That's what they've been using all the illegal money they have been withdrawing from my account to do. Robbing Peter to pay Paul. Read my hilarious diary on the link below. If you don't laugh, send me your address, I'd send you PIZZA. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

AntiWailer:


Seriously. U mean I should click one link per person ?

Go and learn from Stella how to have dedicated blog readers

Stella who?

Read my hilarious diary on the link below. If you don't laugh, send me your address, I'd send you PIZZA. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

Lol... It takes some guts to do that. If your husband is the Jagaban himself, you are gutted. Carry on lolo Tinubu. Your husband has paid the price.

Read my hilarious diary on the link below. If you don't laugh, send me your address, I'd send you PIZZA. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

Awesome. Read my hilarious diary on the link below. If you don't laugh, send me your address, I'd send you PIZZA. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

He needs to replenish his creativity... Cut him some slack. Read my hilarious diary on the link below. If you don't laugh, send me your address, I'd send you PIZZA. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

This one EFCC is correcting grammar... They might soon call funke Akindele for questioning. Chai Read mad stories here. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

My name is Psalm. Yes, awkward right? But that’s the name my mamma called me when I was born. My Dad had wanted to call me Job, but my mamma would not have it.

“Have you seen any man called Job that wasn’t a carpenter or a bricklayer” she had fired at my dad. “All the people wey dey answer Job na so so suffer suffer!” Mamma certainly hadn’t heard of Steve Jobs (well, after he moved out of the garage). Plus my oldman had suffered much, having lived from hand to mouth since he lost his job thirty years ago, yet his name wasn’t Job. So there was more to suffering than being called an ordinary name.

“Let’s call him David” my momma had suggested. “It is simple and short. And remember he killed Goliath.”

“David? The man who stole another man’s wife? I can’t call my son David. All the people wey dey answer David too like woman!”


Mamma had thought of it and the lives of a few people bearing David in my neighbourhood had been enough to convince her. In fact two days before I was named, two married men had fought over a woman on the street, and they were both called David.

After much dilly dallying, they called me Psalm. Popsy wasn’t so excited about the name; David and Psalm were like Bobrisky and bleaching - One and the same. But in the end he accepted it. So that was how I got my name, one would think after all the hair-splitting deliberations that gave birth to my name, my name would at least bring me luck. Far from it. I don suffer pass nyash. Yes. I have been peed on, shit on, sat on and what not…

Yesterday was the day kasala burst for my head. I was on my way to an interview. Since 5 years wey I graduate, bros, I never see real job. But that yesterday, something told me that was the end of my job search. My girlfriend had linked me to a friend that had friend who was the GM in a manufacturing company. When I contacted the so called GM, he picked the phone and answered me like a vampire had given him a Mouth Gig.

“Who be rat? He spat out.

“It’s me Psalm. A friend of Sarah, who is a friend to Akpan, your good friend. He said you are the GM of Green food Industries.”

I could hear him chuckling on the other end.

“Werin you wan make I ju for you?” he replied. I was already getting pissed.

“I want to submit my CV to your company. I was told you could help me get a job”

“Bring am tomorrow, I go help you give the GM”

“Are you not the GM?

“Bro e be like say you never ready. I be the Gateman, your friend no tell your friend to tell your friend to tell you?

My jaw dropped. But I had no choice; I tidied my white shirt and dusted my CV. I must get that job the next day...

As early as 8 AM the next day, I set out. My gf had made a delicious afang soup the other night. I quickly heated four wraps of fufu, devoured it and left feeling like a bouncer. It had rained the other night and the bad roads were still muddy. I did my best to avoid reckless drivers from splashing dirty water on me. My best, as usual, was not enough.

A man in a black prado Jeep zoomed past, emptying a pot hole of muddy water on me. I did what any other frustrated man would do.


I boarded a bike and chased after him. Who knows, he could settle me with something tangible. The okadaman was a skillful rider but the prado guy had no chill. After five minutes, I spotted his car parked right in front of my babe’s apartment. Fear catch me like politician wey receive alert from Dasuki. I paid off the bike man and cautiously peeped into my girlfriend’s one room apartment. What I saw shocked me.

The story continues http://9jachannel..com.ng/2017/03/diary-of-frustrated-graduate-2.html

[img]http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1748667698796141&set=gm.290308594736336&type=3[/img]
THEMADMAN'SBLOG

[img]https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1748667698796141&set=gm.290308594736336&type=3[/img]
THEMADMAN'SBLOG

AngelicBeing:
Nice soup, salivating already

Read hilarious stories THEMADMAN'SBLOG

Visit my blog and bookmark it. the story continues. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

Incrizz:
Comical.

Except for slight on pastors.

Visit my blog and bookmark it. the story continues. THEMADMAN'SBLOG

kentochi:
wow!

The next day, we all assembled in the restaurant and the boss announced that the money that would be spent fixing all the damaged property was in fact higher than the profit we had made. So he had no choice than to break open the charity box and take some for the repairs.

He told Funke to get the box from his office where I usually keep it after work. Then he paid me 15,000 naira as my monthly salary. It was supposed to be twenty but he said the month wasn’t over so he couldn’t pay me for services I did not render. When they were about to break the box, he told me to pick my stuff and leave. He didn’t want me to know how much was in the box. So I left.

[img]http://2.bp..com/-EAHe3J-PPqw/WNA8FWBCHcI/AAAAAAAAGXU/rwbgD-cqrksHNVARlw_8vfs5WO1GoQl0ACK4B/s1600/Screenshot%2B%2528123%2529.png[/img]


When I got home, I brought out the real charity box and broke it. I counted the money; it was about fifty seven thousand naira. Bros, I am rich. You may be wondering how I had the box with me. May be you have forgotten, I made two of those boxes. After the scuffle of the previous night, I went up, left the empty box in my boss’ office and took the real one home.


