Found 7. 2 sentences matching phrase . Translation memories are created by human, but computer aligned, which might cause mistakes. They come from many sources and are not checked. ![]() A part or portion belonging to. Red Hat, About the Filesystem Structure. Shareable files are those that can be accessed by various hosts; unsharable files are not available to any other hosts. Discover tips and tactics to help you create shareable images that will increase social media engagement and drive website traffic.![]() PDF Online is a set of free web-based PDF creation and PDF conversion services, powered by the best PDF SDK - API (works with C++, ASP.NET, Java, etc). How to Make Facebook Posts Shareable by Micah McDunnigan. All Facebook posts are sharable by the users you allow to see them. Stockbyte/Stockbyte/Getty Images.
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Soggade Chinni Nayana review - The Hindu. One wouldn’t think that a hero in a Telugu film, that too enacted by an established actor, would need lessons in romance. ![]() ![]() Doesn’t go with the acceptable image of a hero, isn’t it? Imagine the hero being so clued into his tablet that he doesn’t notice a bunch of guys taunting his wife. A perfect recipe for disaster. Debut director Kalyan Krishna makes Nagarjuna, who still gets tagged with the romantic label, to take up this part. The nerdy doctor, Ramu (Nag) is now in the territory once inhabited by his father Bangarraju (Nagarjuna, again), an incorrigible flirt. Ramu and his wife Sita (Lavanya) are heading towards the former’s village to meet his mother Satyabhama (Ramya Krishna). A lady who hitches a ride with them blushes when she learns that Ramu is the son of Bangarraju. Bangarraju was all that Ramu isn’t — an eternal charmer known for his swagger, panchakattu and he rode a Bullet sporting branded sunglasses and puligoru on his chain. There’s one mysterious Krishnakumari at the mention of whom Satyabhama flares up and is sure Bangarraju is rotting in hell for the heartburn she had to go through. Labels like Manmadhudu and other adjectives are showered on Nagarjuna. In any other film or with any other actor, this kind of praise would have looked out of place. Soggade Chinni Nayana is a joy ride into this world of contrasts, the rural setting becoming the perfect foil for native sensibilities to take over. Music by Anup Rubens and cinematography by P. ![]() S. Vinod and Siddharth complement the rural flavour. The courtyard brims with the chatter of family members, children run around, there’s talk of gorintaku, chillies are set out to dry and amidst all this, there’s Ramu who’s glued to his laptop or tablet. The fun begins with the supernatural thread of the story. Bangarraju is permitted by lord Yama (Nagababu) to visit his wife as a soul and help her set things right in the family. The onus is on him to infuse some romance into Ramu’s life and save his marriage. Once Bangarraju arrives, we get an idea of his erstwhile antics. There’s more than romance at play. Bangarraju has to face the truth about his death, and the lurking danger for his family. The film dwells on the lessons in romance for a long time, until the folklore style murder mystery takes over. Nagarjuna is in top form and in the company of Ramya Krishna, sets the screen on fire. Soggade Chinni Nayana wasn't made to change the face of cinema. It was a movie which from its outset was determinedly made for Sankranti, keeping the festive spirit. There are no critic reviews yet for Soggade Chinni Nayana. Keep checking Rotten Tomatoes for updates! Audience Reviews for Soggade Chinni Nayana. Soggade Chinni Nayana. 31,735 likes · 42 talking about this. Welcome to the Official Page! The two actors are like old flames and sparks fly when they come together. Ramya’s character shows no let up in vanity and is the right match for Bangarraju. Lavanya Tripathi comes up with yet another graceful and confident portrayal. She expresses the angst of a lonely wife well enough to draw empathy. It doesn’t take much to identify the conniving mastermind who wants to wreck havoc on Bangarraju’s family. Yet, the subplot of the temple jewellery and a protecting snake are engaging. Soggade Chinni Nayana Full MovieAnushka Shetty appears in a surprise cameo. And there’s Brahmanandam who gets a fun role after a few lacklustre outings. He gets beaten up, but not by Nagarjuna. Soggade Chinni Nayana is set in a familiar, comfort zone and guarantees a lot of fun. Soggade Chinni Nayana. Cast: Nagarjuna, Ramya Krishna, Lavanya Tripathi. Direction: Kalyan Krishna. Music: Anup Rubens. Story line: An enigmatic father returns as a soul to help his son and family. Bottom line: A fun ride that capitalises on Nagarjuna’s charisma. Rating: 3. 