My friends here is a link to use Emojis to make your great posts even better just copy and paste no need for apps enjoy lots of love ❤️

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On Language // Excuse US for Living

On Language
// Excuse Us for Living

On Language

My Pet Peeves: “Existential” & “Geopolitical”

What’s Yours?

by

Philip Fontana

Pet peeves.

Excuse us for living, but no matter our age, we all have our little “pet peeves” along the way of life. It sounds petty to complain about such small things in this uncertain political time in which we live; not to mention the horrific natural disasters around the nation and the world, along with acts of terrorism and gun violence. – – I’m depressing myself just writing this.

That being said, putting all that aside (impossible), there must be things, some smaller things, that bother you. I’d be very interested to hear what your “pet peeve” is in the comments section below! You might, for example, hate bloggers like me who would better spend their time reading instead of writing! – – I’ll vote for that one myself! What I have in mind are a few things regarding language usage largely in the news media which have annoyed me in recent years. I thought the time I spend writing this “Excuse Us…” might be well spent researching them.

Philosophy Department: You are Here...But why?

My number one nomination as something that drives me nuts is the use of the term “existential,” usually “existential threat” or “existential crisis,” but never-the-less “existential…,” with this or that tacked on! – – “Existential problem, existential menace, existential pandemic.” (That last one is a whopper!) – – You name it! It’s “existential” whatever it may be. And the egregious offenders are the news shows (that used to be called “news programs”) coming out of the mouths of the hosts and their guests, not affectionately referred to as “talking heads.”

The term “existential” is not only misused but overused and complicated by its roots in the philosophical term, “existentialism.” Such phrases as “existential threat” and “existential crisis” are used more as clichés, as intensifiers much like the misuse of the word “literally.” Use of the term “existential,” apparently, came from the German form “Existentialismus” in 1919 and came to the English language in 1941 by dropping the “us.” To oversimplify, existentialism is a 19th-20th century philosophy. It questions “how and whether life has meaning, and why we exist,” stressing the importance of “freedom and will instead of reason in confronting problems.” (Anyone remember their college Philosophy 101 or Political Theory 101 and the name Jean-Paul Satre?)

And so, the adjective “existential” does have its roots in the philosophical “existentialism.” The word “existential” can be defined as “of or relating to existence.” When, for example, the phrase “existential threat” is used in political discourse, it refers to “a threat to a people’s existence or survival.” The best I can do to sum up this discussion is to say that when the word “existential” is used on the political talk shows, it makes reference “to survival or to the meaning of our lives.” – – Personally, I still think they throw it in for flare, emphasis, as a cliché. It’s a phrase that should be used with more discretion, in my opinion, and not for verbal flourish!

C Geo Prof

My second pet peeve, again from the political talk shows, is the use of the term “geopolitical.” Now, as a student and teacher of history and political science, I fully understand what they are talking about. But clearly the term is misused and overused. Their use of the term has nothing to do with any geographic aspects whatsoever.

Strictly speaking, at the risk of oversimplification, “geopolitical” refers to “the study or application of the influence of political and economic geography on politics, national power, foreign policy, etc., of a state… or region.” Despite this meaning, speakers misuse the term to make their statements, adding a global flourish to give more importance to their words.

Used correctly, “geopolitical” as an adjective relates to that which “geographical location – – more than culture, history, or ideas – – influences political developments.” In truth, typical uses of the term “geopolitical” in the news media are most often discussing the impact and implications of something globally, perhaps. That’s as close to geography as they get! – – Considerations of geography being far from what the speakers have in mind. Yet, the term “geopolitical” is thrown around, or thrown in, seemingly, for affectation, as a cliché, here once again as in my first pet peeve!

D Size PetPeeves

Excuse us for living, but that feels better! Now I know my annoyance with the use of these terms is justified. The next time I hear them used by people on the news shows I can yell back at the TV with informed, justified confidence! HOW ABOUT YOU???!!! What is a pet peeve or two of yours? I’d be interested to know! Let me know in the comments section below!

