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NO SONGS FOR MEN? Question #1: Off the top of your head, can you name a song that has a man’s name as the title? Answer: If you did, I’m impressed— because 92.2% of those surveyed did not! Question #2: Now if I ask you to name a song with a girl’s name as the title, I bet you can come up with something really quick… Answer: Veronica, Jane, Michelle, Angie, Layla, Maria—there are tons of great songs named after women, and I’m sure it was no problem for you to come up with a few! Why is this? Well, I think most women know the reason. We just never feel that inspired to write a love song about a man. Maybe at the beginning of a relationship we’ll pen a few verses, but eventually most men will break our heart, don’t put down the toilet seat, get love handles, annoy the crap out of us, and then there goes the hit song. The only songs I can think of with men’s names are really horrible like “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” or “Ben,” which by the way was about a rat. In the new web series No Songs for Men, all of the female characters have the names of popular rock songs from the 70’s and 80’s with a woman’s name as the title: Beth, Amanda, Jenny, Sara, and Beth’s sister, Christian. These talented women are all members of the indie rock band sensation Code Cherry! It’s The Runaways meets Sex and the City as we follow the music, sisterhood, and liaisons of these five incredible women as they compose the reasons why there really are no songs for men.
Before you get too far into my story, I just want to go on the record and let you know that I love my husband. Jessie is a good father and companion, a skilled lover, and extremely responsible. We’ve been married nearly 10 years, so you would think we know everything we need to about each other, but sometimes I still catch myself looking at him and saying to myself, Who is this man I share a bed with every night? This person who still doesn’t understand how important playing music is to me. It was Saturday and I was packing up the car to leave for an overnight show when Jessie decided it was the opportune time to pick a fight. His level of tolerance for my participation in Code Cherry was at an all-time low, so after I told him the band would be leaving to go on tour, you can imagine what a delight it was to live with him. The way I look at it, as long as I have someone to take care of Valerie and him while I’m gone, he can’t object. And, to be honest, I know he would never tell me I couldn’t go— probably because he
knows I wouldn’t listen to him. I really hoped that he would be happy for me and excited about Code Cherry’s success. Instead, he chose to manifest his displeasure by verbally tormenting me. What he didn’t understand is that every little gibe from him just made me want to jump on that tour bus even more. “So it’s not enough that you’re going to be gone for two months. Now you’re abandoning Val and me again for the whole weekend?” Jessie said. “Abandoning is a little harsh, and don’t act like this weekend is a surprise. I’ve had the Put-in-Bay concert on the calendar for months,” I said as I pulled the string cheese and strawberry juice boxes—Valerie’s favorites—out of the fridge to put into a cooler. “Your sister and your mother spend more time with Val than you and I combined.” “Don’t include me in your mathematical guilt equations. Your work takes you away more than mine, and when I do go, I couldn’t think of anyone better for her to spend time with than my mom and Joan.” “You know Put-in-Bay is just full of a bunch of drunks. You better be careful up there.”
“I can handle myself. And if you’re so concerned, why don’t you come up? When’s the last time you came to see us play? I’m sure I could find us a place to stay.” I said this half serious, knowing he would never come but hoping he would want to hear Code Cherry play. Maybe he would finally be proud of what I do. But I knew better; he just dismissed my request, didn’t even respond to it. “You better not wear that shirt when you play tonight. It makes you look like a loose woman. I don’t want those drunken island men leering at you,” he said, forging on with his verbal attack. “Jenny made me this shirt. I love it and please don’t tell me what to do.” “Oh, believe me, I know I can’t stop you. You just go right ahead, do whatever you damn well please; leave your family and screw up your daughter when you go traipsing around the country, chasing some dream. Sara, you’re thirty-four; it’s time to stop fooling yourself and start acting and dressing like a mother.” His words stung. There are ways to hurt a woman besides a physical blow, and when he wanted to, Jessie knew exactly how to pierce a knife through my heart with a few carefully selected words. The hurt he had inflicted was bubbling up inside of me, making my heart beat faster. I always suspected it but now the message had been made perfectly clear: My
husband didn’t believe in me. He thought I was being foolish. How can someone who loves you not believe in you? I was struggling to fight back my tears when I saw Valerie running down the hall with her miniature pink overnight suitcase. I hoped that Jessie knew that the conversation was over. I would not fight with him in front of our daughter. “Valerie…come on, honey; it’s time to go to Aunt Joanie’s house. Give Daddy a hug and say good-bye before we leave.” I gathered up the rest of Valerie’s bags and the cooler of her favorite foods I had packed up for her and walked to the door. “Thanks for the show of support, Jessie. It means so much to me,” I said bitterly as I walked out the door. I helped Valerie get settled in the backseat and turned on her favorite radio station so I could get a few minutes to calm down. We liked to jam out in the car together. “Hey, Mommy, Aunt Joan said that she would teach me how to play the guitar this summer when I stay with her.” “Really? That is so cool. Maybe someday you can play in Code Cherry with me.” “Yeah, and I’m going to write some songs for you this summer. It’ll help me not miss you so much.” Valerie was not old enough to sit up front with me yet, so it was always hard to have a conversation with her in the car when I couldn’t see her face. I peered into my rearview mirror to see my daughter’s facial expression and noticed that she looked a little anxious.
