My Mother met her third mail order husband through one of those ads they used to put in the back of True Story and True Romance magazines. All the Guntown sisters loved loved loved those magazines and I grew up reading the ones they threw in the coal pile. That and True Detective, that was the one that had those lurid pictures on the front of a bound woman gasping in terror as some mad man prepared to kill her in some hidious way. If you knew my father, you'd know why those scared me so much. I knew it could happen and did happen. But, I could never leave a good scare alone and I read them all. I learned to read at age four and I will never forget the day I started reading. I was sitting in the car waiting for my daddy to come out of a beer joint, he said he was coming right back, but, I knew better. He would always get hammered and end up in a poker game or at some floozy's house or in a bar fight, he never came out until the place closed or the until the next morning and I just slept in the car all night. Sometimes my brother was there, but, mom babied him, so most of the time he was safe at home in his bed. I always brought crayons and paper with me, play dough if I had any, marbles and little toys and there was always a blanket in the car. It really wasn't so awful, though I know people reading this will feel sorry for the poor little girl left in an old car in a shitty dark neighborhood outside a bar all night. Don't. I really liked it. When my daddy wasn't drunk he didn't scare me and when he was drunk he usually stayed in the tavern. It was like having my own small apartment and most times there were drunken trampy women who wanted to impress him, so they'd come outside and check on me, usually once, but, they'd buy me cokes and strawberry and orange soda pop and candy. If any bad men came and scared me, I just locked the door and hid on the floor until they went away. The real bad man was the one I'd come with, so no one scared me much. I considered it the Life of Riley.*
Once I was left in this alleyway, it was brick and stained and dark and it smelled funny. It kind of smelled like the outhouse at home before anyone poured the monthly dose of lyme in the holes. There was this crazy sign at the end of the alley facing the street and it was billboard size, so I could see it real good even though it was tilted. It was bright orange and it had a black cat sitting on it and the damn cat's tail wagged endlessly back and forth. It's eyes rolled back and forth too and it had a shit eating grin. I loved that sign, it had some writing on it, in black letters, and after I'd watched it off and on for hours one of the Floozy's came out and said "y'all alright out here, little girl?" I remember she was pretty for a beer joint Jezebel, which is a word I heard the Sisters use. Trampy Jezebel, beer joint floozy. Her eyes were painted to look like the cat on the sign. I scammed her for a root beer and some licorice sticks and asked her to read me that sign. She said "Black Cat Batteries." Black Cat..there were three words and the middle one was cat and there was cat on the sign and it was...black! Good grief, the lightbulb went on. Those letter things made words which matched actual things! I was amazed and impressed and couldn't wait to learn more. I bothered everyone in the family for months after that "What's this word? What's that say?" Gowd, they got so sick of me sometimes I was told if I ask one more reading question I'd get the whipping of my life. And if I wanted to read so bad, why didn't I read The Good Book? I tried, but, it was full of begats and begots and I couldn't make heads or tails of the thing. I could read a lot though. By the time I was four and a half I could read all the story books I could scrounge from my cousins and by the time I was five I had moved on to the coal pile. Dick and Jane could go suck eggs, I wanted something a little more exciting.
*
There was no library, well, there might have been, but, I had no chance in hell of seeing it. The Sisters had no reason or time to take a smart mouthed kid to go get something as dumb as books. Books became like treasures to me and I'd beg my dad to park the car under a street light and I'd just get out a book and go into another world. I went through all the books I could get my hot little hands on and that's when I found the coal pile. Oh, the coal pile. A wonderful place where all scrap paper went and was either disposed of in the furnace or was used to start the morning fire. Piles and piles of new reading material. True Story, True Romance, Truer Than True Romance, movie mags galore and True Detective. RosaLee laughed at me until I told her the tale of the wife who was cut apart with an axe and put in a bag. Her family found her still alive, but, with no arms, no legs and no head! RoseaLee said she couldn't be alive with no head and I said, uhh huu, yes sir, she was too because he'd just cut her head off and everybody knows you can live for a few minutes with no head just like chickens. RosaLee had seen chickens butchered just like I had and she knew that was true. I told how that poor woman, who always went to church on Sundays, begged her murderous husband to let her hold her bible as she died and he did, but, then he chopped her arm right off and laughed while she screamed. And I told how that bible was covered in pools of blood. After that, a horrified RosaLee and my other older cousin LuAnne, who became secretly known as Bitchy Lou, started hiding True Detective in their closet and reading it all the time. It scared us all silly and we liked to see who could find the most horrible way to die. I always won that one. Because I had personal experience with terror.