Comments: What is your pet peeve(s)?

Online Sources: theaquilareport.com, spectator.co.uk, learnersdictcionary.com, wikipedia.org, carnegieeurope.eu

http://excuseusforliving.com/2018/01/31/on-language/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

The Way Things Used To Be //The Lonely Author

The Way Things Used To Be
// The Lonely Author

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The Way Things Used To Be

Our home has become as lonely

as the last leaf on a dying tree

laughter no longer reverberate against walls

we consummated with our love

old arguments replay themselves endlessly

like a scratched record avoiding the next beat

the eerie shadows of who we once were

turn us into restless spirits of the night

as we haunt ourselves with stained memories of

the way things used to be

Photo from Google Images

DISCLAIMER: This is fiction.

https://thelonelyauthorblog.wordpress.com/2018/02/11/the-way-things-used-to-be/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

Implícitamente explícito

Implícitamente explícito
// Las crónicas del Otro Mundo

La-historia-interminable

Entender la década de los ochenta como la época de oro del cine familiar no parece una apuesta demasiado arriesgada. Al hacer memoria, podemos evocar sin esforzarnos demasiado películas míticas como Gremlins o recordar las aventuras de Los Goonies, pero probablemente el primer largometraje que nos venga a la cabeza tenga que ver con el viaje de Bastián a la tierra de Fantasía. Como ya habéis adivinado, nos referimos a La Historia Interminable, basada en la novela homónima de Michael Ende, obra que superó todas las expectativas editoriales y acabó siendo traducida a más de cuarenta idiomas. La película no solo se considera una joya de la fantasía, sino, sobre todo, de los efectos visuales anteriores a la aparición de las imágenes generadas por ordenador. Hay quien juzga que, en lo tocante a despliegue imaginativo en cuanto a marionetas robotizadas, maquillaje y diseño artístico, se trata de una obra superior a cualquier cinta contemporánea, pues la imaginación hoy en día, desgraciadamente, escasea. En conclusión: la conversión desde el papel al séptimo arte constituía un trabajo del que sentirse realmente orgulloso.

Tras visionar la versión cinematográfica de su manuscrito, Michael Ende no parecía demasiado conforme. Lo sospechamos ligeramente por afirmaciones relativas a los creadores de la cinta como “Les deseo que cojan la peste. Me engañaron de mala manera y lo que hicieron conmigo es una canallada y una traición artística. Si estuviera en mis manos hundiría esa película en el Vesubio”. Quizá no le faltase razón: a pesar del éxito en pantalla, paradójicamente hay quien defiende que esta puede tratarse de la peor adaptación cinematográfica de la historia.

Para apoyar esta afirmación, basta con lanzar la bomba informativa: en la cinta falta la segunda parte del libro. No hay mucho más que decir: independientemente de la opinión que se pueda tener de la película, la amputación de la mitad, literalmente la mitad, de la novela tan solo podía causar pavor en el autor de la misma. Mutilar de forma bárbara e inicua parte de lo engendrado en su mente, que para un escritor significa una parte esencial de su propia vida, debe ser la más dolorosa puñalada que puede recibir como profesional. Además, cientos de detalles de su obra fueron tergiversados para quedar mejor en pantalla y crear un producto más amigable para el público predestinado. La siguiente afirmación la compartimos todos los que hemos visto la película: descubrimos que Fújur, el dragón blanco de la suerte ideado con cabeza de león, tiene cara de perro. Dicho así, quizá no alcanzamos a imaginar la bajeza. Antes deberíamos tratar de entender adecuadamente que la criatura más mágica, más mitológica, más especial para la historia y para el propio escritor, en la que más cariño ha empleado a la hora de tallar su efigie, ha sido transformada por unos abyectos traidores en una mascota de andar por casa de la talla XXL. Resulta casi tan infame como que Bastián, el protagonista de la novela descrito como un niño gordo, débil y torpe, y no por capricho sino porque la importancia de que así sea el protagonista es vital, se nos presenta como un niño delgado sin cualidades negativas aparentes. ¿Acaso ya existía la dieta Dukan?

