Hi, Yal. This be Ol’ Wanda Lust, Crack Ho’ and I’m reportin’ in. I guess I be too old for trickin’ no mo’. Fifty don’ come on little cat feet like the poet say. It come like a sack of bricks. And it be time fo’ me to come off the crack, too. Ol’ Fat Harold, my man, sure gone be pleased. He done accept me as I were all these years and I done the same fo’ him. He want the best fo’ me and I guess we’ll git hitched like he always want. I’ll be Miz Harol UpinBottom.

The youguns’ be callin’ me “Grandma” and that do hurt me somewhat. But the old regulars, they still be comin’ around. Once a man git aholt of Ol’ Wanda he don’ want to let go. Ol’ Fat Harold be pleased as punch. My body still be pretty but my face got laugh line wrinkles and it look like a cracked mirror. But I gots beauty inside and it free fo’ anyone to take. When I gits straight wid’ my drug situation, I gone through a big party fo’ my johns and introduce them to some fresh meat, gals in “The Life” I aint leave them high and dry. Dang I done made a joke.

I ‘spec I’ll be a drug and alcohol counselor and lead my people to the “Promised Land.” I be jes’ like Moses or the fuckin’ Pied Piper. The Lord done call his wanderin’ gal home, Yal. I know the reason fo’ it, sadness and thnikin’ ya caint’ bear this world straight. Bad home life and bad teachin”. But Life be large. Life be Lush. That’s what I gots to teach ‘em. Come unto me Ye of little faith: this what Jesus say and I sez it too.

Crack gone be hard to kick, Yal. I be seein’ the Easter Bunny goin’ hippity hop and Santy Claus in his drawers and I knows they aint really there. I feels like I got a damn knife scrapin’ on my nerves and I be throwin’ up and sweatin’ like a man on the chain gang. I gone kick this shit even if I have to go crazy. Ol’ Fat Harold he done take care of his woman. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, the trouble I seen. See Ya when I comes into my own. Bye, Yal. I shall asbide.

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