HFGBC honors Classy Jill

Our very own, Classy Jill, celebrated a very special birthday last month.  What better way to celebrate 40 years than to party on the beautiful island of Exuma in the Bahamas with our best friends!!  We started off our trip flying first class, duh we are classy, with Mr. Matthew McConaughey and his new bride, Camila.  He was so cool, he dressed way better than us and even signed my People magazine that they were on the cover of.  Oh wait, I'm totally lying about that last part because he was wearing sweat pants and he denied the flight attendant the autograph when she asked.  RUDE.   But, whatever, we proceeded to continue drinking and enjoy ourselves with the best flight attendant ever.  Thank you American for doing at least one thing right.  Our classy bunch goes straight for duty-free in Miami (as I now have the "Going to Miami" song stuck in my head all over again).  We all needed to stock up on perfume, yo.  Not really, but we did all and I mean all 14 (2 didn't come until Sunday) buy two bottles of liquor to take on the plane.  Classy!  That flight attendant sure wanted to come party with us!  And now we're finally in Exuma ready to party, hang on the beach, continue to get our drink on and celebrate Jill's birthday & surprises!

Day 1: Perfect weather, fun times at the beach, Nay Nay's punch is a hit, Eli attempts to swim to another island & the Cobb's arrive!

not quite...

talk about an entrance!

Surprise #1: Salli ordered custom Tervis Tumblers with photos and had everyone's name printed on them for Jill's birthday.  They are super cute & classy!

Surprise #2: All the girls got Jill Chanel sunglasses for her birthday!!

Day 2: It's Jill's BIRTHDAY!!
First boat day with a minor hiccup but there's always going to be some kind of boat inconvenience with our crowd!  Worked out for us as we got a pimp-er boat.

Surprise #3 (final surprise...all good things must come to an end): A video slideshow for Jill with photos AND rapping clips from all her favorites peeps!  Tears?!?  I brought tears to not only her eyes but Nathan's, too.  Damn, I am good!  That warms my heart. In all seriousness, seeing that made me cry again and I say again because I don't even know how many times I got teary eyed watching the video as I put it together.  I'm so glad they were both touched by it!

Day 3: Second boat day - rain. all. day. Slurracaine day 1, thank you, tropical storm Debby.  We stay inside and drink all day. 

Maybe go for a kayak in a light drizzle.

 Have a dance party and reenact scenes from Dirty Dancing...

Day 4: The Slurracaine died for the day, so we took our chances and went back out on the boats.  Choppy waters, bit of a breeze but we know how to bring a party to an island!

We ended the night with Fancy night.  Every trip to Exuma has Fancy night.  Don't all classy people have a "fancy night"?

Day 5: Slurracaine came back with a vengeance.  Debby was pissed off at someone!  Six of our friends flew home in the midst of that madness while we drank and played spades in our house with no power screaming at anyone that went near the fridge!  Finally, wearing our swimsuits all day paid off because the sun came out!  We made it to the beach!

Jill - we all know how hard you worked at planning this trip.  We thank you and Nathan for the time and effort you spent researching, planning, etc.  We love you and hope it was the best birthday ever!!

*I think next time we go on a trip we should up the bacon assumption.  We can surely find more ways to incorporate bacon into dishes.  Especially with all the pinning these days.

Love you

Top five things I LOVE about my girl, Laura

So, first off, I don't think Laura even reads this blog, so maybe someone email her the link.  I would do that myself, but as you can all guess, I don't really know how to email links.

Here goes:

1)  She will drive all the way from Ft. Worth to hang out with the whole bunch of Bs that we are, and I've never heard her complain.  Not even once.  Not even when she was doing the drive in a Jeep.

2)  She NEVER underestimates the power of a Chick-fil-A nugget tray. 

3)  She and her man, Soup, let us experience what it's like to live the high life of the Soup and Sauce King of the Southwest and his lady, by taking us to a fancy private dining room experience at Del's every year at Christmas.  Serious royal treatment!  I feel like I'm with the mayor of Ft. Worth every time.