Demasiado horror para La Historia Interminable que plasmó Michael Ende, porque cada detalle de su novela iba dirigido a que su lector, el que debía ser el público real y probablemente exclusivo de su epopeya, la sintiese a través de cada página. Y para asegurarse de que su lector llegaba a su literatura, forzó que algunos elementos ajenos sobrepasaran su propio arte y su propia pluma. El símbolo de ÁURYN no solo aparece en el medallón que los protagonistas portan en la historia, sino que se encuentra en la portada del ejemplar físico al mismo tiempo que en las del volumen que Bastián lee dentro de la historia. Además, a pesar del sobrecoste que comportaba a nivel de publicación, la novela está escrita a dos tintas. Las partes del libro que transcurren en la realidad se encuentran grabadas en el papel en color rojo, mientras que todo lo que transcurre en el mundo de Fantasía se representa con letras teñidas de verde. Rojo, el color de la prohibición, el que aparece cuando otra persona o cosa quiere restringir el libre albedrío del conjunto de demás semejantes, para el mundo en el que Bastián se siente solo, incapaz, impedido para ser como le gustaría ser. Verde, el del fin de la prohibición, el que invita a continuar libremente, el que anula el anterior impedimento impuesto, para dar paso no solo a Bastián, sino a todo el que le acompaña tanto dentro como fuera de las páginas para adentrarse en un mundo mágico: un mundo que si el visitante desea contemplar está inexorablemente obligado a imaginar, porque nunca ha podido observar algo así en su realidad. Ende tenía muy bien atada su apuesta: entregó todas las herramientas posibles al lector para que viviese su historia tal y como debía hacerlo.

Pero, en realidad, no queríamos hablar de sus recursos metaliterarios. Más bien al contrario: pretendíamos demostrar cómo un escritor le puede gritar directamente al invitado que se ha asomado a su libro que esa historia es para él, porque sabe que esa persona entiende lo que significa realmente leer. Sin anestesia, sin apenas espacio para prepararse, a las pocas páginas de comenzar el ejemplar:

«La pasión de Bastián Baltasar Bux eran los libros. Quien no haya pasado nunca tardes enteras delante de un libro, con las orejas ardiéndole y el pelo caído por la cara, leyendo y leyendo, olvidado del mundo y sin darse cuenta de que tenía hambre o se estaba quedando helado… Quien nunca haya leído en secreto a la luz de una linterna, bajo la manta, porque Papá o Mamá o alguna otra persona solícita le ha apagado la luz con el argumento bien intencionado de que tiene que dormir, porque mañana hay que levantarse tempranito… Quien nunca haya llorado abierta o disimuladamente lágrimas amargas, porque una historia maravillosa acababa y había que decir adiós a personajes con los que había corrido tantas aventuras, a los que quería y admiraba, por los que había temido y rezado, y sin cuya compañía la vida le parecería vacía y sin sentido… Quien no conozca todo eso por propia experiencia, no podrá comprender probablemente lo que Bastián hizo entonces.»

Cuando te das cuenta, el autor del libro te ha hablado. Te ha dicho que su historia está hecha para ti porque, en realidad, eres uno de los suyos. Y si te gusta escribir, si aspiras a ello, puede que incluso le otorgues otra dimensión a dichas palabras. Otra en la que su arte puede incluso haber ridiculizado al tuyo. Puedes entender que le ha resultado tan fácil que incluso te sientes idiota, idiota al comprender que tú no podrías lograr ni en mil años esa conexión que a él, por lo que crees interpretar, no le ha costado demasiadas líneas conseguir.

