New saturday super lotto numbers 10 Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Adier Palmer

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Hey Miss Toronto Acha tu nikuite wa ndoto Kwa ulivo'niwasha moto Nilipokukwachua ki lotto Nikajua nimekuwin ki Porto Nilivokupigania ki-willy kiRuto Sikujua ki-Willy kilikuwa kiwiliwili Yaani kama kiwiliwili cha Willy Nikakosa mpaka nguvu kwa mwili Nikabaki tu kuona mbilimbili Na kuzubaazubaa kitumbili Huh kukosa option mbilimbili Sikujua lotto ngekuwa ndoto Na moyo kuwa hard kokoto Kwa kujiumiza pain kiroboto Maisha yakasokonya misokoto Sikujua sijakujua Miss Koto Na hizo dreams zako za Tokyo |From Lotto to Ndoto| From Lotto to Ndoto

Hey Miss Toronto Acha tu nikuite wa ndoto Kwa ulivo'niwasha moto Nilipokukwachua ki lotto Nikajua nimekuwin ki Porto Nilivokupigania ki-willy kiRuto Sikujua ki-Willy kilikuwa kiwiliwili Yaani kama kiwiliwili cha Willy Nikakosa mpaka nguvu kwa mwili Nikabaki tu kuona mbilimbili Na kuzubaazubaa kitumbili Huh kukosa option mbilimbili Sikujua lotto ngekuwa ndoto Na moyo kuwa hard kokoto Kwa kujiumiza pain kiroboto Maisha yakasokonya misokoto Sikujua sijakujua Miss Koto Na hizo dreams zako za Tokyo |From Lotto to Ndoto| From Lotto to Ndoto

Adier Palmer

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Hey Miss Toronto Acha tu nikuite wa ndoto Kwa ulivo'niwasha moto Nilipokukwachua ki lotto Nikajua nimekuwin ki Porto Nilivokupigania ki-willy kiRuto Sikujua ki-Willy kilikuwa kiwiliwili Yaani kama kiwiliwili cha Willy Nikakosa mpaka nguvu kwa mwili Nikabaki tu kuona mbilimbili Na kuzubaazubaa kitumbili Huh kukosa option mbilimbili Sikujua lotto ngekuwa ndoto Na moyo kuwa hard kokoto Kwa kujiumiza pain kiroboto Maisha yakasokonya misokoto Sikujua sijakujua Miss Koto Na hizo dreams zako za Tokyo |From Lotto to Ndoto| From Lotto to Ndoto

Hey Miss Toronto Acha tu nikuite wa ndoto Kwa ulivo'niwasha moto Nilipokukwachua ki lotto Nikajua nimekuwin ki Porto Nilivokupigania ki-willy kiRuto Sikujua ki-Willy kilikuwa kiwiliwili Yaani kama kiwiliwili cha Willy Nikakosa mpaka nguvu kwa mwili Nikabaki tu kuona mbilimbili Na kuzubaazubaa kitumbili Huh kukosa option mbilimbili Sikujua lotto ngekuwa ndoto Na moyo kuwa hard kokoto Kwa kujiumiza pain kiroboto Maisha yakasokonya misokoto Sikujua sijakujua Miss Koto Na hizo dreams zako za Tokyo |From Lotto to Ndoto| From Lotto to Ndoto

Manisha

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Sketch: Lotto back cover!

Sketch: Lotto back cover!

Abinesh

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I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers

I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers