Archive for the fashion Category

Post # 145 – Good news…bad news…and you can’t be f’ing serious?

Posted in fashion, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 14, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

So, I’d forgotten how exhausting job hunting can be! And I cannot believe the fuck-ton of cyber paperwork that is required for a job paying $10 fucking dollars/hour. Yes, folks, I said $10 – a scant dollar and some change more than minimum wage.

It’s hard to get used to coming down from the $25/hour (sometimes $30) I get for freelance work anyway, so $10 is a bitter figure to accept, much less the insane volume of forms and the like.

And why would moi/proud owner of a college degree and 20+ years’ experience in the cesspool known as the workplace accept a job for such a paltry pittance? Well, boys and girls, I can answer that in 4 words –

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

It’s a PUBLISHING COMPANY!  While I’d be working in the call center doing customer service, it is my foot in the door at my MECCA, after all. I’ve wanted a job at a publishing company since grade school. And though I’ve done freelance work for 2 different publishers, ’tis not the same as being in-house, and everyone has to start somewhere.

First of all, this job is through Pinnacle Temps. Fine. No problem. I am a dyed in the wool veteran of the temp to perm contract gig… however, the first OMG – you’re shitting me moment was when the recruiter named Brenda informed me I had to make a fucking 35-second video to introduce myself to perspective employers! Ya know…hi, my name is, and I have a background in BLA, BLA, BLA, and you should hire me cuz I’m broke, and….

Seriously, put down the crack pipe, people! What the hell is this, SPEED DATING? If I’d known I was going to be videoed, I would’ve rethought my wardrobe choices. I was wearing a very bright cobalt blue cowl-necked sweater and matching blazer with black pants cuz I don’t care if it’s Queen Elizabeth, this chick ain’t wearing a dress on a 4 degree day (okay, maybe for HER, I would – but anywho).

And though my fashion entourage was fine for the temp agency, and though a fellow applicant complimented my Anne Klein bag that matched the shoes, sweater and jacket perfectly, t’was a horrible ensemble for video creation.

I probably looked like a talking head atop a gigantic undiscovered neon blue, 5′ 8″ PLANETOID-ish blob! Or the clients may not get past how enormous my boobs looked since the camera was no less than .05 inches from my person, and Brenda assured me t’was only my face and shoulders, but it seemed to be aimed at the middle of my ta-ta’s. . Despite the recruiter’s overt reassurances that the video was “fine”. It was great. I beg to differ!!

And if that weren’t bad enough, when taking my drug test, I not only peed all over my hand, but I soaked the damned cup, which dripped all over the beautiful ceramic tile in the bathroom (en route to the shelf behind the toilet).

The time I spent trying to clean up the spatters of urine on the floor and trying to wipe off the cup, probably seemed suspicious. I wouldn’t be surprised if Brenda thought I’d spilled some fake urine I’d smuggled in (or I was trying to heat it up with my lighter – since manufactured piss will not be a balmy 100 degrees or whatever) cuz only crack heads take that long to “go” in a plastic thingy!

Then, I was mortified when I realized the cup was still quasi saturated when I deposited my specimen on the shelf where I assumed she would retrieve my sparkling hot pee! SHIT AND DOUBLE SHIT (or pee as the case may be).

However, before I even washed my hands, she knocked on the door saying I could throw away my ala carte au natural TINKLE because, apparently, the container not only had a temperature sensitive strip embedded in it, but it does all the work of 3 lab techs instantly with a readout on the pee-covered paper on the outside of the tiny beaker indicating I was not gobbling down buckets full of heroin, etc.

HOW JOLLY AWESOME…tell me something I don’t know.

But as to the phenomenal volume of documentation required to work at this publishing company, I have to take an assessment that will take 45 minutes, which luckily, I can do at home.

I had to answer 32 inquiries about my customer service skills and/or job preferences (i.e. best work environment)…additionally, I also have to spend 30 minutes registering online for the temp agency itself answering the same damned questions I’d already supplied via the actual paper app at Pinnacle’s office, i.e.repeating my address, telephone numbers, etc., and God Knows What Else!

And that doesn’t even include the 11 pages of application material I had to complete, sign, date, scan and email back to another consulting firm for another job that is 20, yes, TWENTY miles from my house/ a 30-40 minute commute but does sound like an interesting job, the one mentioned in my last post/starting on 1/19/15.

