I heard Tom Waits in this kinky shop on Belmont Street in Chicago. Considering the way I was raised, they were such obscure voices, but their music saved my life - I didn't know who I was before I heard Bob Dylan and Tom Waits.
Is O used by René and Sir Stephen, or does she in fact use them, and...all those irons and chains and obligatory debauchery, to fulfill her own dream-that is, her own destruction and death? And, in some surreptitious way, isn't she in charge of them? Doesn't she bend them to her will?
Debauchery conceived of as a kind of ascetic experience is not new, either for men or for women, but until Story of O no woman to my knowledge had said it.
By my makeup and temperament I wasn't really prey to physical desires. Everything happened in my head.
In this country, some aristocratic families automatically categorize persons with dark skin, thick lips, and kinky hair as "Barias" [Amharic for slave]... let it be clear to everybody that I shall soon make these ignoramuses stoop and grind corn!
All the black leather she needs is the E-Z boy recliner where her love is parked with one of his hands wrapped around a remote, the other, a bottle of beer. She's right. It's kinky. The way he doesn't look away from the TV, as her head bobs in his lap like a fisherman's float on a nature program, hectic with the pace his breath sets. His crotch swells under her mouth's prowess. He's such a sweetheart he waits until the commercials to come.
I don't drink. Never taken a drug in my life ever. In fact from a newspaper point of view I'm very boring. I don't do anything. I don't drink no booze, no drugs, no kinky carryings on, don't go to brothels.
black isn't beautiful and it isn't ugly - black is! It's not kinky hair and it's not straight hair - it just is.
I adore my black skin and my kinky hair. The Negro hair is more educated than the white man's hair. Because with Negro hair, where you put it, it stays. It's obedient. The hair of the white, just give one quick movement, and it's out of place. It won't obey. If reincarnation exists I want to come back black.
I found that stiffly saluting member, of which he was so proud, rather frightening, and to tell the truth I found his pride slightly comical. I thought that that must be embarrassing for him, and thought how much more pleasant it was to be a girl. That, by the way, is an opinion I still hold today.
It is not my mode of thought that has caused my misfortunes, but the mode of thought of others.
The imagination is the spur of delights... all depends upon it, it is the mainspring of everything; now, is it not by means of the imagination one knows joy? Is it not of the imagination that the sharpest pleasures arise?
No black man wants a blue-eyed black child, and no white man wants a kinky-haired white child. Nature didn't mean it to be that way.
I'm sure no intelligent white person, in his or her right white mind, want black men and women marrying their white sons and daughters and in return introducing their grandchildren to half brown, kinky haired black people.
Aren't all ballets sexy? I think they should be. I can think of nothing more kinky than a prince chasing a swan around all night.
Black women have kinky hair, and we think we have limitations on what we can do. It's interesting that people think, 'Oh this is the only thing they can do.' But if you have blonde, straight hair and don't change it for 20 years - nobody thinks about it. Nobody says anything!
The most fun thing ever is having sex in a really naughty place or something. That would be pretty fun. The location usually makes it quite kinky in itself.
The people of America are red, white, black, yellow, and all the shades in between. Their eyes are blue, black, and brown, and all the shades in between. Their hair is straight, curly, kinky, and most of it in between. They are tall and short, slim and fat, athletic and anaemic, and most of them in between. They are the different peoples of the world becoming more and more the "in between." They are a people creating a new bridge of mankind in between the past of narrow nationalistic chauvinism and the horizon of a new mankind--a people of the world. Their face is the face of the future.
Are vampires kinky? I didn't know.
That’s hard core, Gin,” Finn replied. “Very hard core. Kind of kinky too.” A grim smile tightened my lips. “That’s me. Gin Blanco. Hard core and kinky to the bitter end.
What do you know? She liked to be told she was scary. Kinky.
We could get kinky and see how bats and rats make love, he suggested in a whisper, warm breath against her neck. You are a sick man, Jacques. Very, very sick.
I don’t know how you do it. You aren’t even blond. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly you’re a brunette. I just don’t see guys going for that.” “Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess.
I called it Kinko’s because of my nickname — because I had this really kinky hair. If you think about it, the first thing a baby learns is ‘Googoo, gaga,’ and if you think of good businesses like Kodak, Xerox, Google, people remember consonants — which was why Kinko’s was a good name. But really I had this big head of curly hair and before being called ‘Kinko’ I was ‘Pube Head.’ So I thought Kinko’s was better than Pubo’s.
O was infinitely more moving when her body was covered with marks, of whatever kind, if only because these marks made it impossible for her to cheat and immediately proclaimed, the moment they were seen, that anything went as far as she was concerned. For to know this was one thing, but to see the proof of it, and to see the proof constantly renewed, was quite another.
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