I’m a Bitch

My mom was quite a looker. Not just the run-of-the-mill pleasant-looking woman in the 50s, but a tiny, blazing-blue-eyed fiery redhead who made her own perfectly fitted suits (no pants for that lady, strictly skirts) and wore 4" spectator pumps to work in the city every day. She worked at the Daily News, one of... Continue Reading →

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