₦airaland Forum

true45: hahaha actually saw that after it was already posted. maybe becuz of dat FP tinz no go happen

haha,anyhow sha

9. Fulfilling Life
Since a couple earns better money
it means that they can improve
their living condition and buy a
better house or apartment in a
nice location. They can also afford
travelling, better food and
education for their children.
10. Lifelong Companionship
Being committed to someone is
great. It’s rewarding to have a
person who cherishes and
protects you. These are eternal
virtues. They have always been
highly appreciated by people. All
of us dream that some day we
meet someone special with whom
we will spend the rest of our lives....culled from the internet

5. Health Issues Solved
Not only ladies experience health
benefits. Married men are also
healthier both mentally and
emotionally when they are
married. They are taken care of,
feel loved and needed. It’s good
for men’s cardiovascular system.
They are less prone to strokes,
heart attacks and other diseases.
6. Better Financial Situation
It is obvious that a couple spends
more money than a single person.
But the thing is that a couple
makes better money and they can
afford to buy more. Married men
realize that they are providers for
their wives and kids and start
earning better money while single
men can live on a lower salary
since they are not motivated to
work and earn more.
7. Beating Bad Habits
Studies show that married people
get rid of their bad habits much
easier because their sense of
responsibility for their family
won’t let them drink or use drugs.
Some quit smoking when they are
motivated by their spouse and
children. If you are single, then
fighting your addiction on your
own becomes far more difficult.
8. Easier To Take Care Of Kids
When you are not alone it is
always easier, especially if we are
talking about growing up children.
Parents who share their
responsibility for their children
serve a better example. Their kids
learn what a real family
relationship is which will make
them happier personalities in their
future family life.

Being married is nowadays
considered to be old-fashioned.
Young people find matrimony
conservative and prefer to stay
officially unattached. Countries
with traditional views still believe
that family is something essential
in every person’s life.
There are advantages and
disadvantages in being married.
Apart from weight gain and
argument, there are positive
aspects. If the union is happy,
what the couple may experience is
financial benefits, support, and
good health. Sociologists have
proved that those who prefer to
get married to their partner are
happier in their relationship than
those who stay unmarried. More
than that, kids who are born to
married parents are much happier
and psychologically healthier. See
if you agree with the following 10
opinions regarding marriage.
1. Longer Life
It has been estimated that the
number of people who die is twice
as high among unmarried
couples. Married people take
better care of each other, support
their partners and provide help if
needed. People who feel
responsible for their spouse and
kids feel the need to take care of
themselves. They understand that
there is someone who needs
them. Advice: If you want to live
longer, get married. Do not make
a mistake though by marrying
someone who is not your true
soul mate!
2. Looking After Yourself
Statistic data show that married
females and males are healthier.
Some married people feel so
responsible for their beloved that
they start taking better care of
themselves, they quit bad habits
which leads to a longer life. It is
devastating and destructive to live
in a relationship where people
misunderstand and mistreat each
other. In this case life can only be
shorter and health much worse.
So, the point here is not just to
get married for the sake of
marriage but to be happily
married, enjoy your married life,
love your partner and be loved
back.
3. Lower Risk Of Sexually
Transmitted Diseases
Married people have a regular and
stable sex life. They do not need
to constantly look for a sexual
partner. This lowers the risk of
catching sexually transmitted
diseases. We are now talking
about couples in which both
partners love each other and stay
loyal and faithful to each other.
People who disrespect their
spouses and cheat on them stay
at a higher risk of STDs.
4. Better Health
For women there are health
benefits in being married. Good
sex life proved a complete feeling
of satisfaction and happiness.
This influences mood and as we
know, mental health is not less
important than physical health.
Research has proved that single
people suffer from mood swings
and even depression more often

true45: just incase

what happens sorry, you are no longer in the first page

Op,why you no number am...mine is been bigger than my peers,i feel uncomfortable especially when am on heels

Tundecool: Cabin All The Way....

Just dip em in2 1 full cup of ice cold water mixed with blueboat milk and Ovaltine....