Holy fuck balls. Maybe, I’ll just work at MCDONALD’s. Surely, their interviewing process is not so laborious…and if it is – no wonder those fast food gurus flipping our burgers are often so surly and/or screw up our orders! If they had to go through the rigorous documentation regime I had to deal with today on their salary of $8/hour, I’d be surly too.

All of which makes me tired just thinking about it. So TA for now, boys and girls!

~TB and her band of truth-spouting hippies


Post #119 Death to Anthem Insurance and Leo Pharma!

Posted in beer, Family, fashion, humor, memoir, mysteries, nonfiction, relationships, true crime, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 29, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

Unfortunately, I have psoriasis, which itches and burns so badly it is often painful to wear pants and sometimes even SHOES . For those who might be unfamiliar with this medical malady, psoriasis is an autoimmune disease that causes an overproduction of skin cells that, unfortunately looks like a cross between measles and leprosy, which can often lay dormant for years even decades, which my doctor cannot explain nor predict (sigh).

It’s not pleasant, nor is it pretty. Sometimes though it is often fueled by stress.  However, my stress level has been astronomically better since Nana moved into a nursing home (see  as to why my beloved Grandmother is such a pill).

The ONLY treatment that helps is a topical prescription called Taclonex, which I’ve been using for almost ten years. Originally, it cost around $500, which is a lot for a 100-gram tube of ointment. However, my co-pay was around $35, so I could live with that.

Oh, but that’s not the American way, is it? A mere 80% markup isn’t enough these days.  CEOs can’t really buy a new jet every year on that, can they? Leo Pharmaceuticals might not make the HOTTEST toy this Christmas that every 12-year-old clamors for, however, Leo borrowed the same marketing principles of supply and demand and used them to a very ugly end.

Once Leo Pharm realized that their ointment is the ONLY product that actually gets rid of psoriasis for people with chronic cases (though only short-lived for me), they acted just like your average street corner drug dealer peddling smack by jacking up the price like nobody’s business because they KNEW those of us who have this disease would be REALLY JONESING for more – because it’s so painful.

And additionally, for the first time in 15 years, I experienced being spot free, and I could WEAR SHORTS IN PUBLIC the entire summer here in Ohio when the temps often exceed 90 degrees (around 30 Celsius for my friends abroad). Until this product came along, I often had to go out to dinner on a HOT summer night (say around 80 degrees) wearing jeans because, otherwise, the hostess at the restaurant might notice the red splotches on my skin and ask if I have chicken pox?!! The vitamin D in the sun’s rays helps so tanning salons and sunbathing are an option but NOT a cure.

In the WINTER it gets much worse, so, of course, now I can’t afford the co-pay, which I’ll get to in a minute. And check this out…the recommended dosage from my doctor is 100 grams/week, but the price has escalated so high, my insurance (ANTHEM and most insurances) will only pay for 100 GRAMS/MONTH.

This is what’s wrong with our insurance and healthcare system in America. You have to destroy the capitalism within the system before anything improves. I hate to say that because I grew up in a houseful of Republicans, but it’s true. Capitalism does NOT belong in healthcare but the prickly part is how to remove it. But no one’s talking about or even suggesting such, and this is why OBAMAcare will fail. No, I’m not a communist or a fascist. But the free enterprise model of economics is awesome = except when it comes to healthcare. and I just want medical treatment that VISA isn’t going to SUE ME FOR if I can’t pay for it somewhere down the road, capiche?

In that, I’m not advocating Socialism for the entire country, but with capitalism running rampant within the healthcare system, you can’t try to impose a socialist idea like healthcare for everyone – damned the cost because the system is run by a huge network of greedy bastards who are still going to charge $40 for an aspirin in every hospital in America or $500 for a prescription that cost $80 to make (i.e. Talconex, but now it’s WAY more than that)…And all the folks in Washington seem to be doing is finger pointing. And oh, bloody hell that does a lot of good, does it not?

But politics aside, Leo Pharm and Anthem Insurance are the bad guys here. In that, when Anthem increased my co-pay to $598 for Taclonex in July, I called them. No, I’m not JOKING – FIVE HUNDRED, NINETY-8 DOLLARS! And this product doesn’t cure cancer! It doesn’t heal a hole in one’s heart!! It gets rid of a fucking RASH.