5 stars. Please Wait while comments are loading.. See the full list of Soggade Chinni Nayana cast and crew including actors, directors, producers and more. Watch Soggade Chinni Nayana (2016) Full Movie Online for FREE. Watch Soggade Chinni Nayana Online Free DVDRip, Download Soggade Chinni Nayana (2015 Telugu) Full Movie, Watch Online Mp4 HDRip BR 720p Telugu Film. Soggade Chinni Nayana Title Song Trailer . Soggade Chinni Nayana Movie Teaser / Trailer. Soggade Chinni Nayana (2016) is an Indian Telugu-language supernatural drama movie directed by Kalyan Krishna and produced by Nagarjuna Akkineni. Soggade Chinni Nayana Telugu Movie Review. Soggade is Nagarjuna’s one man show as the script, character and look suits his real life persona big time.
Love Sick: One Woman's Journey Through Sexual Addiction (now available in paperback)The following is the first chapter of Love Sick (W. W. Norton), a memoir by Sue William Silverman. ![]() If you wish to read a description of Love Sick, please click on . Today, even though I promised my therapist I wouldn. I cut the engine and air conditioner and listen to stillness, to nothing, to heat. Sunrays splinter the windshield. Heat from the pavement rises, stifling, around the car, around me. No insects flutter in the brittle grass next to the lot. A neon rainbow, mute and colorless by day, arcs over a sign switched to vacancy. Only the little girl from India, daughter of the motel owner, invigorates the stasis. Holding a string tied to a green balloon, she races down the diving board and leaps into the swimming pool. With the windows closed, I can. For a moment she disappears. The balloon gaily sways above the water. The Fiddler Book About Debugging with Fiddler, Second Edition. The fully revised and updated guide to the Fiddler Web Debugger. It's written by Eric Lawrence, the. 123 Books: Hi - my name is Richard Pickering and I'm the Founder of PaperBackSwap. I have two kids and reside in Atlanta, Georgia. I came up with the idea. Ronald Kessler, New York Times bestselling author of books about the Secret Service, FBI, and CIA. The girl pops to the surface. She begins the game again. The girl. Still, I sense no darkness, no cool shadows, no relief from the scorching Georgia heat. Rather, a harsh light, white as a sheet, penetrates my lids as if I am caught in an unforgiving glare. I worry the girl by the pool will see me. I should leave here now. I should drive home and rinse pink gloss from my lips, wipe mascara from my lashes, change out of my too- short skirt and too- tight black lace blouse. I should cook a nourishing dinner for my husband. I should grasp the balloon and let it waft me across the sky, far from my implacable need for men. Not physically dangerous. Emotionally dangerous. These men see me just as an object, a body. They are men incapable of love- even though I endlessly, addictively, try to convince myself that sex at noon for an hour with a married man has to be the real thing, must be love. So I can. One last fix. Name: Email ID : Would you like us to keep you updated on the new books authored by Prof Kev Nair? Just send us your full name and email address through. The paperback of the #1 New York Times Bestseller Mastery is in stores now and available on Amazon. And as a thank you to my fans who made Mastery such a success, I. The Marriage Bargain (Marriage to a Billionaire Book 1) and over one million other books are available for Amazon Kindle. I should drive to the rehab unit and find my therapist right now. Pausing outside the door of room #2. I hear the television: a car crash, urgent voices. I turn the knob and lock it behind me. Rick lies on the sheet smoking a cigarette, the remote beside him. An ash drifts onto the pillowcase. He clicks off the television and beckons me closer. A gold necklace nestles in his blond hair, a rich glitter of gold on gold as if chain mail emblazons his chest. Lying beside him, I curl short strands of his hair around my finger as if, in all this incandescence, we radiate love. His Eau Sauvage cologne is the only scent in the world I will ever need or want. I close my eyes, drenched in it. Sex, a sweet amnesiac. The elixir drains through my body, thin as a flame. I crave this, need him- or You, Man, whoever You are- until I. I can hear the second hand of his watch ticking beside my ear. His breath numbs the hollow at the base of my neck. Sweat gathers on his temples. The necklace taps my chin as he fucks me. ![]() But this is just a repetition of all the other times with Rick. Just the missionary