Archive for June, 2012

Post #66 – Baloney Porn…or is it BOLOGNA porn?

Posted in Family, grandmothers, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 28, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

My Grandmother, as mentioned previously, is illogically bizarre and particular about food. Yeah, feel free to check out Post #18 – called the Oatmeal Incident, as a reference for her peculiar and often hilarious antics regarding food.

Or…if you’re interested in the story about how my brother stole Nana’s life savings, check out Post #1 from March 2011 – As My Mother Lay Dying through…somewhere around Post #23…from June 2011.

Otherwise, back to Nana’s meals. I absolutely DREAD discussing the menu for lunch every day because it usually goes like this:

“What would you like for lunch today, Nana?”

“I don’t know. What can I have?”

“Whatever you want. We’ve got macaroni and cheese, and I could make a meatloaf sandwich from the leftover-”

“No,” she moans, while looking at me as though I’d just tossed dog POO in her face, pretty much like this:

Yes, SWEAR to that big Salami heaven in the SKY, that’s how she looks at me…:)

“I don’t want any of that.”

“Or I could make chicken noodle soup and a a hot dog, or I could thaw out that homemade potato soup,” I say, earnestly, hoping she’ll want SOMETHING easy, but I can tell by the look on her face, that’s NOT gonna happen. “Or, let’s see, we have chicken pot pies and chicken fingers in the freezer or that fish stick dinner you like. I could also heat up one of those, and we’ve got leftover mashed potatoes to go with the chicken.”

And by that, I mean, the HOMEMADE chicken fingers and HOMEMADE mashed potatoes, which, btw, totally rocked. 

She shakes her head. “No, none of that sounds good.”

“What do you want then?”

“Well, what do we have?” she asks innocently as if I hadn’t already mentioned a dozen different entrees already!

“We have bean soup as well.”

“I’m tired of bean soup.”

This is where I SIGH, and begin suggesting her favorite fast foods. Today, I asked, “How about I order a personal pan pizza? You haven’t had pizza in awhile.”

PLEASE LET THE TORTURE END! Please let me call someone else to make your FUCKING lunch! And I could SPIT on Pizza Hut from my back porch, so if they’re really busy, I could drive over and pick it up in THREE minutes – even walk over in less than TEN.

She shakes her head. “No, I’d really like that soup from Olive Garden.”

THEN, WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT initially!!? “You mean the Chicken Gnocchi, the soup with the dumplings?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Of COURSE IT DOES. It’s the farthest away from the house. It takes 20-30 minutes to drive there and back, but AT LEAST I don’t have to spend an hour in the kitchen making French Onion soup or something else that would trash my smashingly sanitary kitchen, which took me 45 minutes to clean up after breakfast…

That said, on weekends, my husband is kind enough to relieve me of the mind-fucking business enacting the 20 Question Quiz regarding LUNCH. And GET THIS…last weekend he inquires about the midday cuisine, and she looks at him as if she’s completely baffled and says, “Do you like bologna?” a.k.a. baloney…

“Yeah, I like bologna. Why?” Charlie asks, rather puzzled.

“I do too, just wondered. I haven’t eaten it in awhile.”

“Wow, you should’ve mentioned that before. Would you like a bologna sandwich for lunch, maybe with some mustard?”

“Oh, my God, not mustard!” she says wearing a seriously DISGUSTED expression. “Can’t you put Miracle whip on it?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Three or four days later, I decided to skip her 20-Question Quiz, and go for the jugular instead, “Would you like me to go get some Kentucky Fried Chicken for you today, or maybe, Taco Bell?”

She shakes her head, and I want to cry. Thinking PLEASE don’t make me go to OLIVE GARDEN! It’s 100 degrees outside, and I’m low on gas…

“Do we have any more bologna?” she asked, a sparkly TWINKLE in her eye…and I could hear her mind clicking…I NEED A FIX…do we have more of that wonderfully slimy pork substance, chock full of chemicals, pig snout and rectal tissue from many beasts? Please, TELL ME WE DO!

Actually, we did. We had half a package of un-brand, imitation Kroger pig-like meat known as bologna/baloney, which contains:

Pork shoulder, mechanically Separated Chicken, Mechanically Separated Turkey, Pork, Water, Corn Syrup, Modified Food Starch, Dextrose, Salt, Contains 2% Or Less Of Beef, Extract Of Paprika, Flavorings, Sodium Lactate, Potassium Lactate, Sodium Diacetate, Sodium Phosphate, Sodium Nitrite, Vitamin C (Ascorbic Acid), and safflower oil. May also contain residual amounts of sugar acetone and corn syrup solids…and MORE salt than a 95-year-old woman should have in a MONTH…

With a big smile and feeling TEN POUNDS lighter that it only took 11 seconds to ratify the lunch treaty, I JOGGED to the kitchen before she changed her mind.

