₦airaland Forum

@ Bay1970,


No wonder na 1970 dem born you, the next thing be say you wan know the colour of the pant she dey wear everyday

Dem dey sell flower for nigerian sef

So many sick people here , and what the Bleep does that have to do with me, why not try a party, perhaps that would solve your freaking jealousy

Been groomed to take over from the hairdresser , I heard he went to some powerful universities, how can one verify this detail?

Hmmm, always good to see nigerian players doing well and most of all lets hope they all come back home

Poster,

You must be a joker , why wont they watch the premiership!!!! how would they answer questions at the embassy when attending interviews for their visas, besides why watch the la liga, nigerians dont go to spain ,

If Your Boyfriend Steals To Satisfy You, how funny, why not give him the address of the CBN, who knows he might just be lucky

well, simple, i just walked up to the babe and i told her; oh baby , i really want to know whats up and i was wondering if me and u could get together someday. oh baby, u look so delicious and tantalizing. Baby tell me, how would u feel because i would like to take u to places where u only see on the t.v and buy u things that u can't even pronounce. All you have to do is come take a ride with me in my uncompleted mercedes benz. Please baby i really want to be your man., the next thing, she started laughing oo. please what did i say wrong? You people are not helping matters because u are not giving me any latest lyrics,


Lick-69, are you vietnamese by any chance

Poster,

Peeps always say "when you go black you never go back" but in this case i will say when u try houseboy rod, you forget the husband

Guys find babe's slaps therapeutic, it might be insulting but it triggers blood to shift downwards the body making the third leg attentive

How interesting!!! wake up in the morning the next thing is start thinking what colour of rope/tie to commit suicide with , if only we can stop copyin them white peeps

Hmmmm, i really dont care what channels come up to be sincere , as long as they show the lastest porn flick, he relaxes ma stress levels

Depends how you define the woard failure, in nigerian context failure means ur inability to to know people upstairs or money to bribe them examiners

I kindda like it, it turns me on , im no pervert though

hmmmmm, something good to think about, atleast seems we still have clean bedsheets in nigerian hospitals

of cos i would, if you can supply me with some nice arab chicks, i know i would die a happy dude

Ebano

omo na wa for you oo

A LOVE LETTER

I was riffling through my old things the other weekend:
Secondary school note books, undergraduate files and
somewhere in my notebook for PhiChemBi
(pronounced FI-KEM-BA): Physics, Chemistry, Biology). I'd
come across a true relic from the past: a love letter I'd written to
the
first girl I was supposed to have loved. How the letter survives till
today
is a comment on my personal habits. I don't keep diaries - I've
always
thought that only mean people do - but I never fail to keep
documents.
Letters, ordinary notes, office memos are carefully hidden away
somewhere in
my unending file of documents. I sometimes thought it is junk but as
it happened
that weekend, I encountered a document which recalled past memories.
The
keeping of junk probably has its uses after all.

The letter in question is not an ordinary letter. It is the
first letter I'd ever written to any girl. It was also written in a
particular style. As secondary school students, we had our own way of
doing
things. A form three student as we then were who was just being
introduced to
the mysteries of science and agriculture, invariably felt that a love
letter
was a good forum to show off his erudition. Every love letter was
scrutinised by one's circle of peers. For the writing of this
particular letter,
I had no fewer than 10 advisers. The letter kept going back and forth
with
each person, adding his own line. Our objective was simple: that the
girl to whom is was addressed should fall head over heels in love. We
had high
hopes that the letter would do the trick. You probably also once
wrote
such a letter.

it is as follows:

At school, July 10, 1982 My dearest, sweetest, fondest,
fantastic, extra-ordinary, paragon of beauty a.k.a Yetunde. I hope
this
letter meets you in a fabulous state of metabolism, if so doxology.
My
principal aim of writing this letter to you is to gravitate your mind
towards a matter of global and universal importance, which has been
troubling
my soul. The matter is so important. Even as I am writing, my
adrenalin
is 100 per cent on the Richter scale, my temperature is rising, the
windvane of my mind is pointing North, South and East at the same
time; the mirror
in my eyes has only your divine image. Indeed when I sleep, you are
the
one in my medulla oblongata, and I dream about you. I went out to sea
in my
dream, and I saw you: surrounded by H20 and you in your majesty rose
from
the abdomen of the sea like Yemoja, the avatar of beauty. Oh, Lord be
with us!
We are thy servants.

As you can see, I am in a serious dilemma. And I want you
to take my matter seriously. At this junction, what our Lord said on
this
matter is germane. He says we should ask, and we shall be given, we
should
seek and we will find, and that we should knock, and it will be
opened unto
us. I am this 10th day of the seventh month in the year of our Lord,
one
thousand, nine hundred and eighty two, asking, seeking and knocking
at
your door. My prayer is that thou should open so that thy servant can enter. I want to wake up in the morning and see only your face.