Tres exiguas páginas después, a escasos segundos de que el autor decida sumergir al turista de las hojas en el mundo de Fantasía, un último párrafo en rojo te vuelve a hablar. Ende le permite a Bastián leerte la mente:

«Bastián miró el libro. «Me gustaría saber», se dijo, «qué pasa realmente en un libro cuando está cerrado. Naturalmente, dentro hay sólo letras impresas sobre el papel, pero sin embargo… Algo debe de pasar, porque cuando lo abro aparece de pronto una historia entera. Dentro hay personas que no conozco todavía, y todas las aventuras, hazañas y peleas posibles… y a veces se producen tormentas en el mar o se llega a países o ciudades exóticos. Todo eso está en el libro de algún modo. Para vivirlo hay que leerlo, eso está claro. Pero está dentro ya antes. Me gustaría saber de qué modo.»

Y quizá la siguiente sea la más errónea de todas las interpretaciones que hayáis leído o escuchado nunca, pero este cúmulo de frases, este cúmulo de ideas, no solo parece dedicado a un mero lector, sino también a cualquier escritor o a cualquier otro ser humano que, entre sus anhelos, incluya la aspiración de convertirse en uno. Puede ser el más demente de todos los análisis, pero, para el que lo quiera entender, o imaginar, o inventar, Ende insertó un mensaje cifrado, uno que parece bramar que cada historia la crea una persona y que, gracias a esta, esa historia está allí cada vez que las tapas de un libro son abiertas por manos ociosas y revisadas por ojos inquietos. Y sí, será el más alienado de los exámenes que nunca se le hicieron a dicho párrafo, pero este parece lanzar a los cuatro vientos un reto, desafiando de un modo implícitamente explícito a todo el que lo lee a que engendre y transcriba desde su cerebro al papel todo lo que sea capaz de vertebrar en su imaginación, para demostrar a Bastián de qué manera se ha llegado a conformar esa historia dentro de un libro que, al igual que él hace con su ejemplar de La Historia Interminable, alguien ha de abrir algún día.

Probablemente esta extravagante exégesis tan solo exista dentro de nuestras cabezas; no obstante, no debería resultar extraño que así fuese. Todo ser humano interpreta sus vivencias a través de una perspectiva personal y subjetiva, y que la presentada encima de este último párrafo se manifieste como chocante, si lo pensamos detenidamente, no resulta una gran sorpresa. Para las personas que poseen entre ceja y ceja la ambición de convertirse en escritores, una frase que pregunta “¿Por qué existe esta historia en este libro?” no es raro que reciba la inmediata respuesta de “Porque yo la he puesto ahí”. Por otra parte, Ende estaría de acuerdo. Puede que no en dicha interpretación concreta, pero sí en que otro ser humano, al leer sus letras, las interpretase según su propio punto de vista. ¿Qué otra cosa podría desear un escritor de fantasía sino que sus lectores dejasen volar su imaginación para darle una explicación a lo que leen dentro de sus cabezas? ¿Se podría descifrar el género de la fantasía de algún otro modo? No obstante, al igual que Michael Ende repite tantas veces hasta el mismo final de su novela,

«Esa es otra historia y debe ser contada en otra ocasión.»

https://lascronicasdelotromundo.wordpress.com/2018/02/13/implicitamente-explicito/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

AN OCEAN ! /A Brook !/ Why l Left Iraq And Immigrated To The USA.

AN OCEAN ! /A Brook !/ Why l Left Iraq And Immigrated To The USA.
// mysuccessisyoursuccess

WHY I LEFT IRAQ AND IMMIGRATED TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ?
==-=-=-=-=-=-=————————————————
Iraq is a Muslim COUNTRY ,its constitution like every Muslim country indicates that Islam is the official religion of the Country and its above the law.

As christian l was oppressed , hated , discriminated against .When l graduated with distinction from Baghdad University and was eligible for scholarship to Germany to get my Phd.

l was deprived of my scholarship because l am Christian and the education ministry gave the scholarship to 3 Muslims members of the Baa’th party (The party of Saddam Hussein).

