The Birthday of Your Bestie

The birth of Sister CBXB was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I didn’t know it at the time but I needed a yin to my yang, a Meredith to my Christina, a Nicky to my Paris, a Sasha to my Malia, a Serena to my Venus, a Solange to my Beyoncé.

A brand, new dynamic duo.

However, we all know I love a glaring light on myself (also known as a spotlight), so don’t think I wasn’t pissed when bébé Sister CBXB was showered with gifts for just appearing out of what seemed from nowhere (I know Mama CBXB will beg to differ, delivering an 11 pound baby). I remember our neighbors Winnie and Clyde came to visit and while everyone coo’d and ooh’d over the bundle of joy, I got a bag of underwear. I think that may have been the first time I thought “what the fuck?” to myself.

I was always quick to remind folks that I was still around while they were admiring new life.

Gpa Morris ALWAYS had her binky (it’s on his right finger). And she always whined for it.
Gpa Morris DON’T FORGET ABOUT MEEE!

I was quickly schooled that two is better than one. I had someone to boss around, throw the blame on and found celebrating, well, everything was better with my forever plus one.

So many things to cheers to over the years.
Easter celebrations from Wonder Girls to Wonder Women.
Snow fort celebrating compliments of Dada CBXB and Uncle LewAss with the Morris Boys.
She’s always a fab sport when I wanna do a celebratory marathon day at the Iowa State Fair.
Never not fun at an Iowa Hawkeye tailgate.

We’ve always known how to say buh byeeeeee to the prior year, letting our hair down, throwing our hands up with a side of snacks we never let go to waste. You haven’t really lived if you’ve never dipped a pizza roll in Rotel cheese dip. Follow us for more classy tips.

Who needs more than two to ring in a new year?

Then, she met my future BIL (bro-in-law) and we had fun ushering him into trashtacular new year’s fun.

Inaugural NYE with BIL.
Who doesn’t have dance-offs on NYE?

BIL was always a good sport, even when we put on booth concerts at local bars.

Never a better duo screaming LIVIN’ ON A PRAYER!

Our audience was always so enthralled they could hardly keep their eyes open,

Before popping the question, I’m sure BIL had to consider what he was getting along with Sister CBXB.

HI. It’s me. I will be your forever third wheel.
I’m so easy to deal with.
OBVI.

BIL put a ring on it anyhow and a round of celebrating properly ensued.

Jazz hands run in the family.

Bachelorette shenanigans were nothing but drunken fun. So much so, we had our folks in tow.

Whose dad doesn’t bachelorette party it up?
She gets her classiness from me.
Once again, obvi.

The big day came and it was so apparent how happy and excited she was to start this next chapter of life.

As newlyweds, she rang the bell with her new hubs, sealing the deal at the Little Brown Church. A photo caught my thoughts…thank fuck it’s not me, it’s you!

The forever and always single, cray cray cat lady. Not mad about it.

Although it was her wedding day, I somehow still managed to bring out her sisterly love in a way.

The look of sibling love.
A look that runs deep.

This life that’s sometimes a party just kept getting greater. Sister CBXB and BIL welcomed twins and the festivities and hoopla got bigger and better.

Seeing her kill it as a mom is no surprise but fuck – no one lied when they say time flies.

How in the actual fuck are these two already nine?!

I’m forever indebted to her for taking any partnering up and kid pressures off of me. I get to be the outrageous aunt, thankfully.

What?
Kids are so easy.

Sister CBXB has put up with me her entire life. Often reacting with the “holy fuck, did she just say/do that?” face in her hands of hilarious embarrassment to be related to yours truly.

She never had any choice in the matter.

No option but to be my forced side kick.

Sisters are a special crew. We lucked out having Mama CBXB and Aunt Crazy Pants as an example of that extraordinary bond. The millions of times we laughed until our stomachs hurt and tears ran down the legs of the older duo, are some of the best times I have tucked away in my memory bank.

My sis has often carried me through life in fab times and the horribly bad. Maybe I’m a reason her back hurts? That can’t be, rather, I taught her how to lift with her legs, right? RIGHT?!

I’m always helping her put her Michelle Obama arms to great use.

Even though it looks like we could possibly be inbred in the photo below, I know she’s always got my back and me hers, no matter the woe. But for real, why does it look like we’re posing for a prom pic? We were on the lookout for Dada CBXB to arrive at his surprise party.

