Sorry, when I think of Theresa, I think of her purse. I know that's not so profound to the uninitiated, but you have to understand that her purse must have been a portal to another universe that was directly connected to three Super Wal-Marts. I've never seen so much crap come out of that thing, and I just waited for the day you pulled out a turkey leg or diesel generator. I mean I thought I was doing pretty well with having nail clippers in my man bag - and I'm an Eagle Scout. Anyway, Theresa got the ordering in french thing down and could drink tequila like a sailor. And oh yes, she had to put up with Jim - but that's obviously an old skill. By the way, haven't started on the leftover Anejo, it's too emotional for me right now. And with the upcoming Tequila party for Lucia's wedding, I think I should pace myself.
(And the composite might need a bit of explanation to the uninitiated - the cotton ball at the end is Fry. Didn't want to leave him out.)