4)  At her wedding, she had her DJ play a special song for each bridesmaid/groomsman to run into the reception.  Like at the beginning of an NBA basketball game!  I'm pretty sure she picked, "Hillbilly Rock" for my Dad.  Single tear.  PS - I probably would've gone with "Hello, Country Bumpkin," but it was her wedding after all.

5)  She is BY FAR the nicest one of us.  BY FAR.  She listens to us moan and complain and smiles the sweetest smile every time.  But she don't judge.  She ain't like that.

One love, sweet Laura.

Top five things I LOVE about my girl, Heather

Sorry so slow on this, ladies, but I do have a day job.  And by day job I mean a commitment to catching up on all the episodes of Dance Moms I've been missing since I just discovered the show.  It's been on like two years, so have a heart.

Now, on to my girl, HB:

1)  She's a super high-powered attorney.  I like to surround myself with fancy folk, and lawyers are WAY fancy.  PS - she's wicked smart.

2)  She gets drunker than me.  This a difficult task and it requires a TON of commitment.  HB has NEVER let me down in her unfailing commitment to wine, beer, and booze.  I really respect that.

3)  She has zero problems with the fact that I refer to her husband as "my best gal pal."  Loves.

4)  She's super duper thoughtful and gives gifts that are way too generous.  Did I just say way too generous?  That was stupid, sorry.

5)   She's still mad at me because I told her husband (6 years ago) that he's a "great singer," so he consequently sings all the time.  Hating on your husband is cool, and HB is THE COOLEST.

Love you, friend!

Top 5 things I LOVE about my girl, Mishy

I am noticing a distinct lack of comments on this engaging, new, top 5 series. RUDE.

1) She will, in all seriousness, do the "sexy dance" that Bird and I created to secure her a marriage proposal. You're welcome, cuz that sh*t worked.

2) She is the BEST, most laid-back travelling buddy ever. She goes with the flow, which is extremely rare in a group full of hardcore Bs like we got going up in here. I am including myself in that tally. I likes my way. Cuz it's right. Duh.

3) She co-founded this RAD club. It has been a far greater success than our ill-fated scrapbook club.

4) She will go full-on J-Lo and lay on the bow (that's rich boat talk for hood) of a boat drinking cocktails while it is dead in the middle of the Caribbean.

5) She will get wasted, puke, pass out, then rally and make molten cakes for everyone! BEST RALLY EVER.

Much love, gurl.

Top 5 things I LOVE about my girl, Brooke

As I assume you are all waiting with baited breath for your very own top 5, I will try to churn these babies out in rapid succession.

1) All dudes LOVE Brooke. And by dudes I mean our queer-a$$ husbands.

Case in point, fade in, Diggs's pad:

Big Softee: (please read this using a sort of Snufaluffagus voice, but kinda nervous-y cuz he's talking to Brooke), "hey Brooke, you have camo shorts and I have camo shorts. We match."

Really, dude?

Fade in part deux, chez Classy:

My dad: "hey guys look - Brooke is drunk and she's eating toast!"
All other guys present: "Awwwwww. What will she think of next?"

NOT the reaction I get when I eat toast. Must be a technique issue.


2) She will not give any good chocolate to bulimics, because they will "just waste it."


3) She was the first HFGBC gurl to blow out a knee interpretive dancing. Note I said first.


4) When I invited her out on our old POS boat, The Chips Ahoy, she thought it was a fancy yacht-style P-Diddy boat and offered to bring tiny sandwiches made on King's Hawaiian Bread. Presh. Like anything my Dad would purchase would be nice enough to host tiny sandwiches.


5) She's the only other HFGBC gurl that has to go to Weight Watchers with me. Then she heckles dummies at the meetings.

Fade in, WW meeting full of fatties:

Dumb Fat Lady: "I don't know how I gained a pound. All I eat is salads."
Brooke, whispering: "Yeah right, lady. Cabana Bowls ain't salads."

Love you B to the B (S).

Top 5 things I LOVE about my gurl, Rach

So, this is obviously part 1 of a 7 part series, so ladies get ready for your own personal shout out. Why, you ask? Because I love the sh*t out of all of you and I don't care who knows it. Sappy love is the new black, duh. Oh and I don't think you are reading my awesome blog posts anymore and I know you will if they are about you and not my kid. Way to be selfish, ladies.

