Nothing turns my man on like the frills on my bonnet.
I sit at home on a surprisingly warm November evening. The year is 1765, and it has been the year of my flourishing. All my life, I have been a woman of desires. I have yearned for something but never attained it; sought something but never found it; desired something but never had the pleasure of fulfillment. It has been in 1765 when it all changed.
Sherman Ave 