*
Bitchy Lou wasn't a nice little girl. Everybody said so. She came over sometimes when her Mother, my Aunt Magdelain, was speaking to the Guntown Sisters, but, that wasn't often. Magdelain was uppity, just plain uppity. She kept her house spotless and painted everything white and bought white furniture and white rugs. That was suspicious, the Sisters said. They narrow their eyes when they talked about Magdelain, she married before them and she married for money. Uhhh hu. Her first husband was a shoe store manager. It's a sin to marry for money, you should always find your true love and he should just naturally have some money. Otherwise, you just might be a floozy. Magdelaine had three kids, besides Bitchy Lou who was the baby and spoiled, she had an older married and divorced daughter named Jenette and a son named Spunky. I don't know what his real name was, I never met him. Maybe it was really Spunky. He was born severly retarded and hydrocephalic and he lived in an institution. There was no cure for that then, everyone called him a "water head" baby and the tales about him were worse than those in True Detective magazine. I was scared of Spunky tales and I pictured him kind of like a Zombie with a deformed toddler body and a rotten Watermelon head. If we were bad, they'd say "Spunky will get you!" Jenette was killed when her boy friend's motorcycle went under a semi at an intersection and she was decapitated like Jayne Mansfield, who was a big star back then and the Sisters all said she was a floozy with dyed blond hair and awful hidious big breasts. Jayne Mansfield, not Jenette. Jenette was a sweet auburn haired girl and left behind five little kids. But, that's what you get when you ride around on motorcycles with men. Nice girls do not ride on motorcycles with men. My Aunt Magdelain wouldn't raise them kids and that was unnatural and evil, the Sisters claimed, even though they had a Daddy who raised them. It never made much sense to me, what was Aunt Magdelain supposed to do? Take their perfectly nice Daddy to court and fight him because they were her blood grand kids and he didn't take them to Sunday school? Anyway, she didn't and they said she was a bad seed. Her painting all the walls white and buying white furniture was way worse though. THAT'S what you get when you marry for money and let your eight year old daughter wear pants and sing songs like "Lipstick On Your Collar" (told a tale on you-hoo.) Bitchy Lou knew that whole song by heart and I thought she had a pretty good voice. It was too bad she was so chubby and obnoxious though. And she lied a lot. I mean, there's a difference between story telling and out and out lies and she always got caught. She spun some whoppers. She told that one of her step daddies MO-lested her and RosaLee was so upset she asked if he'd touched her b, b, b, breast and Bitchy Lou said no, he sniffed her underpants out on the clothes line and we all knew she was a big fat liar because who in the world goes around and sniffs underpants? No one ever believed a thing she said after awhile. Things got fun when she came around though, because she was real bad. I was just bad and bound for hell, but, Bitchy Lou was heading there on a big red freight train.
Bitchy Lou wasn't a nice little girl. Everybody said so. She came over sometimes when her Mother, my Aunt Magdelain, was speaking to the Guntown Sisters, but, that wasn't often. Magdelain was uppity, just plain uppity. She kept her house spotless and painted everything white and bought white furniture and white rugs. That was suspicious, the Sisters said. They narrow their eyes when they talked about Magdelain, she married before them and she married for money. Uhhh hu. Her first husband was a shoe store manager. It's a sin to marry for money, you should always find your true love and he should just naturally have some money. Otherwise, you just might be a floozy. Magdelaine had three kids, besides Bitchy Lou who was the baby and spoiled, she had an older married and divorced daughter named Jenette and a son named Spunky. I don't know what his real name was, I never met him. Maybe it was really Spunky. He was born severly retarded and hydrocephalic and he lived in an institution. There was no cure for that then, everyone called him a "water head" baby and the tales about him were worse than those in True Detective magazine. I was scared of Spunky tales and I pictured him kind of like a Zombie with a deformed toddler body and a rotten Watermelon head. If we were bad, they'd say "Spunky will get you!" Jenette was killed when her boy friend's motorcycle