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Post #155 – Revenge is best served via Taye Diggs or something like that…

Posted in blogging, comedy, dating, life, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, uncategoried, work with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 24, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

“Is your phone all set?” I asked when Jackson waltzed in the breakroom all giddy and smiling at 5:15 as promised earlier that day after he’d unveiled Gordon’s despicable motive (see my last post).

“Yes, ma’am, armed and ready,” he replied as I slipped my arm through his.

“Take one,” Jackson said laughing, encircling my waist with his other arm.

“One’s all we’ve got,” I said giggling as we sauntered into the hallway, gazing at each other as if en route to the nearest boudoir. Quite a performance since he’s gay, and I’m happily married with no intention of cheating. But Griffin and Gordon didn’t know that.

“After this, the whole office will think we’re having a thing,” I said grinning.

“Except, pardon me, but I’m pretending you’re Taye Diggs right now,” Jackson mumbled.

“Whatever works for you, baby,” I said with a giggle. “And when you’re done with him, I’ll take a turn,” I said jokingly,

Jackson busted out laughing but managed to stifle himself by buttoning his lip so as not to over-dramatize our scene.

Out on the sales floor, I could feel a dozen eyes on us. But I couldn’t tell how close we were to Griffin’s desk.

“Are they looking?” I asked.

“Yep, 2 blond idiots at 6:00,” Jackson murmured.  “And about 1/3 the sales force is gawking our way as well,” Jackson said as his dark eyes swept back to mine.

“Can’t wait for the video.”

“Oscar-worthy I’m sure,” I replied.

Jackson nodded with a giggle.

To make this moment all the sweeter, I had instructed Jackson to turn on the video camera on his phone before we embarked upon our scandalous stroll down the hallway. While only part of it is on camera (momentarily), the dialogue that ensued is hysterical.

I stole a sidelong glance at the 2 Douche Bags (Griffin and Gordon). They were slumped over their desks, their eyes plucked wide open with shock and, perhaps, exasperation by mine and Jackson’s display of manufactured enrapture.

For the coup d’etat, I batted my eyes at Jackson seconds before passing Griffin’s desk and in a sultry voice, I said, “See you round 7:00, then.”

“You bet,” Jackson said softly as I sashayed toward the elevator, shaking my ass as if it were on fire… 🙂

Seconds later, I heard Griffin say, “Hold up, Jackson, what’s goin’ on?”

I snuck a glance over my shoulder just as Griffin stood up and wedged himself between his desk and Gordon’s, so Jackson couldn’t pass by to his own cubicle cage, not 3 feet away.

A broad, devilish smile broke out on Jackson’s face, which I’m sure the miscreants believed was from basking in the glow of our lust.

“So, what’s the story with you and Mrs. Smith?” Gordon snapped.

Jackson leaned down and quietly replied, “Well, she won’t be Mrs. Smith much longer.”

“Yeah?” Griffin asked.

“She left her husband a month ago.”

“Really?” Griffin asked. “Then, why was she such a bitch when I tried to talk to her?”

“Maybe, because you’re an asshole,” Jackson quipped, still grinning.

Gordon laughed. Griffin scowled.

At which point, I was standing at the elevator sending Jackson a text.

When Jackson’s phone made that obnoxious DING notifying him of my communique, he took his phone out and held it up so that while reading my text, he was also simultaneously recording Griffin and Gordon on video. And Jackson was so kind as to enlighten me later that evening on the phone – with the details that weren’t captured on film.

Griffin’s angry eyes cut to Gordon – when suddenly, Jackson erupted into laughter. I hadn’t mentioned the particular verbiage for my text.

“She is a naughty girl,” Jackson said.

“Who, Mrs. Smith, aka Kennedy?” Griffin demanded sarcastically. “What’d she say?”

“Not much, just how much…uh, she can’t wait to cover me in peanut butter and lap me up and down,” Jackson said, laughing.

“Seriously? The uptight woman with dark hair who just left?” Griffin sputtered. “Said THAT to you?”

“The one and only,” Jackson answered, wearing a bemused grin elicited by the two confused dimwits, whose eyes were all aglow with ideas of sexual weirdness between me and the gay man.

“Bullshit,” Gordon barked.

Jackson smiled. “Whatever. See you two dickheads later,” he said pushing past Griffin.

A couple cords of laughter rippled in the background, but Griffin and Gordon were auspiciously silent.