When I was a kid, I loved bologna, but I haven’t eaten it in at least 7 or 8 years since going on the South Beach Diet and/or it’s maintenance plan. So, it’s been a REALLY long time since I’ve attempted to slay the DEMON known as bologna. However, I couldn’t help but laugh when I noticed what sort of creation was born in my frying pan…

Baloney/BOLOGNA porn!!

Now I ask you, does that NOT look like a deformed and slightly charred NIPPLE?

Need I say more. And thank GOD, she did not notice the large bubble that formed in the center of the baloney (the nipple I speak of)…and she smacked her lips and clapped her hands when I put the BALONEY PORN sandwich on her tray!

But even in her ecstasy to consume the BALONEY PORN SANDWICH, we still had to watch Rachel Ray mutilate a perfectly good roast on the goddamned FOOD CHANNEL! Does Rachel not EVER take a vacation??


EIGHT days until vacation PEOPLE! 8, yes, EIGHT days until I languish/punch the time clock by the pool from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. (later on Sunday… :))…and gamble by night…

TA for now from the headquarters of the Baloney PORN STUDIOS…

All the best,

TenaciousBITCH and her porno CREW! 🙂


© Kennedy Smith 2012

Any and ALL the material/stories/true stories, photos, musings, ideas, emails and journal entries written by Kennedy Smith/TenaciousBitch are the intellectual property of Kennedy Smith and Lynne Logan. As such, any and all information, true stories, etc., presented on are copyrighted by Kennedy Smith and Lynne Logan.

© Kennedy Smith and Lynne Logan 2012


Post #65 – Sasha and her babies

Posted in memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on June 23, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

The one and only SASHA…

My beautiful cat, Sasha, had her babies yesterday! And be FOREWARNED: do not read this post if you’re eating or have a weak stomach! 🙂 She started out in my closet, which I feared she might do because it’s one of her favorite hiding places.

Sasha and her babies.

When I realized her mewing wasn’t just in order to elicit my attention and that she was in labor, I pushed some of my clothes out of the way, and the noise of the hangers spooked her. Whereupon, she hobbled out of the closet and into mine and Charlie’s bedroom with her first born hanging half out of her (feet first, poor thing)!

“Oh, my God, Sasha!” I squealed in a panic, “Where are you going?”

I followed her, and luckily, she only ambled maybe a foot away and laid back down on the hardwood floor of our bedroom. I ran and got an old, ratty towel from the linen closet, and put on a pair of latex gloves (the disposable kind) I use for cleaning. As soon as the first one was born, I was able to gently move her and the newborn onto the towel.

Sasha is only 5 or 6 months old, so I thought she might need help, which she did. And, thankfully, she didn’t object to my moving or touching her babies.

Unfortunately, the first one died, minutes after it was born. The second one was born about an hour later. I had to cut the embryonic sacks off the 2nd and 3rd babies because she was too busy tending to herself, and they would most likely have suffocated. However, she had the fourth one when I was downstairs making Nana’s lunch, and I guess she “took care of” the fourth one herself because it was whining for milk, and she was cleaning it up when I came back upstairs.

Sasha and all four of them a couple hours after they were born.

She was in labor for about four, maybe five hours. She had FOUR babies who lived, which is kind of difficult to see in the photo above. So, far they all seem to be doing just fine! 🙂

All four of them alone. One is gray striped, and the others are various shades of gray and white.

And if you’d asked me two days ago about helping a cat birth her babies, I would’ve told you that I’d be really grossed out by cutting a gooey membrane off a newborn kitten. But it didn’t bother me at all! I guess the Mommy instinct kicked into overdrive.

Last night after dinner, I kind of scooped up the cats in the towel (Sasha included), put them in a box and carried them to our exercise room, so we wouldn’t be tripping on baby cats on our way to the master loo! Sasha seemed a little unnerved by the move, but she didn’t really fuss about it much.  Oh, and, btw, you can’t really tell in this photo, but Sasha is a Maine Coon. Unfortunately, her baby daddy is not, so the babies aren’t a high ticket item, but they are ADORABLE…Time to go check on the newborns!

Over and out from the kitty midwife and family… 🙂


Post #64 – In honor of Mr. and Mrs. Smith…

Posted in Family, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 13, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

Mr. and Mrs. Smith in their front yard, circa 1992 after she had back surgery. This photo depicts her first walk outside…

The Mr. and Mrs. Smith in question are my parents, and, yes, that’s their real names :). They were very special people*, who tied the knot 55 years ago this month. They met sometime in 1954 while they were both attending Marshall University. Dad was a member of Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity. Mom was an Alpha Xi, and she had been a cheerleader in high school in Man, West Virginia, and she was a cheerleader at Marshall as well.