So, here goes:

1) Upon being served vodka out of a giant spigot, she asks, "Gabe, what kind of vodka is this?" Like they put top shelf vodka in a SPIGOT? Presh.

2) Upon sitting down at a blackjack table with 5 other awesome HFGBC hotties and dudes, she asks the dealer to "name which Friends characters we are!" Then, she corrects the dealer for incorrectly labeling me "Phoebe."

3) She always carries a gorgeous, rich, designer purse, but when she sees a friend with Glad Press-n-Seal, she declares it "RICH"!!!

4) She gets all her maternity clothes at Forever 21 or the Teen Mom section of Motherhood.

5) She treats her daughter's birthday parties as if they were the f'ing Catalina Wine Mixer.

Love you, gurl.

Gonna make you sweat 'til you bleed. Is that dope enough? Indeed.

Bet y'all thought this blog was Dubai (remember: Dubai is Iphone for Dunzo - looks who's rich with an Iphone 3G - holla)! Oh hell to the no this blog is not Dubai. To prove it, I have a new post for yo a$$. And it's a list. And it's about running. Wait for it...

Here goes - my new top ten list of songs to listen to while I'm running. Yes, I'm "running" again. You may recall that I am about to be 40 (aka full-on Golden Girl old) so I figured I should starve myself and exercise until June so I don't scare all the people lucky enough to spend some time with me in a bathing suit. You're welcome, as always.

As you know, running sucks. Unless you're being chased. And it actually still sucks then, too, because who likes being chased? Especially if you just snatched a purse. Although I'm guessing if I ever snatch a purse, I'm going to do it really sneaky-like and then just walk off, acting real smooth. Watch out, Rach, cuz you know your purses are the ones I'm coming for first. Consider yourself warned.

Now my list, in backwards order, obvi, to build the suspense:

10) I Don't Think Hank Done It This Way by: Waylon
Explanation: this is good to get you started. It's kinda slow, like my running. I'm already in a bad mood obviously, because I am exercising, so I like to think that maybe Hank was as miserable as me. Wearing those rhinestone suits has to be as bad as the workout gear I got at Sam's Club, right?

9) I'm On a Boat by: Andy Samberg
Explanation: this song makes me happy. Because there's cussing. And it reminds me of being on a boat. In the Caribbean. Where God wants me to be. Instead of running on the streets of East Dallas at a ridiculously early hour. PS - I hate my life.

8) Needle and the Spoon by: Skynyrd
Explanation: this song rocks. And it makes me think about maybe taking up heroin as a weight loss alternative. But then I heard it makes you have a sugar Jones like nobody's business. And get zits. I'm f'ing 40 so I clearly cannot deal with zits.

7) Bulls on Parade by: Rage
Explanation: if you don't already have this song on your workout playlist, stop reading now and go get it. There's a lot of screaming and rage in this song (duh, they're raging against the machine) which goes perfectly with the rage I feel at having to exercise. Rally 'round the family, with a pocket full of shells. Who knows what that means? But I like it a LOT.

6) Love and Affection by: Nelson
Explanation: Nelson f'ing rules. Dubai.

5) Break Something by: Limp Bizkit
Explanation: 'member Fred Durst? 'member how he was always so mad cuz he was bald and Christina Aguilera claimed to be Durty but she still wouldn't do it with him due to his baldness? I can really relate to that anger. Because of my fatness. Plus, I really consider saying "first one to complain, leaves with a blood stain," at every business meeting I ever go to.

4) Cigarettes Will Kill You by: Ben Lee
Explanation: if you haven't heard this, give it whirl. This dude is from Australia, and I am generally not a fan of people from Australia, although I did love Muriel's Wedding, but that was really more because of Abba. But I digress. This dude used to date Claire Danes, so he's obviously pretty cool because Claire Danes pretend-dated Jared Leto on My So-Called Life and he rules. But really I like this song because it has cigarettes in the title. I like to picture myself smoking cigarettes while I'm running. You know, picturing your happy place and all makes you run faster, right?