“Prove it,” Griffin said contemptuously.

“You didn’t hear her say she was looking forward to seeing me?”

“So what?  You could be going to Bible study for all I know.”

“Oh, it’ll be biblical all right,” Jackson said with a chuckle.

Gordon laughed, but Griffin just glared at my imaginary beau.

“Okay. Let me see your phone,” Griffin insisted.

“No, that’s private. Besides, I’ve got work to do.” Jackson said, barging toward his desk.

Griffin moved closer to Jackson, growling in a low voice, “Oh, right, because there’s nothing on your phone but photos of you whackin’ off.”

Jackson and Gordon both cracked up at such a ridiculous statement. “Why the fuck would I have photos of THAT on my phone when I’ve got photos of…” Jackson began. “Never mind,” Jackson said, sitting down at his desk, while clicking over to the photo gallery on his phone. Meanwhile, the video camera was still recording every morsel of conversation.

“I don’t think so. You’re not getting off that easy,” Griffin said, grabbing Jackson’s arm.

Jackson spun around, beaming, “Well, apparently, I do, according to you…”

Gordon collapsed into nearly convulsive laughter.

“Shut up, Gordy, And yet, I’m the asshole,” Griffin said sourly…his first intelligent comment… 🙂

“Fine,” Jackson said with a sigh as if exhausted by their taunts, “Check this out,” he continued, thrusting his  phone in Griffin’s face. Whereupon, they saw a photo of me from when I was still modeling 5 years ago. I’m lying on a pink satin bedspread in a black negligee, my double D’s tumbling forward, almost completely exposed. And, funny thing, Gordie and Griffie didn’t notice I’m 20 pounds heavier now. Their brains only registered my “boobage”.

“Oh, my God, she’s…”

“I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful, dumb ass,” Jackson said. Awwwww, Jackson, bet you say that to all the girls.

“Okay, dude,” Gordon said. “How the hell did you score a woman like that?”

“I was nice to her,” Jackson said.

At that point, Jackson said the look on Dumb and Dumber’s faces was priceless. Unfortunately, all we have on film is a shot of everyone’s shoes. However, t’was a joint epiphany for my 2 blond adversaries, revealing that, perhaps, chicanery and stupid attempts at humor are not the best way to win a woman. And apparently, Griffin’s asinine question about my blouse was his convoluted attempt at humor.

For fuck’s sake, really?

The next day Gordon or Griffin’s team went on a company retreat, and I never saw them again because my assignment at Mega ended (due to lack of work) while they were gone. So, I didn’t even get to say goodbye to those who brought me so many BELLY laughs at their expense.

But I dare say, I’ll survive.

Over and out from CASA DE CRAZY…

~TenaciousBitch and her band of truth-spouting hippies



Post #125 – REALLY? Dinner in a box and no pajamas?

Posted in Family, Food and beverages, friends, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 23, 2014 by tenaciousbitch

I admit, I’m kinda old-fashioned when it comes to certain things, like when I have people over for dinner, I cook from scratch – (or Charlie does). Bare minimum, we use mostly fresh ingredients with maybe a seasoning packet occasionally if I/we can’t get the mix of spices right for enchiladas or something.

It just seems incredibly indolent to me, to not actually cook the food yourself for your guests, but maybe, I’m just overly fastidious in that respect. However, I know people would have been disappointed if I had served chicken fingers, courtesy of Banquet foods and frozen french fries or something instead of my prize-winning chili at our last party, which takes me about 20 minutes to throw together. Then, it has to cook all day (at least 4 hours). I stir it occasionally, maybe adding a little garlic or a little chili powder, here and there, but that’s it. Not so difficult, n’est-ce pas?

When I recently went to a friend’s for dinner, she doled out re-heated deli ham that was so greasy it made me queasy alongside Bird’s Eye frozen mashed potatoes and a salad composed of iceberg lettuce and bacon bits. Sorry, but I was annoyed. And, yes, they were, in fact, frozen mashed potatoes because I saw the package in the trash, and they had the consistency and taste of rather bland sand.

And how hard is it to make them from the box? I prefer peeled, boiled and smashed potatoes, but the dehydrated potato flakes mixed with milk, etc., that are boiled so carefully 🙂 are just fine. I grew up eating those. But it’s so much healthier to eat mashed potatoes from raw potatoes than whatever the hell was in that frozen crud posing as spuds.