Babe, its mind blowing....

lol,another form of cornflakes abi?

daveP: wish you many happy returns. Happy birthday to you

na im make you quote everything wey he type?nawo you o
Back to za topic,haepi birthday ggrin,wish you sucKsex,long life and prosperity... you are blessed

Unibenstudent: too much sugar gal.follow back

Alrice

Unibenstudent: did u remember the digestive biscuits that was microscopic too

yesand kiddo too..i loved kiddo cos it was too sugary

lalasticlala: Tonto sorry 4 being dumped. He thirsted a switer kitten, and left u after sucking u dry
Don't worry another is coming soon. ok

lol,badmouth

Unibenstudent: yes am sure the ones u saw were expired since 2004

lol...i didn't check the expiry date since i no wan buy

Unibenstudent: those have bEen replaced by noreos?

i still see them though they are scarce now...they are fallen heroes

Coconut and speedy all the way,i can't it cabin alone

What's spectacular in helping his wife abi na for my kitchen he dey?lol,naija people are gradually taking after the whites that take every celeb thing as good news and this bloggers are not helping matters

What you should do?are you kidding me?so you don't know what to do....okay,nairalanders tell him what he should do

Stubborn tv ;Dour own don old sote i no dey remember am now

Do you feel comfortable in high
heels? Do you know the right way
to wear heels and walk
comfortably? Many women feel
uncomfortable while wearing high
heels. Listed below are some tips
to walk comfortably in high heels,
continue reading.
1. Buy the right size
To start with, it is important to buy
a shoe that fits you. If the size is
not right, the heels will hurt you,
and you will feel uncomfortable.
So, while buying a shoe look for
the right fit and perfect size. A
tight fitted shoe makes the
situation worse.
2. Practice with heels
Wear the shoes you just bought,
and stand in those shoes to
balance your self. Practice
standing and then walk a few
steps. If you do this regularly, you
will get accustomed to the shoes
and also to high heels. This will
help you to walk the right way.
With practice, right posture can be
attained.
3. Keep your posture straight
Do not bend while walking in high
heels, most women tend to bend
their legs. Walk straight and keep
both the legs close. If your
posture is straight, there will not
be any problem in wearing the
heels. Do take care of your
posture to comfortably walk in
heels.
4. Be confident
Many women get scared of
wearing heels. So, when they wear
heels, it shows on their face. It is
important to act confident while
walking in heels. With a confident
posture, any woman can carry off
a heel. The next time you wear
heels, walk straight with attitude.
5. Use a shoe cushion
Most women have a tendency to
slip forward with heels. To avoid
this situation, insert a cushioning
inside the shoe or sandals with
high heels. You will feel more
comfortable with this. Also, add
traction to your soles to avoid
slipping.
6. Take smaller steps
Do not take bigger steps while
walking in high heels. It is
advisable to take small steps; this
reduces the chances of tripping
down. Keep both the legs close to
each other and walk upright in
high heels.
7. Choose the right heels
There are many forms of heels in
shoes. Wedges, platforms, and
pencil heels, etc. It is important to
choose the right type of heel to
walk comfortably. Comfort plays
the most important part here.
Do keep the above tips in mind,
the next time you wear heels....hope it helped

Lol,so funny...especially number 1

ginajet: make I keep evidence just incase you try to modify diz comment

lol,you bad o.no be fp dey worry me

akraym: Forget it OP. This news nor fit enter frontpage. Make we bet

i wasn't thinking of front page,i just felt like sharing it...you grab?