I folded the money and kept it inside my inner suit pocket. You might want to say I should hand over the money to charity, that it is wrong to take what belongs to the poor. Well, you are right. But Charity’s money is my money too. On the box, I had written T and C apply. Under the box I wrote out the full terms and condition. It clearly says. “All proceeds of the money shall go to Charity, Psalm’s mother. And in her absence, Psalm, being her next of kin, shall take full possession of the money.”

Well, there you have it. Like Davido who said his father’s house was his house too, I am saying, Charity’s money is my money too. And if you are among those that visited the hotel and gave generously, pele, next time read the terms and condition. There is a reason companies like MTN write their Terms and Condition where you won’t see it.

And if the chicken-change you put inside the box, dey vex you too much, I am on a Danfo going to Ikeja City Mall. Come and beat me.

[img]http://2.bp..com/-cO8wYZ7-NlM/WNA65_Voq1I/AAAAAAAAGWo/FNLTjCmYrpI7nLtm6n_AEb0MCJWifPUBACK4B/s1600/Screenshot%2B%2528120%2529.png[/img]

My plan worked after all. If not for that randy pastor, I would have made close to a hundred thousand naira. I don’t want to mention the pastor’s name, but the girl he slept with is Stephanie, so it is anyone’s guess who he is.

Please, I want to start an oil company with the fifty thousand naira. I need ideas, Comment below.

Watch out for the sequel, “Mobile Hoil Company”. Chai, my brain dey scratch me. Read more here THEMADMAN'SBLOG

Thanks. I am working on hiring someone to redesign it. What about the content? Do you it could gather dedicated readers? THEMADMAN'SBLOG

ElizaVeta:
Could you please change the backgroud color to white and texts black?

The present color is dull..

or just change your theme template to Awesome Template inc

Heromaniaa:
Pls check out my blog. I tell very original and crazy stories there. Tell me if it is worth it. If you are not prepared to laugh... Pls don't open the blog. www.9jachannel..com

ElizaVeta:
My dear, it has always been.

Pls check out my blog. I tell very original and crazy stories there. Tell me if it is worth it. If you are not prepared to laugh... Pls don't open the blog. www.9jachannel..com

I need to buy one for my girlfriend; I don't like nice phones.

Read funny stories here THE MADMAN'SBLOG

My name is Psalm. Yes, awkward right? But that’s the name my mamma called me when I was born. My Dad had wanted to call me Job, but my mamma would not have it.

“Have you seen any man called Job that wasn’t a carpenter or a bricklayer” she had fired at my dad. “All the people wey dey answer Job na so so suffer suffer!” Mamma certainly hadn’t heard of Steve Jobs (well, after he moved out of the garage). Plus my oldman had suffered much, having lived from hand to mouth since he lost his job thirty years ago, yet his name wasn’t Job. So there was more to suffering than being called an ordinary name.

“Let’s call him David” my momma had suggested. “It is simple and short. And remember he killed Goliath.”

“David? The man who stole another man’s wife? I can’t call my son David. All the people wey dey answer David too like woman!”


Mamma had thought of it and the lives of a few people bearing David in my neighbourhood had been enough to convince her. In fact two days before I was named, two married men had fought over a woman on the street, and they were both called David.

After much dilly dallying, they called me Psalm. Popsy wasn’t so excited about the name; David and Psalm were like Bobrisky and bleaching - One and the same. But in the end he accepted it. So that was how I got my name, one would think after all the hair-splitting deliberations that gave birth to my name, my name would at least bring me luck. Far from it. I don suffer pass nyash. Yes. I have been peed on, poo on, sat on and what not…

Yesterday was the day kasala burst for my head. I was on my way to an interview. Since 5 years wey I graduate, bros, I never see real job. But that yesterday, something told me that was the end of my job search. My girlfriend had linked me to a friend that had friend who was the GM in a manufacturing company. When I contacted the so called GM, he picked the phone and answered me like a vampire had given him a Mouth Gig.

“Who be rat? He spat out.

“It’s me Psalm. A friend of Sarah, who is a friend to Akpan, your good friend. He said you are the GM of Green food Industries.”

I could hear him chuckling on the other end.

“Werin you wan make I ju for you?” he replied. I was already getting pissed.

“I want to submit my CV to your company. I was told you could help me get a job”

“Bring am tomorrow, I go help you give the GM”

“Are you not the GM?

“Bro e be like say you never ready. I be the Gateman, your friend no tell your friend to tell your friend to tell you?

My jaw dropped. But I had no choice; I tidied my white shirt and dusted my CV. I must get that job the next day...

As early as 8 AM the next day, I set out. My gf had made a delicious afang soup the other night. I quickly heated four wraps of fufu, devoured it and left feeling like a bouncer. It had rained the other night and the bad roads were still muddy. I did my best to avoid reckless drivers from splashing dirty water on me. My best, as usual, was not enough.

A man in a black prado Jeep zoomed past, emptying a pot hole of muddy water on me. I did what any other frustrated man would do.

I boarded a bike and chased after him. Who knows, he could settle me with something tangible. The okadaman was a skillful rider but the prado guy had no chill. After five minutes, I spotted his car parked right in front of my babe’s apartment. Fear catch me like politician wey receive alert from Dasuki. I paid off the bike man and cautiously peeped into my girlfriend’s one room apartment. What I saw shocked me.


Read the next part here http://9jachannel..com.ng/2017/03/diary-of-frustrated-graduate-2.html

Read funny Nigerian stories on my blog or you can click my signature to read it on Nairaland. The stories are so funny you'd pee in your pants just reading it. No copy and paste, simply original.