Weekend Winks – I’m Baaaaaack!

Did you miss me while I was on a CBXB extended blogging vacay? Well, I sure as shit missed you!

Plunging right back into the classy party style life I lead was beyond easy this weekend with a visit from my bestie Scooby and his husband, Mr. Scooby.

My hair soulmate is all the way to the left...

Keeping it real. Real classy in Nashville.

See, Mr. Scooby and his friend Royal came to run the Country Music Half Marathon over the weekend.


Half of our group ran.

Half of our group got drunk while waiting for the runners.

Half of our group got drunk in the car while waiting for the runners.

When Scooby and I decided to take our party to the finish line, we were so busy taking selfies we failed to see either of our runners cross the finish line.

Too busy

But damn we looked good!

Once we found our competitors, I immediately forced Mr. Scooby to take off his shirt. You know, to help him cool off.

Shirt off for rest of weekend. THank you.

I hated walking around with him.

Although my two gorgeous gays ran their asses off, I was able to sneak into their spotlight.

Just a little photo bomb.

And they thought this day was about them.

While I was very busy trying to photo bomb every single picture the rest of the afternoon, my Iowa twins were accomplishing amazing feats of their own.

Who doesn't sit on the toilet in the kitchen?

Who doesn’t sit on the toilet in the kitchen?

Best place to read, obviously.

Best place to read, obviously.

There was a handsome potty training reward of Princess B’s all time favorite food/snack/meal/nourishment.


Will potty for salsa.

Will potty for salsa.

A half marathon completion calls for drinking. Especially for those of us who had to stand and cheer in between gulps of champagne.

Carry on.

Celebratory cocktails!

And what kind of party would this be if we didn’t keep on drinking right until brunch the following day?


Still going strong.

Partying with Reba

A Royal, a Reba and rare sober moment for CBXB.

My sobriety didn’t last long, as it was two for one mimosas and this is was the last round looked like at brunch…


We were really thirsty.

Upon finding ourselves out of libations, I forced Scooby to drink something that we hadn’t touched all weekend.

Water is so disgusting.

Water is so disgusting.

Who wants to go home after a morning full of cocktailing?

Not this crew. So we headed to my fave honky tonk to carry on the celebratory shenanigans.

Fave honky otnk

We don’t want the party to end.

Day drinking that turns into night drinking makes everyone feel sexy.

Especially when putting sunglasses on.

In a bar.

When it’s dark outside.

Sunglasses at night are so sexy. In 1981.

Sunglasses at night are so sexy. If it was 1981.

400 drinks in, we started with the photo shoots.

Model purrfect.

Perfect tipsy models.

And made strangers with wild hair become a part of our party.

My hair soulmate is all the way to the left...

Still sexy and we know it.

432 cocktails in, I became we became expert two steppers.

Dancing with someone who thinks she's a star.

Royal was forced to dance with someone who thinks she’s a star.

Upon giving him two very bruised feet, Royal took longer to recover from dancing with my graceless ass than he did his half marathon.


Straight women are exhausting.

And after the heartbreaking goodbye to my fave gays, this happened the rest of the weekend…

Couch? Check.

Pussy on shoulder? Check.

Sunglasses on until 11pm? Check.


Just keepin’ it real.

Here’s hoping your week is off to a semi-sober start.





Weekend Winks – ‘Tis the Season

Where's my Cousin Eddie?

Where’s Cousin Eddie when you need him?

Dirty Santa parties are fun. But they’re even more fun when played at work. With booze. Lots of booze.

Why party without booze?

Who would party without this? Who?!

In between Dirty Santa steals, I was honored to take part in my buddy Thing 1’s first ever selfie.

Selfie success!

Selfie success after 1,285 attempts.

Thing 1 fell so in love with the idea of selfies, he kept snapping pictures of us instead of others.

Still selfieing. Can't stop. Won't stop with the selfies.

Can’t stop. Won’t stop with the selfies.

And while we were in selfie heaven, virtual presents started rolling in for yours truly. My fellow cat lady Kimberly and her hubs found a perfect sized flask for all of my needs…

Wonder why they thought of me?

Wonder why they thought of me?

And this cute little starter kit keeps finding its way onto my Facebook page…Pete, Michelle, Mama CBXB and Aunt Crazy Pants have all seen these little faces and thought appropriate for me. Ted would like me to tell you to “go fuck yourself” (his words, not mine) as our hands are full with New Cat.

Purrrfect present for me.

Purrrfect present for me.

One of my besties, Princess Rosebud, (Enchanted Seashells herself!) snail mailed me a prezzie with the best gift tag ever…

And this is why I love her.

And this is why I love her.

My boss and his wife need to get to know me a little better because they gifted me this shit for Christmas…

I wish they knew me better.

Sparkly skull Uggs. I can now die happy.

Speaking of gifting, it was time to shell out my hard-earned $60 for prescription cat food (you know, low maintenance Ted has kitty Celiac’s disease) this weekend and New Cat acted like it was Christmas morning upon seeing the food bin full.

Heaven. See, Ted told you our hands were full with this pussy.

See, Ted told you our hands were full with this pussy.

Bowl full of food.

Bowl full of food but New New still feels the need to eat like a pig at a trough.

As my pussy was stuffing his tuxedo face, my sweet little Iowa niece Princess B was experiencing her first sugar cookie of the season.

Face full of cookie

Face full of cookie.

Meanwhile, her brother Prince B was more interested in climbing ladders.


Life father, like son.

You wanna know why Nashville is so fun? It’s still ‘small’ enough that you can be out and about and run into peeps you know…like old gal pals from previous jobs.

Iowa girls rock (and we know it).

Iowa girls rock (and we know it).

Speaking of gal pals, it was First Mate’s birthday which most definitely called for some sneaky surprise celebrating (isn’t that the best way?).

Happy birthday First Mate!

Have hats, will party.

Winding the weekend down called for some sexy CBXB lingerie. Being that it’s holiday time and I am in love with everything Griswold family, I slipped into the sexiest t-shirt I could locate…

Slipping into something ultra comfortable.

Yes, please save the neck for me, Clark.

Good thing this little guy could care less what I am wearing, just as long as he can lay on it.

Cuddle buddy

Christmastime cuddles.

Now go slip into something comfy and enjoy the rest of this holiday week.






Pussy Self Portrait


Our feline buddy Mr. Bowie, the handsome kit cat over at Hands On Bowie posted about how he took a selfie with a relatively new iOS app perfectly called Cat Selfie.  Being the cray cray cat lady I am, the app immediately found a home on my phone in about three seconds flat. I could barely wait to show Ted how to take selfies. The only problem was, I had to figure the f’ing app out myself (being blonde is super hard work).


What the F?

Once you open the app, a little flashing lazer zooms all over the screen to attract attention from the always unimpressed cat. Every time the screen on your device is touched, a photo is taken and saved in your pictures. Had I mentally processed the not complicated in the slightest directions, I would have avoided looking like such a confused dumb ass on my test run. I ended up erasing 106 of my own selfies once I masted the art of simply touching the mother f’ing screen.

When I showed the laser to Ted, he instantly became his own Annie Leibovitz instructing himself how to pose and then capturing the (im)perfect shot.

Attempt 1

I could hear TB thinking, “God, I look good.”


Action on the couch shot.


His final masterpiece.

While these photos won’t end up anywhere but my refrigerator (cat moms post ‘artwork’ too), Mr. Bear now he thinks he’s a Cat Selfie connoisseur.

I’ve created a monster.