As a random note I wish
I were southern, then I could get away with things like calling everyone
"suga," And when I found a husband calling him "big daddy."
He'd have to be really tall and southern too. And I'd have to bat my
eyelashes and make a little pouty face and say it in a singsong, begging tone
every time I said it. Like New Orleans brothel girls calling their pimp
big daddy.
He'd be a big tall
chubby middle aged white man in a tweed suit, and a misshapen fedora, salt and
pepper hair with a deep widows peak, a thick five o'clock shadow and
chews on a cigar but never lights it.
He deals
moonshine. Deep dark eyes, straight white teeth, he never wears a tie, and
never buttons his top button. His voice is soo deep it sounds like it's
echoing in a canyon with every syllable he utters, but he’s a man of few words,
and people know that when he does speak he has something worth listening to
say.
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