“Hi, Y’all, this be Ol’ Wanda Lust, Crack Ho’. I aint seen my girls, Auntie Carol, Lady Lynda, & the Black Orchid in some time. We gots to have a git together for summer Soltice.. I know we gone have a Pajama Party and between me and the Black Orchid, we gone gross Auntie and Lynda out. Them two, probably come in long flannel nighties. While me in the Orchid Gone come in crotchless painties and push up bras wid’ tassels on ‘em. Only the Orchid is mo’ Victoria Secret and I be straight up Fredericks of Hollywood. You know painties with “eat me” on the crotch. I think it kinda funny. Them gals is both kinda’ kinky but get them out of the bedroom and they is straight up fifties. No sex befo’ the weddin’ day, no drinkin’ and smokin’ and they wear them white prissy gloves all the time and little straw hats. I tell ya they is in a time warp. They gone request wine spritzers, I Jes’. know it. And only have one.
I loves the shit outa’ my Girls., And The Black Orchid is the closet thing to a Goddess I know. It done make no difference she aint got no tits, she sexy like hell fire. Speakin’ of sexy, I aint no slouch in that department. I got o n my silver halter top and a stone in my belly button, a real emerald, black leather micro mini, red fish net hose and thigh high boot s like a fuckin’ pirate. People tell me in the right light I looks like Dianna Ross. True Dat!
“I got dreams like hellfire. I got dreams to make a man cry. No meek, sweet lil’ dishrag and sop up yo’ mess, me. Mens gste to thinkin’ a woman ought to treat a man like a lil’ chile.’ Give him the sugar tit all the time. I gives Ol’ Fat Harold my bitterness and fire to cause him to make hisself a success, He write like a damn angel, poems so sweet and poignant. I sez to him you retired but you talented. So I sez I gone kick his ass less he write a poem a day and boy does I give him hell.
“Discipline is life. Ya gots to be disciplined to keep the body healthy and the mind strong.I know people think Ho’s be ashamed of theyselves. But I AM AN ARTISTE in readin ’what a man want even be fo’ he know hisself. Sometimes I be his mother and other times I be the Bitch from Hell who never git’ enuff, I usually know what he need befo’ he know hisself.
“Lord, Lord. Today after I got offa’ work, Fat Harold came in wid’ three poems he done do that day and they was so beautiful I bawled my eyes out. They be kinda’ dark and beautiful. Noir he call it. What he write he never show in life. He sweet jes/ like peach cobbler I loves a sweet man And I thank God I got him. He don’ mind that I likes my independence and won’t let thim support me I be forty next month and know I got to git off the street. Maybe I be a Madame in a Ho’ house or like the girl’s suggest, a drug and alcohol counselor. I’d have to kick my coke habbit. No way it gone be easy. No way. Sho’, I aint proud of it and know I gotta’ quit But not jes’ yet, Not jes.yet….Bye, Y’all, Stay tune to the Wanda show, Ya heah?.