Anyway, Anthem gave me the spiderweb of runarounds. So, I charged the prescription to my credit card in July and August because I was miserable. Then, in September – it was still $598. I wasn’t going to buy any, in October, but my feet bled every time I wore shoes. I called them AGAIN about the $598 copay, and they said my doc needed to call in a Pre-Authorization before they would reduce the copay to $448! Are you fucking SERIOUS? But NO ONE had mentioned this before, and I thought -having danced on this fucking merry-go-round for years – that a Pre-Auth had already been done.

And the whole Pre-Authorization bullshit is a scam anyway if you’ve not had the pleasure of trolling through this corporate quagmire yet. HELLO, If my doctor didn’t think this drug was medically necessary, why the FUCK would she prescribe it? As if my doc just prescribed it just for kicks – just to scribble words on a page. Au contraire, in reality, a pre-authorization requirement is merely a tactic to DELAY the insurance company’s responsibility in paying for the prescription in the hope that the consumer/patient will not want to bother jumping through the WAY TOO MANY hoops required for people just trying to acquire the medical products/services they obviously need.

Anywho, my doctor’s office called Anthem. At which point, they said NO PRE-AUTHORIZATION IS NEEDED. Oh, my FUCKING GOD!!!  Can you say RED TAPE AT ITS FINEST?! I was mute with shock! The nurse kept talking about other scripts I’d tried that didn’t work, and all I could think of was that Athem and Leo were bending me over, and I was now powerless to do anything about it.

And that’s the thing that really gets me by the throat. All these fucking marketing gurus and CEO’S live to bleed as much fucking money they can from the average consumer without one single thought about the consequences to us, their bread and butter.  Everyone has to make a profit and pay their bills, but I do believe by now Leo Pharm has accrued its pot of gold by raising their price every goddamned year. 

So, the nurse called in another prescription. It didn’t do shit. So, I crunched the bullet and paid the fucking $448 for the Taclonex. I don’t know why it wasn’t $598. Maybe, an elf voo-dooed the computer, LOL. I didn’t ask. I just went WEE WEE WEE all the way home before the computer could change its mind! 🙂

However, the thing is – Leo Pharm is losing their patent, which means every Tom, Dickhead and Harry in the pharmaceutical world can produce this wonder drug at a fraction of the cost. So, Leo Pharm only has so much time to EXTORT additional money from their consumers before this particular cash cow is put out to pasture…

My pharmacist, God Bless him, was so sympathetic, that he searched high and low for an online coupon. He found one, but it was for the wrong prescription, and get this…they emailed me (Leo Pharm) actually WELCOMING ME to the Leo Family when this coupon card was activated! Isn’t that sweet…and check out my reply…

From: [mailto:]
Sent: Wednesday, October 23, 2013 3:38 PM
To: ‘’
Subject: RE: Letter from LEO Pharma Inc

Thanks, but that discount card was activated in error. My doctor didn’t prescribe Talclonex Topical Suspension. She prescribed the Taclonex Ointment, so I couldn’t use the discount card mentioned in the letter attached.

And furthermore, I really HATE, despise and LOATHE your company for charging more than $1500 for Taclonex, when a stronger version of the very same product ALSO manufactured by Leo Pharmaceuticals is less than $300 in Canada for 20% MORE of the damned ointment!

I hope your CEO and the majority stockholders at Leo are enjoying their new yachts or new Mercedes they’re able to afford with the outrageous $598 co-pay I’ve been forced to charge to my Visa the last couple of months. And I so love adding to my ever-mounting credit card debt for medical expenses – especially due to the fact that I’ve been unemployed for most of the last 2 years.

I’ve heard that Leo will be losing the original patent on Taclonex in about a year, and I will be drinking champagne and clicking up my heels that day—unless my psoriasis is so bad that I can’t wear shoes, much less click my heels.

So, fuck you and your goddamned USELESS discount!!!

A very unhappy customer.


otherwise known as KENNEDY SMITH

Columbus, Ohio



I feel really bad that I verbally accosted the woman who sent me this form email, but I was livid, and I’ve mentioned my horrendous temper (i.e.  ), which is no excuse, but it’s too late now. It didn’t bounce back, so it wasn’t an automated address.  Maybe, she laughed because she hates Leo too. Maybe, it really upset her, who knows.