Hemingway, I wrote, was one of
my favorites. It seemed that
Knight was shy about everything
except literary criticism; he
answered that he felt "rather
lukewarm" about Hemingway.
Instead, he noted, he'd rather read
Rudyard Kipling, preferably his
"lesser known works." As if
catching himself getting a little
friendly, he added that since he
didn't know me, he really didn't
want to say more.
Then he seemed concerned that
he was now being too unfriendly.
"I wince at the rudeness of this
reply but think it better to be clear
and honest rather than polite.
Tempted to say 'nothing personal,'
but handwritten letters are always
personal." He ended with: "It was
kind of you to write. Thank you."
He did not sign his name.
I wrote him back and sent him a
couple of Kiplings (The Man Who
Would Be King and Captains
Courageous) . His response, two
and a half pages, felt as raw and
honest as a diary entry. He was
suffering in jail; the noise and the
filth tore at his senses. "You
asked how I sleep. Little and
uneasy. I am nearly always tired
and nervous." In his next letter, he
added, in his staccato, almost
song-lyric style, that he deserved
to be imprisoned. "I stole. I was a
thief. I repeatedly stole over many
years. I knew it was wrong. Knew
it was wrong, felt guilty about it
every time, yet continued to do it."
We exchanged letters throughout
the summer of 2013. Rather than
becoming gradually more
accustomed to jail, to being
around other people, Knight was
deteriorating. In the woods, he
said, he'd always carefully
maintained his facial hair, but now
he stopped shaving. "Use my
beard," he wrote, "as a jail
calendar."
He tried several times to converse
with other inmates. He could force
out a few hesitant words, but
every topic—music, movies,
television—was lost on him, as
was most slang. "You speak like a
book," one inmate teased.
Whereupon he ceased talking.
"I am retreating into silence as a
defensive move," he wrote. Soon
he was down to uttering just five
words, and only to guards: yes;
no; please; thank you. "I am
surprised by the amount of
respect this garners me. That
silence intimidates puzzles me.
Silence is to me normal,
comfortable."
He wrote little about his time in
the woods, but what he did reveal
was harrowing. Some years, he
made it clear, he barely survived
the winter. In one letter, he told
me that to get through difficult
times, he tried meditating. "I didn't
meditate every day, month, season
in the woods. Just when death
was near. Death in the form of too
little food or too much cold for too
long." Meditation worked, he
concluded. "I am alive and sane,
at least I think I'm sane." As
always there was no formal
closing. His letters simply ended,
sometimes mid-thought.
He returned to the theme of sanity
in a following letter. "When I came
out of the woods they applied the
label hermit to me. Strange idea to
me. I had never thought of myself
as a hermit. Then I got worried.
For I knew with the label hermit
comes the idea of crazy. See the
ugly little joke."
Even worse, he feared his time in
jail would only prove correct those
who doubted his sanity. "I
suspect," he wrote, "more damage
has been done to my sanity in jail,
in months; than years, decades, in
the woods."
His legal proceedings were mired
in delays, as the district attorney
and his lawyer tried to figure out
how justice could be served in a
case entirely without precedent.
After four months in jail, Knight
had no clue what punishment
awaited. A sentence of a dozen or
more years was possible. "Stress
levels sky high," he wrote. "Give
me a number. How long? Months?
Years? How long in prison for me.
Tell me the worst. How long?"
In the end, he decided he could
not even write. "For a while writing
relieved stress for me. No longer."
He sent one last, heartbreaking
letter in which he seemed at the
verge of breakdown. "Still tired.
More tired. Tireder, tiredest, tired
ad nauseam, tired infinitum."
And that was it. He never wrote
me again. Though he did finally
sign his name. Despite the
exhaustion and the tension, the
last words he penned were wry
and self-mocking: "Your friendly
neighborhood Hermit, Christopher
Knight."
·
·
·
Three weeks after his final letter, I
flew to Maine. The Kennebec
County jail, a three-story slab of
pale gray cinder blocks, permits
visitors most evenings at six
forty-five. I arrived early. "Who
you here to see?" asked a
corrections officer.
"Christopher Knight."
"Relationship?"
"Friend," I answered
unconfidently. He didn't know I
was here, and I had my doubts
he'd see me.
I sat on a bench as other visitors
checked in. Beyond the walls of
the waiting room, I could hear
piercing buzzers and slamming
doors. Eventually an officer
appeared and called out, "Knight."
He unlocked a maroon door and I
stepped inside a visitors' booth.
Three short stools were bolted to
