₦airaland Forum

jessejagga:
Thatz not right , how old is the dog

It's 7 months old yet it doesn't walk out of the house

I have a very shy male dog doberman. It gets shy when it sees people. Sometimes, it gets scared when my visitors are around and runs to safety. What should I do? Advise Pls.

I love big dogs

LET UNIBEN LEAD

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SUE THE BASTARDS

Elated, he pounced on her and flourished himself into her innermost recesses, pried into her in utter disregard for her dignity; less respect for her body. The tears in quietude evinced nothing but her disgust for the act. She shuddered in revulsion as every thrust agonized the deepest cockle of her heart. When he had had his fill, he fled. The exquisite agony that bedeviled her was the least of problems when she began to see tell-tale signs of anew woman- heavier breasts, swollen nipples, sickening barfing, and a queer bodily dysfunction. To top it all was the exponential departure of her monthly womanly testimony. What would she tell the baby?

DO YOU KNOW THAT A RAPE VICTIM IS NOT SUPPOSED TO PULL OFF HER PANTIES FOR 48 HOURS?

READ THE FULL ARTICLE BY CLICKING ON THE LINK BELOW:
https://possiblog./2016/08/02/sue-the-bastards/

EXCERPT FROM

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE STREET; TRUE STORY

Trust me when I say this… We were seriously beaten. Just then I called Mother. Yes, mother. Thanks to my eidetic memory as of then, one or two numbers came in handy as I learnt them by heart. She saved us both that day. What accompanied the release from detention was more. Shame, pain, despair, regret. I regretted going back. I hated the feeling that I was arrested and detained. Mother spent hell trying to bail us out. I hated the dim view she took of me afterwards. I was violent and vile. The aftermath of my regrets bore the records of my worst deeds, many of which I’m not proud of.
In my dark times, in my hood, the first thing I learnt was simple. People got your back only when you got theirs. Loyalty was what kept us going. Loyalty is the street. You ever wondered how the frustrated, the poor and the necessitous all survive? They all know what the big wigs will never learn- Loyalty, Respect for your fellow man, Unity and Cooperation. These are the lessons from the Hood. Loyalty is not what you practice when all is well. Loyalty is tested on the altar of conflict. Friends will say they love your poetry, your music, envy your taste in clothes, your wit- maybe they mean it, often they do not. Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit because gratitude is a burden while revenge Is pleasure. So-called friends will give you reasons for revenging and give excuses for not being able to show gratitude. For friends, there is almost a touch of condescension in the act of loyalty that secretly afflicts them. The injury comes slowly: A little more honesty, flashes of resentment and envy here and there and before you know it, friendship fades. The more you try to revive it, the less gratitude you receive. The rule of friendship is simple: Whoever cannot be undividedly loyal is not a friend. If he is not loyal as a friend, drop him off.

READ THE FULL STORY :
https://possiblog./2016/07/28/the-truth-behind-the-street-true-story/

Something to wake up with...
® The scribbler

ajasbaba:
so how many pre marital sex will you have,or will i say how many have you had and still counting,


that is how they end up without husband and later blame their neighbor at the village or devil that they can see.

EXCERPT FROM

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE STREET; TRUE STORY

Trust me when I say this… We were seriously beaten. Just then I called Mother. Yes, mother. Thanks to my eidetic memory as of then, one or two numbers came in handy as I learnt them by heart. She saved us both that day. What accompanied the release from detention was more. Shame, pain, despair, regret. I regretted going back. I hated the feeling that I was arrested and detained. Mother spent hell trying to bail us out. I hated the dim view she took of me afterwards. I was violent and vile. The aftermath of my regrets bore the records of my worst deeds, many of which I’m not proud of.
In my dark times, in my hood, the first thing I learnt was simple. People got your back only when you got theirs. Loyalty was what kept us going. Loyalty is the street. You ever wondered how the frustrated, the poor and the necessitous all survive? They all know what the big wigs will never learn- Loyalty, Respect for your fellow man, Unity and Cooperation. These are the lessons from the Hood. Loyalty is not what you practice when all is well. Loyalty is tested on the altar of conflict. Friends will say they love your poetry, your music, envy your taste in clothes, your wit- maybe they mean it, often they do not. Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit because gratitude is a burden while revenge Is pleasure. So-called friends will give you reasons for revenging and give excuses for not being able to show gratitude. For friends, there is almost a touch of condescension in the act of loyalty that secretly afflicts them. The injury comes slowly: A little more honesty, flashes of resentment and envy here and there and before you know it, friendship fades. The more you try to revive it, the less gratitude you receive. The rule of friendship is simple: Whoever cannot be undividedly loyal is not a friend. If he is not loyal as a friend, drop him off.

