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Black Syren

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  1. B)B) And I was trying to hide. Ok Maybe I will submit my pic. Unfortunately I need help getting the image to fir the requirements and my art programs are not downloaded. Can anyone assist me?

    These are the measurements again for the submission for the magazine.

    Remember, the photos have to be either taken by you (with model's permission for publication) or of you. They have to either be printed photos or digital photos (300dpi 5x7).

    PS And I suppose I would do the calendar as well...

  2. Mole sauce?

    It isn't made from Moles.

    Mole or mole sauce is a dark brown Mexican sauce or gravy made from dry chiles, nuts, spices, vegetables, chocolate and seasonings. It takes a great deal of time to prepare and is served as chicken mole, in beef or pork for special occasions and holidays in Mexico. Mole Poblano, Mole verde, Pipian and Adobo are some other variations of mole.

    Choclate? Bring it on.. B)

  3. ;) Siren an Blackfoot!! In th flesh! Whar ye been? Singapore? Th spice islands? I was beginnin t' wonder if ye been in irons sommeres!

    Bring yer scurrilous selves o'er here an have one r two on me pocket! ;)

    I have been aboard the WatchDog attending me duties. Or tryin to..As for bein swept away or locked in irons...well that be a story for a diffrent time.. ;);)

  4. Siren carefully kept watch on her wine intake not wishing to go to duty drunk and make a fool of herself. But she was enjoying herself and immensely, perhaps this had been needed after the sea battle, a way to have a little peace for the battle would never be forgotten, by any.

    Tempest was silent for the most part interjecting thoughts and comments here and there, Tudor a perfect hostess made sure the conversation was spirited and flowing. Siren hid a smile at Murin’s words then boldly laughed aloud and stood “Aye to our Captain! And to the Dog!” She raised her glass high then looked about the room and as the laughter settled she arched a dark brow, eyes dancing with mischief.

    “What do ye think the lads be doin? Dreamin about the lasses on the isle, or about the rum?” She queried, voice filled with laughter as she waggled her brows to the women gathered.

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