Mahalalel described as six feet 11 inches tall. He has black hair that is not quite shoulder length, and that is slightly curly, which sometimes appears like velvet under certain lighting. His eyes are violet, but they absorb the colors of blue or violet easily from surfaces around them. He has a short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well shaped. His mouth can look very mean, or extremely generous. But it always looks sensual. He has a continuously animated face. Mahalalel's fingernails look like they are made of glass.

i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too

open my heart
open my mouth up and here you are
under my wings
up in an attic that's all the way dark

the actual sound
and then this dirty ring
close your eyes and you don't hear a thing
if you cover my mouth i will cover your mouth
close your eyes and we'll cover our mouths

i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
http://www.free-lyrics.org/12216-Howlin-Maggie.html

when you needed someone
i didn't ask questions
but it ain't gonna be here to leave
when it's all done

wet little fingers
wet little eyes in love with everything
don't look so sad now
none of that baby love is wasted on me

you blushed real little innocent thing
talk so fine you really should sing
when you turn your hokey pokey doll act for me
if it don't hit your head then your heart don't agree

i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too

i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too

i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too
i'm a slut
that's why you love me
that's why you hate me too

Clive Cussler, Anne Rice, Karma Sutra

( View All My Groups )

I was lucky enough to find my angel, my special girl and as luck would have it she is here with me. Thank you for finding me casi.

We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words.

If you want to read my mad ravings look for me please do.
http://theatricalincorrigible.blogspot.com/


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