Back to Back
He made it.

Sister CBXB has never met a cake that didn’t meet the inside of her belly.

So today, eat all of the sugary confections with a side of that fancy bubbly!

Thanks for always being the straw holding this camel’s back.

I can’t wait until this cunt Rona is gone and I can come maul you and force you to carry me around for fun. You’re the best of the best, crème de la crème, I hope this birthday celebration grants you with everything you deserve. I’m forever thrilled that I get to be your sister. Thanks for being my bestie.

Cheers, Bitch!

Love ya, Mean it.

Say Yes to the Dumpster Dress

There is zero shame in my game.

While holy matrimony has never been high on my list of hopeful accomplishments (although I can train the fuck out of a man. Ex-boyfriends that were once couch potatoes, allergic to family encounters, bitched about having to go to out-of-town weddings, were closeted alcoholics, verbally abusive – all matters leading to break ups are now treating ladies right. Now I get to sit back and watch my masterpieces practice my long, hard efforts in their current love lives. Bitter much…who moi? You’re welcome girls).

Whipping male asses into shape for fellow females.

Often classifying myself as trashtacular, it will come as no surprise that when I was driving by one of the many dumpsters near my mini manse, my interest was beyond piqued when I spied a gigantic white box big enough to store body parts beside the filthy green trash receptacle.

I did what any classy person would do…I slammed on the brakes, leapt out of my rust bucket, just knowing that the headless corpse I was about to discover would land me on my fave TV show, Forensic Files without having to be deceased.

Instead, as I slowly opened the box, an even bigger surprise awaited my eyeballs.

A fucking wedding gown. Preserved to perfection.

Was this a sign? An omen? Bad juju (I mean Jesus, is there any luck in finding a wedding dress dumpster diving? I mean, aside from it being free and all). I suddenly became a woman more excited about a wedding dress than finding a stray pussy that needs a home (JUST KIDDING. I would first home the cat and then set my sights on my pretend wedding).

This dress had been abandoned once before. Who was I to do it again? The chiffon pouf found a home in the back of my rust bucket, along with a Christmas tree and anything else I don’t have room for in the mini manse. It resided there until one evening at a gathering of gals for Supper Club. Among the convo, I mentioned my dumpster diving prowess skills and with zero urging, ran out to my car and got the box.

The shenanigans began.

Upon opening the box, we not only discovered there was the dress but also the veil AND THE SHOES – which revealed the previous owner’s practicality, as they were ballet flats. Ew.

My new favorite bad hair day ‘do.

Suddenly, I became a flushed bride trying to stuff myself into polyester chiffon (I mean, I didn’t go on a wedding dress diet because I didn’t know I would be so fortunate to be all dressed up…with no altar to go).

I haven’t tried to stuff myself into anything chiffon since, well, ever. I mean, naturally my prom dresses were sequins and any bridesmaid dress that I will “totally wear again” (and never, ever have) were more on the silk/satin side of the material world.

With a touch of fake tulips off my gal pal’s mantel, I was a (literally) hot bride – one lit cigarette butt from going up in flames.

While half of the group was trying to get me in and out of the dress, the other ladies were playing private detectives. We had a name from the alteration receipt, which was from a dress shop in Hoover, AL. WHAT WAS THE STORY BEHIND THIS DRESS?

I mean, if it was cheating, wouldn’t one burn the dress? A nasty divorce, even, maybe donate the dress? But to leave it unscathed at the dumpster really proved that this former bride had a sliver of regard for the giddy-up that once promised her forever, which may now be my forever. But whatever.

With the small paper trail and armed with her maiden name, our investigators were able to peruse social media, locate her, see second wedding photos (with a far more updated gown) and we all now know she lives three buildings down from me. Maybe we should all quit our jobs and become private detectives?

Lost but found.

OR maybe I will just quit my day job, go down to Broadway Street in Nashville in my new threads and pretend I got left at the altar for sympathy and free Skinny Pirates.

OR better yet, I can be the runaway bride and charge tourists (who pay for any and everything) $5 for a picture with this damsel in distress.

OR do I plan a wedding to myself for myself and register for all the things like Louis Vuitton bags, Christian Louboutin heels, a Go Fund Me account for vet bills, and a collection for a new car (i.e. Range Rover)?

OR do I wear this on every second date I go on?

