Tag Archives: sequins

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The Man. The Myth. The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have a dad, have had one or a father figure in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dada celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYEEEEEEEEEEE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky” by the oh-so-sweet 10-year-olds) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to my car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during P.E. but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

Celebrating the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND

Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

… even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

Passed down to generations for upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

 … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

…except when you let your three-year-old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

 …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

 …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

…is like leading one big, fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

…even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

Join the twins in a sing-a-long to Coo Coo…

(of course we do not have normal monikers such as Grandpa in my classy family)

We love you.

CBXB

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Weekend Winks – Loud and Proud

First world problem – a non-working cell phone that carries over to a week.

How the fuck do landlines work again?

My iPhone 6 took a literal dump. Complete with a cracked screen (I seriously replaced that motherfucker four times – FOUR TIMES and each and every time cracking occurred, it had a protective screen on it) and total black out of the phone BUT if I kept it charged, sometimes Siri would work. Bonus, I was gifted an iWatch from Sister CBXB for my birthday and I could use that to talk and text like a fucking secret service agent.

Who doesn’t scream into their wrist?

Wanna know how I felt as soon as I had a brand new phone in my hands?

Hello again 2018.

While I was awaiting my new phone, I was able to hire, beg my gal pal Rasta, into being my own personal paparazzi. My cousin, Tballs and his wife with whom he’s been with so long, she feels like a cousin, Hussy #5 visited Nashville and naturally, I needed documentation.

A trashtacular family sandwich.

Hussies for life.

Dad’s Day required margaritas and four heaping bowls of salsa.

Feel good Father’s Day.

My twins of The Pussy Posse turned six last week. They were overjoyed. Obviously.

Sleepy at six.

Another member of my posse is making the rounds at the vet (and I’m still paying off Ted who’s been over the Rainbow Bridge for almost a year), Precious my chug.

Fainting couch needed.

Pres is 12 years old but truly acts like a puppy in the fact that she canNOT contain her excitement over anything. At all. So, in the recent weeks, she’s been so excited seeing her leash, she passes out for a few seconds. The first time at the vet, we were supposed to keep an eye on her. Then, she passed out upon my return home from work last week (I mean, I do know how to make an entrance into a room).

Vet visit two resulted in a referral to a pet cardiologist AND an order to keep this chug as calm as possible. I sound like a fucking ass clown coming home from work, trying to talk in a monotone voice, when typically my screech could shatter windows when talking to my fur kids.

Netflix and chillin’.

I’m not even supposed to take her out to pee (she’s puppy pad trained) because the sight of her sparkle leash literally makes her pass out. So what’s a fabulous fur mom supposed to do for a little stimulation? Put her in a Louis Vuitton and take her on errand runs.

Most annoying duo on the west side of Nashville.

Preshy even joined First Mate and yours truly for an early Friday happy hour.

While speaking of illnesses and fur kids, Mama CBXB  has two pussies that I may or may not have had a hand in getting her. One is a fucking beast who gives all felines a bad name – hissing and batting at legs and making sounds that don’t seem like they belong on this planet. The other, is the sweetest little baby you could imagine. Yet, they get along.

A beast and a baby.

When I tried picking the beast up over the weekend, I got a little souvenir for my heroic efforts of love.

Finally! I’m sprouting cat hair.

Speaking of hair, look who is the proud owner of some colored locks…

Sorry. Not sorry she’s my mini me.

My nephew, Prince B, is taking after his folks for a love of baking. This weekend it was pizza.

Chef BoyArdee.

The ultimate taste tester.

After a week full of shit show news, it was good to get out and about at Nashville Pride.

Roaming the festival with Rasta.

LGBTQ allies.

One of my fave parts of festivals is gawking at people and boy, this one did not disappoint. The best t-shirt ever goes out to this dude, who found it on Etsy.

Trump is not his safe word.

It was also Tan Boy’s birthday and we had a big time making fun of my blondeness.

Taking Pride a tad too literally.

Pride weekend was a much-needed positive reminder after all of the hate spew coming from people of all walks of life these days.

Love is love.

Regardless of your political affiliation, every person bleeds red, compassion is compassion and treating people like actual human beings is NOT hard.

Image by Justin Teodoro.

Care.

Care your fucking brains out with compassion. It matters. If you need any guidance on how to do this, give me a ring. I no longer have to shout into my wrist.

CBXB

CBXB!

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How to Pass the Sparkle On

I’ve never met anything gaudy that I didn’t immediately love and it’s of utmost importance (to me) that my love of sparkle make its way to the next generation.

Recital

Wishing this little giddy up still fit to parade around in daily, minus the heinous hair cut.

You can imagine my delight when I became the proud aunt of twins – one being a little girl. I knew she was going to fill my high heels in no time flat when I saw the camera hogging abilities with which she was born.

Scene stealer

A natural scene stealer.

While my amorous relationship with glitter and glitz began with a turquoise sequins top, I thought for certain this raccoon-like trait would be passed along to my niece.

love

Please put this on me and never take it off. Ever.

