I once got lost in Southeast DC at 11.00pm.I have never been more terrified in my whole life like I was that particular night.Its just like a scene straight out of a war movie,dark streets, abandonded buildings and crack addicts roaming the streets.Ironically the Congress is right there and one would expect them to divert some of the trillions of dollars they sign away as aid to other nations every year to clean up their own backyard.

And you decided this was worth a whole post.So what if he speaks reer xamari....Such a total waste of space...... :rolleyes:

Jack wakes up at home with a huge hangover after the night of his office Christmas party. He forces himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits down and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. Jack looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror, and notices a note on the table, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to go shopping-- Love you He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating. Jack asks, "Son...what happened last night." Jack son answers "Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and out of your mind. You broke some furniture, puked in the hallway, and got that black eye when you ran into the door!" Jack says, "So, why is everything in such perfect order, so clean, I have a red rose, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?" His son replies, "Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed," 'Leave me alone, lady, I'm married!' " Broken furniture - $85.26 Hot Breakfast - $4.20 Red Rose bud -$3.00 Two Aspirins -$0.38 Saying the right thing, at the right time.........Priceless

Juma Nin yar oo yaraan bidaar gashey maad rabtaa in aad Horn ka dhigtid....

^^Well said Dawoco. Checkmate ragna tii horey weli la'yihiin adna tu labaad baad ka sheekeyneysaa...Rag kala war la'aa

Ilaahey ha u naxiriste.Amin

BN Isqor bilaa liis ma la dhihi jirey..... Libaax This is what the Somaliland media is writing...Hows wishing for war markaas..? Madaxweynaha Puntland, Cadde Muuse Oo Markii U Horreysey Daboolka Ka Qaaday Wadahadal Dhexmaray Isaga Iyo Madaxweyne Riyaale

Mandhow goosaha iga qarso.Taas wax lagu qosle maaha.Ragna waa jabkii dumarna waa badheedhkooda maad maqlin but my point was to illustrate how close my relations are with the first family,we tight like dey say in da states....

Baashi And I thought you were older than all this but I guess I was wrong...... Back to the drawing boards it is to find that mature Puntlander who we could have a decent,mature discussion minus all the propoganda of course...

^^^^I guess its never too late then to say it.I know the presidents wife's second cousin's daughter's husband's third aunt's daughter(well honestly she refused to go out with me and I have been stalking her ever since).But I can hook you up with you know who if the need arises....

I guess he had no need for them......

^^^^Where do you get that impression.What is there to be defensive about.....?

^^^^^ Why didnt you tell me that b4,I would have basked in the limelight while I have it. :mad: Oh well to old to cry over split milk now.I guess my next visit to this area will be a year from now IA.Hope I get the welcome I got today...

Baashi Hello thats only a few letters. Sky I agree sumthing used for a thousand years surely does not require a nuclear scientist to reconfigure especially when you have had high school students use it before you.All you need is government willing to introduce it and claim it as an achievement and young Horn defend it 30 years later....

^^^Casanova,me...Hell nah.I'm more like the soldier described by Destiny's child....Minus the ghetto part of course....

VR You are welcome..... FF Wat makes you think we havent already....

^^^^Have I forgotten to mention how those boots look great on you......Those and chocolate chip cookies with a cup of hot chocolate would do me wonders ...