While I have yet to ever online date, this for sure will be a profile picture if I ever do. Accompanied with one single tag line:

Must love cats.

I betcha they’ll be lining up to say, “I don’t,” even if I’m not looking for anything but casual.

Regardless, I can’t stop wearing the fucking veil.

Don’t mind me. Just a crazy lady parading around in a stranger’s veil.

Here comes the bride…to the nearest dumpster near you.

CBXB

Weekend Winks – Wins and Worms

You know when you’re a lady who single-handedly runs a fucking funny farm full of animals inside of her own mini manse that inevitably, someone is going to get sick…and then they all get sick. Because when everyone eats, drinks and shits in the same places it’s germ swapping mania.

Trough of pussies.

Trough of pussies.

So we spent the better half of our weekend at the vet. Why you ask? Because everyone in the goddamned house had worms. FUCKING WORMS. All from our little chug who brought in fleas, which I thought I’d gotten rid of after a dip in the tub and a bomb of the mini manse but apparently, one of the felines got one in their belly and fleas turn in to worms.

IMG_7081

Dip Baby Dip.

You know what’s fun when you have four cats and a dog? Prepping to take stool samples for the vet to examine, Ted’s meds for refills and new pussy paperwork on the three February family additions (yes, I’m my veterinarian’s dream come true).

Just another day in my fabulous life.

Just another day in my fabulous life.

We loaded up (after a 43 minute mad dash for the baby, Elsa Pants, under beds, on the porch, in a kitchen cabinet – although I can’t blame her because she was getting to ride in a box) and were on our way. The two older cats got to stay back and receive topical treatment when I got home – which didn’t go over well with the three in my petmobile.

To the vet we go...

Never a dull moment.

When we finally got to the vet, I realized that my Louis Vuitton (my sixth baby), literally had shit in it because that’s where this blonde thought it was a good place to house the Ziplocs of feces when rounding the fur balls up.

Loaded Louis.

Loaded Louis.

Patient patients.

Patient patients.

Sweet Elsa Pants had no choice but to be patient in her box because she might as well be a greased pig running down a high school hallway during a Senior prank when out and about.

No choice. We have a runner.

We have a runner.

Ted and Elsa took their topical worm treatments like pros. Precious on the other hand, ate her way through 18 pill pockets and STILL didn’t get the pill down.

Do your dogs do this?

Do your dogs do this?

After five attempts with a pill popper, the vet techs (yes, plural) were successful but someone wasn’t thrilled.

Try Me.

The winning weekend news though was that Teddy gained a pound since February (which is fab, since he lost half his body weight last year due to illness).

Bad news is Precious also gained a pound since February.

The worst news is that yours truly has gained 15 pounds in the same time frame.

POUNDS

Trifecta of emotional eaters.

Better news is that my pharmacist still knows how bananas I am over my pussies since I get to renew pet prescriptions at Walgreens.

Still crazy.

Best news is that Elsa Pants forgave quickly.

Elsa

While I was very busy running around after fur balls and excavating worms, my Iowa twins were all gussied up at their first go ’round as wedding participants.

Ring runner and flower girl.

Flower girl and ring runner.

You know they were highly rewarded for their fabulous efforts..

IMG_2702

IMG_2703

Turns out, someone takes a little too much after Auntie CBXB in the party department.

Party

Sleeping beauty had one too many slices of cake.

Sunday was spent with Dada CBXB doing what we do best in celebration of Father’s Day.

Day drink!

Day drink!

Here’s hoping your week is off to a worm free, winning start.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – a Win, a Wedding and Wee Wee Training

Even brides love jazz hands.

Even brides love jazz hands.

After a long work week accompanied by dreary weather, snuggles on a stormy Friday night helped soothe our weary spirits.

three amigos

The chug, the pussy and the broad.

As much as Precious the chug and Ted the pussy try to refrain from showing their insane love for one another, I kept catching the feline bathing the dog.  Their faces say it all…

Make out.

Caught.

While my fur balls were rolling around the mini manse, my Iowa twins were rollicking around on their new play set.

Steps

Princess B making her fashionable grand entrance on the deck.

No fun.

Prince B unable to contain his excitement for all things fun.

NO FUN.

Think they like their new digs much?

Saturday started with very normal routines at the mini manse. Gearing up for college game day to watch my Iowa Hawkeyes take on the #19 ranked Wisconsin Badgers required some help from bloody marys as I was a tad bleary eyed for the 11am kick off.

