Halice. That's funny name for a frontier boy, 'specialy since I don't no nuttin- 'least that's what they been tellin' me 'roun these parts. I'm a queer one, they's been saying. Well, I'm here to set that rec'rd straight as a sunbeam.
I ain't not queer!
I got me momma's big brown eyes, and her feet too- real small an' tiny like they are-, but the rest 'a me's me all th' way. Except for mah hair, that's mah poppa's. I don't like mah Poppa's hair on account of it bein' so darn curly and cute and all. Fact once, it lost me a job just outsida Winsal (that's the town I lives in's nayme). Wildcat Billeh went on and gave the job to that cow- kisser Jim, and he can't do nuttin right, 'cause he thought I was some kinda... girl in disguise or somet'in? I donno.
Aaanyway, back to how normal I been lookin. I got a whole mountin range of pimples on my right cheek, but not a spot anywhere else. Momma used to say tha' I been too darn stubborn in scratchin em there, an' now they ain't never gonna leave, but I don't give a mite about mah looks. 'Specialy since I got mah girl all lined up alredhee, but that's another story fo another campfire. I aint tall an' I aint short, neither, but I'm skinny as a stick. This don't do my immense strenth just'ce, however- nah, just kiddin with ya. I guess I'm about avrage in that catagory, too.
Mah strenth an' build about just equal mah colexion? Compelx'n? Ahh, mah skin cola, whatevah that word is, is pretty tan but not too much if ya no what I mean. I'm just average in evr'y respect poss'ble.
So why do I get called "queer", y'all might be asking? Well, It might be havin' som'in to do with me bein' a friend of a great ol' boy named Geronimo.