In iraq and in the Middle-East in general there is hate pigatory ,envy, jealousy discrimination against Christians.

Once l got married and we had our first Child l realized that l can not let my children grow up and go through what l went through in a country that values its citizen not for being dedicated , and highly educated to serve his country , BUT for being Muslim Or Being Christian, .Of course The Muslim citizen is # 1 in a Muslim country.

THIS IS WHY I IMMIGRATED TO AMERICA WITH MY FAMILY.. We lived in Lebanon for 3 months to get our Visa from the American Embassy .We went through interview after interview , finger print , complete physical check up , paid the hospital 250 dollars and paid 150 dollars each for the Visa.Paid for our flights to Chicago 1200 dollars.

today l see from many people her in this gracious USA not a small brook or small river of HATE, ENVY , DISCRIMINATION , RACISM ,HYPOCRISY WHICH I LIVED IN IRAQ, BUT AN OCEAN OF THESE NEGATIVE HATEFUL FEELINGS AGAINST US FOR BEING Christians and value the American dream , Family values , decency, working hard., respect the laws and the constitution. .

BY THE WAY THE MUSLIMS WHO WERE SENT TO EUROPE TO GET THEIR PHD. FAILED AND RETURNED BACK TO IRAQ WITHIN 2 MONTHS .When l met them they said to me.”” They should send you not us””.l told them l am going to America..

Now our Daughter and our Son have their own families in this great country .l fulfilled my promise not to raise my children in a country where Hate is a religion for some people.

Jalal Michael Sabbagh=http://mysuccessisyoursuccess.wordpress,com Sabbagh

https://mysuccessisyoursuccess.wordpress.com/2018/02/12/an-ocean-a-brook-why-l-left-iraq-and-immigrated-to-the-usa/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

Storia illustrata

Storia illustrata
// Vultureşti

https://atdoru.wordpress.com/2018/02/20/storia-illustrata-1666/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

in the monastery a small and amusing hieromachy //johnpoetflanagan

in the monastery a small and amusing hieromachy // johnpoetflanagan

The monastery had two kinds of monk – Fathers and Brothers. Fathers were priests with university degrees first and four years of Theology after; Brothers were for the most part less academically qualified and often came from working class families, and on the whole were more down-to-earth and streetwise. Despite the holy environment of the order and in theory the good intentions there was always some friction between the two kinds; well, monks or not they were human, and brothers felt, usually quite rightly, priests looked down on them.
Father Nivard was a rotund, self-important pain in the arse and a self-confessed expert on every matter theological, angels balancing on the heads of pins and all that. No other monk, priest or brother, liked him, but Nivard – or Nivo as he was known – didn’t much care. He’d taken the name Nivard after Saint Nivard the 7th century Bishop of Reims, and had ambition to become abbot one day. After all, an abbot is a bishop.
Brother Laurence was Dublin working class through and through but after an adolescence of hanging out in back streets with other little chancers more than going to school he took a course in nursing and much to the relief and delight of his mother became an SRN. A few months later, he joined the monks, a move his mother considered a waste of career and a lost opportunity to make something of himself. Later, she conceded she had no right to question his decision and said to a neighbour, ‘Sure if it’s God’s will, it’s God’s will, and the call is the call.’
In the monastery, Laurence was in charge of Sick Bay, and the infirmary was the one place where monks were allowed to speak in case of any misunderstandings regarding ailments or treatments. Of course only the most devout kept silence in all other places, whispering was usual, fashionable even.
One time, Father Nivard came down with flu, a much less serious condition than the good theologian admitted. No one else’s bout of flu was as serious as his and instead of putting up with it till it passed he took to a bed in Sick Bay, and Brother Laurence had to attend to him. Nivard’s presence inconvenienced Laurence mightily, he couldn’t smoke in his usual corner or drink his bottles of Guinness or send the gardener into town to put five shillings each way on the 33/1 outsider running in the 2:30 at Kempton Park, all three practices he was supposed to have left behind the day he donned the cowl. He relayed to the gardener, a local hire, that he wouldn’t be availing of his purchasing and betting services until the priest was better and gone, and this news pissed the gardener off, he wouldn’t be getting his usual tips. ‘Shite!’ said the gardener.
As if Nivard’s presence wasn’t bad enough the priest expected to be waited on hand and foot and for the purpose of summoning Laurence had carried into Sick Bay with him a small bell which he rang with infuriating frequency.
‘What’s it now?’ Laurence would ask in the flattest voice he could manage.
‘Laurence, be an absolute darling and bring me another glass of cold water, and while you’re at it close the curtains completely, there’s a small shaft of light molesting my eyes, and do fluff up my pillows, you’ve not fluffed them since morning.’
Lurence would mutter something unmonkish and bring the water and close the curtains and fluff the pillows, muttering all the while.
Three days of tinkling bells and Laurence was at the end of his tether – no smokes, porter or horses – and the pain in the arse showed no signs of leaving. The end came when Nivard rang and said, ‘Laurence, be an absolute angel and bring me a nice pot of tea, scalding hot and properly strained, and in the good floral pot.’
Laurence looked at the pompous rotundity now sitting in a chair beside the bed and not a thing the matter with him and said, ‘Nivo, as long as you’re still consuming oxygen, and I must say you’re a disgraceful waste of oxygen, and as long as you’re capable of the vertical and are not on the permanent horizontal you can make your own fucking tea.’