“Sweetie, don’t worry; we’re going to talk every day and we’ll get on the computer so you can see me and Aunt Joan is going to bring you to a couple of our shows, so you can go on tour with us for a while and you know Daddy will be around on the weekends, so you can go over to see him or stay with him whenever he’s home.” “Okay…but I’m still gonna write songs for you. I want to be a songwriter just like Beth when I grow up.” A big smile washed over my face. “Well, I’m sure Beth will love to hear that. And I approve of your choice for a role model.” “I’m going to ask Aunt Joan if we can start the guitar lessons today.” My daughter was definitely destined to be a rocker chick. She had come to too many of our band rehearsals and watched as Beth composed music. She idolized Beth, Christian, Jenny, and Amanda and talked about them all the time (which makes Jessie crazy). And she was the only kid in kindergarten who wore T-shirts with David Bowie and the Go-Go’s on them. Someday the other kids her age would eventually catch up with her, and when they did I hoped they thought she was cool.
Beth was supposed to meet me at the Jet Express dock at noon, but she was late as usual, so I went ahead and bought my ticket and went up to the top deck. For the first day of May, it was unseasonably warm, and I was loving it. I lifted my head up and felt the sun on my cheeks, and I gazed out at the water. Lake Erie could trick the eye into thinking it was a sea, and I wanted to drown my sorrows in it as I thought about what Jessie had said to me earlier that afternoon. All the Lake Erie boaters had put their boats in early to get a jump start on the summer, and the ferry
boats to Put-In-Bay doubled up their schedule for the weekend to ferry all the drunks over to the island for the May Day parties and events scheduled across the island. We all loved playing Put-InBay (or PIB, as it’s affectionately called), and had amassed quite a following on the island, so the Anchor Inn booked us up at the island several times each summer. Jenny, Christian, and Amanda were so excited, they took over the first boat this morning and said they would get everything set up for us. I needed to shrug off this bad mood and start enjoying the weekend to come. I saw Beth running toward the boat, struggling to carry her overnight bag and a cooler, just as they were blowing the horn. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her all week, so I was looking forward to spending some time alone with her to get caught up. She looked tired and beat up when she walked toward me, and I knew something was wrong. “Are you ready for a drink?” she asked as she opened up the cooler and handed me a Red Stripe. “Is John Mayer a manwhore****? Of course I’m ready for a drink.” “Well, here’s to you, girlfriend. I am definitely ready to let my hair down and enjoy myself this weekend.”
“I’m with you on that, I had a rough week too, but you really look beat up. What the hell happened to you this week?” “Well, for starters, on Sunday I found my mom right after my father told her he was dumping her for another woman, and then I spent the rest of the week interviewing divorce lawyers. One for her, one for me…you know, just a typical week at the office,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “What? Details, I need more details, please. And why didn’t you call me to let me know what was going down?” “I would have called if I had a moment to come up for air, but things got a little crazy.” And Beth proceeded to tell me about how she had found her mom lying in a big pool of tears on Sunday and everything she had been doing to support her mother. I felt like such a piece of crap for not calling Beth all week. I should have been there to support her and help her out. She was always there for me when I was going through a bad time. “I’m sure you must be devastated about your parents. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through this week. But I’m so proud of you for finally having the courage to go through with your own divorce. You know I’ll be here to support you, right?” “I hope so, because it’s going to be hell. I’m going to put Cris through the wringer.” “You know he deserves it, right?”
