thank you all ...i'm glad that you all saw the truth in this. I hope we can all learn to over come our weakness. peace and luv

I came in here so I can see if you mentioned my name or not....if you did I would've had one more reason to hunt you down and dispose of you...if you get my drift But I am sad to say that you have let me down :rolleyes: oh well...there will always be another time... peace and luv

Highly Illogical Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decided that they weren't going anywhere in life and thought they should go to college to get ahead. Bubba goes in first, and the professor advises him to take math, history and logic. "What's logic?" asked Bubba. The professor answered, "Let me give you an example. Do you own a weed-whacker?" "I sure do," answered the redneck. "Then I can assume, using logic, that you have a yard," replied the professor. "That's real good," the redneck responded in awe. The professor continued, "Logic will also tell me that since you have a yard, you also have a house." Impressed, the redneck shouted, "AMAZIN'!" "And since you own a house, logic dictates that you have a wife." "Betty Mae! This is incredible!" "Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume that you are heterosexual," said the professor. "You're absolutely right! Why, that's the most fascinatin' thing I ever heard of! I cain't wait to take this here logic class." Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, walked back into the hallway where Cooter is still waiting. "So, what classes are ya takin?" he asks. "Math, history and logic," replies Bubba. Cooter says, "What in tarnation is logic?" "Let me give you an example. Do ya own a weed-eater?" "No." "You're a queer, ain't ya?"

Here are the ones I can remember " I got your champion right between my legs you short punk b!tch" Hurricane " Sistah sistah please..I understand why you steppin' to me..the light skin brotha like non otha flow like a lova sting like a killa...you know what i'm saying...let me get your name and number" Ride " I aint in the business of keeping ni99as that don;t wanna be kept" Poetic justice " I slap people for fun" Money talks " She aint nothing but a money hungry ho why you think her eyes are green" Mo money That all folks...if y'all aint seen ride I would suggest that you do.... peace and luv

lol ameenah I agree with you. I don't believe its cheating unless your married or you talked about it and decided that you would not see other people. I personally have dated more than one guy at once...like ameenah said you gotta keep your options open But if I was married and he cheated on me...maxaa iska ag qabaneeyna ? the truth is you never know until your in that situation. peace and luv

Angle eyes the color purple was written by Alice Walker....Its one of my favorite books..teh other one is little women by Louisa may Alcott peace

Shaytan called a worldwide convention . In his opening address to his evil servants, he said, "We can't keep the Muslims from going to the Masjids. We can't keep them from reading the Qur'an and knowing the truth. We can't even keep them from forming an intimate, abiding relationship experience with Allah. If they gain that connection with Allah, our power over them is broken. So let them go to the Masjids, let them have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they can't gain that relationship with Allah. This is what I want you to do servants. Distract them from gaining hold of their Creator and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!" "How shall we do this?" shouted his servants. "Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds," he answered. "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow. Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work 6 - 7 days a week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles. Keep them from spending time with their children. As their family fragments, soon, their home will offer no escape from the pressures of work! " Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small voice. Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive, to keep the TV, VCR, CDs, and their PCs going constantly in their homes. And see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays music constantly. This will jam their minds and break that union with Allah. "Fill the coffee table with worldly magazines and newspapers. Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day. Invade their driving moments with billboards. Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogues, sweepstakes, and every kind of newsletter and emotional offering of free products, services, and false hopes. Keep skinny, beautiful models on the magazines so the husbands will believe that external beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. Ha! That will fragment those families quickly! "Even in their recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return from their recreation exhausted, disquieted, and unprepared for the coming week. Don't let them go out in nature to reflect on God's wonders. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, concerts and movies instead. Keep them busy, busy, busy! And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled emotions. "Go ahead, let them be involved in soul winning. But crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Allah. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family for the good of the cause. It will work! It will work!" It was quite a convention. And the evil servants went eagerly to their assignments causing Muslims everywhere to get busy, busy, busy and to rush here and there. I guess the question is: "Has the devil been successful at his scheme? You be the judge! B - Being U - Under S - Satan's Y - Yoke Are you BUSY?

