing area with the help of my lap top and live streaming.

Just like a sports bar. Multi-screen

Just like a sports bar. Only less classy.

During the TV shenanigans, New Cat became a man whore.

Man whore

Mauling Gpa.

Gma

Mauling Gma.

I feed you. I

Mauling Mama.

Not one to miss out on any action, Teddy gave his own version of a lap dance.

Ass to the face.

An ass to Gma’s face felt appropriate.

Although we had to squint to watch our game, touchdowns still required our family tradition of moonshine shots.

Moonshine time!

TD Baby!

The halftime show consisted of a pussy trying to commit suicide, another unable to feign any emotion for the suicidal cat and a grandpa oblivious to either scene taking place around him.

A suicide, an I don't give a shit and a Gpa not paying attention. Halftime show consisted of...

Where’s a marching band when you need one?

During the second half of the game New New got so handsy with Gpa that he didn’t want to share, giving anyone that came close a death stare.

Third quarter snuggle.

Back off or I’ll bite.

I spent the rest of the third in the bathroom due to my copious amounts of my fave dip.

Shit happens.

Shit happens.

It was a good thing I’d eaten my weight in corn, as two touchdown and a victory shot waited for me in the fourth quarter.

A few more of these....

Popcorn Sutton White Whiskey for everyone!

Which made the rest of the afternoon feel like…

Moonshine Mania

Moonshine mania makes the world spin.

And copious amount of moonshine may or may not be why my masterpiece of a pizza turned out like this for supper…

Don't drink and cook.

Don’t drink and cook.

I ate it anyway. Surprise!

But not surprisingly, I ate it anyway.

Sunday found me admiring my Miami Mini Me’s newest hair accessory.

Miami Mini Me and her fabulous hair bow.

Yes she’s fabulous. And yes, I’m borrowing that bow!

And what could be more ah-mah-zing than being gifted my very own throne on a lazy afternoon?

Nothing.

Hello my love. How did I ever live without you?!

Hello my love. How did I ever live without you?!

Waving from my throne.

A classy chair for a trashtacular lady.

While I was careful to use only my wrist to wave so as not to jiggle my arm fat, this one sprawled out on his throne with a jiggly belly proudly exposed.

You want me to wave a paw at you or something?

You want me to wave a paw at you or something? Fuck off.

From our thrones to yours, here’s hoping your week is off to a fabulous start!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

Weekend Winks – BOO!zin’ Style

Skinny Pirates, Halloween decor and college football oh my!

Holla for handles of Captain! Oh how my dad knows the way to my heart...

Holla for handles of Captain!
Oh how my dad knows the way to my heart…

Friday started with Miller Lite for Camo and Captain for me as I stopped for a quick happy hour at my fave Nashville watering hole, Dalts.

Drive by drink

Drive by drink.

I only stayed for a few Skinny Pirates, as I’d been bit by the Halloween bug (yes, I know it’s still September and no, I don’t really give a shit).Β  It was mass chaos as I felt the need to unload every single piece of Halloween decor I owned before even attempting to decorate (maybe six a few Skinny Pirates and holiday embellishment don’t mix).

Halloween nightmare.

Don’t drink and decorate.

While I kept sipping on my Captain, my two fraidy cats felt the need to inspect the nooks and crannies of every box and bin.

Two fraidy cat helpers.

Expert Halloween helpers.

I decided to wave the white flag in Halloween adornment surrender as the wee hours of Saturday morning were fast approaching and I was reminded by my nephew, Prince B what awaited me the following morning.

Hawkeye time!

Iowa Hawkeye game day!

I headed out to game watch with my folks, where we nervously hoped for touchdowns in order to squeeze our moonshine tradition into Saturday.

Moonshine

Hawks score!

Posers

Moonshine mania posers.

Never ceases to amaze me.

This special spirit ever ceases to amaze me.

There’s no better accompaniment to moonshine than my dad’s ribs (his “best batch ever” is a phrase uttered each time he prepares them) and they didn’t disappoint this weekend.

Washing down moonshine

Ribs ‘n’ shine.

While I couldn’t stuff my face with ribs any faster than a competitive eater, my niece was busy discovering her favorite flavor of salad dressing.

Face Stuff

The Face Stuff

Face Smother The girl loves her ranch, OK?

The Face Smother
Screw the Hawks game. Gimme my ranch.

Seems as if she’s taking after Auntie CBXB more and more every day with her classy ways. Be still my beating heart.

After a Hawks victory and a quick wardrobe change, it was time to sit in a standstill on my way to Mrs. America’s (who joined me in a reality sizzle reel earlier this year) house.

Is there anything more fun than sitting in an interstate parking lot? Everything. Everything is more fun.

Is there anything more fun than sitting in an interstate parking lot?
Everything. Everything is more fun.

But it was all worthwhile when I laid eyes on Mrs. America who, along with her three princesses and hubby, just moved back to Nashville. Yeehaw!

Miss and Mrs. America.

Miss Trashtacular and Mrs. America.

While we were celebrating good fortune of her fabulous new house and positive network feedback on our sizzle, I ran across some extremely special decorative pieces from Mrs. America’s past.

We love us.

I’m demanding she spotlight these over her bed in the master.

It was all fun and games Sunday, trying to sneak in some last rays of summer sun before it turns into crispy fall weather.

Sneaky sneaky.

Sneaky sun success.

When the clouds rolled in, Ted demanded I get my ass in gear and finish garnishing our mini manse in all things black and orange.

Demanding I finish up this mess.

Get this shit cleaned up. NOW.

Turns out Mr. Bear had an ulterier motive, as I was mauled the rest of the weekend.

Because it was time for couch and cuddles.

Tag team.

