Take Your Chug to Work Day

Being that today is National Take Your Dog to Work Day, I couldn’t leave my Precious behind with all of the pussies in the mini manse.

Not another day with the pussies.

Not another day with the pussies.

Hell, I take the chug (chihuahua/pug mix) everywhere else I go…

Bitches do have more fun, you know.

Bitches do have more fun, you know.

Shop 'til we drop.

Supermarket sweep in the dog aisle.

We get our hair done together.

Dynamic duo getting gussied up together.

She helps select plants for my black thumb to slowly kill over the summer.

Perfectly picking out plants for my black thumb to slowly kill over the summer.

So when I asked P if she wanted to join me at the workplace today she was all –

The longing to go to work look.

WHAT?!

Ready.

Ready.

So I stuffed her into the Louis and she was carried through the streets of downtown Nashville in style.

A lift through downtown Nashville in Louis Vuitton style.

No autographs please.

She may join in on a meeting or two during the day.

May join in a meeting or two. Like a boss.

Like a boss.

Presh will claim my chair as her throne knowing she’ll still be overthrown.

Throne for Precious.

Making room for mom.

Throne fit for two.

When she gets tired of my ample ass in her face, she’s got her own personal air conditioner.

Keeping cool with her own personal air conditioner.

The way her mane blows, she might as well be in a Suave commercial.

Precious has a knack for knowing things – like she’s the cutest dog in the entire universe. But she really loves reading all of the accolades she’s showered with when arriving to the workplace.

Basically, she’s the pretty girl at the party who pretends to not know she’s pretty so people tell her she’s pretty.

Yeah, that’s Precious.

Adorn me. Now.

Adore me. Now.

So all of the office peeps follow orders and fawn all over P like it’s their job.

IMG_2872

IMG_2870

Naturally after all of this hard work today, I’m taking Presh out for a round at happy hour.

A few dogtails will be had in celebration of a successful day.

A few dogtails will be had in celebration of a successful day.

One proud mama.

One proud mama.

The best part about this national Take Your Dog to Work Day? It’s on a fucking Friday.

Hallelujah!

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!