The exchanges were overheard by a third monk with genuine reasons for being in the infirmary, and after his recovery and discharge he was more than happy to whisper details to the entire community, and beyond.
A hieromachy is a quarrel between clerics.

https://johnpoetflanagan.com/2018/02/18/in-the-monastery-a-small-and-amusing-hieromachy/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews

A Book by the Brook – Cricket in the Thicket | Friendly Fairy Tales

A Book by the Brook – Cricket in the Thicket

Brenda Davis Harsham

Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

— William Shakespeare

If you like poetry about creepy-crawlies, then Cricket in the Thicket is for you! I picked it up because you know I love critter poetry, and it didn’t disappoint. Written by Carol Murray and illustrated by the divine Melissa Sweet, it was full of wonderful art not to mention words, like this about dragonflies: “A lovely wisp, awash in blue, with light and lacy wings, a mini-glider….”

How can I resist a poem entitled “Dragons Fly the Sky”? This book refers to dung beetles as sacred and even finds love for cockroaches! The writer is a kindred spirit.

Click here for my Dragonfly Ode.

Notes: This is the first post in new series: a Book by the Brook. I plan to devour books like a ravenous grasshopper and share a few delicious bits with you.

If you like my bug plug, check out Cricket in the Thicket (Christy Ottaviano Books by Henry Holt & Co 2017).

Also, Happy Poetry Friday! Thanks to Jone Rush MacCulloch at Check it Out for hosting.

If you haven’t left a link to a found poem at Poetry Is… A Sunrise there is still time. The events in Florida made me too sad and angry to write a poem in Laura Shovan’s poem a day, but I will be back. After my head stops aching, and my heart is calm again.

Related

Pet WildIn “Photography”

Poetry Is… A RevelationIn “BlogHop”

Ferocious WomenIn “Poetry”

https://friendlyfairytales.com/2018/02/16/a-book-by-the-brook-cricket-in-the-thicket/

Editor says #AceNewsDesk reports & #Brittius says are provided by Sterling Publishing & Media News and all our posts, links can be found at here https://t.me/acenewsdaily and thanks for following as always appreciate every like, reblog or retweet and free help and guidance tips on your PC software or need help & guidance from our experts AcePCHelp.WordPress.Com or you can follow our breaking news posts on AceBreakingNews.WordPress.Com or become a member on Telegram https://t.me/acebreakingnews