**** “Yeah, I do.” “Hey, I have something that will cheer you up,” I said. “What’s that? You know a good hit man?” “I wish I did but no. Valerie told me today that she wants to be a songwriter and grow up to be just like you.” “And you’re excited about that?” I reached over and gave my best friend a hug. “Of course I am. I can’t think of a bigger mess than me to be her role model.” We were both enjoying our early-afternoon beer buzz as we started the approach into South Bass Island. It always excited me to get my first glimpse of the harbor**** dotted with hundreds of beautiful boats, the Boardwalk bustling with activity, and the sun sparkling on the water’s surface. All it took was a 12-mile ferry ride across Lake Erie, and I was instantly transported to a vacation paradise on Nantucket Island. I’ve never been to Nantucket, but I was sure it looked just as magical as this. The treelined Di Rivera Park separated the harbor from the main drag of the village of Put-in-Bay, the home to the many island bars and restaurants that had given the island its nickname of “the Key West of Lake Erie.” From the looks of the crowd on the ferry, it was going to be a crazy weekend, as Beth and I spotted four separate groups of bachelor and bachelorette parties and other groups of professional party hounds fully equipped for the May Day festivities. They had all chucked their inhibitions aside and were jockeying to get off the ferry boat first with their coolers of beer and Mardi Gras beads. By the time Beth and I had gotten to the island, the girls had everything set up as promised, and we found them strategically positioned on lounge chairs between the Anchor Inn’s pool and the bar, with a bucket of cold Red Stripes waiting on ice. “Looks like you gals didn’t
Everything You Didn’t Want to Know About Manwhores What is a manwhore? Be sure to read more than one of the multitude of definitions found at the Urban Dictionary. Manwhores— plural; it takes on a whole new definition (I hope you don’t have one of these). Don’t be a manwhorita. How to spot a manwhore.
**** Your Official Put-in-Bay Visitors Guide Pictures of Paradise PIB Party Schedule On the Boardwalk… the best lobster bisque this side of Maine.
waste any time this afternoon. Did we miss anything?” Beth asked. “Just the best thing about spring when you live in Ohio,” Jenny said. “Oh yeah, what’s that?” I asked. “Seeing men take their shirts off for the first time of the year.” “I see what you mean,” I said as I looked around at the abundant displays of flesh and tattoos and settled into my lounge chair. “I could sit here all day and just people watch.” “Hey, make sure you check out the nice package in the yellow speedo, there’s something growing down there and we’ve got bets that he’ll bust out of that banana hammock before the afternoon is through,” Christian informed us. I was just about to flip up the little flag on the back of my lounge chair to indicate that I was in dire need of cocktail service, when a male waiter came walking towards our group. “The guys across the pool over there want to buy Jennifer Aniston and her friends a drink,” he said to me. It wasn’t the first time someone had told me they thought I looked like Jennifer, but it was probably the first time I
got a round of drinks out of it. We all started laughing and looked across the pool to check them out. They looked a little young for me, but I knew the other girls would enjoy meeting them. “We’ll take another bucket of Red Stripes, but tell them we’ll only accept if they come over and drink them with us,” I said. “Sara, that’s one of the things I admire about you. Even though you’re married, you never lost the ability to put on a good flirt,” Amanda said. “It’s a skill you acquire and take with you through life,” I said jokingly. “If they play another Jimmy Buffet song, I think I’m going to barf,” Christian said. “Please don’t barf,” Jenny said. “I want to have fond memories of my last trip to the islands with you girls.” “Not to worry, Jenny; we are going to see you out in style with a major code night. The island is packed for the May Day celebrations, and we are headlining at the Anchor…things are going to get crazy tonight.” “I hope there are some good afterhours parties planned. Did you guys check out the house? I hope they cleaned up the ratty old party barn for us this time,” I said. “Oh, they put us up in a new house this year. The owner told us some heavy metal band that played up here last year got a little rowdy and burned it down. They only put up
**** Code Guide: Code Blue Code Green Code Pink Code Purple code•purple Pronunciation: \'kod \'p r-p l\ e
some of the bands now. Pretty funny that they decided we were tame enough,” Christian said. “It’s a major party palace too, with three private bedrooms and a huge living room perfect for all-night dance parties,” Jenny said. “Jenny and I already staked claim to one of the ‘score’ rooms. We’re going after some Code Cherry action tonight,” Amanda said. “And I want the rest of you married girls to join in the fun with some Code Purple**** action tonight,” Jenny said. “I never get any Code Purple action. Anytime I get the slightest bit of temptation, that Journey song ‘Faithfully’ starts playing in my head, and I come to my senses,” I said. “I hate to disappoint you, Jenny, but I’m going to pass on the code purple action tonight. I don’t have the energy for it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be any fun,” Beth said. “Christian, you’re practically married to Peter; you can pick up the action for me. I want to see you out there dirty dancing with some boys tonight.” “Hey, just as long as what happens in Put-inBay stays on Put-in-Bay, I’m in,” Christian said. The pool boys started to head our way with the bucket of Red Stripe. “Oh, I already can’t wait to hear about the code violations tomorrow morning. I’m predicting we will be dragging our hungover asses and laughing all the way home tomorrow,” I said. The codes originated back in high school, when Beth and a group of girls in our circle started sneaking out to the college bars in Akron and Kent, equipped with our fake IDs and a thirst for beer and older men. We were done with high school boys and rules, and as we explored those smoky bars, the codes became our navigational tools for assisting each other in the fine art of partying and flirting. I used to have a lot of fun back in the day with the Code Reds (see Episode 2 for definition),