went under a semi at an intersection and she was decapitated like Jayne Mansfield, who was a big star back then and the Sisters all said she was a floozy with dyed blond hair and awful hidious big breasts. Jayne Mansfield, not Jenette. Jenette was a sweet auburn haired girl and left behind five little kids. But, that's what you get when you ride around on motorcycles with men. Nice girls do not ride on motorcycles with men. My Aunt Magdelain wouldn't raise them kids and that was unnatural and evil, the Sisters claimed, even though they had a Daddy who raised them. It never made much sense to me, what was Aunt Magdelain supposed to do? Take their perfectly nice Daddy to court and fight him because they were her blood grand kids and he didn't take them to Sunday school? Anyway, she didn't and they said she was a bad seed. Her painting all the walls white and buying white furniture was way worse though. THAT'S what you get when you marry for money and let your eight year old daughter wear pants and sing songs like "Lipstick On Your Collar" (told a tale on you-hoo.) Bitchy Lou knew that whole song by heart and I thought she had a pretty good voice. It was too bad she was so chubby and obnoxious though. And she lied a lot. I mean, there's a difference between story telling and out and out lies and she always got caught. She spun some whoppers. She told that one of her step daddies MO-lested her and RosaLee was so upset she asked if he'd touched her b, b, b, breast and Bitchy Lou said no, he sniffed her underpants out on the clothes line and we all knew she was a big fat liar because who in the world goes around and sniffs underpants? No one ever believed a thing she said after awhile. Things got fun when she came around though, because she was real bad. I was just bad and bound for hell, but, Bitchy Lou was heading there on a big red freight train.
*
The sisters used to sit around the formica table at night and drink tons of coffee and talk about men and everyone who had a man and everyone who, sadly, didn't have a man. They would talk about the poor unfortunate girls who gave into a man's passion, like they read in True Story magazine, and how it ruined their lives because they weren't good anymore and no one but drunkards and prisoners would marry them. If you were stupid enough to do it twice, the only husband you could hope to get was a drunken prisoner. And he would beat you when he got released from prison and he had a right to, in a way, because you could not wear white to your wedding. That was the law. They said there was a girl, right in our town, that could not resist a certain man and she was now in the family way and her life was ruined all because she let him do you know what to her. And they all looked so shocked and sorry and they shook their heads and clasped their hands around the cups on that grey spotted white formica table top with the little red boomarangs all over it as us kids listened in on the yellowed linolium floor where we were supposed to be coloring. And I whispered to Bitchy Lou, "She let him do what?" And Bitchy Lou whispered back.. "IT." I said, what? And Bitchy Lou jumped up and said "I KNOW WHAT! THIS!" And she put two fingers together to make a circle and she jammed a finger from her other hand through the circle, pushing it in and out and lolling her tounge. Oh, THAT. Well, why didn't somebody just say so? The Sisters were horrified by Bitchy Lou's display of vulgarity. Her dress was yanked up and her ass was beaten good and proper and she cried like a big baby. I never cried unless they used a belt or a switch...and most of the time I just screamed because it hurt their ears. Big old baby Bitchy Lou. And when they asked her where she learned this vulgar sinful behavior, do you know what that old Bitchy Lou said? She said I read it to her from one of my True Story magazines that I hid in the chicken coop. That bitch! I did no such of a thing. They confiscated all my reading material which was the same as a death sentance and they made me go back to Sunday School. I hated that place worse than the chicken pox, which I also caught from Bitchy Lou, and I had to wait a whole month before they threw out some new magazines for me to swipe. I had to find a better hiding place too and I got smarter. I left them right where they were after that and started reading right there in the coal chute. If you proped open the shuttle door you could see pretty good and no one ever went down there, except to light a fire in the mornings. I'd put the ones I'd already read right on top of the stack to be used for kindling. Sweet.
