It's great fun to read me such questions. Joy wakes up with heart, really. Meaning, think, how many questions do you get in which the invitation is to the 'I' of my half-life, like a pufferfish? And here is the invitation to become a press-spokeswoman of all the men's castes ... Hi, I can die from such a huge hospitality ...
Answer: My big boredom is full, which will be seen later. Since Google has foreclosed me for three days continuous rain in the hills, then a fun episode reminded me of the bread crumbs in the rainy season and the joy of tea because of the rain, reading this question, Listen to him first:
In London I had two students from the famous London School of Economics in the Next Apartment. One Arabic was from Libya, the second was Slavic breed from Poland. Every third day, both men came here to me, at night, red wine bottles and big pizzas ... maybe they were enjoying it by convincing me repeatedly that their father has shed money in the lane. Send to the sons in
Both used to pub every weekend to get tuned with their friends (I was also occasionally dragged into beer and vodka to see my brain becoming yogurt). And 50-60% of the chances were that both of them would return with their 'bride one night', and would spend so much time on the bed all night that I would not want to scream at the wall even if I did not want to: Abe o Salo, gold two! Mute the volume of your porn movie, for God's sake!
The funny thing was that when the next morning in the corridor, both of them used to walk by bye-bye to their own brides, then I used to notice that whatever girl came to take the Polish Bandar, it was almost always ugly. Meaning, many times so much that the captivating tympanic nostrilic typed tympanum made in the painting of Picasso can be remembered.
One evening during the pizza-wine session I asked the brother, why did that happen? So, by styling the glasses from the big stature down from the nose, tell me with my gray-blue eyes, the Polish saying: There is no lack of beauty in a prisoner, unless there is no shortage of alcohol in the bondage of bondage.
Now tell me ... what kind of logic of the ant arguments like me in front of the 10-times high and sacred truth from this Kailash Parbat?
Well, in the answer to the question, I will say that my 'I' access is not universal but only to me. So, in my eyes, the beauty of a woman depends on what the relationship is.
If the relationship is going to remain confined to the bed-rolling-spinning, then the Polish standard's beauty standard favors them.The standard should ideally be Kind of Sunny Leoni or Above. If Katrina Kaif or Padukone, such as wet-cardboard pants, fall in love with the above-mentioned 'Kailash Parabatia' truth, it is a shame.
There is a relationship of friendship, then there is no standard beauty - it is a beautiful woman. Just open minded, bereft of laughter, be helpless, so every woman is beautiful in the open sky of friendship. Naughty long, thick thin, black, yellow, blond, blue all ... talking, do not get stink with mouth, yes.
If there is the talk of Gurdas Mann's 'Dil Da Kiya Hai', then 'Sunny Leoni or Above' condition should not be applied, but in the name of beauty, there is a strange, unfriendly, innocent man, Grace, in a woman. So much so that his absence could be seen ... so much so that his childhood and helplessness must be necessarily pampered rather than being shy or angry - like a casual, pleasant surprise.
Thank You,
Regards,
