Well slap my ass and call it molasses!

That was the last thing my newest friend Edward said before he stepped off the sidewalk. It was one of those sayings that was supposed to gently roll off the mouth of a born-in-the-roux black great aunti. But it came out of Edward’s amazing Welsh good looks and Gomer Pyle disposition.

I need some colored greens! Southern cookin makes me good lookin!

Edward was caught between two worlds. His parents were despised white trash; they sold drugs to their local neighbors’ children. Edward was born high but never cried, most of the neighbors didn’t even know there was a child in the shack.

H E double L, it’s colder than a well diggers ass out here, let’s get some grub!

He was adopted by a Great Black Aunt. She found him naked and wandering the bayous too many times and simply stole him off a dirt road. His parents never looked for him, thank Chuku.

Edward reaches for my hand, Come awn, shake a leg! and pulls me off into the busy city, his idea of heaven.