Victoria Maria Harris Edwards,

A real-life femme fatale I’ve always kept miles of highway, city traffic and mutual acquaintances as low as one person a year.

 She recently has divorced her fourth husband, which means she is single and fair game. This of course does not mean she will ever play the game of Nut Bush fair.

 Nutbush City Limits

Ike & Tina Turner

A church house, gin house
A school house, outhouse
On highway number nineteen
The people keep the city clean
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

Twenty-five was the speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go t'the store on Fridays
You go to church on Sundays
They call it Nutbush, been a long time, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
You go to the fields on week days
And have a picnic on Labor Day
You go to town on Saturday
But go to church every Sunday
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
No whiskey for sale
You get caught, no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is…

Twenty-five was the speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go t'the store on Fridays
You go to church on Sundays
They call it Nutbush, been a long time, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
You go to the fields on week days
And have a picnic on Labor Day
You go to town on Saturday
But go to church every Sunday
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
No whiskey for sale
You get caught, no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is all you get in jail
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
Yeah they call it Nutbush city
Nutbush city limits

A little old town in Tennessee, it's called
Quiet little old community, a one-horse town
You have to watch what you're puttin' down
In old Nutbush, they call it Nutbush

Some time last year I told you how we met and parted on as good of terms anyone is allowed to separate from her. Due to the fact that I’ve never been inside of her, I’ve never had to face the venom that comes with her scorn. She phoned me from jail a few days ago, insisting I make sure her mother has her daughter and collects the $200.00 need to aid in her release.

 She did not even spend a weekend in jail after being charged with an assault against her husband that has led him to filing papers. She might have retained her marriage if she waited to get home to beat him.

One day I’ll ask her if she had to do it in the nail salon?

I always did want a woman who was willing to stand toe to toe with me, but I don’t think any man should tolerate a woman who beats him in the face, just because he say’s “No,” to her paying for the most expensive manicure they have to offer.

Anyway, I am browsing through my collections of images of her and still I get a hard on thinking about her. I want to tell her and all, but I don’t want to deal with the drama that comes with it. She is the kind of person that if she lets you fuck one time, you are better off marrying her because at least you can hold onto the idea of maintaining control of her volatility and can fuck her to sleep if she gets to throwing a temper tantrum.

 Don’t get caught with another woman and let her find out. The woman will end up in stiches and you’ll come home to a knife, slicing, paper cut thin marks along the edge of your dick while she seduces you with her curvaceous mouth.

You know we where the best of friends when we were young and if I was to write her now, you’d think just a letter or a card that said, “Your missed and loved.” Just a platonic smile and hug~ Just a look of appreciation, things that make out hearts full and want to be around people.

Something on her birthday- to let her know I remember and think of her. I do miss her. A lot of the time. But I know if I write her, she will tell her mother, who would tell her aunt, and cousins, sigh~ and everyone will know that I wrote her and that would be kin to fucking her in the minds of those that know how much she loved me when we young.

Oh, how I loved her.