position. ![]() Sometimes sixty- nine- but all Rick wants is to get the job done. Quickly. Not that I mind. I do this for love. Except I feel a damp chill between my shoulder blades- thinking of all the times my spine has creased this mattress- so many mattresses. The second hand ticks. He pushes up on his elbows, his head above mine. He glances down, focusing more on my torso than on me. I touch his throat with the tip of my tongue. His skin tastes like salt water and indigo. My limbs feel weighted with leaden male gravity. I feel as if I sink below water, far beneath a night sea. Can? How can love be two bodies wrapped in a sheet that? Here in a room when, by one o. He aims it at me, still lying in bed, my head propped on the pillow. In the flash I am dazed, as if I. For out here, loose in the world, I haven. My neck down to my knees. For only when my body is desired do I feel beautiful, powerful, loved. I feel shy, embarrassed, exhausted. Yes, as if I am less than a body. For right now my body seems to exist only in this Polaroid. For months, like a mantra, my therapist has told me, . He explains that I confuse sex with love, compulsively repeating this destructive pattern with one man after another. I do this because as a girl I learned that sex is love from my father, the first dangerous man who sexually misloved me. Usually after a scary binge. His son was home from school with the flu, and Rick took the day off from work to stay with him. Rick and I undressed in the bedroom he shares with his wife, while his son slept in his room down the hall. The door to the bedroom locked. But then I heard a small sound: his son crying. Rick heard him, too. I expected Rick to rush to him. Instead, we would read his son a story. I wanted to read his son a story. Give him a glass of water. I wanted to give him a glass of water. Press a washcloth to his cheeks. I paused, sure I felt his son. He needed his father. His father didn. What I then forced myself to know was that this, this one careless act of sex, was more important to Rick than his son. And because I, too, couldn. In a moment of clarity I realized that, while the sober part of me wanted to attend his son, a tangled, humid, inescapable part stopped me. Time stalled: with Rick. More: I confessed that I. All I want is to sleep it off. My footsteps sound hollow. My mouth tastes contaminated, metallic. The little girl and her green balloon are gone. Without her energy, the pool is a flat, glassy sheen. Driving from the lot, I pass the neon sign, silently spelling rainbow motel. I should never return here; yet I can. For what I do in room #2. I believe, a man would love me . Andrew sits erect, solid, focused on a Braves baseball game on the portable television, while I hunch over my plate. Andrew takes angry bites of an overdone hamburger, the third one I fixed this week, and canned string beans, all I managed to prepare after returning from the motel. I nibble at an edge of hamburger and spear one bean onto my fork. I put it down without eating. Looking at all the food, I think I might be sick. Fumes from the motel seem to rise from the hem of my skirt. My body feels sticky and smudged. Andrew seems not to see, pretends not to notice, this mess that is me. But he never asks questions. He is too afraid of the answers. He wants me to be industrious and smiling. I worry, even with therapy, I won. His six- foot body fills the doorway. Nothing to clean from Andrew. I squeeze Ivory liquid soap onto the sponge and wash several days. With a Brillo pad I scour the long- encrusted broiler pan. I sprinkle Comet in the stained sink. I want to do more: mop linoleum, polish hardwood floors. I want to try harder to please Andrew. Now, tonight, I feel the burden of calling my parents, the burden of going to the hospital, press against my back. I pick up the telephone and dial my parents. My mother answers on the second ring. Even though my parents know I. Whenever I visit, once or twice a year, we still eat dinner on pretty Wedgwood plates the way we always did. We are silently confused with each other, or else we speak as if no one heard my father turn the doorknob on all my childhood bedrooms . There is a pause before she answers, . She calls to my father, who picks up the extension. They are paying for my therapy sessions, and I want them to think they. Ironically, they want me to feel better even as they never ask why I need therapy in the first place. He knows I fuck men because it. About you. The back of my neck is sweaty, and I coil my hair around my fist. Quizzle, my cat, jumps on the couch and curls beside me. I barely hear my voice. My stomach