Function: noun, adjective Inflected Form(s): code pur•plest Date: 2000 Etymology: Originating from Jenny, Amanda, and Christian, part of a complex system of signals or symbols used to represent assigned and often secret meanings for the married women in Code Cherry. 1:
a: a married girlfriend or one who is engaged or in a serious relationship and is either flirting excessively with another man or being pursued excessively by a man other than her husband b: an obviously married man that is either flirting excessively or pursuing a woman other than his wife
2: for the affected woman in 1 a and b,
an act of kindness by your friends to intervene in something that, although enjoyable, you most likely will regret the next day 3: at times, a major buzzkill 4: can serve as an aphrodisiac for
increasing the libido of a married woman when she returns home to her husband Code Red Code Yellow
but now the only code reserved for a married woman like me was a Code Purple. Christian, Jenny, and Amanda thought they were real cute when they came up with the Code Purple. It originated one night when Beth got really flirty with a guy and actually started making out with him on the dance floor after a show. None of us really blamed her since her marriage to Cris had been on the rocks for so long, but Christian intervened and pulled the two apart, and that’s when the single girls decided we married girls needed a code to keep us in line.
night was scoping out the audience during the show for the guys who were checking us out and also to pick out guys we wanted to flirt with during the breaks. The Anchor Inn had a dressing room we could utilize during the breaks, but, typically, we hung out at the bar to drink and meet our public. Tonight was definitely shaping up to be an interesting night. Amanda and Jenny had already begun seriously flirting with a couple guys each at the bar. Christian was not on the prowl tonight since she was madly in love with Peter, but that did not keep her from hanging around the group of men Amanda and Jenny had amassed, and she was helping them to recruit men to party with after the show. Beth was sitting at the bar alone, nursing a vodka tonic, and I knew she was still thinking about her mom. I had just met up with one of the island residents that Beth and I had befriended over the years to get the lowdown on the after-hours parties and was walking up to the bar to hang out with Beth when Freddie reached around my waist and twirled me around to face him. “Hey, Sara, great set. You’re looking beautiful tonight,” Freddie said. “Freddie, what are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming up,” I said, totally surprised to see him. “A buddy of mine decided to put his boat in today, and I just felt spontaneous and couldn’t resist coming up and soaking up this warm weather. Wasn’t it great today?” “Yeah, we got up here early and spent the afternoon at the pool. It was a
The crowd at the Anchor Inn grew larger and more raucous (my nice way of saying drunk) as the evening transpired. Code Cherry had already played two sets, and the crowd was showing their love for the band by overflowing the dance floor. Part of the fun of a code
blast hanging out with the girls today.” “Those shoes are amazing.” “Freddie you are such a sweetheart, you always notice my shoes.” “Well, you know I always had a thing for your feet.” “Yeah, I remember that little fetish of yours. Are you staying tonight? I’m pulling together the list of parties we can crash.” “If you don’t mind me tagging along, that would be great. My buddy already left, so I’m staying ’til tomorrow and taking the ferry home. I don’t have a place to crash, though. Do you think I could stay at the house with you girls?” “Freddie, that’s the least we could do for you. But you have to promise to behave yourself, and remember what happens in PIB stays in PIB.” “I’m not promising anything about behaving myself, but you know me. I’m a bar owner; I always keep my mouth shut!” “Well, it’s a deal then. I’ll make sure we leave a couch open for you.” “Sara, you are the best. You know Jessie doesn’t deserve you.” “Tell me about it. We had a little fight today. He’s pretty upset about me leaving to go on tour.” “He’ll get over it if he has any sense. Doesn’t he understand what a big deal this is for you and for Code Cherry?” “Apparently not. Thinks I should give up on this silly dream of mine.” “He said that?” Freddie asked, with a face that showed equal parts concern and surprise. I paused and the look on his face clued me in that I shouldn’t be sharing this kind of information with him. “I’m sorry to air my dirty laundry with you, Freddie. Everything will be fine. We’ll sort it out.” As I started to walk away, Freddie grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug. He must have known how Jessie had made
and I apparently had not lost our spark, and up until that night, I thought I was done playing with fire.
