₦airaland Forum

Jakumo: Put your cane away, Ishilove. The only difference between a hunter like me who eats his harvest, and any other NON-vegetarian member of society, is the degree of removal from the actual killing of animals for meat.

By purchasing that shrink-wrapped top-surloin cut from the meat department of your local grocery store, you become an end-user of cattle reared on steroid-laced feed, in cramped industrial-scale "feed-lot" farms, before being funneled with electric prods into the abartoir, for conveyor-belt dispatch. The free-roaming deer I selectively harvest live far more humane existences than the captive and caged fate of farm livestock, and my animals are dropped by long-range rifle-shot, with no chase to stress them out and thus ruin the flavor of the meat.

Ishilove, I hereby invite you for a candle-lit dinner at my bunker, where the menu will feature fine red wine to wash down lightly sauteed venisson cutlets in mushroom sauce. We can talk about this subject of wildlife management, and who knows, I may be able to persuade you to saddle up and join me on my next hunting trip.

I know of a corn-farm where marauding herds of massive grass-cutter cane-rats are wreaking havoc every night. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, will be to join me in laying midnight ambush for this wily prey, while disregarding the relentless swarms of mosquitos that accompany the rats on their nocturnal corn-farm raids. In case you are unaware, the flesh of grasscutter cane rats is more flavorful and nutritious than anything money can buy. Need I say more ?

For your first hunting expedition may I offer you my 16-guage shotgun to blast those absolutely delicious furry critters to kingdom come. It is a classic, lightweight, well-balanced scatter-gun, ideally suited to the discerning woman shooter like yourself, who is not prepared to compromise aesthetics in the pursuit of ballistic performance.

Please, have your personal secretary call mine, immediately.

Ladies and Gentlemen, behold a Jakumo Classic!

Uyi Iredia: These days I think it profoundly inane that it is implied that being a Nobel laurete makes one intellectually superior to me or others.

It doesn't necessarily make them intellectually superior to anyone. It just makes them greatly accomplished - at least to the perception of the majority - and therefore considerably more important than you, me or anyone else who may or may not have written a book, and certainly hasn't won the Nobel Prize, or achieved any equally remarkable feat purely by their own effort.

The poster you quoted was merely hinting at the fact that the Dame falls in the last category.

Jasmine, I suppose you acquired your LL.B in a foreign country?

Deep Sight: My deepest apologies, Anony and all.

I cannot continue this thread because I will be permanently withdrawing from Nairaland going forward on account of the unacceptable disposition of the owner of the site.

Best wishes.

Now this is quite a shock.

It's possible that you began to contemplate this when the froth on the MMW thread started to grow markedly distasteful, but it does seem like your decision was made as a reaction to the blather of that fellow, Jackbauersballs. I do hope this isn't the case, because then, whether you admit it or not, you would be according him far more relevance than he's worth.

I've found your reasoning on this forum really stimulating; made all the more so by the elegance of your delivery. It would be sad indeed to see you leave.

Heck, I'm quite certain there's a lot of folks who would be very glad if you changed your mind.

A beautifully written piece. It paints a pretty vivid picture of the monkey business that's afoot in Cape Town. You just gotta love the mischievous references to the invading species sprinkled here and there in the work. I'm surprised he missed this one (and you can expect a guy like Jakumo to pick it up):

Jakumo: Please do NOT panic, residents of Cape Town. Your beautiful city will NOT be re-named Ape Town, regardless of what mischief those baboons perpetrate.

Deciding to make my own meals; that's always my worst cooking blunder.

The President appears to be smiling. Is he really? If the answer is in the affirmative, can anyone say why?

Hilarious! The names wan pamilerin.

Photos like these make one feel rather insignificant; first as a Species, and then, even more pointedly, as an individual.

Go easy on the mic, MOG, for the tightrope between activism and sedition is one you appear to be dangling precariously from.

The danger of engaging in 'illegal séx' is that you'll go to jail.

Séx can only be said to be illegal when it is practised on an underaged person, a married person or a prostitute; the last two being applicable only in areas where there are laws against adultery and prostitution.

Pataki: While we all know who the hippopotamus is, I am more curious to know who the erudite Prof. labels as Mammy watas, manatees and mermaids.

It's likely that kongi did not mean that bit in reference to specific persons, but devised it as a deft feint to disguise the the right jab that he threw at the First Lady in the concluding line.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with public figures passing stinging remarks about one another every now and then; indeed that sort of thing is to be encouraged as it often proves to be extremely entertaining for neutrals like me. The only problem with this otherwise healthy hatred between public figures is the utterly distasteful manner in which Nigerians prefer to go about it.

'X is a retàrd'; 'W is an embarrassment'; 'So and so is the product of a gày marriage'; and other similarly crude and classless insults that are annoying without being amusing. This kind of animosity is unacceptable, for it is much too boring.

There is no doubt at all that Soyinka has very tacitly equated Dame J to an oversized, slightly stupíd amphibious animal, and while it would perhaps be proper to rebuke him for bickering endlessly with about everyone, you just have to admire the style with which this rejoinder is delivered. The only faults I find with it are the decidedly torturous diction and painfully convoluted prose that have come to be his trademark.

I moved into an apartment once, where I had the good fortune of sharing the block with a number of dashing damsels. Every so often they'd prance by daintily, clad in these shorts that barely contained, or concealed, jiggling buttcheeks; and, when necessary, I surveyed the goods with an interest that I assure you was purely scientific.