I just happened to notice the actual retail price on the receipt from the pharmacy. Talk about STICKER shock. And that’s why the copay has been $598. In that, all drugs that cost over $500 have a 40% copay on my policy, so the Pre-Authorization nonsense are just empty words.  But the poor schmucks answering the phone could never say that even if THEY KNEW why the co-pay had gone nuclear. And I wasn’t fabricating that part about the Canadian product. Check this out (from the website of the Canadian drug store):

You searched for:


Marketed as Dovobet Ointment in United Kingdom and Canada

Dovobet Ointment 0.05%/0.005%


Manufactured by: Leo Pharma
This product is offered for sale by Day Lewis of United Kingdom

From $2.20 USD/gram

All of which is, so fucking typical, and, unfortunately, so fucking American…

Maybe, I should just move to Mexico. The lovely sun would definitely help my skin, and at least if the drug lords come after me down there, I’ll see ’em coming, and I can start shootin’ when I see the whites of their eyes…LOL…instead of yelling at them from cyberspace cuz Leo Pharm doesn’t list the address for their corporate office ANYWHERE online that I can find, probably for fear people like me will show up M-16s BLARING…:)

PEACE OUT from oh, my FUCKING GOD NOT AGAIN central…

Tenacious BITCH and her band of truth spouting hippies….


Post #71 – Can we REWIND, please?

Posted in fashion, memoir, nonfiction, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on August 7, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

Hello, all! By now, I assume you’ve gleaned from my posts that Nana Maude isn’t dripping with sweetness and/or logic, and she has NO FILTERS at all. In fact, she just prattles on all day long, her nonstop opinions tumbling into spoken words, willy nilly, without a thought as to HOW her comments might effect others. For those who are new to my Geriatric Hell, feel free to take a gander at:

for a PERFECT example of Nana’s lack of sensitivity…

At any rate, dear readers, today I shall relay a story, which took place in July of 2009. We were at an engagement party in West Virginia*, for my friend, Erin, whom I’ve known since I was five years old.

Erin’s parents, Bonita and George, were very good friends of my parents. They’d all met in college during the 50s. When I was a kid, we saw Bonita and George at every wedding, funeral, tailgate party, and oftentimes at Christmas or Thanksgiving as well, and Mother played Bridge with Bonita and several other ladies every Wednesday at the country club for more than a decade before Mom passed.

Sounds like the backstory for a boring movie on Lifetime, doesn’t it? 🙂

Now that you have a sketch of the social genealogy going on here, please add Nana Maude to the scene.

Nana Maude and Dad at Erin’s Engagement Party in July 2008

Erin’s engagement party was in Bonita and George’s backyard. It was around 92 degrees (Fahrenheit) that day, and the humidity was around 62%. Dad, of course, had brought a cooler of Budweiser, which was parked beside him the whole time.

Upon arrival, we stepped out onto the back deck where everyone had gathered. George was grilling hamburgers, and Bonita was chatting with a group of older women. A moment later, Erin introduced us to several members of her fiance’s family.

“This is Kyle, my soon-to-be brother-in-law,” Erin said smiling and gesturing to a tall, handsome man with a beard, “And Carl’s Uncle Harvey,” she said, nodding toward a short, stocky man, sporting a goatee.

“Very nice to meet you both,” I said, shaking both their hands.

“Kyle, Harvey,” Dad said, smiling while also exchanging a handshake with Erin’s future relatives.

Hands at her side, Nana said, “Hello,” …quietly, without much enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes at Dad, who smiled…both of us knowing what was next. As soon as Kyle and Harvey wandered away after 75 seconds or so of polite chit chat, Nana mumbled, “Oh, those AWFUL beards.”

I held my breath as I searched the crowd for the two gentlemen she was denigrating. LUCKILY, Kyle and Harvey were about 20 feet away looking at Carl’s motorcycle on the driveway…out of earshot, THANK GOD.

Never mind this is the 21st Century where beards are a rather TAME choice in grooming compared to say, MOHAWKS, or whether they’re neatly trimmed or not, Nana is kinda surly on the subject of male facial hair.