The sisters used to sit around the formica table at night and drink tons of coffee and talk about men and everyone who had a man and everyone who, sadly, didn't have a man. They would talk about the poor unfortunate girls who gave into a man's passion, like they read in True Story magazine, and how it ruined their lives because they weren't good anymore and no one but drunkards and prisoners would marry them. If you were stupid enough to do it twice, the only husband you could hope to get was a drunken prisoner. And he would beat you when he got released from prison and he had a right to, in a way, because you could not wear white to your wedding. That was the law. They said there was a girl, right in our town, that could not resist a certain man and she was now in the family way and her life was ruined all because she let him do you know what to her. And they all looked so shocked and sorry and they shook their heads and clasped their hands around the cups on that grey spotted white formica table top with the little red boomarangs all over it as us kids listened in on the yellowed linolium floor where we were supposed to be coloring. And I whispered to Bitchy Lou, "She let him do what?" And Bitchy Lou whispered back.. "IT." I said, what? And Bitchy Lou jumped up and said "I KNOW WHAT! THIS!" And she put two fingers together to make a circle and she jammed a finger from her other hand through the circle, pushing it in and out and lolling her tounge. Oh, THAT. Well, why didn't somebody just say so? The Sisters were horrified by Bitchy Lou's display of vulgarity. Her dress was yanked up and her ass was beaten good and proper and she cried like a big baby. I never cried unless they used a belt or a switch...and most of the time I just screamed because it hurt their ears. Big old baby Bitchy Lou. And when they asked her where she learned this vulgar sinful behavior, do you know what that old Bitchy Lou said? She said I read it to her from one of my True Story magazines that I hid in the chicken coop. That bitch! I did no such of a thing. They confiscated all my reading material which was the same as a death sentance and they made me go back to Sunday School. I hated that place worse than the chicken pox, which I also caught from Bitchy Lou, and I had to wait a whole month before they threw out some new magazines for me to swipe. I had to find a better hiding place too and I got smarter. I left them right where they were after that and started reading right there in the coal chute. If you proped open the shuttle door you could see pretty good and no one ever went down there, except to light a fire in the mornings. I'd put the ones I'd already read right on top of the stack to be used for kindling. Sweet.
*
The next year I started school and I went straight to the first grade, there was no kindergarden back then. When the teacher started us reading she picked the Dick and Jane series. The first one was See Spot Run and she said she'd read the first sentance and see who could read the next one. I stood up to tell her I'd read all those books already and she thought I wanted to read out loud. She asked if I could read the sentance after "See Spot run?" She smiled real sweet and I know she wanted me to say "Run Spot, run!" She seemed so nice, I blurted out "I don't like Dick and Jane very much but, they're better than that Elizabeth Taylor! She was a floozy and broke up Debbie Reynolds marriage to Eddie Fisher!" Ahh, a good start on my education. This teacher was going to be impressed with me, that's for sure. It was a proud day.
The next year I started school and I went straight to the first grade, there was no kindergarden back then. When the teacher started us reading she picked the Dick and Jane series. The first one was See Spot Run and she said she'd read the first sentance and see who could read the next one. I stood up to tell her I'd read all those books already and she thought I wanted to read out loud. She asked if I could read the sentance after "See Spot run?" She smiled real sweet and I know she wanted me to say "Run Spot, run!" She seemed so nice, I blurted out "I don't like Dick and Jane very much but, they're better than that Elizabeth Taylor! She was a floozy and broke up Debbie Reynolds marriage to Eddie Fisher!" Ahh, a good start on my education. This teacher was going to be impressed with me, that's for sure. It was a proud day.
38 comments:
You are awesome! I really enjoy reading just about anything you write....one thing for sure, you have def lived....lot's of people just breath, but you have lived and that's rich!
Keep on writing! :)
Thank you! I wonder if it occured to the Sisters that if a five year old could understand True Romance, well, maybe adults should be reading something with more substance? LOL. No, it didn't.
Pat, I love this story! I admire how you came through all that in your childhood. PS glad to see your computer still seems to be with you.
Thanks! Yeah, that lightening bolt threw her for a loop. They've left me alone for almost two whole days. I forgot to put in the story that this all happened in Oregon. I guess it doesn't matter.
As always...... I loved the story......YOU ARE AWESOME PAT.... keep this up, we all want more more more...
That bitch!! lol I enjoyed this story too, Pat! I can't wait to read about your school years. That should be even more interesting!
LuAnne, RosaLee... you weren't joking about their connected name obsession! And wow you must have been born with some serious brain power (i think you got all the intelligence genes in your family, haha!)
More, more, more . . .
I've never said that to a writer before.
Those of us here are truly blessed to be getting all these pre-book teasers.
My very first 'book' was The Outsiders.
Ah, DD.
I love your writing so much. When I get to the end, I want more! Sooo glad Mom didn't get to your computer. Someone or something was looking out for you!
Pat, another captivating read.
Awesome. Loved Spunky and his watermelon head!
wow my life is boring!
