At 08:50 PM 7/7/98 +0000, you wrote: >Dear Belle, > >I couldn't help but read what you told Dede. You know that I'm not the >kind of woman to put my nose into anybody's business but my own, but this >is one of those exception that proves the rule. > >Belle, you think twice before you go defiling your body with needles and >paint. You may be in a low place right now, but you is a LADY, Belle, and >while a lady can wear all the paint she wants, it had best be the kind >that washes off with some good pine tar soap. Your mama would roll over in >her grave is she knew what you is contemplating. And you know that >Preacher would be real disappointed. > >Think on it, Belle. I know you will Do the Right Thing. Or else. >Aunt Edna > goshamighty, Edna. Wisht I'd had your letter a few hours ago. Girls here got me down an' gave me a tattoo. Hurt worse'n that time I fell into the blackberry brambles, it did. They got all through and let me up, an' let me look in the mirror. Well, THEY say it's a eagle, but it looks like that skinny ol' rooster Grandpa sawed the spurs off of. What kind o' eagle has a comb, anyway? An' beside it, it says "Forever Yorus" Now I cain't figger out what's a "yorus." You got any ideas? I'm gettin' tired o' this ol' jail. Girls here turn mean at the drop of a hat. One o'them took her tin cup and rattled it on the bars til my head like to split. I think I want to go home. I'll just tell the next man who unlocks the door that I think I'll go home now. Belle