Morning kick-off mania.

Morning moonshine and marys makes my world go round.

While Dada CBXB and I were prepping for football, the twins found themselves trying to create a new routine for their mornings….

Saturday morning routine.

Potty training time!

The wee wee updates proved to be more exciting than the Iowa game BUT our fellas were the first to score a touchdown and you know that meant moonshine!

#1

The one and only shot.

After last week’s Hawkeye 62 – 16 win (and nine – yes I said nine shots of Popcorn Sutton) I think the universe was giving our livers a much needed cleanse.  There was only one touchdown the entire game and regardless of how ugly it can get in a half, the Hawks pulled out the win with a score of 10-6.

So, naturally we did a victory shot to celebrate our team’s 5-0 record (and also to not starve our livers).

5 and 0 baby!

5 and 0 baby!

Busy living it up with shots, the twins found themselves still trying to score in their own way even after the football game.

Still at it....only changed media.

Shitters are not yet full.

The partying continued into Saturday evening as two fabulous friends got hitched.

Groom's dream come true.

The groom’s dream come true.

Lady and the Tramp.

The Lady and the blonde Tramp.

CBXB ran into an old fan!

CBXB ran into an old fan!

Sunday called for some errand running with my favorite co-pilot who has become quite famous as she accompanies me to get oil changes, pick up prescriptions and make deposits at the bank.

Sunday errands.

Who could forget this face?

Sunday snuggles found Clark and Cousin Eddie who are spending one more week with Dada CBXB while Teddy is almost back to his old self.

Clark and Cousin Eddie still stnugglin

The twins not hating the spoiling at Gpas.

Lovin’ found its way into the mini manse, as Ted openly gave Presh a Sunday evening lick down.

Fur ball kisses

Finally not giving a fuck who sees this display of affection.

Adulation was in the air this weekend as the twins found themselves spreading their own love to one another.

Kisisn'

Precious moments.

Here’s hoping you find yourself with some of your own lovin’ this week.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – I Do!

Wedding bells were ringing in Nashville this past weekend (and you can pick your jaw up off of the floor, it wasn’t my holy matrimony ceremony but a celebration I was lucky to take part in).

Wedding mania

Wedding mania!

In preparation for the big weekend shenanigans, Ted and I relaxed with our favorite wine Friday night.

Two winos

Feline wino.

After a bridal brunch on Saturday, the bridesmaids were treated to mani/pedis and this chick couldn’t have been more thrilled, as it’s been over 365 days since I had a pampering session in a salon.

Mani Pedi!

Wine + foot rubs + back massager chair = HEAVEN.

I ended up going with a traditional French mani but added a little sparkle (gotta spruce it up!) in the top coat.

A very classic French

Classic with a small twist.

As I was waiting for my nails to dry, I found out my niece in Iowa eats like her Auntie CBXB.

blah

Who needs a bottle when you can rub cereal all over your face?

While my nephew on the on the other hand, loves his face clean.

Mr. Angel Eyes

Mr. Angel Eyes

On Sunday, the bridesmaids donned our white, monogrammed (so Southern) button downs we received as gifts from the bride. Prancing around in my white shirt and Spanx, I felt like I was channeling Tom Cruise via his Risky Business days.

Risky Business

Any body have any tighty whities and a pair of tube socks I could borrow?

I also felt the need to steal a pink acoustic guitar that hung on the wall in our dressing room. It was way too cute not to touch.

Will this fit into my purse?

Will this fit into my purse?

After the happy couple said their “I dos,” friends gathered in the courtyard for cocktails and photos, where I tried to sneak into the background of every single snapshot.

Attempt 1

Didn’t you mean to ask me to be in the pic?

Score!

Oh, you two just wanted to be alone? Sorry!

During our girls pic, we were photo bombed by a master, who looks like he might be trying to take off in flight Superman style.

Best one yet

Does he have a cape on?

Upon my late return home last night, Teddy was less than impressed with the non-quality time I spent with him this weekend, so he decided to express his dismay vocally by singing (at the top of his tiny lungs) a meow song all night long. He apparently exhausted himself because this is how he looked when I left for work this morning.

One eyed willie

Pampered prince.

I’m the one that looks like I’ve been up all night singing on this sunny Monday.

Go figure.

CBXB

CBXB!