cramps: with hunger, with fear. I mean, I know you can. Like a conference call. No contact with Rick, either. All you give are presents. You gave me as a present. By feigning illness and staying in bed, your eyes shut, the door closed, you could pretend not to notice how you made me available to your husband- a gift- a little- girl wife. Even though the last time my father touched me sexually was when I left home for college some twenty- five years ago, it feels as if I. You know how cold they keep those places. I grew up in pretty houses decorated with art objects my father bought on his many travels; how easily our family hid its secrets behind carved wood masks from Samoa, straw fans from Guam. How successful we seemed, with elegant tea sets from Japan, silk curtains from Hong Kong. Now Andrew and I have nice antiques, an Oriental rug, watercolor paintings. I was raised to believe that if a family appears perfect, it must be perfect. I have tried to keep up appearances. I open the door to Andrew. He is an English professor, and he sits at his desk grading student papers. I lean over his shoulder and wrap my arms around his chest. I tell him I called my parents, that my father hung up, that my mother worries I. Bookcases jammed with volumes by James Joyce, Thomas Pynchon, Tolstoy, Cervantes, Jane Austen, Derrida, Riffaterre, Kant, line the walls like thick insulation. He is writing a book of his own, evolved from his dissertation. I have typed the manuscript several times for him, several revisions. I have proofread it twice. Yet I only have a vague understanding of what it. I want to say: Look at me! I want to crack the silence of our marriage and reveal to him the complete reason my therapist says I must enter the hospital now: to be sequestered, quarantined, from men. For I believe if he sees the real me, he. All he knows for sure is that I. Let me know you made it okay. The attic fan whooshes air from the basement up through the house and out the windows, out the vents in the gable. The house feels vacant. Andrew sleeps directly below me in a king- sized bed. I roll onto my stomach in my narrow bed and press my fingertips against the wood floor. I want to feel a quiet vibration from his breath. I want to tiptoe down the stairs and slip beneath the covers beside him. I want the scent of his freshly laundered sheets on my own body, his clean, strong hand to hold mine. I want to feel a reassuring, constant presence of this man labeled . Ordinary married life is too tame and mild. Kitchen, Laundry, Home Appliances & Accessories. Mealtime. In no time, from start to clean. The Time- Saving Frigidaire. Consumersenergy.com BillingNABP is the independent and international association that assists its member boards for the purpose of protecting the public health. ![]() ![]() ![]() Materials developed by Consumers Union's advocacy offices on a variety of consumer issues, including health care, financial services, food safety, and product safety. Frigidaire specializes in offering high-quality, energy efficient kitchen and laundry appliances. Discover the best home appliances at Frigidaire.com. Continue to Fraud.org for info on new and classic scams, prevention tips, to sign up for alerts, and more. Get trusted, science-based resources for your food safety education outreach! From infographics to activity sheets, you’ll find something to reach. 5/29/2017 Watch Poe: In His Own Words, An Evening With Edgar Allan Poe online with english subtitles in 1080Read NowVideo - IMDb. Find industry contacts & talent representation. Manage your photos, credits, & more. Showcase yourself on IMDb & Amazon. 1hr 17minBiography - Edgar Allan Poe: The Mystery of Edgar Allen Poe 2004. Poe: In His Own Words: An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe 2016. Poe supplements this “scant” rev. See 105/19-22 for his own poem. Poe: In His Own Words, An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe 1h. Search for "Poe: In His Own Words, An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe" on Amazon.com. In His Own Words, An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe: Trailer - Trailer for Poe: In His Own Words, An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe. 