Preparing ourselves for what we knew would be a LONG afternoon, Dad and I both let out a deep sigh. To-wit, Dad and I exchange a knowing smile, which Nana intercepted.

“What?” Nana asked…as if we’d ACTUALLY make Nana privy to the source of our amusement.

As FATE would have it, before I could answer, Erin waltzed over to introduce her future mother-in-law whose name was Abbey. She was an overweight, but very attractive woman in a white sundress with a bright turquoise-colored brocade at the hem.

I’d met Abbey several times the last couple of years. And I’d spent a good 30 minutes chatting with her at one of Erin’s bridal showers.

After the customary Nice to Meet You’s and the Nice to see you again, I noticed that same hint of disapproval flickering in Nana’s eyes. But this time, I wasn’t sure why because Abbey was a lovely woman.

After a bit of small talk with Abbey and Erin, Nana, Dad and I secured a small table near the deck, which had a large umbrella (i.e. seen in the photo above). It provided enough shade to keep the melting of our skin to a minimum.

As soon as we settled in, Dad popped the top on his first can of beer. Nana Maude glared at him, but, thank GOD, a tirade did not ensue. Um, yeah…she doesn’t take kindly to drinking either since she was raised Pentecostal, but my Irish Catholic father wasn’t about to mend his ways because of her at the age of 74… 🙂

Then, Nana leaned in toward me for the ZINGER of the day, “What do you think of the groom’s mother, that Abbey woman?”

“I think she’s really nice,” I said, taking a sip of my Michelob Ultra (which had also been hiding in Dad’s cooler). I sat back, just waiting for the look or a snide remark from Nana about my cerveza.


But she didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I think she looks like a scrub woman, Abbey does,” Nana said in a snooty tone.

Panicked, I looked around, but I didn’t see a trace of Abbey. However, I saw her sister, Grace, sitting about 18 inches away at the next table. Her dark, ANGRY eyes targeting Nana.

Oh, shit…I looked away, my face flushing hot, red embarrassment. But there was nothing I could do, short of conjuring up a time machine that would snap us up and REWIND to about 90 seconds ago whereupon, I could beseech Nana to think before she speaks for ONCE in her life and tailor her comments accordingly…

I glanced at Dad. His soft green eyes were splayed open wide. He stared, slack-jawed at Nana, as if waiting for some sort of retraction that never came.

With obvious annoyance, I said, “Abbey’s sister is right there, Nana.” I darted my eyes in Grace’s direction, hoping Nana would take the hint.

Nana just shrugged.

I shook my head. About 20 minutes later, Grace went inside, hopefully, heading for the loo and not in search of a voodoo doll with Nana’s name on it.

“Why did you say that about Abbey?” I asked in a loud whisper.

Nana buttoned up her lip as if suddenly encountering the smell of dog poo and said, “Look at her dress and those shoes.”

I scanned the crowd again, this time locating Abbey. She was sitting in the Gazebo talking to a tall, well-dressed woman in her 50s.

“Really, Nana?” I sputtered with a groan of exasperation. Abbey was wearing flip flops. They were patent leather and had a cluster of mother of pearl and turquoise inlays on the straps that matched the hem of her dress perfectly. “Those are Justin Carly sandals! They’re like $85 or $90 if they’re not on sale.”

Another shrug from Nana. “They’re still thongs and inappropriate for your son’s engagement party.”

Oi vey…it was 98 degrees that day when you factor in the humidity, and given that George, the bride’s father, was also wearing flip flops (a nice pair of Nike flip flops to be exact), WHO CARES! I daresay since George has been a Prosecutor in a neighboring town for 30 years that his choice in footwear doesn’t reduce his stature to that of a JANITOR.

“Nana, Abbey is a CPA. She started her own company about 20 years ago. She’s very successful, and she has like 28 employees.”

Dad nodded. “They did a great job on my taxes last year after Arnie died.”

Arnie had been dad’s accountant since the 70s.

“She’s your accountant, and she didn’t recognize you?” Nana snapped as if this further cemented Abbey’s less than favorable position on Nana’s ridiculous caste meter.

“I didn’t meet her. A junior accountant handles my account, Joe Anderson.”

“Oh,” Nana said, still grimacing.

