Weekend Winks – Cinco de Drinko

How can you cram in the Kentucky Derby, Cinco de Mayo AND a Nashville Predators hockey play-off game all in one day?

Piece of cake for this liver of mine.

Oh how the anticipation of a Friday feels so good. A long week of work and an even longer week of insane non-fake news calls for a pit stop at my fave watering hole, Dalts.

Skinny Pirates for celebration and consoling.

There was something ultra empowering for victims of sexual assault this week, as America’s former favorite TV dad was found guilty in court for his heinous acts. As he fucking should have been in the first place after nearly five dozen women came forward and spoke out – and keep in mind these are his victims that chose to speak up. Think about the countless others who remain silent for their own reasons. I can’t wait for this man to rot the rest of his life away.


On the far end of the negative spectrum, my home state, Iowa, that has always been my pride and joy, took women’s rights back about 50 years. BY THE FEMALE GOVERNOR. Now, I don’t care where you stand on abortion – however, this new legislation prevents abortions after six weeks of pregnancy. SIX WEEKS. Most of my friends who have had children, didn’t know they were pregnant until well after this point. Even if a child is molested and becomes pregnant, or a pregnancy occurs because of rape, the victims only have 45 days to speak up before they must keep the baby. FUCK THAT SHIT.

I mean, if the government truly thinks humans were put on this Earth to procreate, men shouldn’t be able to masturbate to fruition because, the sperm ejaculated could have produced a baby, right?


All that being said, Dalts was happy to see Camo and Captain doing our drinking thang.

Camo with crazy runaway bride eyes – you guys remember her?

While I was sipping on Skinny Pirates, awaiting Mama CBXB’s arrival to Nashville, my Iowa twins were enjoying the simple treats in life…baseball and ice cream.

While I had my mini sombrero laid out for Cinco de Meowy, I had major tugging at my heartstrings when this popped up in my Facebook feed.

I have a love/hate relationship with these goddamn Facebook memories.

While I was a tad teary eyed Saturday, the twins were all giggle and games in celebration of Cinco de Mayo.

Princess B didn’t let dizziness deter her.


Prince B was a bit further from the tail…


I tried gussying up with a new product for the celebratory holiday – magnetic false eye lashes. It went about how you’d expect with me.


False eyelash-less, I hosted a small party for my NHL Stanley Cup hopeful Nashville Predators. Bird Lady, First Mate, Mama CBXB and yours truly partied regardless of the dismal performance by the Preds. They ended up losing at home 6-2…but the drinkos kept being poured anyhow.

Derby Success.
Cinco de Drinko Success.
Predators FAIL.

A gorgeous Sunday was made for a fun day of errands. Specifically to my second mothership, where I picked up a cat tree fit for my four pussies. Mama CBXB gifted it to her grandcats as a late Christmas gift.

Cray Cray Cat Lady version of Sunday Funday.

I was a usual shit show carrying it to the car, adorning the dumpster wedding veil I keep in my trunk “just in case,” to load the tower into my vehicle. I mean, I didn’t want to crush it, so I put it on.

Who doesn’t do this?

After clearing a little room for plants, we picked up a few flowers to help my black thumbs (I killed a cactus this winter) morph more toward green. Upon arriving home, the pussies couldn’t decide whether to climb on the cat nip loaded tower or eat all of the greenery and throw up.

Decisions. Decisions.

Fabio declaring his space.

Ruby Sue nestled right in.

Rocky couldn’t be bothered to try either, as he was near comatose on the bed.

Fine here, thanks.

Elsa Pants, aka Stank Face, bucked the trend and went for the plants.

…she owns this title.

I can’t wait to see what she’s left for me after work today.




Weekend Winks – Lights, Santa, Action!

The most wonderful time of the year…has been really fucking hard for me to get into the past few seasons. So in an attempt to kick-start my holiday merriment, I went to see the lights at Nashville’s Opryland Hotel on Friday. Every year, they decorate their botanical gardens with millions (or maybe thousands) of lights throughout the property.

Light show captured by @steve_zeinner.

This trip used to be tradition but I just haven’t been in the mood the last three years, so I forced the fucking spirit – even if it almost killed me. Which it did because if you take a look at the doors to your right in the photo, the platform I had to jump up to was well beyond my physical skill set. But goddamnit I got up there.

It only took 8.9 minutes for me to jump onto this platform.

The lights and music did help (along with a few martinis) rally me into the festive spirit.

While I was creating holiday mojo, my Iowa twins were gearing up to ride the Polar Express to see Santa.

Cuteness overload.

Not excited.

At all.

When they finally got to the man in red, Princess B tried putting the moves on him by holding his hand (as I’ve said before I couldn’t have birthed her better myself).

Nothing but love.

While the twins were living it up on the pseudo North Pole, I was taking the newest addition of the mini manse to the vet. For…ultra attractive, not at all disgusting worm treatment.

