Here is a list of Women Blogs. A Blog is a journal you may enter about your life, thoughts, interesting experiences, or lessons you've learned. Post an opinion, impart words of wisdom, or talk about something interesting in your day. Update your blog on a regular basis, or just whenever you have something to say. Creating a blog is a good way to share something of yourself with others. Reading blogs is a good way to learn more about others. Click here to post a blog.
Qarai a Wonderful women 28 Years old Bown Hair
Dear Qarai 28 Year old Cape town Cape town
The 28 Year old Wonderful Beautiful women
I Like to get to Know you wow I Love your Profile and I want to say Hello I sent you Messages and Flower Gift and I think you are the Most amazing women
You are a Angel women xoxo David
The 28 Year old Wonderful Beautiful women
I Like to get to Know you wow I Love your Profile and I want to say Hello I sent you Messages and Flower Gift and I think you are the Most amazing women
You are a Angel women xoxo David
Strangs Replys from Women
Like when im saying to any women you are so beauty .. she will reply thanks .. but if i said you are so hot or sexy .. she want to slap me or says you are bad/dirty mind guy ... but if a women said that its ok .. the other women will accept it and says thanks you too .
so what is the different here ??!! like to know ?!
so what is the different here ??!! like to know ?!
Heyyyyyyy people
So h*rny right now looking for a sexxy special lady...in bed alone right now my life story!!!
reaction ?
when you mind full loaded for sex , what was your reaction ? cool reply ..................
Poem (you don't wana paly me?)
when a dying hope surds and its pain life heards.
then life sings a songs that has no words
but the twings in song, it death like long
who i am? yes i am , that outraged song.
you don't wana play me?
with flute of griefs , on the true of gloom
life sang me loud, in dead dark room
till the rest was held , for the rest of days
till the face of night , had a blood-red glaze
]
till the end each bite, of the fate was sting
till the hopeless hope, wore the robe of wing
now the hope is dead and the life starts mourn
why are you still quite? break the silence , you sworn
you don't wana playe me?
then life sings a songs that has no words
but the twings in song, it death like long
who i am? yes i am , that outraged song.
you don't wana play me?
with flute of griefs , on the true of gloom
life sang me loud, in dead dark room
till the rest was held , for the rest of days
till the face of night , had a blood-red glaze
]
till the end each bite, of the fate was sting
till the hopeless hope, wore the robe of wing
now the hope is dead and the life starts mourn
why are you still quite? break the silence , you sworn
you don't wana playe me?
Difference
I smiled for true at times …. but i really remember one this time…..Day was Saturday and i had to buy grocery items for the week. (you know i hated that)
It was cold that day ,was raining in slight bits but winds were sledging through the chest, that moment I was eating in a restaurant my fav. fillet-o-fish sandwich with no ketch-up … all alone ( though restaurant was full with people)
suddenly my eyes wandered outside the glass. … saw a lady in short skirt …. bare legs…. sharp features and figure that can get anybody’s attention towards ……BUT some newspapers in hands….
I was curious ….. “newspapers are free then y the hell she is selling them” …. i finished the sandwich meanwhile. wore the jacket…zipped it and got out of the restaurant having a shelter of MIRGOS bag which saved my hair from getting wet (i get cold quite easily :)
More i got nearer to her …more the beauty of that lady captured my eyes. INTENTIONALLY ,not making her realized the fact that i gazed her,i passed by her and got her jingle-like sound in ears
“Bonjour Monseiur! acheter le journal ?? ” (Goood day sir! Will u buy the newspaper)
“Vous fera combien demande? (How much u demand? my curiosity pushed me further)
She said :Autant que vous voulez (as much as u like)
i said : 2 francs …..
and the look on her face was a story in itself …. Nobody actually purchased the news paper so far…. and how long she has been there ,ALLAH knows only.
I gave her the coin of two francs and she said
Merci monsieur ….
i moved ahead a couple of yards…. and suddenly came back… said her in english … “Give me those two francs back”
her smile left the same silence on her face as if a train with 100 Miles/Hour passes through a small station and then a silence prevails for a while.
She said nothing and returned the coin to me and turned the face as if nothing happened…. (said thanks too … weird na )
I took the coin and kept in my pocket … but it took me less than 10 seconds to find another coin of 5 francs amount …
I called … Excuze moi madame …. she turned the back with a gesture as if she thought i was gone …. I moved ahead and gave her that 5 franc coin
and she took that with a fear as if i am getting my hand back if she touched the coin
but i said “take it ..it’s urz now”
this time i could see some moisture in her eyes. but with a MONALISA smile (i used here “monalisa” purposely )
then she told me in broken english….. “My baby is hungry and i am too, for night i have nothing”
but with broken smile which made me familiar with the definition of DIGNITY in another way.
I turned back moved a couple of steps ahead and again that jingle-like sound sailed through my ears…..
“Merci monsieur ….”