Destination the Hereafter - Have You Packed Your Suitcases? From ’az-Zamân al-Qâdim Compiled by ’Abdul-Malik al-Qasim Translated by Muhammad al-Sharîf Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn’t stop her though, you could never catch her not reciting Qur‘ân. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again, boredom was for others. As for me I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place became my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my salâh. One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching.The adhân softly rose in that quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket. Her voice carried from her prayer room. Yes? Would you like anything Nûrah? With a sharp needle she popped my plans. Don’t sleep before you pray Fajr! Agh ... there’s still an hour before Fajr, that was only the first adhân! With those loving pinches of hers, she called me closer. She was always like that, even before the fierce sickness shook her spirit and shut her in bed. Hanan can you come sit beside me. I could never refuse any of her requests, you could touch the purity and sincerity. Yes, Nûrah? Please sit here. OK, I’m sitting. What’s on your mind? With the sweetest mono voice she began reciting: “Every soul shall taste death and you will merely be repaid your earnings on Resurrection Day....” (3:185) She stopped thoughtfully. Then she asked, Do you believe in death? Of course I do. Do you believe that you shall be responsible for whatever you do, regardless of how small or large? I do, but Allâh is Forgiving and Merciful and I ve got a long life waiting for me. Stop it Hanan ... aren’t you afraid of death and it’s abruptness? Look at Hind. She was younger than you but she died in a car accident. So did so and so, and so and so. Death is age-blind and your age could never be a measure of when you shall die. The darkness of the room filled my skin with fear. I m scared of the dark and now you made me scared of death, how am I supposed to go to sleep now. Nûrah, I thought you promised you’d go with us on vacation during the summer break. Impact. Her voice broke and her heart quivered. I might be going on a long trip this year Hanan, but somewhere else. Just maybe. All of our lives are in Allâh’s hands and we all belong to Him. My eyes welled and the tears slipped down both cheeks. I pondered my sisters grizzly sickness, how the doctors had informed my father privately that there was not much hope that Nûrah was going to outlive the disease. She wasn’t told though. Who hinted to her? Or was it that she could sense the truth. What are you thinking about Hanan? Her voice was sharp. Do you think I am just saying this because I am sick? Uh - uh. In fact, I may live longer than people who are not sick. And you Hanan, how long are you going to live? Twenty years, maybe? Forty? Then what? Through the dark she reached for my hand and squeezed gently. There’s no difference between us; we’re all going to leave this world to live in Paradise or agonise in Hell. Listen to the words of Allâh: “...Anyone who is pushed away from the Fire and shown into Jannah will have triumphed...”(3:185) I left my sister’s room dazed, her words ringing in my ears: May Allâh guide you Hanan - don’t forget your prayer. Eight ’O clock in the morning. Pounding on my door. I don’t usually wake up at this time. Crying. Confusion. O Allâh, what happened? Nûrah’s condition became critical after Fajr, they took her immediately to the hospital ... Inna lillâhi wa inna ilayhi raji’ûn. There wasn’t going to be any trips this summer. It was written that I would spend the summer at home. After an eternity... It was One ’O clock in the afternoon. Mother phoned the hospital. Yes. You can come and see her now. Dad’s voice had changed, mother could sense something had gone deathly wrong. We left immediately. Where was that avenue I used to travel and thought was so short? Why was it so long now, so very long. Where was the cherished crowd and traffic that would give me a chance to gaze left and right. Everyone, just move out of our way. Mother was shaking her head in her hands crying as she made du’â for her Nûrah. We arrived at the hospitals main entrance. One man was moaning, another was involved in an accident and a third’s eyes