the floor in front of a narrow desk.
Over the desk, dividing the booth
into sealed-off halves, was a thick
pane of shatterproof plastic.
Sitting on a stool on the other
side of the pane was Christopher
Knight.
Rarely in my life have I witnessed
someone less pleased to see me.
His lips, thin, were pulled into a
downturned scowl. His eyes did
not rise to meet mine. I sat across
from him, and there was no
acknowledgment of my presence,
not the merest nod. He gazed
someplace beyond my left
shoulder. He was wearing a dull
green overlaundered jail uniform
several sizes too big.
A black phone receiver was
hanging on the wall. I picked it up.
He picked his up—the first
movement I saw him make.
I spoke first. "Nice to meet you,
Chris."
He didn't respond. He just sat
there, stone-faced. His balding
head shone like a snowfield
beneath the fluorescent lights; his
beard was a mess of reddish
brown curls. He had on silver-
framed glasses, different from the
ones he'd worn forever in the
woods. He was very skinny. He'd
lost a great deal of weight since
his arrest.
I tend to babble when I'm
nervous, but I made a conscious
effort to restrain myself. I recalled
what Knight wrote in his letter
about being comfortable with
silence. I looked at him not
looking at me. Maybe a minute
passed.
That was all I could endure. "The
constant banging and buzzing in
here," I said, "must be so jarring
compared with the sounds of
nature." He shifted his eyes to me
—a small victory—then glanced
away. His eyes are light brown. He
scarcely has any eyebrows. I let
my comment hang in the air.
Then he spoke. Or at least his
mouth moved. His first words to
me were inaudible. I saw why: He
was holding the phone's
mouthpiece too low, below his
chin. It had been decades since
he'd used a phone; he was out of
practice. I indicated with my hand
that he needed to move it up. He
did. And he repeated his grand
pronouncement.
"It's jail," he said. There was
nothing more. Silence again.
I shouldn't have come. He didn't
want me here; I didn't feel
comfortable being here. But the
jail had granted me a one-hour
visit, and I resolved to stay. I
settled atop my stool. I felt
hyperaware of all my gestures, my
expressions, my breathing. Chris's
right leg, I saw through the
scuffed window, was bouncing
rapidly. He scratched at his skin.
Photo: Jennifer Smith-Mayo
My patience was rewarded. First
his leg settled down. He quit
scratching. And then, rather
shockingly, he started talking.
"Some people want me to be this
warm and fuzzy person. All filled
with friendly hermit wisdom. Just
spouting off fortune-cookie lines
from my hermit home."
His voice was clear; he'd retained
the stretched vowels of a Down
East Maine accent. And his words,
when he deigned to release them,
could evidently be imaginative and
entertaining. And caustic.
"Your hermit home—like under a
bridge?" I said, trying to play
along.
He presented me with an achingly
long blink.
"You're thinking of a troll."
I laughed. His face moved in the
direction of a smile. We had made
a connection—or at least the
awkwardness of our introduction
had softened. We began to
converse somewhat normally. He
called me Mike and I called him
Chris.
He explained about the lack of eye
contact. "I'm not used to seeing
people's faces," he said. "There's
too much information there. Aren't
you aware of it? Too much, too
fast."
I followed his cue and looked over
his shoulder while he stared over
mine. We maintained this
arrangement for most of the visit.
Chris had recently been given a
mental-health evaluation by
Maine's forensic service. The
report mentioned a possible
diagnosis of Asperger's disorder,
a form of autism often marked by
exceptional intelligence but
extreme sensitivity to motions,
sounds, and light.
Chris had just learned of
Asperger's while in jail, and he
seemed unfazed by the diagnosis.
"I don't think I'll be a spokesman
for the Asperger's telethon. Do
they still do telethons? I hate
Jerry Lewis." He said he was
taking no medications. "But I don't
like people touching me," he
added. "You're not a hugger, are
you?"
I admitted that I do at times
participate in embraces.
"I'm glad this is between us," he
said, indicating the glass. "If there
was a set of blinds here, I'd close
them."
There was a part of me that was
perversely charmed by Chris. He
could seem prickly—he is prickly—
but this was merely a protective
cover. He told me that since his
capture, he'd often found himself
emotionally overwhelmed at
unexpected moments. "Like TV
commercials," he said, "have made
me teary. It's not a good thing in
jail to have people see you
crying."
Everything he said seemed candid
and blunt, unfiltered by the safety
net of social niceties. "I'm not
sorry about being rude if it gets to
the point quicker," he told me.culled from the internet