At that moment, I made an important NOTE TO SELF: search the Internet RE plans to build a Time Machine… ASAP.

Why not? If there are instructions to build a PORSCHE or make bombs on the Internet…WHY NOT a device that would enable me to travel back in time, gag my Grandmother before she utters yet another narrow-minded INSULT to an unassuming, VERY NICE person, whom she doesn’t like for some stupid, superficial reason?

Nana told me later that she also didn’t like it that Abbey’s hair was in a ponytail! Egad…

And that, MY FRIENDS, is why I rarely invite Nana to social functions unless I have sleeping pills to grind up and sneak into her iced tea once we arrive…since I’ve yet to find a plausible design for my time machine**…. 🙂


~Tenacious Bitch and COMPANY

* I was born/raised in Huntington, West Virginia, and after short stints in Los Angeles and NYC, I moved to Columbus, Ohio, in the early 90s.

** NO, I haven’t actually drugged my Grandmother, but if anyone has some spare Ambien they’d like to donate to the cause, let me know (wink, wink)…

# 11 – About Mary K’s CRACK…

Posted in Family, fashion, humor, nonfiction, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 20, 2011 by tenaciousbitch

SO, TODAY, I’m side-stepping the INTENSE discourse of my Stop and Smell the Crazy Life for a bit in order to SEGUE into a much needed installment of respite prose about a somewhat serious matter (but nowhere as somber as dealing with the Shitehead CRACKHEAD and crew), but not to worry… the fat lady wants to sing, so tomorrow, I’ll get back on the horse and continue with to sell the BMW dilemma, etc.

Below is a note to my cousin when I sent her some MK crack…. 🙂

HEY, Shauna/CHICKADEE, how ya doin’??

The enclosed MK skin care samples, including the INCREDIBLE hand softener, etc.,  are proof positive that ALL Mary K Ladies/Sales reps are drug LORDS. Why you ask? Well, PENELOPE, my MK lady, includes at least a DOZEN samples with every purchase in an auspicious attempt to increase her bottom line while, of course, tempting me to FALL OFF the MK wagon between paydays and/or when I’m CRACK-BUSTED broke.

However, she knows that skin care products are my gateway APPETIZER/stepping stone to more expensive ITEMS, so being the true VIXEN that she is, Penelope incorporates these luscious FREEBIES in with my paid-for cosmetic staples more often than her other samples of CHOCOLATE crack CREAM for every woman’s AESTHETICS’ addiction.

Therefore, please ENJOY the Mary K products or give them to Addie or someone else who WILL give them a good home….I cannot keep them b/c not only do they push me toward the Neverland of charge and spend when there’s no CASH in the KITTY, but if I used ALL of her potions/lotions/libations, etc., every day (which is likely if I KEPT them all), I would simply NEVER leave my bathroom. And that doesn’t do much for MY bottom line…

However, you’ll note that I removed the SUPER SOFT HAND CREAM. This, of course, is my most treasured FIX, so it is hiding on the dusty shelf in the loo in PLAIN SIGHT, mind you, lying in wait for the HORRENDOUS moment when I wake up with the DT’S b/c the BIG tube is EMPTY…at which point, I will need to apply the cream from the SAMPLE tube as a temporary lotion du jour/band-aid until I can obtain my next big SCORE in the 10 oz. tube…..

That said, I’m sure that you can utilize whatever hand cream is residing in your bathroom cabinet as a substitute for the beloved SATIN HANDS cream as the THIRD step in MK’s magic cycle of potions to rejuvenate the moisture in one’s hands.


PEACE OUT/Over and out from the land of MK ADDICTS/and/or….the Geriatric SWAMP! ☺

Your Partner in Crime/EZ-Bake Oven ho/Ice Cream Stealing BFF


P.S. Be careful what you say in reply to this INCREDIBLE gift b/c the MK spies are everywhere, and they will report us to FACEBOOK should anyone discover that I smuggled some MK goodies across enemy lines…. ☺

Kennedy Smith lives in Ohio, with her husband, 2 BOYS/men, 2 dogs, 2 garages, 2 cats, and a Partridge that REFUSES to live in its PEAR tree…Photo by Sparky BEFORE the gallon of hooch…. 🙂

© Tenacious Bitch 2013