I want you to be the only sugar in my tea, the only fly in
my ointment, the butter on my bread, the grey matter of my system,
the
oxygen in my head, the planet of my universe, the wall clock of my
room. The
conveyor belt of my soul. I pray that you realise the gargantuan
nature of
my predicament. If you refuse, my life will be like tea without
sugar, like
a snail without shell, a Xmas goat without a horn; in fact I'd become
an
orphan. In fact I'd kill myself. What is life if I can't wake up in
the
morning and behold your face? You model of pulchritude, patiently
created by
God on a Sunday morning before he went on a deserved holiday. Please
Yetunde,
let me be your Romeo. Make me the Adam to your Eve. Shakespeare said
it
all: if music be the food of love, play on. I want to emphasise,
universally
and responsibly, that you are love itself. You are the
metaphor, oxymoron, thesis, antithesis, irony, gerund, conjunction
and the
adverb of love.

At this juncture, let me also say that geography of your
body is a permanent allelluia. Not from your body, ammonia, urea and
iodine- you are too beautiful for that, what I see in your body is
milk and
honey. At this juncture, brevity is the soul of wit. A stitch in time
saves nine. Procrastination is the thief of time. An opportunity once
lost can never be regained. Make hay while the sun shines. All that
glitters
is not gold. The journey of a thousand years begins with a step. What
God
has put together let no man put asunder. To be a man is not an easy
task
even if God's time is the best. But time waits for no one. A man
without love
is like a fish out of water. I know you are a sagacious girl. If you
like
the veracity of what I am saying, please fill the attached form and
let me
have it pronto. The mark at the bottom of this page is a kiss from me
to
you.

I remain Your beloved, faithful, loyal, One and only
admirer.

The attached form, which has become brownish with age, is
itself a study in youthful naivety. It contains such questions as
what is your name? Age?
Do you have a boyfriend? If yes, please state why? If no, please
explain?
Do you love me? If no, state why. If yes, doxology.
What is your hobby?
Which is your favourite food?
Mother's occupation?
Father's occupation?
Are you from a polygamous home?
Is your father rich and handsome?
Is your mummy also a paragon of beauty like you?
What do your parents want their son-in-law to become in life?

I could not stop laughing. Imagine the kind of things we
did as small boys. Asking a girl to fill a form! The questions and
the idea of
it strike me, in retrospect as plainly stupid but at the time,
writing
such letters to unsuspecting girls was the centre of our world. I
confess
that I was a consultant in the matter. All my friends wanted me to
help
them write their love letters. And whereas they succeeded with their
letters, my own letters never brought any results.

This particular one (I must have written over 30) was never
sent. What happened I recall, was that there was a change of
strategy.
The consensus was that I should speak to the girl directly. I was
scared!
My friends insisted, however. I was coached for days without end.
Whenever we wanted to put theory to practice, my heart would beat so
fast that
I became tongue-tied and I'd develop instant fever. One day, I
finally found the courage to do it. It was a disaster. I went up to
the girl,
sweating profusely:
>
"Excuse, I want to tell you something" (this took at least
10 minutes)
"Yes"
"I think I am in love with you. I want the two of us
to, (this took not less than 20 minutes, the sentence was completed
with a
sign, indicating boy-girl relationship)
"No, I don't want," the girl replied.
"Why now?" (another five minutes)
"I don't know"
"okay, thank you." (less than one minute And I took to my heels

PLEASE use this. It's important people know why 600 Lebanese have died. More will. Consider this.
Bush refers to the wider region. He doesn't mean the Middle East, but the Caucasus -- the area between the Black Sea and Caspian Sea.
Draw a line from Lankaran, Azerbaijan to the Mediterranean coast south of Beirut. Then read The Next Oil Frontier in BusinessWeek online. Chevron was first, the company that named a ship after Condoleeza Rice, then a Director.

What's REALLY going on?

Medube


Thats some scary shit you gat there dude (link)

The US and the UK were the creators of Zionism (Balfour decalaration). How ironic that they are now the ones allowing the continuation of bloodshed at the hands of a cruel and overzealous country which should not have even been put there in the first place.
Its good to see that in this day and age, vested interests still overrule justice. And the US and UK wonder why they are the two biggest targets for international terrorism

The Israeli Ministry of Lies, I mean Truth, needs to come up with a new handbook of propaganda for its people to quote whenever anyone criticizes its war crimes, genocide, ethnic cleansing, colonization, apartheid policies, racism, aggression etc etc. The old classics-"terrorist, anti-Semite, self-defense, surgical precision, everyone hates Jews so we needed to steal someone else's land and build a morally superior society"-are kind of, well, OLD. Entertain us with some new BS, please.

Texazzpete, perhaps watching Indecency would do you good, rather than watching foxnews or cnn

Gadd!!!!!Where is Hitler when he is needed

Mr Chxta,

I really dont know where you paste or copy your analysis from , neither do i seem to understand the concept of it all.

Without their hi-tech gadgets Israeli IDF does not stand a chance against Hezbollah. Hezbollah are not the cowards, IDF is. Hezbollah cannot be wiped out as it is an ideology not a mere militant group. Brute force never succeeds (e.g Vietnam).
Negotiations goes along way. However, Israeli attitude can be summed up by Ariel Sharon’s comment to Daily Davar newspaper in Dec 1982 of wiping out the entire Arab population. I rest my case.

Gadd!! why did'nt  Hitler finish this job once and for all.