I had one pissed off pussy on my hands but Fabio took his butt treatment like a champ – and then we also discovered he had ear mites. Poor dude. All is well now and none of the other members of my pussy gang have contracted either squirmy, wormy ailments, thankfully.

Last week when I had family in town, a cactus that was cut from my Grandpa’s (who passed over ten years ago) was delivered to me (thank you S.S.). However, being that I have no green thumbs (pink only for me of course), it’s already turning a bit brown. How do I save it? I’ve seriously had this thing for maybe 12 days and I’m already murdering it. Anyone?

Cactus SOS.

While the spirit of any holiday has been hard to jump into, life in general has been a fucking challenge of late. And, again with friends and supporters like you, it’s all but heart exploding when I get reminders like this from you guys. These reminders always come at the perfect time.

Reminder well received Allidme.

Not sure if you guys remember but I am a huge Iowa Hawkeye football fan. A little earlier this year our mediocre team beat the shit out of a nationally ranked number five team THE Ohio State University Buckeyes whom I loathe (although, this team is the reason Dada CBXB and I started the Touchdown Shot tradition) with a score of 55-24.

And we don’t hate it.

Even though Ohio State went to win the Big Ten Conference championship on Saturday night, they were snubbed hard when the top four selections of teams came out on Sunday, being eeked out by Alabama, thanks in part to the Iowa ass kicking.

You’re welcome Bama fans.

Sorry not sorry for the cockblock of THE Ohio State University.

While running errands to put some holiday touches in the mini manse, I couldn’t believe my alcoholic eyes when I saw Target actually sold corks for decor.

I have about 429 corks around my mini if anyone wants to buy them.

Princess B acquired a cold after all of the Santa excitement. Luckily for everyone involved at her castle, she had her own remedy plan put in place.

I uncorked a bottle of vino (which brings my total to 430) and hopped in the bubbles for a long winter’s bath (even though it’s 70 degrees in Nashville).

Turns out that was an ideal move by yours truly as I sat in over an hour of traffic on a route to work that usually takes me 15 minutes.

Good thing I found this gem shopping yesterday to help with my Monday woes.

Dreams do come true.

All in all, the weekend got me festive enough to slowly start embracing the Christmas cheer.

Ready to get this holidaze shit show started.



Weekend Winks – Leading and Loving It

My Nashville weekend kicked off at my fave watering hole, Dalts.

Fun times

Wishing Friday nights were fun.

While we were busy whooping it up and throwing jazz hands down at one end of the bar…


What’s a Friday without a jazz hand?

…the other end of the bar was hosting the worst date of the year…

Date nightmare.

Very clear chemistry.

…and the men were lining up to ask me out.

Can you see me now?

Can you see me now?

Does it shock anyone (anyone?) reading that I had another birthday celebration?


Showing off the silver bag while being photo bombed.

We then able to played around the world with my gifted sake, homemade apple brandy, my Skinny Pirate and a Miller Lite. Did we miss anything?


Fabulous foursome.

My fave bartender, Marjia even got in on the photo fun by posing with my buddy’s sixer – and yes, that’s how they serve him.

Marjia the Bartender

Perfect presentation.

While I slept Saturday morning away, the Iowa twins were basking in the glory of a new play set.

Play on.

Play on.

My niece also proudly displayed her pink cowboy boots that came from Auntie CBXB…

Shit kickers

Shit kickin’ after my own heart!

Seeing the fun she was having parading in her boots, I decided to prance around in my Prada kitten heels.

Prada Prance.

TJ Maxx score of the century.

Upon returning back to the mini manse, I had a fun surprise awaiting my arrival.


Who doesn’t like a Nordstom bag hanging on their door?

Which ended up being a belated birthday gift well worth the wait – a pink Alexander McQueen scarf.

Wish knew me better.

Wish my friends knew me better.

Turns out while Mama was away, the cats played and broke into an outlawed bag of food. This bag was in a closet that the little monsters pried open and drug to the kitchen. Being that it is not Mr. Ted E. Bear’s $60 prescription duck and pea food, he’ll surely be getting sick any second. Little beasts.

Gone too long.

Gone too long.

On Sunday I went with the slicked back no bangs look, as I am waffling on whether or not to grow them out. Thoughts?

No bangs Sunday

Bangs or no bangs? #firstworldproblems

What good is a weekend if you don’t sweat out the toxins before shoving more in?

Walk it out.

Bloody Marys for me after a jog.

My new mantra greeted me at mile marker four.


You know it.

As the end of my weekend came to a close, I tried to finish the 391 loads of laundry seeping into all areas of the mini manse. Ted was a gigantic help.


Folding laundry is exhausting.

Here’s hoping you have a week’s worth of clean clothes and cocktail to keep it fun.








Oh how I love my heels.

They’re fun to prance around in, add height to my shortish frame and clickity clack when I walk all over the office (driving co-workers to want to put their head in a pencil sharpener) announcing my presence before my booming voice can do it for me.