Secondly, I never go anywhere in public without makeup – no, not even the grocery store. Why? Because I’m vain. And? Next question…:)

However, I don’t mean I spend an hour slathering on Revlon’s best camouflage to go to Krogering, just a little concealer, a little  foundation, a little eye liner, and that’s it. That’s just how I roll. Because of my allergies, I always have dark circles under my eyes, so if I don’t wear a little bit of paint, I’ll look like I haven’t slept in a week and/or Charlie’s been smacking me around, which has never – nor would ever happen.

A couple years ago, I worked as part-time, season help one Christmas working for an upscale clothing retailer.  while cleaning my office yesterday, I happened to come across this email I’d printed out while working there. I kept it because I thought it was hilarious. And I’m paraphrasing here for brevity’s sake:

While we have a somewhat relaxed dress code here at XXXX XXXXXXX, certain items of clothing are not allowed including:


track suits

tank tops

halter tops

tops that show one’s midriff

flip flops

hats of any kind


pants or jeans that droop well below the waistline

*Except during designated pajama days, which are twice a year and will be announced via email.

SERIOUSLY? No pjs and no sweats? Damn. What’s the world coming to when you can’t slink into work in your onesy?! 🙂 Before this job, I would’ve been surprised to see something like this in print. Perhaps, it means I’m truly over-the-hill–though I’m only in my 40s, so it’s not like I’m Nana’s age, with that 100th b’day lurking round the bend…but then again, the last time I worked in an office…the photo below portrays my signature duds…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAMaybe, that makes me a fashion snob…so be it…:). Though this photo was taken in 2005, I don’t think corporate America has changed much since then, has it? The gentleman who conducted my first interview at XXXXXX was wearing Brooks Brothers pants, a button down and a tie, and he commented that I looked great and that I should wear similar clothing for my second interview. Funny, I was worried I wasn’t dressed up enough in a long silk skirt with a matching blouse and a long white sweater, but everyone else was dressed like this:

girl in jeans 4

In case you can’t tell by my drawing, she’s wearing jeans, a sweater and a long scarf. And when I say everyone, I mean every applicant had on jeans, a sweater and a long scarf except me and another lady who had on a sweater dress. I remember thinking it was odd that people would wear such casual clothes to interview – though I know most of the open positions were in the call center, but STILL, this wasn’t Walmart. When I say, upscale, I mean, you can’t buy a pair of socks for less than $25 in their online catalog. And their jeans start at $98.

While completing my new hire paperwork, I heard one of the recruiters saying, “Jeans and a sweatshirt are not acceptable for interviewing, but please feel free to reapply in six months in more suitable garments,” to several young girls, and he briefly outlined what was appropriate.

Bravo to Joe Recruiter because I’m sure, otherwise, they would’ve had no idea why they weren’t hired. So, thank you, to my parents for preaching about the appropriate attire for interviews, weddings, etc., when I was a kid. Hell, I wore a black velvet suit to interview at Burger King when I was 16. Overkill? Maybe, but the manager hired me on the spot without even checking my references, and what could it have hurt if he hadn’t?

Therefore, I will never cry uncle to the new trend of dressing down because I fear that day in the future when the memo doesn’t say – “It’s pajama day! Dig out your flannel pjs!” Nay, I fear it will say: “It’s underwear day! Break out your new boxers and your best thongs and bras!” At which point, I will go to ground and telecommute until I’m too old and mad cow-crazy to work anymore…:)

It might seem like these topics are an odd combination: declining workplace wardrobes and dishing up frozen shit to your friends/family. But both trends have been spawned by the same bent in America these days: the art of laziness, an art I hope I never perfect.

Over and out –

TenaciousBitch and her band of overachieving/truth-spouting hippies ~

© Tenacious Bitch 2014

Post # 118 – Will you PLEASE stop trying to give me CAKE!!!

Posted in Family, family battles, Food and beverages, friends, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

In April of 2002, my doctor  told me that he wanted to prescribe medication for high blood pressure. I was only 36 at the time, and I asked him if losing weight would help. He looked at me like I had a couple antennae sprouting atop my head, but he agreed to let me try and asked me to come back in three months. If I didn’t lost any weight, I’d have to take something to reduce my blood pressure, or I was risking a heart attack. A couple days later, I saw a pop-up online for I decided to check it out, and I input my height and weight in their BMI calculator, and I was shocked to see the word OBESE glaring at me from cyberspace. I decided at that very moment, that I was tired of being fat, and that I was REALLY going to do something about it.