For nearly thirty years, he was
only a legend in small towns, a
ghost that slunk into homes at
night and survived on whatever
food he could steal without being
noticed by scared residents. Such
a phantom, most persuaded
themselves, couldn’t possibly live
in the nearby forest.
That phantom was finally arrested
for stealing last year, and he’s
being called the last true hermit.
When he was captured, the hermit
was out for a late night raid at the
Pine Trees Summer Camp near
North Pond in central Maine.
While searching through the
kitchen for food, he unknowingly
set off an alarm that led to his
arrest at the hands of Sergeant
Terry Hughes, a warden that had
become obsessed with capturing
the man known as the North Pond
Hermit.
Hughes, with the help of some
Maine state police, apprehended
the burglar and asked him his
name. He didn’t say a word, and
he had no identification on him. In
a broken voice, he admitted to the
state trooper, Diane Perkins-
Vance, that he was ashamed to
answer questions about himself.
His name, the trooper learned, was
Christopher Thomas Knight. He
was born in 1965, had no address
and no vehicle. He had gone to
live in the woods, alone, when he
was only 20 years old — now, he
was 47.
His way of life was truly
remarkable. He never lit a fire, as
he was afraid of being detected,
and moved only at night, sleeping
in a tent during the day. When he
was captured, he had no idea if
his parents were alive, and had
never even heard anything of the
internet. He admitted to
committing about 40 break-ins a
year to keep himself well-fed.
Before that night, April 4 of last
year, Knight had only said one
word to another human being in
the last 27 years. He said “hi” to a
passing hiker.
The man had long been a legend
in the nearby town of North Pond,
where residents were victims of
his break-ins for so long. But
most claim they didn’t really
believe that such a thing could be
true. After all, what man could
survive in the woods through the
freezing cold of a New England
winter?
Knight, somehow, managed it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t keep a
journal or snap any photos to
document his long time alone. He
had pledged, after all, to live his
entire life in secret after he went
to the forest as a young man, just
out of high school.
While, many have tried to contact
him since to hear his story, he
hasn’t been saying much. A writer
over at GQ managed to get a
short response letter from Knight,
staying in prison, the two of them
bonding over a shared love of
literature. Knight had stolen many
books during his time in the
woods.
They exchanged more and more
letters, Knight offering his regrets
on a life of crime and reflections
on the differences between the
two ways of life he had led. One
fascinating, surprisingly literate,
tidbit:
Solitude did increase my
perception. But here’s the
tricky thing—when I applied
my increased perception to
myself, I lost my identity.
With no audience, no one to
perform for, I was just there.
There was no need to define
myself; I became irrelevant.
The moon was the minute
hand, the seasons the hour
hand. I didn’t even have a
name. I never felt lonely. To
put it romantically: I was
completely free.
To learn more of his stunning
story, read the long feature article
at GQ.
Read more

You are right... am taller than my mates and older ones but my wish is to grow taller

dzeeny: mtcheeeeew.... as ma pic fine reach...juz 1
like nd ah see sum worwor gurlz getting a
100+ likes..(they kno demslvz) ma fellow
nairalanders tz nt fair oO!!!

lol..seemslike you are begging for likes

What's sexy there?bleached skin and dark knuckles.all these people too dey form

hatux: Ah ah! Person dey carry camera go dream...

lwkmd

salau01: so funny visit www.latestforya..com

what's funny here

Your friend today might be your enemy tomorrow... the problem is that some of this actresses are arrogant, they feel like"i don't tolerate nonsense "without knowing that life is like a movie

I think mine is Pneumatiphobia - Fear of spirits....caused by crazy imagination

As far as there is money, why not