Disappear Pics And Quotes

The building looked even more spectacular to Ngozi than it had in Femi’s phone pic.  A pale cream rather than true white, it was two stories high with cappuccino trim and dark,  reflecting windows. A central balcony overlooked the driveway. “Wow,” Ngozi murmured. “The White House.

Within ten seconds, Twinkhunter’s blocked him. Cooper likes the way that feels. So he goes on. He tells the guys who want “masculine only” that they’re just as bad as homophobes, trying to make masculine into some macho gym ideal. He tells the guys who say “whites only” that they’re racist scum. He tells the sixty-year-olds who are looking for “under 18s” that they are pedophiles. He tells the younger guys with naked pics that they should stop prostituting themselves. You’re pathetic, he writes. You’re desperate. Are you afraid to show your face? Is that why you show your dick? Does your boyfriend know you do this? I think there’s something wrong with my screen. I can’t tell if that’s your ass or your face. You’re looking for a good time? Do you really think you’ll find it here? They all start blocking him. Just like that, they disappear from his phone, disappear from his life. Antimatter isn’t on right now, but Cooper feels that if he were, he’d easily find a way to get blocked there, too.

In 1968 at the age of 17 years, I started my migration journey to Karachi, leaving my mother, brothers, and sisters for my literary fondness and higher study. I achieved a Bachelor of Arts from Sindh University, Hyderabad, and a Master of Arts and a Law degree from Karachi University. I started my Ph.D. under the guidance of Dr. Aslam Farrukhi. I couldn't complete it, and in 1978, at the age of 26, I migrated to the Netherlands to face The Prisoner Of The Hague; you can read it on Google Book.com in Urdu. The pic that someone so much liked, whom I have loved since the age of eleven; she was ten years older than me, but love does not care about such things. Unfortunately, my destiny brought me to Europe; I betrayed her that I feel and think; she never married and died. I have a gift, a handkerchief that she gave me in 1962, which I always keep with me wherever I go. After six-decade, I saw someone when I was editing an article about her in 2011, with the same features, height, and smile, but unfortunately, this time, she was too young. Surprisingly, whenever I searched my name on Google, I saw her pic displayed with my pics; I clicked the text alongside the pic, not relevant, and the pic went disappeared but not from my heart.