I'm happily married, and only on this site to stay in contact with a few long time friends and sometimes chit chat with random people. If you can't have a conversation with me without being crude or remembering that I'm not looking to fuck around, please look for someone else to entertain you. I do NOT think smoking is cool, or sexy. If your default picture is of you blowing smoke at the camera, don't bother. I most likely won't talk to you. Lastly: if you are foolish enough to parade pagan symbols on your profile, know what they mean. If you are foolish enough to post images of Baphomet all over your page stay away from me. I have no time for you. Blessed Be.


I like talking to people who live in totally different walks of life from me - which shouldn't be hard since I'm a boring housewife, mom and sometimes work as a nanny. I seriously dig tattoos, piercings, rockers, AND totally straight edge businessmen. I like to corrupt people or make them think. If you're down with that feel free to talk to me.

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Food for Thought



When You are Old


when you are old and grey and full of sleep,

and nodding by the fire, take down this book,

and slowly read, and dream of the soft look

your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;


how many loved your moments of glad grace,

and loved your beauty with love false or true,

but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

and loved the sorrows of your changing face;


and bending down beside the glowing bars,

murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

and paced upon the mountains overhead

and hid his face amid a crowd of stars.


W.B. Yeats, between 1888 and 1901



An exerpt from "Ickle me, Pickle me, Tickle me too"


...to bed to bed, said sleepy head

let's stay a while said slow.

put on the pan said greedy dan,

'we'll sup before we go.'

~Shel Silverstein


LETHE


Sullen, lazy beast! creep close

until you lie upon my heart

i want to fill my trembling hands

with your impenetrable mane,


to soothe my headache in the reek

of you that permeates your skirts

and relish, like decaying flowers,

the redolence of my late love.


In drowsiness sweet as death itself

let my insistent kisses cloud

the gleaming copper of your skin.

i want to sleep - not live, but sleep!


For nothing silences my sobs

like the abyss that is your bed:

oblivion occupies your mouth

and Lethe runs between your lips...


My destiny is my desire

which i obey as if foredoomed:

innocent martyr, eager prey

whose fervor hones his agony;


hemlock is sweet, nepenthe kind -

I'll suck enough to drown my spite

at those entrancing pointed breasts

which never have confined a heart.

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