Up until my son, Max, was born in ’92, I’d always been relatively thin. And though I gained weight from that pregnancy, the real problem was eating all the wrong food. Max’s Dad (Ashe) and I were separated, so I was a single Mom with two kids, who was up at 3 a.m. every morning giving Max a bottle until he was 15 months. I always made sure the boys had healthy food, but I was frequently grabbing fast food for lunch because I didn’t have time to pack anything – and forget about exercising. It didn’t even enter into the equation.

I modeled in high school and started modeling again in 2005 after I lost 60 pounds. The first photo below was taken in high school.  I weighed 119 pounds in the second photo, taken in college circa 1984…



I’m 5′ 7″ tall, and I weighed around 189 pounds in this lovely pic below before I started dieting in 2002:


Anywho, I did Weight Watchers for a year, and my only exercise was walking. I dropped 25 pounds in three months. My doctor was shocked, and my blood pressure has been normal ever since. In 2003, I hit a plateau at 150 pounds. So, I switched to the South Beach Diet, and I joined a gym. I started working out with weights, taking kickboxing, and various fitness classes. Later that year, my husband bought me a treadmill for Christmas, and I managed to get down to 125 pounds by the spring of 2004. I never thought I’d ever be that small again, but I wore a size 4 in the photo below, taken in 2005 by Steve Crompton – one of the many modeling photos I have from that time period…I’d gain a little back now and then, but I averaged around 135-140 pounds and wore between a size 6 to an 8 until 2009 when my


Dad died. I gained 10 pounds. No big deal, right? But it doesn’t end there. With all the turmoil that happened after he died (i.e. see, it was very difficult to maintain my good habits, and I’ll be honest. I drank like a damned fish. The grief kind of swallowed me. And I was depressed and terrified I’d end up having to take care of my Grandmother, which, of course, happened (see    or

…if you’re wondering why I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of living with my Grandmother).

And, then, from February of 2011 when Nana moved in with us and June 2013 when she went into a nursing home, I gained 18 pounds. Because she’s so damned picky, we couldn’t eat a lot of the healthy food we normally eat – like baked/grilled chicken or fish with brown rice and veggies. We were relegated to meat and potatoes because that’s all she would eat.

However, regardless of how many times I explained to Nana that I DO NOT WANT to eat cake/cookies/pie – which I’m not a big fan of anyway – or donuts, etc., she was constantly trying to get me to eat what she ate. She was like this alcoholic who didn’t wanna eat her sugar fest alone. However, at 96, it’s very difficult for her to gain weight, so she can eat anything she wants.

Now, of course, she has dementia, so I tried not to get irritated with her the last six months or so. But she didn’t when she first moved in with us, and if I had a dime for every time I had to say, “No, thank you, I don’t want half your candy bar (or whatever)”. I could’ve bought a Porsche or two by now.

And then, there’s my friend, Ruth, who I’ve known for 15+ years who stopped by yesterday. She bought 2 pudding cakes because they were on sale and realized she and her husband wouldn’t eat both and did I want one? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! But she foisted it on my husband while I was in the bathroom, and then, she left. So now there’s pudding cake to tempt me too! GODDAMIT! She was around when I porked up to 190 pounds and saw me shrink to a size 6 and how deliriously happy I was when I was thinner.

And, unfortunately, I sprained my foot in the St. Paul airport running to catch my connecting flight to L.A. a couple of weeks ago because my flight from Ohio was late, and I haven’t been able to exercise since.  And despite everything, I’ve been exercising 5 days/week since June, but now I can’t until my foot heals.

And I don’t have any photos of what I look like now because I won’t let anyone take my picture. That’s how bad I look. Even still, since 2002, I’ve done EVERYTHING in my power to avoid eating sugar, by politely refusing all the cake/cookies/brownies, etc.  Why is it so hard for people to understand – if I don’t lose some weight, I’m going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe, and I’ll be UNHEALTHY AGAIN? And it’s not like this is NEWS to anyone. I’m constantly bitching about my weight.

So, NO, I DO NOT WANT ANY F’ING CANDY or CAKE, OR DONUTS OR the COOKIES YOU OFFER EVERY SINGLE TIME I COME TO YOUR HOUSE, Ruth!! And I’ve been saying NO, THANK YOU for almost 12 FUCKING YEARS. Just because Ruth can eat all that and not gain weight – doesn’t mean that I can, obviously!!! And I certainly don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. It’s really nice that Ruth and my husband’s relatives and other folks offer such delicious fare all the time, but PLEASE STOP.