Thank you for the latest installment. Loved the post about the raccoons in your life also.
After reading your post, I tried to remember when I learned to read and I can't. I just remember Dick and Jane were lame. Clearly you were (and are) a gifted person and you remember everything so well which is a bonus for us. And if you don't remember everything you fill in the gaps plausibly lol.
I'm glad you still have your computer too. Maybe someone was looking out for us as well cuz I'd be a little bit lost without this blog.
Thank you all for reading me. It's so amazing that anyone is reading this stuff!
Gawd, memories! I still remember the smell of my dads car. Back in the day that men would drive around & drink beer from bottles, all day long. Just driving around, drinking. And nobody cared!Stopping at the occasional bar to grab more beer & see who was around. If he was very intoxicated he'd just pull off the side of the road & sleep it off. He never had us with him with he was like that. The smell of the stained car upholstery is still in my memory. Cigarettes, beer and dusty roads. Like my grandmas purse, it always smelled like Pall Malls & Dentyne. Always! And I loved it! My dad used to joke when I was little, he'd say "roll up the windows and we will pretend we have AC!" It was funny. He was a gentle man, even when drinking. Except to my mom and she was the reason he drank in the 1st place. I understood that. Gawd, DD. The momories. The smells. Gawd!
Rox
Fallstaff & Black Label long necks DD! Right????? And can beer had to be opened with a "church key"!! hahaha
Rox
Pat,
You truly have a gift for writing. I felt the coal soot on me as I was sitting there with you reading.
I thought we had characters in my family. We look very tame next to yours!
'nuff said
People want to read it because it's interesting and real. I love these stories!
Reading is better than anything. I can't remember not being able to read but I never got to read anything as juicy as you read.
The day Janyne Mansfield I remember seeing a small pic of her on the front page of the newspaper. I knew what happened, I was probably 10. I knew. It happened in Gulfport, Miss, I had just moved back north from Biloxi, so they talked alot about how my mom knew the roads down there...I was in my g'pas pick up truck, sitting in between him & the ex convict he had hired to work at his gas station. Who later on did get caught stealing! We were on our way to fish in the Wabash river, in my g'pas new row boat. They talked about Jayne all the way to the river. I could tell the convict guy had the hots for her. I caught a very small fish that day. I was the only one that did! Thats how I remember Jayne Mansfield being killed. gawd, DD! You have really ignited my old memories. Its odd to think about being a little girl back in those times. Guys standing around the gas station, dumping Lance peanuts into their little Coke bottles and drinking it! Stuff like that, I had filed away.
Rox
Oh, Rox, remember the commercial? "Mabel! Black Label! Carling's Black Label Beeeeeer!"
OMG, it had a man snapping his fingers at a woman in an apron who'd jump up to get him his beer. Jesus. I'd forgotten about that.
Yep, poor Jayne. She was killed later on, but, I always associate her death with my cousin Jenette because they were both supposedly decapitated. I later leaned that it was a wig they found at the Mansfield death site and she probably wasn't decapitated, but, that's the story that always followed that tragedy. She was so beautiful so the thought of her head being cut off made the story even worse. Her little daughter Marissa Hargitay was in the car and was uninjured and went on to star in Law And Order. I always wonder how that story affected her. You can look up the wreck online and wonder how anyone made it out alive.
I later had the blond hair and "hidious" big boobs, which I was taught was trampy and ugly.
Dumping peanuts in Coke bottles was a Southern thing, my Daddy did it. He was from South Carolina and had a heavy accent. I never learned to like peanuts in Coke.
What an excellent read! I can't wait for the next one.
As for the red boomerang formica, I have a sample of that in my kitchen drawer right now (now it's "vintage" and cool)...but I don't think I'll look at it the same way again.
I knew someone would remember that pattern! It is cool vintage now, back then it was "modern."
that was a good read!!!
i am looking at my july 1962 Top Secret magazine with liz taylor on the cover!!! i have gossip mags from the 50s with eddie fisher and debbie reynolds talking about their marriage and happy life!!
those mags are a great read!!! :D
DD! I totally remember those Black Label commercials. And Edie Adams White Owl commercials. Commercials back then were an event. Edie was fab! I wanted to be like Edie!!! We didnt get up & do anything when commercilas came on, we didnt wanna miss anything! hahaha...it was good being a kid back when TV was so simple and you had to get up to change the channel & fix the volume, color, vertical hold! hahaha...the good old days. Remember when TV's would "roll" gawd! Stop the rolling!!!! My kids would not get it! Once in Miss we had 1 TV with sound, 1 with a pic. My dad just stacked them on top of each other. Voila' we had TV again!
