why ??

Of course you do ......... loooool

Avatar has never been a manhood sxb ..... go blow yourself up if you have the balls.

I want to arrest him ,, do you know where i can find him ??

loooooooooooool@wasn't he your friend ,,, how do you know him horta ??

friend ??? :confused:

Yes they are either in the Jail or hiding in Muqdisho (WANTED) .....

If you are shy, you will be perceived as weak, less friendly, not interested, or just plain "boring" -simply because you don't know what to say in social situations. Because of these are other negative traits associated with shyness, women rarely if ever give the shy man the opportunity to know whether he can be "upbeat and nice to be with" once she actually got to know him. The shy man gives the impression of being inferior and less able to succeed and provide for her and women feel a certain level of contempt, sometimes overt, but sometimes residing deep at a subconscious level for shy men. Women aren't as warm as we're led to believe. They are most often hard as nails. That's another reason why jerks are more successful. Simply put a shy man is simply unattractive to women because of his display of social awkwardness. Jerks are never shy. Since the jerks don't care about anyone else, they have nothing to lose, and can approach women in a completely relaxed and confident way...And women LOVE jerks. Women are eager to reject shy men. I wonder how a shy women feels? There is one element of shyness that might serve you well though - the desire be trusted and liked for you are. But most often will have nothing to do with that. But there is that rare case from time to time. Women say, "Nice guys are boring because they lack confidence, assertiveness and sexual passion." You need to ask yourself, "Are women really worth all this trouble?" Many men are saying NO these days. The guys who get the girls end up more miseable than the guys who don't.

loooooooool ,,, waar dee sidaa digsi uma ihi anigu ,, intaa waaan dhaamaaye ,,

Sidaasaa loo cunaa ama waa la iska daayaaa ,,,

Dee odaygii da'da ahaa ee inanta yar guursaday ee marka uu hawsha ku jiro dhuusi jiray ka dibna si uu u asturo odhan jiray "Waa Caado Rag" .. iyaduna ilayn inan yar bay ahayde way rumaysatay oo waxay u qaadatay inuu rag oo dhami sidaas yahay ,,,, Maalintii dambe isagoo safar ku maqan ayuu waaxid geeljire ah oo dhalinyaro ahi yartii helay oo uu dee boodhka kaga duuliyay ,,, waxay aragtay dee waxa ka maqan iyo inuu odaygu u qarinayay. Markuu soo noqday odaygii buu halkiisii ka miisay oo yidhi "waa caado rag" ,, inta ay qososhay bay tidhi "caado ragna maahee waa ceeb aad leedahay" ,,, Odaygii wuu fahmay in loo daba maray ,,,, halkii buu ku furay ,,,

Originally posted by Abtigiis &Tolka: Where is Somaliland? Are they not there? Come On JB will be offended! ... when you see Somaliland i hope inaanad taageeradaada la bakhaylin.

Originally posted by yACQuub: Sababta dumarka looga badiyey dhinacaas waa xaga dheesha. Men can disguise their inabilty to perform, but I guess Habraha aren't good at acting ( Waligiin ma maqasheen sheekadii 'waa xaajo rag'? ... waa laguu yaqaan ,, Waa xaajo rag ,,,,,, markay fahantay bay tidhi xaajo ragna maahee waa ceeb aad leedahay ,,, yartii in loo daba maray buu fahmay ,,

If the people of burco have joined the revolution, that is a great thing for the future unity and stability of somalia. Nothing is going on ,, just the usual is caycay and isu hanjabid ..........

Non-sense ,,,,,, wasiirku isagaa iska hadlay

soldiers from the base have not received their salary for quite some time and government officials have been hiring soldiers from their own clans to create hegemony in the country's forces Money-driven or caqiido ???

Ceeb kuma aha inuu kacaanka taageeri jiray oo soomaali oo dhan baa taageertay markii hore isaguna kuwaas uun buu ka mid ahaa. Waxaase dhacday gabayadiisii wadaniga ahaa in dowladu u adeegsatay inay kacaanka ku amaanaan inkastoo ay jireen qaar uu toos ugu tiriyayba. Waxaan xasuustaa markii la dhisay tiyaatarka Hargeisa (The Theater) wuxuu u tiriyay gabay aan ka sii xasuusto: Tiyaatarahaa la dhisay Talaabo aan qaadnay iyo Tabihii soomaalidiyo Waa tumasho iyo tacliin Laakiin sidaan taariikhda ku hayo, odayga waa la xidhay somewhere in Gedo dabadeedna sidii loo garaacayay buu dhintay. Khalad way noqon kartaa laakiin sidaan maqlay baa sidaas ahayd.

Aren't people are dying in between them then ???