Did you not hear me bitching the day I left for vacation, dear Ruth, when I was packing because so few of my clothes fit? She was standing right there. And don’t get me wrong, I love Ruth dearly, but she, along with most of the world just don’t get it. No, I’m not obese yet, but I’m pretty close. I am teetering on a size 16! My 14’s are tight!! I had to buy a pair of pants in Vegas when it turned cooler because I accidentally brought 3 pair of jeans that are all size 12 because so many of my jeans look alike. And I had a flat tire that day, which seriously shrunk the time I needed to finish packing, so I was rather rushed.

Yes, I realize there are a lot of women who’d be THRILLED to wear a size 14 or a 16. But I am a small-boned person who wore a SIX for five years, and I will DIE trying to get there again – or at least back to an 8/10, and it would help if the entire FUCKING WORLD would stop offering me shit full of sugar and corn syrup. And I don’t care what the media says. Read Jorge Cruise’s new book – The 100 Diet. It spells out very clearly that excess sugar and high fructose corn syrup is linked to several cancers, and often leads to fatty liver syndrome, which my husband had at one time and probably has again, but he hasn’t been tested lately. And, most everyone I know thinks I look fine. But I HATE THE WAY I LOOK, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the only opinion that matters.

Okay, I’ll stop ranting now. I feel much better :)…and, yes, I’m braced for the hate mail for those who think I’m just being vein…but I don’t care. Whatever your feeling about diet/exercise, etc., eating Ho Ho’s, etc., every day isn’t good for anyone.

Peace out from FATTY CENTRAL…

TENACIOUSbitch and her band of truth-spouting hippies…

Yes, I am, in fact – LOOKING FOR CRAZY…:)

Posted in Family, friends, humor, memoir, nonfiction, true crime, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , on September 12, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

I HAVE A NEW BLOG. Its purpose is to gather crazy-assed narratives, post them on WP, and eventually incorporate 4 or 5 of them into a collection/book of bizarro stories called Tales from the Lunatic Lounge, which I am going to self-publish.

Why? Well, because I realized I have way too many stories of OH, MY, GOD that did NOT just happen kind of experiences during my 40+ years of surviving this bewildering thing we call life. And I assume I’m not the only one who has had a number of too flipping weird – not to be true events that have occurred in his/her life, and I thought it would be interesting to create a space to share these yarns of madness for public perusal.

NOTE: The deadline to submit stories for the book is NOVEMBER 15, 2013.

That said, if you’re interested in contributing a CRAZY tome or two, check out the new digs at:

ENJOY, and I look forward to hearing from you! 🙂

THANKS for reading my blog!

TENACIOUS Bitch…and company


POST #112 – Death by CHOCOLATE of the sad variety…

Posted in Family, Food and beverages, humor, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 11, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

My cousin’s birthday was yesterday. I made her a cake from scratch. Why? Well, I’m one of those freaks who prefers to eat food that I can identify or at least pronounce as opposed to a cake with items like these:

Thiamine Mononitrate,Propylene Glycol Mono- and Diesters Of Fats, Mono and Diglycerides, Dextrose, Leavening (Sodium Bicarbonate, Dicalcium Phosphate, Sodium Aluminum Phosphate, Monocalcium Phosphate. Modified Food Starch, Wheat Starch, Polyglycerol Esters Of Fatty Acids, Salt, Cellulose Gum, Xanthan Gum, Maltodextrin.

I have no clue what most of those things are, but suffice to say, the bulk of said components are probably chemicals. And…ahem, those are only SOME of the ingredients in the Duncan Hines chocolate cake mix, which my grandmother always used as the basis of her infamous Coca-Cola cake. However, my cake contained:

Whole wheat flour, cake flour, brown rice flour, eggs, sugar, Splenda (a by-product of sugar, so it is natural even if it’s processed), organic sugar, brown sugar, cocoa, vanilla extract, buttermilk, 1/2 a cup of Coca-Cola, butter, baking soda, a dash of salt, baking powder, and the frosting was comprised of 4 oz. of unsweetened chocolate (100% Cacao, no less, so this fine dessert has tons of fiber) confectioner’s sugar, butter, a little more Coke, a slurp of milk and a dash of vanilla.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOVED Nana’s Coca-Cola cake, which is why I began making them a few years ago.  And there’s NOTHING wrong with making a cake from a cardboard box. But to me, it makes it all the more special if you make a cake or an entree from all natural – or mostly natural ingredients.