were iced, you couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. We skipped stairs to Nûrah’s floor. She was in intensive care. The nurse approached us. Let me take you to her. As we walked down the aisles the nurse went on expressing how sweet a girl Nûrah was. She reassured Mother somewhat that Nûrah’s condition had gotten better than what it was in the morning. Sorry. No more than one visitor at a time. This was the intensive care unit. Through the small window in the door and past the flurry of white robes I caught my sister’s eyes. Mother was standing beside her. After two minutes, mother came out unable to control her crying. You may enter and say salâm to her on condition that you do not speak too long, they told me. Two minutes should be enough. How are you Nûrah? You were fine last night sister, what happened? We held hands, she squeezed harmlessly. Even now, Alhamdulillâh, I’m doing fine. Alhamdulillâh ... but ... your hands are so cold. I sat on her bedside and rested my fingers on her knee. She jerked it away. Sorry ... did I hurt you? No, it is just that I remembered Allâh’s words “One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)” (75:29) ... Hanan pray for me. I may be meeting the first day of the hearafter very soon. It is a long journey and I haven’t prepared enough good deeds in my suitcase. A tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek at her words. I cried and she joined me. The room blurred away and left us two sisters - to cry together. Rivulets of tears splashed down on my sister’s palm which I held with both hands. Dad was now becoming more worried about me. I’ve never cried like that before. At home and upstairs in my room, I watched the sun pass away with a sorrowful day. Silence mingled in our corridors. A cousin came in my room, another. The visitors were many and all the voices from downstairs stirred together. Only one thing was clear at that point ... Nûrah had died! I stopped distinguishing who came and who went. I couldn t remember what they said. O Allâh, where was I? What was going on? I couldn’t even cry anymore. Later that week they told me what had happened. Dad had taken my hand to say goodbye to my sister for the last time, I had kissed Nûrah’s head. I remember only one thing though, seeing her spread on that bed, the bed that she was going to die on. I remembered the verse she recited: “One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)” and I knew too well the truth of the next verse: “The drive on that day we be to your Lord (Allâh)!”(75:30)I tiptoed into her prayer room that night. Staring at the quiet dressers and silenced mirrors, I treasured who it was that had shared my mother’s stomach with me. Nûrah was my twin sister. I remembered who I had swapped sorrows with. Who had comforted my rainy days. I remembered who had prayed for my guidance and who had spent so many tears for so many long nights telling me about death and accountability. May Allâh save us all. Tonight is Nûrah’s first night that she shall spend in her tomb. O Allâh, have mercy on her and illumine her grave. This was her Qur‘ân, her prayer mat and this was the spring rose-colored dress that she told me she would hide until she got married, the dress she wanted to keep just for her husband. I remembered my sister and cried over all the days that I had lost. I prayed to Allâh to have mercy on me, accept me and forgive me. I prayed to Allâh to keep her firm in her grave as she always liked to mention in her supplications. At that moment, I stopped. I asked myself: what if it was I who had died? Where would I be moving on to? Fear pressed me and the tears began all over again. Allâhu Akbar, Allâhu Akbar... The first adhân rose softly from the Masjid, how beautiful it sounded this time. I felt calm and relaxed as I repeated the Muadhdhins call. I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders and stood to pray Fajr. I prayed as if it was my last prayer, a farewell prayer, just like Nûrah had done yesterday. It had been her last Fajr. Now and insha’Allâh for the rest of my life, if I awake in the mornings I do not count on being alive by evening, and in the evening I do not count on being alive by morning. We are all going on Nûrah’s journey what have we prepared for it?