I turned my head and waved her and walked towards the subway station to catch the metro-train but this time i didn’t have that MIGROS bag on my head and i knew i am going to sneeze that whole night …. but a Smile that i can say TRUE one accompanied me for a while
It was cold that day ,was raining in slight bits but winds were sledging through the chest, that moment I was eating in a restaurant my fav. fillet-o-fish sandwich with no ketch-up … all alone ( though restaurant was full with people)
suddenly my eyes wandered outside the glass. … saw a lady in short skirt …. bare legs…. sharp features and figure that can get anybody’s attention towards ……BUT some newspapers in hands….
I was curious ….. “newspapers are free then y the hell she is selling them” …. i finished the sandwich meanwhile. wore the jacket…zipped it and got out of the restaurant having a shelter of MIRGOS bag which saved my hair from getting wet (i get cold quite easily :)
More i got nearer to her …more the beauty of that lady captured my eyes. INTENTIONALLY ,not making her realized the fact that i gazed her,i passed by her and got her jingle-like sound in ears
“Bonjour Monseiur! acheter le journal ?? ” (Goood day sir! Will u buy the newspaper)
“Vous fera combien demande? (How much u demand? my curiosity pushed me further)
She said :Autant que vous voulez (as much as u like)
i said : 2 francs …..
and the look on her face was a story in itself …. Nobody actually purchased the news paper so far…. and how long she has been there ,ALLAH knows only.
I gave her the coin of two francs and she said
Merci monsieur ….
i moved ahead a couple of yards…. and suddenly came back… said her in english … “Give me those two francs back”
her smile left the same silence on her face as if a train with 100 Miles/Hour passes through a small station and then a silence prevails for a while.
She said nothing and returned the coin to me and turned the face as if nothing happened…. (said thanks too … weird na )
I took the coin and kept in my pocket … but it took me less than 10 seconds to find another coin of 5 francs amount …
I called … Excuze moi madame …. she turned the back with a gesture as if she thought i was gone …. I moved ahead and gave her that 5 franc coin
and she took that with a fear as if i am getting my hand back if she touched the coin
but i said “take it ..it’s urz now”
this time i could see some moisture in her eyes. but with a MONALISA smile (i used here “monalisa” purposely )
then she told me in broken english….. “My baby is hungry and i am too, for night i have nothing”
but with broken smile which made me familiar with the definition of DIGNITY in another way.
I turned back moved a couple of steps ahead and again that jingle-like sound sailed through my ears…..
“Merci monsieur ….”
I turned my head and waved her and walked towards the subway station to catch the metro-train but this time i didn’t have that MIGROS bag on my head and i knew i am going to sneeze that whole night …. but a Smile that i can say TRUE one accompanied me for a while
SON LOOK THERE
I unintentionally looked back, forgetting for a second about the club sandwich I was eating while walking on the roadside. A small kid, who most definitely was weeping over something, suddenly stopped weeping and his facial expressions changed gradually 180 degrees from SAD mode to HAPPY one. In a matter of moments he was as happy as he was never SAD and his mother, who might have been trying for “ages” to make him smile, seemed relieved enough (well actually the way she hugged him told me that)
It seemed as if the story ends here and “they lived happily ever after” wali situation ho gyi hai. Kid is happy. Mommy is satisfied. What else we need? This ELSE intrigues the real story…
It took me less than a second to realize that this story is not about the mom, not about kid. It is about that ELSE, the clown and about US. Kahani toh bohat puraani hai, itni puraani k jab se insaan ka wajood hai.
Clown made that kid smile and that’s it. what about clown? Is clown happy? Nobody wondered neither kid nor mommy. Why would they anyway? Clowns don’t weep. They are happy by default. At least their funny faces suggest that ….This is what it seems but behind that mask is the hidden story nobody would interest much.
Every clown has a story, untold and unheard…. and we are all clowns, aren’t we???
I smiled a hollow and moved on eating my club sandwich
It seemed as if the story ends here and “they lived happily ever after” wali situation ho gyi hai. Kid is happy. Mommy is satisfied. What else we need? This ELSE intrigues the real story…
It took me less than a second to realize that this story is not about the mom, not about kid. It is about that ELSE, the clown and about US. Kahani toh bohat puraani hai, itni puraani k jab se insaan ka wajood hai.
Clown made that kid smile and that’s it. what about clown? Is clown happy? Nobody wondered neither kid nor mommy. Why would they anyway? Clowns don’t weep. They are happy by default. At least their funny faces suggest that ….This is what it seems but behind that mask is the hidden story nobody would interest much.
Every clown has a story, untold and unheard…. and we are all clowns, aren’t we???
I smiled a hollow and moved on eating my club sandwich
A Blog is a journal you may enter about your life, your thoughts, interesting experiences, or lessons you have learned. It's your own page on Connecting Singles that you can update on a regular basis, or just whenever you have something to say. You can write about an opinion, impart words of wisdom, or talk about something interesting in your day. Creating a blog is a good way to share something of yourself with Connecting Singles members. Reading blogs is a good way to learn more about members you have met here. Please be sure to read the blog rules before posting.
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