Knowing this cake had all that fiber and such helps ease my guilt for consuming carb-laden foods because all the fiber helps to dilute the negative effects of SUGAR on one’s biology. And though excessive sugar is bad for anyone – a piece of cake now and then won’t kill you. Additionally, REAL sugar, and real butter and such aren’t nearly as bad for your liver and other organs as all the concocted ingredients in cake mixes.

But again, no judgement intended for anyone who makes brownies/cakes/cookies, etc., from a box/can. I simply TRY to craft/whip up homemade, organic yummies.

Aside from that, cooking from scratch is a dying art, and if a few of us don’t endeavor to cook and bake from organic foods – some day, maybe, no one will know HOW to blend flour, sugar, et. al into CAKE, and, maybe, all food sources might end up akin to MREs. You know, that food stuff that soldier eat in the trenches? Yeah, some day we could be eating a gooey mess plopped out of a plastic pouch that’s allegedly roast beef and mashed potatoes while longing for home-cooked food, but we’ve never actually baked/broiled cow meat and cut up/boiled and mashed up spuds, so we wouldn’t even know where to start. Sad thought, isn’t it?

And last but not least, sadly, according to several books/studies I’ve read lately, sugar and whatever crap is infiltrating prepared foods seem to be the prevalent suspect contributing to the rising rates of various cancers. In particular, Jorge Cruise’s 100 Diet book wags a rather angry index finger at sugar and processed foods in regard to the underlying cause of several types of cancer.

Plus, three years ago, when I decided to attempt to cook/bake/fry/saute, etc., as many organic meals as possible, I started taking all those old recipes and eliminated prepared foods, and revised them/creating as many organic recipes as possible. Despite the extra work, I lost 11 pounds by eating organic and fresh foods for almost every meal for two weeks in June of 2010. And I had a steak and a baked potato one night with organic chocolate ice cream for dessert and spaghetti another night. Not homemade noodles, but you get the idea.

Sooooooooooooooooooo, that said, after spending all that time making this much-blabbed about birthday cake, it was really delicious…and oh, so pretty…


However, though she LOVED the cake, this is the way it looked upon arrival…


And she sent a text with the photo that said: Cake demolished, but it TASTES GREAT! 🙂

I overnighted it to her since I wasn’t able to make the 300-mile trip for her birthday bash this past weekend, but the U.S. Mail tried their best to decimate it. No surprise there… I’ve sent cookies and brownies through the mail previously, but this was the first time entrusting a cake to the postal service. I double-boxed it, but that wasn’t enough, obviously. I asked Nana how she’d wrapped up the Coca-Cola cake she sent me about 15 years ago for my birthday, but she couldn’t remember. Hers arrived in PRISTINE condition. However, after my cousin called to thank me for the gift and to tell me the cake was delicious – even though it was rather desecrated, it dawned on me that THREE little words could’ve saved my beloved Coca-Cola and Chocolate Confection:


Yeah, I wrote FRAGILE all over the box in red, but I didn’t think about the negative impact of gravity, which my husband reminded me of – sigh…looks like it toppled over and laid upside down for AWHILE. Oh, well, I had included a little tub of extra frosting (the little thingy with the red lid in the photo) in case some of it got stuck to the lid (or all as the case may be).  But she decided to scoop up the lumps of cake, slather them with frosting, then douse them with whipped cream. Apparently, t’was most delectable that way…:)

And it is, after all, the THOUGHT that counts…:)

PEACE OUT from the hapless kitchen of TENACIOUS BITCH and company…

© Tenacious Bitch 2013

Post #107 – If you’re weird, and you know it…clap your hands! :)

Posted in beer, college, Family, friends, humor, marriage, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, thrillers, true stories, true stories, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 6, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

First, my mother told me I was weird in high school because I like sci-fi and horror books and movies as well as thriller and action movies. I have many tomes by Mr. King and Mr. Koontz. For some odd reason though since I majored in English/Creative Writing, Mom assumed I should be sitting around reading Milton or Melville or something equally high brow.

However, in college I was usually bored in traditional Literature classes like British Lit 101. That said, there were some authors/books from the required reading list that I liked including:

Charles Dickens. Loved Great Expectations.

