Vous avez cherché: always up to some sort of a mischief (Anglais - Tagalog)

some sort of
for now sort of the house

they are always up to someting
lagi na lang may nakakatuwa

they have some sort of checkered history together.
mero silang pinagdaanan.

ramone is running some sort of money skimming operation.
si ramone ay may ginagawang money skimming operation.

love to learn and always up to a challeng while also working efficiently seeking employment develop and excel while giving best to an employer
gustung-gusto na malaman at palaging hanggang sa isang hamon habang nagtatrabaho din ng mahusay sa paghahanap ng trabaho bumuo at magaling habang nagbibigay ng pinakamahusay sa isang employer

you make me feels some sort of ways never loved so much it pains when i'm with you
you make me feels some sort of ways never loved so much it pains when i'm with you

if each day of a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me
kung ang bawat araw ng isang bulaklak ay umaakyat sa iyong mga labi upang hanapin ako

they must have had some sort of fight at the party and then things got out of hand and ivan shot elliot dead on the spot.
meron siguro silang pinag-awayan noon sa party at binaril ni ivan si elliot.

the shareholders of a corporation are only liable up to the amount of their investments. the corporate entity shields them from any further liability.
mga dahilan para sa mga korporasyon eminent advantage

use of a warm-air hand dryer spread micro-organisms up to 0.25 metres from the dryer.
ang paggamit ng warm-air hand dryer ay magkakalat ng mga mikroorganismo hanggang 0.25 metro mula sa dryer.

there are a few questions that come to mind regarding a pregnant woman's right to live and to raise her child when she has been convicted for some sort of crime: what is it like for them to be pregnant and have their child behind bars?
may mga ilang katanungan na naiisip tungkol sa karapatan ng mga nagdadalantao na mabuhay at palakihin ang kanilang anak kapag sila ay nakulong dahil sa isang krimen: ano ang pakiramdam nila kapag nagdalantao sila at nanganak sa loob ng bilangguan?

market integration is a term that is used to identify a phenomenon in which markets of goods and services that are somehow related to one another being to experience similar patterns of increase or decrease in terms of the prices of those products. the term can also refer to a situation in which the prices of related goods and services sold in a defined geographical location also begin to move in some sort of similar pattern to one another. at times, the integration may be intentional, with a go
tagalog

honestly, i don't know where to even begin my mind is currently a complete vortex of thoughts racing and crashing into each other.that means this will be a messy explosion of thought to paper.im hoping this will help me make sense of things, or at minimum provide some sort of relief as journaling always used to.
sa wakas ay nagpasya akong magsulat ng isang bagay na natatakot akong isulat ang aking sariling mga saloobin sa papel na hindi ko talaga alam kung bakit, marahil ito ay kung paano ako nag - cringe tuwing nanonood ako ng pelikula at malakas na binabasa ng narrator ang kanyang entry sa papel tulad ng cliche na siya ngunit natanto ko, whatevs, ito ang aking mga saloobin.

.to achieve a united approach to agency goals through integrated planning and constant coordination among all units. 3to develop of a more efficient up to date system for the collection, collation and analysis of data relative to probation, parole and suspended sentence case loads, and their management.
.upang makamit ang nagkakaisang diskarte sa mga layunin ng ahensya sa pamamagitan ng pinagsamang pagpaplano at patuloy na koordinasyon sa lahat ng mga yunit. 3upang bumuo ng isang mas mahusay na napapanahon na sistema para sa at ang pagkolekta, pagkolekta at pagsusuri ng data na may kaugnayan sa probasyon, parol at nasuspinde na mga pagkarga ng kaso ng pangungusap, at ang kanilang pamamahala.

a low art [excerpt from the penelopiad] by margaret atwood (canada) now that i’m dead i know everything. this is what i wished would happen, but like so many of my wishes it failed to come true. i know only a few factoids that i didn’t know before. death is much too high a price to pay for the satisfaction of curiosity, needless to say. since being dead — since achieving this state of bonelessness, liplessness, breastlessness —i’ve learned some things i would rather not know, as one does when listening at windows or opening ot her people’s letters. you think you’d like to read minds? think again. down here everyone arrives with a sack, like the sacks used to keep the winds in, but each of these sacks is full of words —words you’ve spoken, words you’ve heard, wo rds that have been said about you. some sacks are very small, others large; my own is of a reasonable size, though a lot of the words in it concern my eminent husband. what a fool he made of me, some say. it was a specialty of his: making fools. he got away with everything, which was another of his specialties: getting away. he was always so plausible. many people have believed that his version of events was the true one, give or take a few murders, a few beautiful seductresses, a few one-eyed monsters. even i believed him, from time to time. i knew he was tricky and a liar, i just didn’t think he would play his tricks and try out his lies on me. hadn’t i been faithful? hadn’t i waited, and waited, and waited, despite the temptation — almost the compulsion — to do otherwise? and what did i amount to, once the official version gained ground? an edifying legend. a stick used to beat other women with. why couldn’t they be as considerate, as trustworthy, as all-suffering as i had been? that was the line they took, the singers, the yarn- spinners. don’t follow my example, i want to scream in your ears — yes, yours! but when i try to scream, i sound like an owl. of course i had inklings, about his slipperiness, his wiliness, his foxiness, his — how can i put this? — his unscrupulousness, but i turned a blind eye. i kept my mouth shut; or if i opened it, i sang his praises. i didn’t contradict, i didn’t ask awkward questions, i didn’t dig deep. i wanted happy endings in those days, and happy endings are best achieved by keeping the right doors locked and going to sleep during the rampages. but after the main events were over and things had become less legendary, i realised how many people were laughing at me behind my back — how they were jeering, making jokes about me, jokes both clean and dirty; how they were turning me into a story, or into several stories, though not the kind of stories i’d prefer to hear about m yself. what can a woman do when scandalous gossip travels the world? if she defends herself she sounds guilty. so i waited some more. now that all the others have run out of air, it’s my t urn to do a little storymaking. i owe it to myself. i’ve had to work myself up to it: it’s a low art, tale-telling. old women go in for it, strolling beggars, blind singers, maidservants, children — folks with time on their hands. once, people would have laughed if i’d tried to play th e minstrel —there’s nothing more preposterous than an aristocrat fumbling around with the arts — but who cares about public opinion now? the opinion of the people down here: the opinions of shadows, of echoes. so i’ll spin a thread of my own.
isang mababang kwento ng sining sa tagalog