It was 5 a.m. and, for some insane reason, I was still awake and walking to the beach with Freddie to take in the sunrise. We had been up all night, hitting the parties, drinking, dancing, and talking, and neither one of us wanted to go back to the house. I think we were both afraid of what might happen if we did. We hadn’t been alone like this since I left for college, and I didn’t know if he felt this way, but I had always wanted some closure on our failed relationship. It all went back to those high school days, when Beth and I were sneaking into bars, and we started following this local band called Intensity. We started hanging out with them and eventually became groupies. There was something about the bass player, Freddie; he was older and definitely a bad boy and it didn’t take much effort to work my way into his bed and eventually his heart. We began an insatiable love affair, having sex whenever and wherever we could, and as difficult as it was for a high school girl still living at home, I spent as much time with him as humanly possible. “It’s nice to be alone with you, waiting
me feel, and he leaned in to whisper, “I believe in you,” into my ear. The touch of his body against mine and his breath so close to my ear sent a tingling sensation through to my core. “Thanks, Freddie. I’ve got to go and get ready for the next set.” I was flustered and a little shaken by his embrace, but still wanted him to know how much I appreciated the affirmation I so badly needed. “I couldn’t let you leave without making you smile.” He looked adorable standing there with his squinty blue eyes smiling back at me, wearing shorts and a fitted V-neck Tshirt that showed off just enough of his chest and his body that had been kissed by the sun that afternoon. Freddie
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for the sun to come up,” Freddie said. “Yeah, I forgot how much I missed you. We had so much fun together before we had to grow up and become adults.” “Uh, I was an adult when I met you. You were the kid. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were only seventeen. You could have got me in a lot of trouble, girl.” “Yeah, but you loved every minute of it.” “I did love you, Sara. I still do. I regret pushing you away to this very day.” Now that, I thought, was a declaration every jilted lover would love to hear from her ex-boyfriend. “But you kept telling me that if I wanted to leave, I should go, and I thought that was just your way of blowing me off.” “You were just a baby. And when I found out how old you really were, I wanted to make sure you didn’t blow it and miss out on college.” “You know I pined for you all through college. Holding out hope that we’d be together forever, and then you went off and married that slut.” “You’re right, she was a slut. I’m glad I dumped her ass right away.” “You know, I really shouldn’t like you at all. Not only did you steal my virginity, you broke my heart.” Freddie got a really surprised look on his face. “I had no idea I was your first. You sure acted like you knew what you were doing. Was it good for you, I mean, the first time? I would have been different if I’d known.” “Yeah, you pretty much wrecked me for life. That’s why I ran off and married Jessie. He was my rebounder****. The polar opposite of you. I figured I’d had enough of the bad boys. Time to settle down with someone stable. Hell, he was building a house when we first started dating.” “You don’t have to rub salt in my wounds. I know I fucked up.” “You didn’t fuck up; you got to be famous, made a lot of money, bedded a lot of women. I’m sure you don’t have any regrets.” “And you got to have the great marriage, the great
**** Rebounds Aren’t Just For Basketball “The Eight Rules of Rebounding.” The ultimate rebound relationship song. Do rebound relationships last? Everything you need to know about rebound relationships.
house, and a beautiful daughter.” “You know, I thought that house was such a big deal at the time. Now I hate it. I hate the suburbs and all those snooty soccer moms.” “But you’re happy…you and Jessie, right?” There was a pregnant pause, but I finally answered yes. “That didn’t sound too convincing.” “Yeah, crazy as it seems, we really are happy…he just really pisses me off sometimes,” I said and started to rub my arms to keep warm. Freddie moved closer and put his arm around me to keep me warm, and I didn’t stop him. I loved the way he could still make me feel so alive and arouse all my sexual desire just by touching me, and I wondered how and when that sensation had slowly died with Jessie. We sat together in silence, watching the sun slowly rise out of the horizon, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted Freddie to kiss me. I knew he wouldn’t try anything, and I think it was a combination of liquid courage and pent-up anger at Jessie that propelled my lips onto Freddie’s (at least that’s my story). The sensation of our lips touching rushed through my body, sending a wave of heat and desire to all the right places, and, for a few minutes, I completely lost myself.