Emily Bronte: Wuthering Heights still ROCKS.

Daphne DuMaurier:  Will anyone EVER forget Rebecca? Which incidentally I first read in the 8th Grade. So, perhaps, that makes me doubly strange with a cherry on top…dunno, you be the judge.

Franz Kafka: The Metamorphosis. Those of us who have survived corporate America, can we NOT relate to feeling like an insect?

F. Scott Fitzgerald – The Great Gatsby, the book and the movie (either version)!

1984 by George Orwell.

And there are a few others, but I won’t bore you with the rest. So, ANYWHO…about being weird…

Though he loves me, and he’s very good to me, my husband also thinks I’m weird because:

1) I, like Sally Albright, get cold, occasionally, when it’s below 72 degrees.

2) I wolf down dark chocolate covered in peanut butter once in awhile with a glass of Merlot or a beer. It’s a family thing. My great-grandmother used to eat chocolate with a pint ‘o beer all the time, so I’m in good company. So, maybe, it’s an Irish thing. Dunno…never been to the land of my ancestors though I hope to some day.

3) As I said, I prefer action/thriller/horror/sci fi books/movies to chick lit and chick flicks though I LOVE memoirs.  Unfortunately, I find SOME chick lit to be contrived and boring, and I stopped reading  50 Shades of Gray about 40 pages in (couldn’t relate to anyone that submissive).  But memoirs? The characters are more genuine since they’re about contradictory/cantankerous/flawed humans who are brutally honest about a drug problem, for example (i.e. Portrait of a Young Man as an Addict by Bill Clegg) or maybe they overcame severe circumstances like Jeanette Walls in A Glass Castle and the like. As they say, truth is stranger than fiction. However, I do love FICTION as well, obviously.

However, there are some chick flicks/romantic comedies that I absolutely adore like:

Ahem, When Harry Met Sally if you didn’t get the Sally Albright reference above.

The Wedding Singer

Serious Moonlight

Pretty Woman (what’s not to like?)

Oh, and lest we forget, Moonstruck with my favorite DIVA, Cher.

4) So, why else am I weird besides the fact that I prefer most of the same movies as my husband? Well, because I’m not big on SPOOFS.

I think most of them are stupid. Max and Charlie both LOVE Shaun of the Dead, which annoyed me, and all the Austin Powers movies, which have comedic moments, but they’re just not for me. So, when anyone mentions movies like those, I suddenly have 5 loads of laundry to do.

But don’t think that my taste in movies is logical because I will watch Clerks, Jay and Silent Bob or Dogma all DAY LONG, which some might consider spoofs or spoof-ish. Yes, MEGA fan of Kevin Smith. I even like Comic Book Men. And wasn’t Kevin Smith AWESOME in Die Hard 4? Yes, the WARLOCK rules!

Aside from all that, I’m weird because:

5) I don’t care if my socks match (a navy blue/black combo is commonplace for moi), but I hate it if my bra and panties don’t match and/or if my pillow cases don’t match my bedspread. I know. I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but who SAYS I HAVE TO? 🙂

6) I am OBSESSED with British Television, and my current faves are – Doctor Who (when’s it coming back on??!!!) MI-5, and Downton Abby. And I’ll be distraught after watching the 86th episode of MI-5 on Netflix cuz then, I’ll have nothing to watch after the Old Man goes to bed. I’m also still reeling from the death of Adam Carter, and if he left because of some squabble with a director or something, might just cross the pond to deck the bastard…just so you know! 🙂

7) I don’t care that I’ve never eaten a Big Mac or a slider from White Castle. No loss! Steak n shake is my FAV! Get over it.

8) Though I’ve been accused of not being a girlie girl, I rarely EVER go out in public without makeup even if I’m just going to the grocery store.

9)  It gets on my last nerve if the kitchen and the bathrooms are dirty, but a little clutter doesn’t bother me. A lot of CLUTTER is different. For example…, check out this post   ….yeah, that BOTHERS ME…:)

10) And last but not least: I like working alone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not antisocial. My friends will attest I can be the life of the party. And I’ve been known to hang out in bars until daylight (years ago, but still). That said, I much prefer working at home, with just my black lab and 2 cats because they don’t GO on and on about every single argument with their spouse over who ate the last muffin or the oh, so exciting plot of the Kardashians or Mad Men, or another broadcast I don’t care about.