READ THE FULL STORY :
https://possiblog./2016/07/28/the-truth-behind-the-street-true-story/

Something to wake up with...
® The scribbler

sarrki:
Rip

EXCERPT FROM

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE STREET; TRUE STORY

Trust me when I say this… We were seriously beaten. Just then I called Mother. Yes, mother. Thanks to my eidetic memory as of then, one or two numbers came in handy as I learnt them by heart. She saved us both that day. What accompanied the release from detention was more. Shame, pain, despair, regret. I regretted going back. I hated the feeling that I was arrested and detained. Mother spent hell trying to bail us out. I hated the dim view she took of me afterwards. I was violent and vile. The aftermath of my regrets bore the records of my worst deeds, many of which I’m not proud of.
In my dark times, in my hood, the first thing I learnt was simple. People got your back only when you got theirs. Loyalty was what kept us going. Loyalty is the street. You ever wondered how the frustrated, the poor and the necessitous all survive? They all know what the big wigs will never learn- Loyalty, Respect for your fellow man, Unity and Cooperation. These are the lessons from the Hood. Loyalty is not what you practice when all is well. Loyalty is tested on the altar of conflict. Friends will say they love your poetry, your music, envy your taste in clothes, your wit- maybe they mean it, often they do not. Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit because gratitude is a burden while revenge Is pleasure. So-called friends will give you reasons for revenging and give excuses for not being able to show gratitude. For friends, there is almost a touch of condescension in the act of loyalty that secretly afflicts them. The injury comes slowly: A little more honesty, flashes of resentment and envy here and there and before you know it, friendship fades. The more you try to revive it, the less gratitude you receive. The rule of friendship is simple: Whoever cannot be undividedly loyal is not a friend. If he is not loyal as a friend, drop him off.

READ THE FULL STORY :
https://possiblog./2016/07/28/the-truth-behind-the-street-true-story/

Something to wake up with...
® The scribbler

EXCERPT FROM

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE STREET; TRUE STORY

Trust me when I say this… We were seriously beaten. Just then I called Mother. Yes, mother. Thanks to my eidetic memory as of then, one or two numbers came in handy as I learnt them by heart. She saved us both that day. What accompanied the release from detention was more. Shame, pain, despair, regret. I regretted going back. I hated the feeling that I was arrested and detained. Mother spent hell trying to bail us out. I hated the dim view she took of me afterwards. I was violent and vile. The aftermath of my regrets bore the records of my worst deeds, many of which I’m not proud of.
In my dark times, in my hood, the first thing I learnt was simple. People got your back only when you got theirs. Loyalty was what kept us going. Loyalty is the street. You ever wondered how the frustrated, the poor and the necessitous all survive? They all know what the big wigs will never learn- Loyalty, Respect for your fellow man, Unity and Cooperation. These are the lessons from the Hood. Loyalty is not what you practice when all is well. Loyalty is tested on the altar of conflict. Friends will say they love your poetry, your music, envy your taste in clothes, your wit- maybe they mean it, often they do not. Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit because gratitude is a burden while revenge Is pleasure. So-called friends will give you reasons for revenging and give excuses for not being able to show gratitude. For friends, there is almost a touch of condescension in the act of loyalty that secretly afflicts them. The injury comes slowly: A little more honesty, flashes of resentment and envy here and there and before you know it, friendship fades. The more you try to revive it, the less gratitude you receive. The rule of friendship is simple: Whoever cannot be undividedly loyal is not a friend. If he is not loyal as a friend, drop him off.

READ THE FULL STORY :
https://possiblog./2016/07/28/the-truth-behind-the-street-true-story/

Something to wake up with...
® The scribbler

1984; A TRUE LIFE STORY

My Mum was the first of 4 wives; 9 children from her sleepy stomach, 21 children all together. Mum with incomplete set of teeth, my father’s handiwork though. I didn’t like my mum really. She wasn’t the most beautiful of the wives, add to it,  she always quarrelled with my Dad. She always botched things up, I thought. She was a virago.. Yes, that’s the word; a truculent virago. I think I preferred Mama Peter. She was the 2nd wife of my father, a very beautiful woman. Went I was young, I usually had a fair view of her bosom when she took me to bathe in the absence of my mother. At 10, mama Peter still thought I was a baby so she would take me to her bathroom; more reason I live her. She was easier on my father’s eyes than any other of his wives.  Back to the story…

TO READ THE FULL STORY, CLICK THE LINK BELOW:

https://possiblog./2016/07/22/1984-a-true-life-story/

1984; A TRUE LIFE STORY

My Mum was the first of 4 wives; 9 children from her sleepy stomach, 21 children all together. Mum with incomplete set of teeth, my father’s handiwork though. I didn’t like my mum really. She wasn’t the most beautiful of the wives, add to it,  she always quarrelled with my Dad. She always botched things up, I thought. She was a virago.. Yes, that’s the word; a truculent virago. I think I preferred Mama Peter. She was the 2nd wife of my father, a very beautiful woman. Went I was young, I usually had a fair view of her bosom when she took me to bathe in the absence of my mother. At 10, mama Peter still thought I was a baby so she would take me to her bathroom; more reason I live her. She was easier on my father’s eyes than any other of his wives.  Back to the story…

TO READ THE FULL STORY, CLICK THE LINK BELOW:

https://possiblog./2016/07/22/1984-a-true-life-story/

seankay:
Kill those Gay bastards!!! So those young boys have all been defiled

you can imagine? those children will grow to either continue the line of gaiety or forever despise those monstrous psychopaths.

prelinctus:
This story is too one-sided. The man may have geniune reasons for doing so.

I second that... I don't think any reasonable man would do. dat to his wife. let's give fair hearing. there is more to it than meets our eye in this story.

ehya.... sorry bro. run for yuh life. she's cheating!

you even get mouth dey ask? if you ask ur father what will he say? if you ask your mother what will she say? except ur father is 67 and your mum is 50 and they told u they had sex 30 years ago then you can go ahead. mumu!

lolz.. u don old jare. pick up someone ur own size