Happy fall y’all!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

Weekend Winks – Football Fail

The failure of my fave football teams showing up and kicking ass this weekend didn’t deter me from having an overall fabulous time with the fam in our usual Saturday shenanigans.

Jell-O shot jiggler

Jell-O shot jigglers.

Game day began with Ted and I sharing breakfast – he goes straight for the cheese while I stick to my egg.

Pussy approved breakfast.

Pussy approved breakfast.

While my fur ball was busy scarfing down my food, the twins were taste testing apples at an Iowa orchard.

Apple orchard cuties

Apple orchard cuties.

Snow White

Our family’s version of Snow White….

As the Iowa Hawkeyes kickoff drew near, New Cat assumed his position as greeter, anxiously awaiting our arrivals.

Game day greeter

Game day greeter.

The bar was stocked with my dad’s rot gut vodka (Taaka vodka could seriously start your throat on fire if you chose to smoke a cigarette while consuming), my beloved Captain and Popcorn Sutton White Whiskey was on standby for our traditional touchdown shots.

Cocktails - full bar

Stocked bar, warm bellies.

Naturally we can’t have cocktails galore without tasty tailgating treats.

Tailgating tasties

Let the game day grazing begin!

My mini manse morphed into a brief media room when we were unable to get our Hawkeye game on TV due to the previous game running long. Typically this would simply be an inconvenience but since it was our in state rivalry game – the Iowa Hawkeyes vs. the Iowa State Cyclones, we were antsy to get the football show on the bigger screen.

TV fail

Double vision.

My pussies were less than impressed to be kicked off the couch and resorted to the front window, where they plotted how to keep their mother sleepless on a Saturday night.

Waaay into the game.

Your football game is stupid and you will pay.

Ignoring the holes being scorched into my head from the kit cats, moonshine was passed around for two Hawkeye touchdowns.

Touchdown...two in three minutes. #sos

Cockier with every swig of this cocktail.

Busy with moonshine, Skinny Pirates and the football game, I turned my back for one second and found New Cat perusing among the food.

Up to no....

New New is fully of naughty.

And when I whipped back around from scolding the pesky pussy, my Hawkeyes had lost the game by a last second Cyclone field goal.

FAIL.

No bragging rights this year.

Not only did I promise to be done with my team (fair weathered fan right here) this year in my post game misery, Ted wallowed in this disappointing loss by demanding a belly rub.

So upset, he needed a belly rub.

Rub me now, Bitch.

Drowning the rest of my Saturday sorrows in Skinny Pirates, I was able to get my ass to Target (my mothership) Sunday morning for the debut of the Altuzarra for Target line.Β  And rolling out of bed for this proved worthwhile as Altuzarra produced beyond cute merch that I was able to manhandle, making my football heavy heart skip a beat.

Sunday religion  Altuzarra for Target

My version of church.

Back to the mini manse in time for the Tennessee Titans game, New Cat could barely watch as the Dallas Cowboys kicked some Nashville tail.

Dismal display by the Titans

Is this football bullshit over yet?

Discouraged by the outlook of football season for my teams, I blew off the losing steam with a run in the crispy fall sun.

Lipstick and lunged my way through the park. Let off steam...

Lipstick and lunged my way through the park.

And then I parked it for Sunday night date night with my fave feline.

Wine and pussy time.

Wine and pussy time.

Cheers to a fabulous week my friends!

CBXB!

 

How to Conduct a Trashtacular Moonshine Toast

Keepin' the family tradition alive...

Keepin’ the family tradition alive…

Being from such a classy clan, we started a tradition a few years ago to celebrate every touchdown or field goal that our favorite college football team, the Iowa Hawkeyes, score with a shot of one’s choice (this way no matter what the outcome of the game, you can have fun – even if your team sucks (which is how this lovely tradition began). Unless they score nothing of course, and if that’s the case, get a new team).

This past weekend, my dad really upped ante (and kept it Southern) by blowing the dust off of a jar of moonshine for our required celebratory shots.

Popcorn Sutton White Whiskey (it's called whiskey instead of moonshine because they pay taxes).

Popcorn Sutton White Whiskey (it’s called white whiskey instead of moonshine because they pay taxes).

In order to prep for a trashtacular toast (and be sure you’re ready for a photo-op), you must first be sure your three free fingers that aren’t holding the shot glass are available for a partial jazz hand.

Digits

Digits prepped and ready.

Second, make sure your ‘do is did. Right before this pic was snapped, my dad said, “I hope I combed my hair.”

Either way, it was too late as the toast was already in motion.

Hair

What hair? The one strand on top of your head?

Next, be sure you prolong the inevitable by clinking your glasses several times.

Don't forget the fingers.

Again, don’t forget the fingers.

Then before you take the shot, say something really clever like my dad, who said, “You know, once you go moonshine you never……….”

*Silence*

*Crickets*

Feel free to borrow this toast whenever you shoot moonshine next.

Down the hatch slowly...

Trepidatious cheers.

Boom!

Down the hatch…

Smooth?

Smooth. But hopefully the Hawks don’t score again until the second half.

Never one to be at a loss for words (unless he’s conducting a toast), my dad concluded our initial shot by saying, “Best shine I ever had.”

My response followed, “Oh no shit, Dad. It’s the first time you’ve ever had moonshine,” (although Popcorn Sutton is awfully tasty – it also mixes well with lemonade or Diet Coke for you white whiskey connoisseurs that aren’t down with our family tradition of straight shooting).

While we were hemming and hawing over the “best shine ever,” the Hawkeyes scored again.

Again?!

For F’s sake. Again?! And again. And again.

So even if your team loses (like ours did in the last ten seconds), you can have some bright, shiny fun watching the game anyway with a little bit of Southern likker.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!