Eventually (without the assistance of a Code Purple), I came back to reality, and I knew one of us would have to pull away from the kiss, and, damn it, I knew it would have to be me, so I slowly struggled to tear myself away from our embrace. I looked at Freddie and he was smiling at me again. “Don’t get too excited, buddy; that kiss was an overdue thank-you.” “For what?” “For teaching me how to play the bass. I’ll always owe you for teaching me that summer.” I got up quickly, brushed the sand off my butt, and reached my hand out to Freddie. “Come on, let’s get back to the house. I can’t wait to hear what trouble the girls got themselves into last night.” “You did a pretty good job of that yourself,” Freddie said as he pulled me back into his lap and started kissing me, and I didn’t stop him again.
“Well…look what the cat dragged in. You look like you’re in a 12
purple haze****,” Beth said. She was the only one up yet and was sitting in the living room among a slew of beer cans, a yellow Speedo hanging from a lampshade, and what appeared to be the remnants of a really good party. “Don’t jump to any conclusions. Freddie and I just hung out all night at the parties and talked,” I said, hoping my lie would not be obvious. “Yeah, well, then why are you blushing? Come on, Sara, I can tell when you’re lying. You’ve been drinking the purple Kool-Aid, haven’t you?” Beth asked. “I think it would be more fun to hear about what you did. Where is everyone?” “Jenny’s upstairs, as predicted, with a Code Cherry. I don’t think she’ll be coming up for air anytime soon. At least I wouldn’t. Amanda is taking a couple guys we partied with back to the ferry dock on a golf cart so they don’t miss their boat. And Christian just went upstairs a few minutes ago to get some shut-eye.” “I think you’re holding out on me again; I need more details.” “Not so fast, missy. It’s been years since you disappeared all night with a boy. I think you need to tell me all about what went down last night.” Freddie and I had both decided that it would be better if he didn’t come in with me, and we had said our good-byes at the corner just a few minutes ago, before he headed off to the ferry docks. The island was small and I knew Amanda would bump into him, so I might as well spill the beans. My body was still tingling, and I was glad for a few minutes of quiet with Beth. She would listen to me and not judge and talk me down from all this nonsense swirling around in my head. I didn’t know if it was because kissing Freddie was forbidden or if I still hadn’t gotten over all my pent-up teenage passion for him, but I was under a spell, and I knew those kisses were going to mess with my mind for quite a while. 7
**** For Your Listening Pleasure Purple Haze
“Bring Me To Life “ Aren’t you dying to hear “Pick Me”?! Code Cherry’s music deserves to be heard, and you can make it happen! Help bring the music to life by making a donation to the Code Cherry Recording Fund. Every cent of the donations will go straight to the kitty to pay the musicians and recording studio in order to bring the downloadable song links right here to No Songs for Men.
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“Rockin’ in the Free World” We hope you enjoyed reading this episode of No Songs for Men! We plan to keep them coming every few weeks, jammed full of Code Cherry escapades and a few little fun extras for your reading enjoyment. Help us Rock On! by making a donation—and don’t worry, no amount is too small. Every dollar sent goes to pay for production and maybe a cup of organic tea for the production team.
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Maria Santoferraro was born and raised in Northeast, Ohio. After graduating from Marietta College with a degree in advertising, and her entrepreneurial debut of CareerGear, she went on to pursue a glamorous career in the field of advertising, managing major soft drink, condom, fast food and diaper brands until she decided to shuck it all and create No Songs For Men. She loves living in Ohio with her husband, but is working out a plan to split her time and work and play remotely from either a tropical island, a ski slope, Paris or wherever they want. Hey, a girl can dream! This is her first web series. Visit the author’s website at: www.mariamedia.net Book design by JAS Graphics jasgraphics.biz Character illustrations by Renee Lethbridge Design Services www.reneelethbridge.com Published by MariaMedia, LLC Copyright © 2010 by Maria Santoferraro Live, Laugh, Rock and Return to MariaMedia
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Published on Jul 23, 2010
Published on Jul 23, 2010
The Code Cherry girls are back and appearing live this weekend at the Anchor Inn on Put-In-Bay! We're deep into summer and if you're hanker...