3) Dancing Queen by: ABBA
Explanation: ABBA is by far the best band of all-time, and Dancing Queen is by far their best song. I once went on a family vacation where all we brought was a case of vodka, 2 cartons of smokes, and the ABBA Gold CD. True Story. Best vacation every, BTW. Oh and needless to say we brought Yahtzee. Yahtzee is to games as ABBA is to music. That's an analogy. Like on the SAT. Sorry I just made you learn.

2) Crazy in Love by: Mr. and Mrs. Jay-Z
Explanation: when this song plays while I run I pretend all my flab jiggling is actually an on purpose shimmy like Beyonce. My flabs got my lookin' so crazy right now.

1) 99 Problems by: Jay-Z
Explanation: As if it's needed! I got 99 problems and running is #1. Seriously though, I like to think about all my problems while I am running and listening to this. I'm from the 'hood, stupid, what kinda facts are those? Seriously, I can run until I get to like my 3rd problem (old, flabby, possibly mentally ill) then I have to take a breather. Yes, I suck.

Hope this inspiring post inspires all of you to "hit the streets" as my Dad likes to say. Bastard.

Introducing the Jill-jito (Classy Lady RIP)

So I would never completely forsake the classy lady because: a) it is delish, b) it has Coke Z, and c) it has booze (I am not providing a link to this recipe - you know how I feel about laziness). But, I feel that each summer needs a signature drink, so VOILA!!! Along comes the Jill-jito!!! Enjoy my friends.

Ingredients:

Jill's special strawberry basil syrup - okay this isn't really my special syrup. I got the recipe from the WSJ (Remember my Dad? Those who love spreadsheets love the Journal). It was a recipe for homemade popsicles that SD demanded when he saw the picture (don't freak out, it wasn't one of those kooky pencil sketches they usually have, this was the Weekend Journal, aka the WSJ edition that is slightly more fun than colorectal surgery, unlike the weekday edition).

Here's what's in the syrup (Jill-modified)

1 lb strawberries
Juice of 1/2 a lime
2/3 cup sugar
10 basil leaves

Puree that up in the blender, and you've got some delish syrup.

Now, you pour about 2 ounces Cruzan dark rum in a Tervis tumbler (the official tumbler of the HFGBC if you didn't know)

Then, add a generous glunk of the syrup (yes, I measure in glunks, so no one can recreate my awesome recipes, right Rach?)

Then add ice

Then top it off with some handy club soda/Perrier/seltzer water

Enjoy, and you're welcome, Summer 2011.

Cause I told you once, now I told you twice, we gonna light it up like it's DYNAMITE!

Although there is absolutely no topping when my 3-year-old son told me, "mama, you smell like cocktails," I have a few additional, AWESOME, SD quotes to share. Please keep your applause to a minimum.


1) "Moms and dads should not commit an oak tree."

Context: SD and I listen to his kid bible stories CD every day as we go to/from school because I am an awesome mom and am super duper sacrificial and gave up my severe Kidd Kraddick addiction to help my son get his Jesus on. So, the CD has the ten commandments on it, and this is what SD heard. Get it? If not, you probably hate Jesus. PS - enjoy Hell, Jesus-hater.


2)"Mom, how am I supposed to light this club up without any music on?"

Context: as if this is needed...SD's current favorite song is "Dynamite" by Taio Cruz (you may recall the above-mentioned Kidd Kraddick addiction I have subjected my son to for 4 years now). Well, he's in bed the other night and calls for me. I go into his room and his is sitting up in bed with a flashing red disco light (not sure where this came from) and he asks me to turn some music on in his room. When I say no, it's too late, go to sleep, he responds as above. Genius. My kid is an f'ing genius. BTW, he refers to that song as "San Diego" as in "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, San Diego, San Diego!" Did I mention that he's a genius??

They Try to Make Me Go to Rehab, and I Said YES YES YES (please).