But Dad’s only claim to fame in high school in Euclid, a suburb of Cleveland, was a short stint on the wrestling team. He weighed 117 pounds when he graduated, so he wrestled in what they called “the spider weight”…I don’t know if he was a champion wrestler, or just another guy on the team. Dad was not much for bragging…unless he was talking about Mom :).

The photo below was taken at an Alpha Xi dance in ’56 or ’57. Those who know me well have probably already seen this pic on my Facebook page.

An unlikely pair since Mom was a typical Southern belle who was very outgoing and chatty, and Dad was rather serious and often quiet, but somehow they made it work. And apparently, Mom slain quite a few hearts when she accepted Dad’s fraternity pin her second year of college and pledged to date no one else.

One particular ex-beau good-naturedly joked that Dad stole Mom from him at every single reunion of Dad’s fraternity (though in truth, he and Mom only had 2 dates). Mom organized all the PiKA reunions from the late 80s until 2006.

I think all dad’s fraternity brothers were a little in love with Mom as evidenced by the fact they named her Pi Kappa Alpha Dream Girl for life during the reunion of 2005 (i.e. the photo below was taken that night). Looking back, I can see the cancer in her eyes in this picture when even though in her heart, she didn’t accept it until the diagnosis was thrust upon her by an oncologist 23 days before she died in May of 2007.

Mom at the Pi Kappa Alpha Reunion 2005.

While it may appear that my parents lived a storybook life, it wasn’t. There were a lot of arguments, a lot of grumbling, and I don’t think Mom was happy that Dad insisted she stay home with Ben, Danny and me, especially after we started school because Mom loved teaching. She taught science and biology at my junior high for two years before Ben was born and never worked after that.

Dad made enough money as an engineer at a large oil company to pay all the bills, so that was that. In the end, when she found out she was terminal, she told me she’d had a good life, that she had no regrets. Either way, Mom was always there when we needed her, that’s for sure, whether I got sick at school, or I was embroiled in a spat with a girlfriend, she made herself available.

She was also heavily involved in the PTA, church charities, and such. When I was eight, she accepted the position as the chairman of the Ways and Means Committee for the PTA, which was a huge job. I was very proud of her during one meeting when she had to speak in front of the entire PTA, consisting of about 100 parents, teachers, etc. She summarized some sort of report, as I recall.

She and I had always had severe stage fright when it came to large groups, but she didn’t stutter or stumble throughout her entire 10-minute presentation. Though she came across so confident and unfazed by this daunting task, she told me later her knees were knocking so loud, she thought for certain the audience could hear it…but we were none the wiser.

Together for 49 years when she passed away, Mom and Dad remained steadfast through bitterness and light, members of an elite group who never once uttered the word divorce no matter how ugly things got at times. I remember a lot of screaming when Ben was in high school, when he skipped school or came home drunk.

Then, after Ben graduated from high school, Dad got very upset when Ben moved in with his girlfriend, whom we all adored. Dad was a devout Catholic, and cohabitation was definitely not condoned. However, through the years, living in sin became a sin Dad could live with as he didn’t say much about my co-habitation with Joe or Charlie before we wed. But back in ’79, Dad’s feelings on the matter were quite different…

When Danny was in high school, he fell in love with drugs, which led to more family turmoil and his quitting high school after failing the 10th grade. Mom and Dad rallied against Danny quitting until the bitter end, but he was 16. There was nothing they could do. That’s one decision, I’m sure that Danny wishes he could take back. He got his G.E.D., but that isn’t quite the same.

I was no angel either, illustrated by several earlier posts:  #46, My Bad Influence and Posts 30 and 31- An Ode To Barboursville Parts 1 and 2 that details my unfortunate, but thankfully brief incarceration at the Barboursville “jail” above the Volunteer Fire Department when I was 17… 🙂

In the late 80s, after Ben moved to Florida, I to New York and Danny to South Carolina, Mom and Dad enjoyed being empty nesters and snow birds, going South every winter and living in WV in the spring and summer. They also loved going out of town for Marshall football games and such as well.

But for Mom and Dad, the words, “Til Death Do Us Part”…were just that, words. When we lost Mom in 2007, there was no other for Dad, and he lived as though Mom were just on sabbatical. He sat in his favorite chair in the den at their house, drinking beer as depicted in the image below…

Dad on Thanksgiving day 2008.