“I was the belle of Millvale.” The widow Murphy sat erect in her walker. Like the queen in her carriage. Took a tissue out. Carefully from her purse. Wiped her brow. “There were no end of suitors. For my hand.” The widow smiled at the passengers of the mall. Filing past her. Like the mall was an aeroplane. And their destination. All of their destinations. Was the W.C. “Of course most of those lovely young men gave up their lives. In the Great War. The war to end all wars. How optimistic. Such high ideals. Saving us from the ruthless Hun. Such fools. Us and the Huns.” The widow dabbed lightly at her forehead. Was it the Great War or the next war? “I’m sweltering. Suppose we should go inside where there’s air-conditioning. What a time we had. What were we dancing? Then? Was it Strauss? Benny Goodman? I can hardly remember. I was listed on everyone’s dance card. Oh yes, I was a social butterfly. As if each young man’s lap. Was a flower. And I was searching. For the stamen.” The widow giggled. “The last dance. Oh, I suppose I was a little devilish. A young girl’s devilishness. Promising so much to so many. But that’s what us girls were like. Full of promises. And the boys loved it. Back then. The ones that survived.” The family Robinson passed by the widow’s walker. The widow turned her head affectionately and reached out for the young Peggy Robinson. The little girl dodged fearfully behind her mother. The little girl turned to her mother. “Who’s that old lady talking to?” Mrs. Robinson smiled politely at the old lady and tugged at her daughter’s arm. The widow returned the smile in kind. “Little brat!” she muttered into her tissue. A line of spit stretched from the tissue, which she now returned to her purse. A small spider caught in the light breeze of the day found itself tangled in the spit and soon buried in the old woman’s purse. More shoppers passed by. Pretending not to notice the old woman addressing them. For her part, the widow’s attention flirted from one passing stranger to the next. Everest stepped up to the widow. “They aren’t listening to you today,” he said with a smile. The old woman looked up at the large man standing in front of her. She’d seen him before. Nosy prig. “You’re blocking the sun!” she grumbled. Everest stepped to one side. The widow Murphy closed her eyes. Smiled for a moment. Before opening them again and casting a dart at Everest. “And who are you to tell me who is listening? Of course, they are listening. I have many admirers. I was just having the loveliest conversation. With a little girl. Peggy Robinson. About the days. When I was her age. Why is it that the old days seem so filled with… ” “Memories,” Everest suggested. The widow shook her head. “Life,” she said then closed her eyes. Everest nodded to the Zeagman’s who passed by. And then to Maynard G. Krebbs. Ed Kuris, a local artist, stopped to speak. “I’m a little short of cash,” Ed said. “Well, Ed,” Everest responded, “you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Ed moved on. Everest turned his attention back to the widow. “I see you here every day. In front of the stores. Sitting in your walker, addressing the passing throng. But, I don’t see anyone stopping to listen.” “Perhaps you aren’t here all the time.” Everest nodded. “Perhaps.” The old woman cackled. “You think I’m mad.” “Well…” Everest began but hesitated. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to be a certain way,” the widow explained. “To please people. Not to upset anyone. It took so much effort.” “I see,” Everest responded. “Do you?” the widow smiled slyly. Everest bowed slightly. And responded. “I try to see things through other’s eyes. To understand the world.” The widow shook her head. “Give me a break. Mister. Understanding. How can we understand other people’s pain?” Everest stared at the widow for several seconds. Suddenly like a cloud burst she seemed lucid. “I had a friend. During the war. Just a girl. She died in the camps.” The old woman cleared her throat. Spit on the sidewalk. Just missing Everest’s shoes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you think you could understand her pain?” Everest did not respond. “Of course you couldn’t.” The old woman reached back into her purse for her tissue. “No one can understand. That is the horror of it. It is beyond understanding. All we can do…” The widow’s voice trailed off as she wiped her brow and cheek with a tissue. The body of a dead spider was left behind. On her left cheek. Everest smiled uncomfortably. He noticed a smudge on the widow’s cheek. The widow looked up to the tall man. “I find it awfully sticky. Don’t you find it so?” Everest shook his head. The clarity of her mind had dissipated. A fog had moved back in. “I have many admirers, you know? I was the belle of Millvale.” Everest nodded. “Of course, mam.” “I wish I could get a nice drink of cool lemonade,” the widow said. “Perhaps at the restaurant,” Everest responded. “I’m wearing a thong.” The smile that had graced the face of Everest disappeared. His mouth dropped. “What?” he finally asked. The old woman cackled with delight. “A thong,” she repeated. “You want to have a peek?” she reached down to the hem of her dress to lift it up. Everest turned and raced off. The old lady laughed with delight. For a moment. Then an image flashed across her mind. An image of a young girl. From the widow’s youth. A tear slipped from her eyes and ran down her cheek. She took her tissue and wiped it away. The corpse of the spider was carried off in the flood. The widow stood up and looked down the crowded sidewalk of the plaza. Take the ‘A’ Train was playing over the intercom. The widow began to move to the rhythm. As she jostled through the crowd. With her walker. No one noticed that she was dancing. David Halliday

In the Line of Fire By: President Gen Pervez Musharraf READ HERE

That is good. I'm looking forward to the Ramadan. I've already put my plans in place Ilaahay ha ina gaadhsiiyee .........

Fetish ?? ,,,

I think the clan elders did their best to release them without ransom ,, but when some big guys in Bugland are the bosses of those young ignorant boys then what do you expect. A Million Dollar ?? ,, Come on Tolow mid walba imisaa ku soo hagaagtay ??