Okay, so anyone who knows me at all (and all 6 readers of this sweet blog do), knows that I have two main aspirations in life: 1) to go to rehab and 2) to be in a mental institution. These are actually interchangeable, as I think if I got to do one, I wouldn't need to do the other, but I reserve the right to change that sentiment afterwards, depending on the sheer awesomeness of the experience. Here's my brillz logic: rehab/time in a mental institution is like an f'ing paid vacation. Seriously, and law dawgs out there correct me if I'm wrong, but I think they can't even fire you for going to either because you are "sick" and need "help." Now, I'm not mocking the people who are actually crazy (you may recall my mother) or alcoholics/drug addicts (lucky!), I'm just thinking I could use a day or two (or month) off right about now. Now, do not put me in some kind of tough love joint either - I am not going to rehab to learn how to scrub toilets, thank you very much, and I certainly don't cotton to hiking or other "relaxing" activities like yoga either (please). My rehab needs to be something like this: lay around all day, smoking cigarettes and watching my stories, kind of like the mental institution that Winona Ryder went to in Girl, Interrupted. F'ing lucky a$$ girl, interrupted if you ask me. I wouldn't even mind being surrounded by crazies who taunted me for my beauty or sanity or other nonsense. You may recall I went to a full-on ghetto high school, so a few anorexic crazy girls don't scare me none, and guns aren't allowed in rehab, so problem solved. I would even be more than happy to go to "group" and talk about my feelings. Seriously, have I had a feeling that I DIDN'T share? Clearly not an issue. And remember that rehab movie with Sandra Bullock where they did a hilarious play to celebrate one chick getting released from rehab? Doing plays for no reason is obviously awesome and not something you can do when you are at work all day. Now I know you naysayers are out there naysaying something like, "there is no perfect rehab that you speak of, and aren't you actually describing a spa?" To that I retort, "duh, you can't take sick days to go to a spa, hello?" I might even become a confidante to one Miss Lindsay Lohan and I would advise her to live the rest of her life on the full-on opposite tip, as in do the OPPOSITE of whatever you think you should do, because your ideas obviously suck. She'd probably win an Oscar.

You're welcome, Lindsay Lohan. See you at Promises!!

Delish Coconut Chicken Tenders

I know this sounds crazy, but these were so awesome!!!!

1 package boneless chicken, but into tenders
1 can coconut milk
2 cups Panko bread crumbs
2 Tbs flour
salt and pepper

Marinate chicken in coconut milk for an hour in a ziploc back in the refridgerator. Preheat oven to 400. Mix panko, flour, salt and pepper. Coat your chicken in the dry mixture and place on a greased cookie sheet. I added another sprinkle of salt.

Bake 20 minutes or until cooked through.

So easy and so yummy!!!

Egg Cassarole Recipe

This is from my cousin in Tennessee. This was so delicious, you know I had 3 helpings!!!

Words With Friends: avoid booze and drugs if you plan on winning that sh*t.

Okay so as most everyone who knows me knows, I have an old-ass sh*tty free phone that don't have no internets on it. Unfortch, this is actually an "upgrade" phone that my Dad let me spend a whole 20 dollars on the last time AT&T said I could upgrade. Seriously though, it was a huge improvement from what Diggs so lovingly LOVES to refer to as my "Zak Morris-style brick phone." Note I spelled Zach with just a "k" - keepin' it classy is my middle name. So back to the phone, one day recently, I woke up and all the bitches I know have rich Iphones (this means all you bitches on this blog with me). Apparently, on the Iphone, or maybe also on rich Blackberries or even Androids for all I know, you can play a Facebook game called, "Words With Friends." This is just like Scrabble, but you use your radical-ass Iphone with its magic keys and whatnot, then your friend shoots a word back at you. So, being a hardcore brillz wordsmith like I am, I assumed I would rock that sh*t up and down the coast when I borrowed a friend's Iphone and started playing. Of course, it took a full hour of Iphone tutoring to even begin to handle that thing, but afterwards I was ready to play. This game is BULLSH*T. Seriously. It's all about "strategy" and not, apparently, about making awesome (read: dirty/hilarious) words. And, to add insult to injury (I have no idea what that actually means, but have always wanted to say it), it automatically looks up every word and won't let you play a word that doesn't exist (just try "sugarsexy" and you'll know I'm right). The crazy thing about the look-up function is that it says that words like "aa" are actual words. Really? On f'ing Mars? Needless to say, I possibly got the lowest ever score in the history of the game, and I assume all the little-ass kids I see with rich phones are playing it, so that's extra bad.

