"Putul" is a word in HILIGAYNON, CEBUANO
putúl - Maimed; having a part cut off;
short, shortened; to maim, cut off (a finger,
member, etc.). Putúl nga sárwal. Short
trousers. Napútlan (naputulán) siá sing
isá ka túdlò, sing bohók, etc. He had a
finger, his hair, etc. cut off. (cf. pungól,
púnggul, potól.
putul v {1} [A; a1] sever with a bladed instrument or by snap-ping.
Dì makaputul ang ákung ngípun sa hílu, My teeth cant break the thread.
Putlag kaduha arun matulu ka pútù, Cut it twice to make three pieces.
{1a} [A; a12] cut down.
Kinsay nagputul sa mangga?
Who cut the mango tree down?
{1b} [A; b7] cut s.t.
out of s.t.
Ákung giputlan ang pálu kay taas ra, I cut a length from the mast because it was too long.
{1c} [A; a] cut s.t.
out of s.t.
Giputul sa sinsur ang mga báhing law-ay, The censors cut out the lewd parts.
{2} [A; a2] break a connection.
Giputlan mig sugà, Our electricity was cut o?
.
{3} [A12; a] cut s.t.
short.
Naputul ang ámung isturya pag-abut sa mga bisíta, Our conversation was cut short by the arrival of the visitors.
{3a} [A12; a1] put an end to s.t.
Putlun ku ang ímung ngil-ad nga batásan, Ill put a stop to your bad manners.
a {1} s.t.
cut o?
from s.t.
or s.t.
which had s.t.
cut o?
of it.
Putul ug íkug ang irù, The dog has a stubbed tail.
{2} the other one of two things which had been cut from one piece.
Háin man ang putul ári?
Where is the other piece of this stick that had been cut in two?
sa adlaw half a day.
sa píkas a quarter.
{3} s.t.
said in cutting in.
() v [C; c16] divide s.t.
into, between two.
Mag-pútul ta ánang isdà, Let us divide that fish between us.
n ug tinái sibling.
Pútul mu ug tinái, búsà ayaw mu pag-áway, You are sisters, so dont quarrel.
putulputul v [A; a] cut into small pieces.
putulpútul v [B16] be intermittently discontinuous.
a intermittent, discontinuous.
Putulpútul man tung salída nga sikan ran, The second-run movie kept being interrupted.
ig-() ug tinái n relative.
Igpútul ku siya ug tinái, She is my relative.
ka-, ka-() n the other half of a piece cut o?
.
Sighing, I scooted down in the booth and pulled away my hand. “You can’t control everything. It’s like you’re a finished product and I’m a brand new idea. You’re making all the decisions about who I can be and what I can do, but I can’t make any decisions about who you are.” “Well, for one thing, I’m not eighteen. For another, you have control over how I feel and that’s still power. Finally, maybe you grew up with a boot on the back of your neck so you need all of this independence to feel like you’ve accomplished shit, but you need to get over that. I take care of the people I love. My money can make your life easier and that makes my life easier. I’m not molding you and I don’t think you need molding anyway. The only difference between us is that I know I’m a finished product and you think you still need to change. You don’t and working this weekend so you can buy new clothes you don’t need won’t make you better. It won’t make you stronger or smarter. It’ll wear you down and give you a false sense of accomplishment. In the long run, your grades will suffer and you’ll hate your job and school and, God forbid, me.” “I’ve dreamed of this life for a long time and I want it to be like my dream.” “Dream bigger, baby.” “You mean dream of you.” “A dream with me in it, yes, but I know you want to be a teacher. I see on your face what that means to you. I’m not saying give up everything for me and be my bitch. I’m saying live your dream along with being my bitch.” “Fuck you,” I hissed, grinning. Cooper shared my smile. “I have to protect you. I have to feel like I’m doing right by you because my heart hurts when you aren’t happy. The last day sucked worse than any time in my life. I just couldn’t give two shits about anything because I’d lost you.” “I don’t know. I still feel like I should work this weekend.” Cooper sighed for nearly a minute then shook his head. “Healthy relationships are about compromise. Don’t work this weekend and go to the fair with me and I’ll buy you new clothes. See, compromise?” “You get everything you want. How is that compromise?” “I’m buying you new clothes that I don’t think you need,” he said, grinning. “I’m wasting money on your delusion. You’re welcome.” Laughing, I finished my soda then stood up. “I’ll think about it.” “And say yes when I take you home later.
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