What Words Could Never Say In the garden of my heart, Allah, you placed a tiny seed; And the faith that grew from it Was a gift from you to me. The wonder of your love Is such a mystery to me For I will never understand What you saw in me. Allah, I fail so many times, Yet you always stay by me; And when I stumble in my walk, You come and set me on my feet. So where do I begin? Are there any words to say How you’ve changed my life so much And made me new in every way? No, I’ll never find the words, I must choose another way; So I’ll show you with my life What my words could never say.

thank you layla... I found this poem in my e-mail account..it was sent to me by a friend 2 years ago adn I just had to post as a joke...because it was sent as a joke so i'm not really serious about it. But we all need some one to love us...its all part of human nature. peace and luv

lol...exdane girl I know what your talking about...guys with their simple minds its easy to trick them...

BEDTIME PRAYER...... Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray for a man, who's not a creep. One who's handsome, smart and strong. He's not afraid to admit when he is wrong. One who thinks before he speaks. When he promises to call, he doesn't wait 6 weeks I pray that he is gainfully employed, Won't lose his cool when he's annoyed. Pulls out my chair & opens my door, Massages my back & begs to do more. Oh! Send me a man who will make love to my mind. Knows what to say when I ask "How fat is my behind?" One who'll make love till my body's a' itchin'. He brings ME a sandwich too, when he goes to the kitchen! I pray that this man will love me to no end, And would never compare me with my best friend. Thank You in advance and now I'll just wait, for I know You will send him before it's too late. Amen

You did it this time darman....teh mnpls Police dept aint got nothing on me...you sill going down...watch your back...I could be anywhere. Adoo t.v iska fiirsanaayo oo madaxaada ku ag yaalo aa la'arki doona...hayeey

I';ve been looking for cds by keynan but I can't seem to find it. Anyone in mnpls know where I can get them?

Under dog...if you re-read the post you will see that I did not say that all women are like this. I am only describing the qualities that a good women should have. I have no problem with praising men but this topic just happens to be about women....So if this topic makes me a feminst then so be it. peace and luv

Darman thats the price you pay for pissing me off....remember that next time I see you on the streets peace and luv

Feminist tone? It all depends on what you consider feminism? This post has nothing to do with being a feminst just about understanding and appreciating strong females. Now under dog I am for women and I believe in their abilites in every aspect of life..so does that make me a feminist? And about my other posts...I don't remeber them so I can;t comment peace and luv

Darman I should have known....lol...damn....if you had done that to me walaahi madaxada jidaka dhiniciisa kalee asoo kasoo qoslaayo aa l'arki lahaa...then lets see you try to piss girls off with no head

What in the hell is so great about MN? It aint all that... kidding This is my State and I love it... with all its somali people...you gotta feel right at home here. peace

Clown...tell me where and when and i'm there peace

Hibo....from what I know about you i would say your safe Ruba ...Thank you..nobody is perfect but all you can do is try. Underdog...oooooooh are you feeling left out I'll tell you what...wherever it says woman why don't you mentally substitute your name...how about that? ...will that make you feel better Underdog.....this topic is not meant to insult men...you need to realize that if the opposite sex is being praised that does not take away the good qualities from the other sex. peace and luv

How well you nomad sisters fall into this discription? Is this how you see your self....peace and luv How To Recognize A Good Woman A good woman is proud. She respects herself and others. She is aware of who she is. She neither seeks definition from the person she is with, nor does she expect them to read her mind. She is quite capable of articulating her needs. A good woman is hopeful. She is strong enough to make all her dreams come true. She knows love, therefore she gives love. She recognizes that her love has great value and must be reciprocated. If her love is taken for granted, it soon disappears. A good woman has a dash of inspiration and a dabble of endurance. She knows that she will at times have to inspire others to reach the potential God gave them. A good woman knows her past, understands her present and faces toward the future. A good woman does not live in fear of the future because of her past. Instead, she understands that her life experiences are merely lessons meant to bring her closer to self-knowledge and unconditional self-love. (Author Unknown)

I don't think her actions are justified at all...Although the mistress was at fault...if your going to hit someone the husband should have been the one going through surgery. I personally don't see what the big deal is....shouldn't your dignity be worth more than a man?!!!

Simple woman adn bisad I agree with both of you. The love you feel for your family or friends has to be different from the love you feel for your husband/man. You love your family/friends but are in love with your husband/man....this does not mean that one feeling is stronger than the other..but that they are different emotions being felt and cannot be compared. peace and luv

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sept 22) You are the logical type and hate disorder. Your sh*t-picking attitude is sickening to your friends and co-workers. You are cold and unemotional and often fall asleep while f*cking. Virgos make good bus drivers and pimps. lol...lol dang!!!I fall a sleep?!!!who knew!! The rest is some what true except for the part that says i'm unemotional...used to be but now i'm like a freaking well of emotions. peace and luv