So, there you have it. My weirdness cataloged…and, personally, I much prefer being deemed ODD (not to be confused with Odd Thomas cuz I can’t see ghosts)…than being called God forbid…BORING…

See what I mean? What a GEEK I am…this was one of my Facebook posts last week…

TROUBLE WITH TRIBLES  A perfect date night for me and my hubby: a bottle of Merlot and TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES…:)

So, CHEERS to all of us weirdos, harmless weirdos…not those guys in raincoats who flash people in public…:)

Over and out from fracked up CENTRAL or something like that…:)

TenaciousB and her band of truth-spouting hippies…

© Tenacious Bitch 2013

Post #106 – Trippin’ with the tribe – AGAIN!

Posted in Family, friends, memoir, music, nonfiction, relationships, rock music, Travel, true stories, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on July 29, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

So, apparently, I shouldn’t get gas as I leave town. The last time I took off to see my husband’s band, Murnane Tribe, play at the Rock House in Indy, I drove off with the gas cap clanking loudly against the side of my Escalade (as mentioned in this post: THIS time, I pulled in too close to a white metal barrier next to the gas pumps, and I heard this metallic CRUNCH as I pulled away, only to find that I had scraped the side of my car on the white metal barrier, leaving a lovely set of skid marks on my SUV (sigh) – pictured below.

SIDE OF MY CARI hope we can buy some touch-up paint or something to cover up those streaks. If not, OOPS…and double oops…

Otherwise, all went well, and it was a great show. However, I had dinner with my cousin Juliana and her husband before the show, and she kept adding more Merlot to my glass when it was half empty. So, I lost track of time, and in a blink, it was 11:30. I hurriedly changed clothes and drove to the club, which was about 15 minutes away, and I missed the first 2 songs. But that’s okay, I saw the remainder of their set (i.e. the photos below). My husband’s the front man on the left playing bass and singing.

MIKE TONY 23JUST TONYUnfortunately, the batteries were dead in my camera, and some of my cell photos are blurry. Yes, I know, next time – CHECK one’s equipment before leaving… JUST SEAN 4  Sean, the drummer for Murnane Tribe.

I stayed for a little while after the Tribe quit playing to see the last band, Misunderstood, who were really good. They’re from Dayton, I think, and they were rather reminiscent of the Runaways. A couple photos of them below…

LEAD SINGER - MISUNDERSTOOD   Lead singer for Misunderstood.

MISUNDERSTOOD 2 Misunderstood at the Rock House Cafe – Indianapolis, July 27, 2013

Murnane Tribe, however, didn’t start playing until midnight, and by the time I got back to Juliana’s house on the South end of Indianapolis and got ready for bed, it was almost 3 AM when I crashed for the night. So…I’m a rather worn out today.

Then, in the morning, much to my surprise, Juliana’s cat, Mocha, decided I’m now her BFF (photo below).

MOCHA MY NEW BFFShe’s always either ignored me or hissed at me whenever I dared to walk near her.  However, this time, she climbed up on my lap, mewed demurely, then curled up and went to sleep. Of course, she did this just as I was about to get up and get dressed and head out the door.

I checked my email on my phone and let her sleep a few minutes, and when I started to sit up and displace her, she hissed at me again. So, I guess I can’t win. Finally, I just sat up and gingerly set her back down on the couch, which is when I snapped the photo above. She was glaring at me, so I don’t know if that just made it appear as though she’s cross-eyed, or she is actually cross-eyed. She’s never cozied up to me before to where I could actually SEE her eyes before this past weekend. I emailed Juliana for clarification, but I haven’t heard back from her yet.

Anywho…after getting stuck in construction traffic and behind a wreck on 70 East, I made it home around 6:30 last night.  Back to the not-so-glamorous life of a rock star’s wife with 14 pounds of dirty laundry waiting for me and a scratched up SUV (triple oops).

And as a follow-up to my previous posts about my trip back home to WV for high school reunion – mentioned in these posts:

Brenda (a friend from HEHS) emailed me this link about the pink elephant:

So, I guess that iconically weird statue remains a mystery…

Oh, and as a side note:  the Tribe got to do a promo for an Internet radio station in London, so stay tuned…I’ll post the link to the radio station whenever the promo is finished. Kind of exciting, yeah?

Over and out from CRAZYTOWN’S annex…

TenaciousBITCH and her band of truth-spouting hippies…

© Tenacious Bitch 2013