For those single people dreaming of that big wedding in a fancy hotel..... One thing I think the author forgot to mention is the lil flower girl who always look bored and the over done bride with a groom with a Tux that always looks a size too big for him.And oh yes the cutting of the cake always ends up with both bride and groom getting more than they can chew on...... Saxarla’a And Saxardeed’s Anticlimactic Hour Rhoda A. Rageh, 06 January, 2005 They have been planning for this magnificent moment for nearly a year. Its illusion of course cannot be underrated as the fusion of two distinct individuals especially when observed symbolically as being the initial step to a new life. However, the modernity, verve and zest surrounding this hour have been anything but the image of stability and harmony. From the deepest recesses at home to the most sophisticated hotels in the West, Saxarla’s and Saxardeed’s hour seems to share one sad character with the rest: chaos. One wonders if chaos is an inherent gene? Is chaos an intrinsic cultural aspect? Isn’t it time groups reflect at their chaotic wedding in an examination of deeper problem at home? Or is the difficulty with the imitation of something that isn’t familiar to the best of them. Saxarla’s and Saxardeed’s bathetic wedding reception demonstrates lack of discipline that snatches the limelight from the thing itself. Months of planning advertised this wedding well before it happened, which has built the emotions of those involved into destructive energy. Superficially the wedding imitate western model until the moment arrived. On the night of the wedding, it is hard to believe that anything was planned. Bewildered Saxarla’ glides into the reception dragging along her clumsy white dress like the Chinese dragon, exposing those places that were supposed to be covered while half of the dress flows on the floor like a river. Tethered in her own design, she totters into the hall in the hands of a vague groom amidst relatives and friends who forever bustle in front and all around them like bees in a beehive. Young more baffled flower girls and ring bearers carrying bulky baskets, zigzag along the path of the bride and groom, surprisingly encouraging more volunteers to exacerbate the crowd around the newlyweds. As cacophonous supposedly well wishing cries of African/Arabic or English origin usher them into the reception hall, few ululations cut through like the whistle of a referee against a serious violation. From the blush wallpaper illuminated by fabulous chandeliers to the posh white tables cloths accentuated with pink, purple or green trimmings everything seems immaculately designed until they arrive. Chaos reigns from the moment they step out of the limousine and all that conscious planning becomes devastated when the irrational asserts its grip. Saxarla’ and Saxardeed step onto a dazzling stage with two chairs clearly for them but neither they nor their volunteers seem sure of where the newlyweds should sit. Saxarla’ clumsily slumps into one of the chairs then changes seats with Saxardeed while the social bees bumble up and down the stage to strengthen her dress or wipe sweat from her eyebrow. Almost one third of the guests suddenly become helpers, and decisions from how the newlyweds should hold hands to where and how they should cut the cake happen spontaneously on the spot. Should they drink from the two separate glasses or rather, more romantically, from two straws in the same glass creates a tussle. Must greet guests competing to shake the couples hands compel the newlyweds into backward and sideward glances threatening the veil and the artistic hairstyle. One wonders if the manner and method of greeting guests wasn’t in the planning but then one assumes something as important as the grand entrance was planned in advance. Why can’t anyone seem to know what to do at the moment of truth? “Watch out for these bumble bees. I am afraid they will trip me,†whispers Fay to her mother thinking about her upcoming wedding. From lack of order or too much of it, Saxarla’ and Saxardeed are ushered up the stage then to the dance floor for strange and infamous waltz. After few mumbles of the holy Qur’an read hastily and often imperfectly, the stage opens for a disco like festivity beginning with the newlyweds. “When in our culture did the bride and groom dance on their wedding?†Whispers an old guest to her neighbour who dismisses her with a gesture. Then comes the equally infamous cake. This odd cake cutting tradition never lacks unhelpful directors who frustrate the bride and groom. In spite of a knife in a conspicuous place and the hope that the newlyweds might have an idea what to do with it, helpers move the knife upward and around in ritualistic mode before they allow them to cut the cake. One wonders why wasn’t this rehearsed before? Waiters in starched uniform observe stiffly in shocking silence as more guests than they can feed flow into the hall. They stand spellbound wondering of whom to serve and whom to ignore since there is no indication of who is invited or who is a guest of a guest. Guests straddling around to greet long lost friends create more traffic in an already crowded hall. All in the middle of unusually loud music, which though of African origin has metamorphosed into something peculiar. At least some African words offer comic relief in this tragic event until it is time for a cultural dance. This beautifully rhythmic cultural expression has been reduced to a messy strings of songs rendered a wail through a horrendous microphone combined with some unsynchronized jumps which are followed by few negotiations that goes on and off for a few minutes until they abandon the idea itself. Unfortunately, the culture represented by this disorganized dance is deserted immediately like the rest of traditional values. The beauty of Africa’s famous drum never exudes from this traditional dance and yet the sole beat of the drum moved mountains in the continent. “Are we incapable of holding on to the thing dearest to us?†Cries a plump lady whose impromptu moves landed her on a chair nearby. Western wedding is planned to the minuscule detail. Rehearsals with all parties concerned are routine practice before the wedding. Guests come dressed appropriately not to steal the spotlight from the bride. Most of all, the bride in her chosen dress must have made attempts to be comfortable with it. Even for the people, who invented it, if they have to dance, practise the waltz quite well. Nothing is perfect without practice so why does this crowd imitate something unfamiliar to them and hope everything to be perfect without practice. In spite of these frantic scenes, the marriage goes on, but one wonders about the process that led up to this disarray. Clearly a lot of energy has been exerted to have an immaculate wedding not to mention enormous amounts of money. If irrationality rules as a way of life, why can’t the young couple save their energy and money to enjoy a disco style dance before going off to a relaxing honeymoon? It seems unfair for Saxarla’s and Saxardeed’s debut to appear more like a street fight than a planned wedding reception. They deserve better. Should the most sacred Qur’an be trivialized to introduce things prohibited by its injunctions? Should guests not remain guests as a matter of courtesy in this tragicomedy? Rhoda A. Rageh

GNP Ma maqashey the new John Legend song,Ordinary ppl.Dont why I came up with that but I think its beautiful.Some words in there remind me of who we are and where we at.....

GNP Have I just been dumped in public for all to see ..... :mad: VR You never offered to cook for me....dooro with bariis,mixed vegies with sabiib.....Imagine saabiib.Cant remember how long its been.

^^^^Wa markaad gaajo igu dhishey dee....

^^^^Easy kulaha.Its only dinner VR for a starved iskabulo.....

For a moment I was like whos the new person sheekada ku soo dhex boodey...... Waan so socdaa kow dheh calool madhana waan siidaa laba dheh plus a CD of my favorite songs to listen over dinner and a sweet sumthin to say thank you....

Sirta noolasha aa la dhaha.Meel cunto laga sameyey cid looma sheego....What if they become torobo dhuniyaal amase ii boobaan.....

Saaxiib I know that laakin all I'm saying is that this was already in use but among a small minority.What they did was basically take an already existing mode of communication among school kids to new levels.That for certain does not qualify someone as a pioneer.He might have made changes and improved upon it but he in my book isnt and shouldn't be branded as the 1st person to write Somali in latin.We just unfortunate to really know who that person or person are....