Love me

Fee-fi-fo-fum I’m stomping around just for fun.

I especially love when I score a pair of Sam Edelman’s at TJ Maxx and must showcase immediately.

TJ Love

Yep. I’m a Maxxinista.

Thing is, I often feel like I can do regular tasks while wearing my stilts.  For instance at work, I needed to move the kitchen table to make room for another chair.

Why take my heels off when I could look fashionable while performing an ordinary chore?

Tough table

No table is too tough for my stiletto adorned feet.

As I was moving the chairs here and there….

Tough Table

Three’s a crowd.

…I accidentally stepped on the top of my left foot with the right heel of my fabulous pumps and this happened…


Down the rabbit hole with no Alice in sight.

As I ungracefully hit the concrete floor, my eyes were greeted with black ceiling tiles once I was able to open them after being clenched shut due to the precise pin pointing of pain I inflicted on my own foot (which would be blonde moment 1, 568,209).


Hello Blondie. You’re an idiot in your shoes.

Before I could glance around, making sure I made an ass out of myself for my entertainment only, I felt my eyes get watery.

NOT crying. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

While the coast was clear of anyone being around for the assault on myself, I collected the small amount of my dignity remaining and turned my attention to my throbbing toe.


Yep. Definitely stilet-toed.

Still hobbling around at work, there’s nothing twenty a few cocktails can’t cure over the weekend, right?

Nothing a drink can't fix!

Oh Teddy! Mama needs a refill!

I wonder what would happen if I stumble over my own two feet in my house slippers?

I’ll keep you posted.



Weekend Winks – Fiesta Style

Winter officially hit Nashville this weekend (if you call 30 degrees cold) and to brave the chill, I did what any gal does. I drank cocktails ’til my belly was all warm and cozy.

I ordered a vodka rocks cocktail as soon as my ass hit the bar stool Friday night.  Little did I know that it was buy one, get one so I was presented with the tallest glass of vodka I’ve ever seen, so I carefully sipped instead of my typical guzzle.

Vodka tastes so good.

Glasses of vodka taste so good.

While I was living it up, Teddy was apparently throwing a fiesta at our mini manse. The fabulous Wandering Poet from the blog Andy Kaufman’s Kavalkade Krew captured the Bear in all of his party glory and tweeted me this photo evidence.

Tequila Teddy

Tequila Teddy via #TeddyTunes on Twitter. Famous little pussy of mine!

Mr. Bear apparently pulled an all nighter because I was rudely awoken in the wee morning hours Saturday to a cat trying to figure out how to be louder than my white noise machine. He was incessant that I open my eyeballs for the sake of opening my eyeballs.



Realizing that sleep wasn’t going to happen for me, I did what all good cat moms do. Got up and made myself a college game day cocktail.


Cocktails make early mornings better.

And while I was up four hours earlier than normal, I decided to let Christmas explode in the mini manse.

I have a problem. It's called Christmas.

I have a problem. It’s called Christmas.

But I was able to get everything up and in its place before kick-off.

Up and glittering for the game.

My beloved holiday deer up and glittering for the Hawks.

While my folks and I weren’t together for the game, I still honored our moonshine touchdown tradition (who am I to break a family tradition?!).  Call it a pre-Christmas miracle but my Iowa Hawkeyes got a win!

Double duty as not with my folks this game day.

Keeping the ritual alive and kickin’.

With most of the day left on Saturday, I took my celebrating to TJ Maxx, where I found a deal that made me squeal. Literally. In the aisle of TJ Maxx, almost giving an elderly lady a heart attack.

Juicy deal.

Juicy deal.

I love me some Juicy Couture but due to the prices, can’t always (well never, really) purchase any of the goods I long for. So you can imagine my sheer delight when I found a dress originally priced at $158.00 marked down to $25.

Hello cheap!

Be still my beating heart.

On Sunday, I made the discovery of all discoveries…wine on tap. Which will be a custom inclusion in my next mini-manse…most likely in my closet, where I can lay on a leopard couch and drink my ‘what to wear’ decision making problems away.

To be installed in my next mini manse.

Pinot grigio on tap? Yes please.

After my gleeful wine discovery, I tried to master the art of steak making. My first effort (minus a grill) turned out rather well. I don’t know that I would serve it to company but I was proud of my attempt, as Rachel Ray I am not.

Be impressed. Be very impressed.

Be impressed. Be very impressed.

Soaking in the tub with the Sexiest Man Alive wasn’t a rough way to end the weekend.

Sexiest man to be debated but I enjoyed our bath together nonetheless.

Sexiest man can be debated but I enjoyed our bath together nonetheless.

Ted and I will leave you with our new mantra, gifted to us from the always sparkly L. Dawg whom we love like CeeLo Green loves the night life.

Don't we know it!

Don’t we know it!

Sparkle on my friends.