Turns out my Princess B wasn’t a natural-born lover of all things ostentatious.

It's my party...

An underwhelmed, sparkly Super Girl.

Seems that the only time I showed disdain in an outfit is when it lacked sparkle.

First Mate

Seriously, this First Mate shit is the best we could do?

Thinking Princess B may need to be eased into the gaudiness of Auntie CBXB, I hoped a bright pink, star adorned puffer vest might do the trick.

On and on and on

Flamboyancy fail.

To me, the only thing worse than wearing a simple jeans and t-shirt combo is the thought of anything neutral finding its way into my wardrobe. Even as a kid, the horror of me being in anything close to the color khaki threw me into fits of tears…

Nope.

Dad might as well have thrown the brown sack over my head.

So you can imagine my utter delight when I purchased the most non-subtle dress for a toddler in the world (you bet your ass I’d have a matching one if it came in my size) and Princess B showed great interest.

Be still my beating heart...

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Seeing the look on my niece’s face as she took her first few steps into the mini prom dress, I felt the taste of victory creeping over my fuchsia stained lips.

Yep....

Sparkle lover being born…

But in .00187 seconds affection turned to disgust and the gaudy sky turned gray.

Dress fail.

An all out bawl baby breakdown.

Sniffled

Followed by deep sighs and sniffles.

But suddenly the attitude was adjusted the moment Princess B stopped to smell the glittery roses and evaluated just how this ornate outfit made her feel.

But wait...

But wait…feeling fancy doesn’t suck.

And then…

TA-DAH!

Success!

Dressed for extravagant success!

Turns out Princess B will be taking over the glaringly bright, gaudy baton I will be handing her one day after all.

hi

Hopefully as a grown woman, she’ll be sneaking into famous people’s closets to play dress up, making Auntie CBXB proud.

I’m so glad she finally saw the light.

One can hope.

My shimmering heart bursts with pride.

I mean, someone needs to carry on my sparkly shenanigans, ya dig?

Sparkle On.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

 

 

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Hasta La Vista, Baby!

Look out Florida! I have my sequins and sunscreen packed, heading to Key West and Miami for the next week, where I’ll be basking at the beach while cabana boys deliver endless Skinny Pirates. Teddy is vacationing at his grandparents house where he’ll play with his two feline uncles and be spoiled rotten, coming back home with a catalogue of demands longer than Santa’s naughty list.

We had to get one last post in before our departure and wish everyone a fabulous weekend.  Naturally, Teddy wanted it to be all about him, as he admired himself in his handsome holiday tie (like the world revolves around him…oh wait…mine does – Jesus this cat knows me well) while scrolling through pictures.

Ted loving Ted

Ted loving Ted

So we leave you with happy Spring thoughts – if you hear of any breaking news in Florida, I had nothing to do with it.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

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Ted’s Cheatin’ Heart

Is killing me…

So, my cat Teddy doesn’t only have eyes for his Mama. What the F? I feed, water, feed, coddle, feed, snuggle, feed, give him paw-manis AND feed him! What thanks do I get in return?

What's up Pussycat?

What’s up Pussycat?

My neighbor’s cat McCain (who is a male, therefore making Teddy gay, which I already knew – and secretly love!) stopped Ted dead in his tracks.

Just one look...that's all it took.

Just one look…that’s all it took.

But Teddy is a Mama’s Boy! He always comes running when I call (or when I have a shiny, sequins shirt on because I’m his walking disco ball.  He can chase the reflection of my sparkles up the walls – oh to be a cat) and ignores everyone else. Never me.  I assume this is how parents of human children feel when their kids start dating?  What is a mom to do?!

Is this love...that's I'm feeling?

Is this love…that’s I’m feeling?

This went on long enough for Ted to ignore me while I walked by with a tuna fish (his favorite snack) sandwich, turned the sink on (when he usually comes running for our version of cocktails), spun around my living room in my sparkly shirt like an idiot trying to catch his attention and literally act like he didn’t feel me poking my finger into his shoulder.

I’ve heard of puppy love but kitty cat love? Is that even a thing?

This staring and pawing at the window and meowing and prancing back and forth must have lasted eight whole minutes (which to me felt like eight years).

And then it happened. Teddy got dissed.

Great. Now I have to deal with cat heartache.

Great. Now I have to deal with cat heartache.

Suddenly McCain slinked away like Teddy didn’t ever mean anything to him. The nerve! My ball of fur patiently waited and waited and WAITED for this new love to come back and grace him with his presence.  But McCain never reappeared.

Slowly, Ted came crawling back onto my lap, wanting major Mama consoling. Maybe kitty cat love isn’t so bad – I mean it will never work out in the end and therefore, I will always be his hero by picking up the shattered pieces of his broken heart.

But of course I did get to rub his wet little nose in his misery by singing, “Your cheatin’ heart will make you weep…”  And then explained that cats can be so bitchy.

Ah, the perils of being a cat mom.

CBXB