Rox
LMAO! I SO remember those TV's. You were lucky if one channel came in fair and the other two were always a mess of snow. I remember one TV we had that someone had to hold the tin foil wrapped rabbit ears to get the good channel to come in. My cousins and I would fight over who had to hold it, because the holder couldn't see the screen. My uncle Albert fell off the roof one time trying to get the ancient antenna pointing right because Elvis was on Ed Sullivan and my Aunt wouldn't miss it for anything. That poor man was four stories up on the top of the old mansion and she just kept hollering at him out a window "Albert! You get Elvis on this TV right now! I mean it, Albert!" The trees broke his fall and he crawled back in on the shakey second floor balcony and she didn't even go out, because Elvis was on!
gawd, rabbit ears & tin foil. Hellz yea! We had the ones that you could click around to a channel, click-click-click. I never could figure out how the rabbit ears had channels! haha. This reminds me of TV decor! My grandma had a long sleek low shiny black panther planter on her TV. Among other things. A Niagra Falls lamp (it spins around) I seriously wish I had that damn thing. I would buy a coffee table book of old TV regalia. It was awesome to go to other peoples house to see what decor their mom had on their TV! If it was really nice stuff, I would feel like a poor kid. I guess I was anyway. But TV decor was important.
Rox
Awesome attention to detail, DD, like the formica table top. These are pure touches of genius!
Thanks Faerie. All the comments mean a lot to me.
Rox, TV lamps are very collectible now, as I'm sure you know. People were convinced you'd go blind if you watched TV in the dark back then and they made some fancy TV lamps. I have that black panther one, it's a planter too..lol. And I have the one that spun and looked like a forest fire. They're up in the loft somewhere. I collect glass grapes too. 'Member those things? Everyone had them on the coffee table.
yep...panther light, panther planter, panther ashtray too! remember those at one of my grandmother's houses...
Loved the story. I was a little girl in the 70s and spent a lot of time locked in the car reading while my parents shopped. I also remember going to the bar but they let me come in. It must have been a classy place because there was a tapestry over the bar of a bull and matador. I also remember a pretty cocktail waitress there that looked out for me while dad got drunk. She had a ponytail on the side of her head and I thought that was just the epitome of glamor. Heh. Us kids who grew up looking after ourselves find adulthood a little bit easier than others, I think. Or maybe I just tell myself that so I don't have to realize how shitty my childhood was.
You had them too, Tia? LOL..I think everyone knew someone that had that panther.
Tonya, I think you may be right. We do seem to not fear living alone. Things were different then, it's not like people thought our folks were rotten just because they left us in cars..and blew smoke in our faces and had us mix their cocktails. Geez, that sounds bad now, but, back then it was sort of normal.
So, I went to YouTube, and there are the Black Label commericals on there..those old ads bring back lots of memories! I remeber riding in my grandma's car, and the 70's plastic/ double knit fabric/smell is what I remeber, or drivng with my dad, and him smoking PallMall unfiltered. What second-hand smoke!?
And I am jealous of those of you who had color tv's! LOL
Okay, by the 70's I had a kid and I hate to think how bad a parent I was by todays standards. There wasn't even such a thing as a baby car seat when he was born. Not that I know of and I know there were no laws about it. Shocking to young parents today.
Wow! I love your stories. You have had a very interesting childhood. Keep the stories coming!
Thank you Pat!! I really loved that story. I identified with the little girl taking care of herself. I too was an early and avid reader and could lose myself for hours in a book. A by-product of both of the above statements was a tendency to "identify" and interact with adults better than with children.
As soon as I read the Jayne Mansfield part I immediately thought of Mariska (one of my favorite actresses). I'm a closet hollywood "scandal" junky so the tragic story definately captivates me.
And...I fully remember the times before baby-seats, seatbelts, air bags and when it was perfectly accetable to ride in a car for 2 hours with dad chain smoking and the windows rolled up!
thanks again for sharing :)
Ah, Hollywood scandal, I wonder how I would have turned out without it? Probably boring..lol!
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