Moral of the story: I hate you people with your rich Iphones and game strategies, and you can take your Words With Friends and shove it.

Now, I'll busy myself by scrolling through the contacts on my phone so it looks like I have internets.

Silver lining: my Dad says I might be able to get a phone with internets if I switch to pay-as-you-go. Seriously. Boost Mobile in the HOUSE! I saw some pretty sweet phones at 7-11, so I am pumped!

Chicken pot pie

HFGBC is slacking lately at posting.  We've been busy having fun!  Some pics will be posted soon.  In the meantime, someone asked me awhile back for my chicken pot pie recipe.  You can find it here.

I don't think you're ready for this jelly...

So, when I had already avoided work long enough with facebook and blogstalking, I decided it was time to write up another hilarious blog post, but I couldn't decide what to write about. Then, SHAZAAM! It hit me! What do I love moaning and groaning about more than my Dad's love of spreadsheets and hunger? The awesome hideousness that is my body. And so, since I'm into lists all Letterman-style, my top 3 list of sh*t I hate about my body was born.


1) Ass Bangs – if you are Asian, feel free to skip ahead to the next item on the list, as your people were born with glorious thick hair on your heads, and no hair anywhere else. PS – I hate you damn hairless Asians! I, however, come from some white trash sharecropper stock straight outta Mississippi, and being of this questionable ethnic pedigree, I am hairy like a straight-up monkey. Now, twenty years ago, this item would not have existed, as ladies were allowed to just let nature run its own show downstairs and dudes just had to deal. But nowadays, since we have to take care of our ladybusiness all Swank magazine-style (read: nearly/completely bare down there) ass bangs were born. Not sure what an ass bang is? Fade in: you just shaved/waxed your business but accidentally maybe on purpose due to it being a harrowing task didn’t put your big ole bootie up to look at it in a mirror to determine that yes indeedy there is hair back there. Guess what? You’ve got ass bangs. Could explain why that super cute dude you did it with all carefree and Carrie Bradshaw-style didn't call the next day, or ever. This could be a bonafide PSA for those of you who have remained blissfully unaware of all that goes on back there, but I assure you if you haven’t taken care of that business, you got yourself some ass bangs. You’re welcome.

2) Stache/lady beard – self-explanatory. And for those of you who are not Asian but are sitting there thinking innocently, “I don’t have a stache,” think again. After doing God only knows how many people’s makeup over the years (you may recall my God-given skillz), I can testify that almost EVERYONE has some amount of stache that needs to be taken care of with waxing, laser, electrolysis, etc. If you still don’t believe me, look closer. And closer still. Boom! Told ya you had a stache!

3) Cankles – as I have expressed before, I come by these babies honest. My crazy mom has cankles. My beloved sociopathic grandmother (RIP) had cankles. And I’m pretty sure my share-croppin’ great grandmother had her some sweet share-croppin’ cankles. All you can do is try to minimize the appearance of these using techniques akin to those I use in my special ass camo. See my previous post if you don’t remember. I would provide a link, but that would just encourage you to be lazy. Other options for subterfuge include, but are not limited to: giant wedge heels (so high that maybe if you are running across the street drunk off jello shots pushing a stroller you may fall down and break your toe in such a hideous fashion that the memory of said toe “haunts my dreams,” according to one former child model who shall remain nameless); wide leg pants, so wide in fact that you could be accused of wearing palazzo pants; and ridiculously bright, dark, or glittery toenail polish (the theory here is that if the passerby is mesmerized by your toenails, he’ll hardly have time to look at your cankles); and last but certainly not least; long-ass prairie skirts that make me look like a Pentecostal or possibly a Mennonite (but a Pentecostal/Mennonite with small, delicate (read: completely hidden) ankles).

Popozao!