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Mahjong News - Saying Goodbye to Edoardo Prosperini. Edoardo Prosperini. BOLOGNA, Italy - In the last year, even after treatment, he was still at the club, trying to hold together the people to be able to continue playing the classic method, which he defended at all costs. Edo was a great organizer, a gift that had developed in his business (and which had led to high summits and with great satisfaction) and poured in all his other interests. He had practiced for years gliding, to become president of a major club, and to join his other pleasure and people of mah jong, organized for some years the tournament at the venue delll'aereovolo. But he had also organized a race at the Castello Sforzesco in Milan and I'm sure that would successfully collected the invitation that had been done by FIMJ to find a formula to revive the Italian method. I met Edo almost twenty years ago and besides playing with and against him I was able to have long conversations on many different topics, finding him increasingly informed and competent. Despite having a character sometimes so strong as to seem edgy, it was with great generosity, which was able to express in many ways, the world of his factory and in general to the friends of mah jong. If it was a club assembly to present the budgetary situation, he wanted to offer dinner to all participants and so many other things. In addition to the races in various circles, he organized a weekly game at his house and here guests exquisite showed what was in the game the best, trying to get from each hand maximum possible double. I want to remember when the last Italian championship, as president and captain of the Red Dragon, he clung to Angela, Antaeus, Oscar and I to raise the cup just won, showing a joy that for someone like him, used to have on their work well other satisfactions, seemed almost childlike. Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube. The Last Goodbye Edoardo the Last Goodbye. 2016 0 Sub Never The Last Goodbye. 2014 0 Sub Never Edoardo the Last Goodbye. 2016 0 Sub Never Last Goodbye. Michael Lerner news, gossip, photos of Michael Lerner, biography. Edoardo the last goodbye: 2015: Priest Don Luigi (rumored) Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past. Edoardo the Last Goodbye. Writers: Marco Bernardini (novel. Edoardo the Last Goodbye - 2016 - Subtitles. There are no subtitles available for Edoardo the Last Goodbye at the moment, try to update the subtitle crawler. But anyhow this was the man Edo, the player, the President, the friend and counselor of all. To Monica, that before you have the joy of two beautiful twins, shared constantly with Dad Edo pleasure of mah jong, we send our warmest embrace and promise that we will not forget. Ciao Edo. Stephen. Among his results we want to remember the third place in 2. Red Dragon in 2. 01. FIMJ - Italian Federation Mah Jong. You. Tube. Subscribe to Explosm! ![]() Harmonix Music Systems: A City Sleeps. A stylish, music- driven shoot . When the residents of San. Lo fall into an endless slumber, only Poe can rescue them from a never- ending nightmare. Equipped with her legendary Koto- sword “Heartstrings”, and flanked by her stable of powerful ghost familiars, she must cleanse their dreams, and uncover the city’s dark secrets. Driven by an unforgettable original soundtrack that builds through player actions and enemy engagement, A City Sleeps infuses classic twin- stick hardcore shoot . Music drives player projectiles, enemy spawning, movement, and bullet patterns. THE “IDOL” SYSTEMGet tactical! Use Poe’s ghost familiars to possess inanimate objects of the dream world; these “Idols” will assist you against an endless enemy horde. The soundtrack builds as you leverage a range of both offensive and defensive abilities including AOE damage bursts, and healing bullets. While the city sleeps Men are scheming New ways to kill us And tell us dirty lies While the city sleeps Earth is crumbling Everyone talking And doing not a thing. Experiment with different ghost combinations to compliment your own personal play style. GIVE UP THE GHOST!! Reverie, Lucid, Nightmare; multiple difficulties for all skill levels. Buff Poe with equip- able relics and unlockable ghosts types for a tactical advantage, or take a stab at the re- mixed “Cursed” variants for an even greater challenge!(Available now for PC and Mac on Steam.). City Sleeps is an alternative rock band from from Atlanta, GA. The band started touring nationally in an attempt to build interest in themselves. While the City Sleeps entices readers to explore fiction and nonfiction, the interplay of light and dark, the shadows of the human soul and the brightness of the. While the City Sleeps is a 1956 film noir directed by Fritz Lang. Written by Casey Robinson, the newspaper drama was based on The Bloody Spur by Charles Einstein. With The City Sleeps In Flames, Scary Kids Scaring Kids aimed for individuality amongst their tracks, and they nailed it.
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