He ate the same food, rode his easy chair through every football season. Whether Marshall or the Browns won or lost didn’t matter, he simply lived for the game.

He listened to Nana gripe and grind all day long about this, that, and everything in between and never said a word.

Just as before, he and Nana wintered in the South and spent their summers in West Virginia. But in 2009, cancer took Dad too, and I have no doubt that he’s still sitting in a recliner somewhere, drinking beer and counting the days until the first Marshall game, like always. I’m certain that Mom is at his side, wishing Chad Pennington still played for MU (her favorite player)…because as I said, til death do us part did not/does not apply to THIS Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Over and out from Memory Lane~

TenaciousB/Kennedy Smith/Chairman of the Mr. and Mrs. Smith Fan Club

* See Post #  43 – The Kindest Man Who Ever Lived for an awesome story about Dad’s childhood, and Mom is mentioned in various posts throughout my blog.

** Danny is my younger brother who stole Nana’s life savings and then some, which is the subject of many posts, starting with Post #1 – As My Mother Lay Dying…

Post #63 – My life or some facsimile thereof…

Posted in beer, Family, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 1, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

South Beach, Florida, 2008, yes IN the water wearing my cover-up…why… dunno, maybe, ask the hot barkeep who over-served those margaritas…:)

Like most Fridays of late, I could lie down and sleep until 2014 – or maybe only until noon tomorrow, depends on what’s on TV :)…My unbridled exhaustion, however, is not derived from the usual burden of working 27 hours/day, cooking, doing laundry, paying bills, scraping gum off the leg of my coffee table, taking care of Nana while trying to drink like a 12-year-old. Yes, I’m joking. I didn’t like Merlot when I was in junior high. I only drank beer back then, usually my Dad’s Stroh’s (BLEH)… 🙂

No, my need for respite began to peak after cleaning my house from daylight until dawn for three days because my husband’s entire family was supposed to descend upon us for a cookout on Memorial Day. Sadly, only my in-laws were in attendance. That, of course, doesn’t diminish or increase the level of my fatigue. It’s just merely an annoying side note. However, in their defense, Charlie’s Grandmother is not ill through any fault of her own, and when she’s sick, Aunt Darla doesn’t like to leave her alone, so their alleged snubbing of our holiday event is forgivable. And kudos to Darla for being so attentive to her mother. And why weren’t the other members of his clan hanging out with us and eating burgers and ribs that day? Dunno…ask the cat. She seems to know everything these days, including the new secret hiding place my car keys have taken a shine to…

Anywho…so, at this point, I do not have the energy to sit here and spin an 1100-word yarn as per usual, so I give you a few glimpses of my life, both past and present, via photographic image below. ENJOY and have a good weekend!

Ben and I circa 1967. This photo occupied my mother’s dresser until the day she died…

Tim and a newborn Max at my parents’ house, 1992.

Danny and I in Florida in 1973 in the salad days of our youth before CRACK usurped his life…

My husband and I in the hot tub at our old house on the west side of Columbus. Yes, that’s snow in the background. And YES, this was taken in ’99 when I was a double-wide kind of girl…not the quasi-middle, not-so-hefty weight I maintain now….

THIS is what I had to do to keep a FIVE-POUND cat from scampering behind the TV and eating all the cords to the TV, the VCR, the cable box, the receiver, the surround sound, etc.

My good friend, Kathy Griffin, at one of her gigs in Cleveland, back in 2007, maybe? She wouldn’t pose with me, the bitch, cuz she said I’d had too much to drink, and my new hair color was ??? not so good. Actually, I have a photo of the two of us from that night, but it’s NOT for public consumption. I look like I was just released from a prison camp…but she looks AWESOME, the little trollop…and you never know…she MIGHT just cut a bitch…

The beautiful cat, Sasha, in question… 🙂

My favorite photo of Nana Maude, taken in 1963 when she was a mere child of 46.

My husband, the rock star, circa 2010 in a club downtown.

Max’s girlfriend, Amanda, lighting the candles on Max’s birthday cake, which was red velvet with strawberry icing (HIS request…yeah, I Know, right?)…

I kilt another closet, and I think the photo speaks for itself, don’t you? 🙂
Max, ignoring me, April 2011.

One of many photos taken at mine and Joe’s wedding in ’86. Yes, I blocked out his face. No, he’s a very handsome man, but I haven’t spoken to him since ’97, when he fled the country for somewhere in Europe. We have a mutual loathing of each other at best.  So, I thought it best NOT to contact him at this juncture for permission to display his Marlboro-man looking mug on my blog… :).

Max and I on his 18th b’day. He was opening one of my gifts…