Two doors from mine was one in whom I'd taken particular interest. She wasn't one of spectacular beauty; she was just pretty enough to invite an inspection of her other feminine attributes, and those were indeed most remarkable.

One saturday morning I was up early and going out to get stuff in the street when I ran into a certain girl in the hall. I thought that she must be new on the block because I'd never seen anyone like her around there. She was also dreadfully plain; almost outright ugly in fact. I began to think how fortunate I was that none of my neighbours were that unattractive. As she walked past me, I snuck a stealthy look back long enough to see the butt tremble, and its owner unluck the door and walk into the apartment two doors from mine.

It wasn't until I returned to my apartment, and upon careful reflection, that I was struck by the cold and terrifying realization: the awfully plain girl I'd seen in the hall on my way out was none other than my very own neighbour, caught without that masterful, and I daresay, merciful touch of make-up.

That was a very disturbing deduction, I shít you not; and although I still admire the wonder it works on a girl's appearance, I've come to distrust any amount of make-up that's beyond a charming smile.

carzola: Please can you show us picture of the woman in the pool,. (por+n intended)

Good one.

honeric01: Can a man do this same act to a girl of this boy's age without raising eyebrows?

A very interesting question.

If you had to make the choice, would you like your son to beat his sister, or would you prefer that he shågged her?

Kids get influenced by violence in movies, no doubt about that; but it seems to me that the pull of sèx is far greater. There is a subtle seduction to the act that even kids find alluring, and before long they begin to undertake experiments when no one's looking.

Now that I think of it, it's really queer. When he has the impulse, a child will start a fight with his sibling -- or any other kid -- whether or not there is an adult around. He will pummel, pinch and scratch his adversary until the adult intervenes. But when a kid undertakes to probe the anatomy of one of the opposite séx, that kid understands that it must be done in complete secrecy.

Sometimes I shudder to think how crooked and calculating children can be.

I agree that kids should not be exposed to a certain degree of violence, but, my friend, by every means possible, guard your kid from sexùal filth wherever it pops up. It is a disease that will endanger them in childhood, mar them in teenage, and may very well ruin their life, ultimately.

Jack Baueress: I can bet with my father's c0ck that those who posted above me have never been to London.

Look what the world has come to. Men don't have it easy at all. You escape a henpecking wife, you end up with a daughter who stakes your bälls in a wager.

They must be a gay couple, because I can't tell the guy from the girl.

The person in the second picture is, quite clearly, a guy; so if any one of the romping runts is female, it's probably the person in the first picture.

The puzzle lies in the fact that the fellow in said picture appears to have a beard.

As Chinom pointed out, kinsmen tend to disregard every kind of marriage but the traditional one. The safe (and economical) thing to do then would be to first conduct a quiet marriage at the registry, witnessed only by those who need to. Afterwards a traditional marriage may be staged to impress the tribesmen.

The cultural ceremony will in no way affect the legal status of the marriage. Where there is any disagreement between the customary law under which the marriage was conducted and the Marriage Act, the statute will prevail.

There's no such thing as a 'court wedding/marriage'...at least not in Nigeria. What is erroneously termed a court marriage is simply a marriage conducted at the Registry, and it is said to be a marriage under the Act; that is the Marriage Act.

A marriage of this sort is regulated by statute, rather than customary law, and is often the more advantageous one for the woman. It binds a man to one wife, and the woman to her one husband. So if Chief decides after ten years of legal matrimony that Nne is now too old for him, and that twenty-two years old Ngozi is the pint of fresh blood that he desires, Chief will go to jail if he goes on to marry Ngozi without first obtaining a divorce. You've no doubt heard of bigamy.

On the other hand, your 'Traditional Marriage' is a marriage under customary law. The implication is that it will have to submit to all the prying and probing that in-laws and other relations undertake under the auspices of tradition. In fact, the couple will have to put up with anything that custom demands (or merely permits), unless it is proven that such a practice is. . .you guessed it. . . repugnant to natural justice, equity and good conscience.
Very few Nigerians are aware of these things; to most, any kind of marriage is good enough, as long as there's a lavish ceremony afterwards.

If you're about to make the inevitable mistake of getting married, it is in your interest to consult a lawyer who'll educate you on the fine points of the law regarding that institution where, as some witty fellow once put it, the man loses his Bachelors and the the woman acquires her Masters.

The song is the intellectual property of none other than Farouk Lawan, who wrote it in response to questions concerning the bribery scandal in which he was humiliated about a year ago.

Farouk was assisted in his artistic endeavour by Baba Suwe, although the exact nature of the relationship between them is unclear.

I am making this post even though I have not finished reading the article. This is not something I always do; indeed I was carefully perusing the article, putting up a stout resistance to the laughter that hurt my sides, until I came to the part about farts streaking through space at ten feet per second. That killed me.

By the time I finish writing this, I will have regained enough of my composure to continue reading, I hope. If the article gets any more hilarious, I will most certainly suffer a fractured rib.

It's perfectly normal. I undergo (or enjoy) periods of overwhelming nostalgia myself, and, for me, the most haunting of them are those times when a certain sensation brings a vague feeling of longing, but I cannot quite place what exactly that longing is for. Like, 'Hmmm, this reminds me of something that I cannot remember'.


Check this out:
“The Greek word for
"return" is nostos. Algos
means "suffering." So
nostalgia is the suffering
caused by an unappeased yearning to return.”
― Milan Kundera, Ignorance

Haha. But that is one cute cat. It looks rather like a rabbit.

It's no surprise at all that Mr. Feline is in the lead; in fact it should be quite easy for him to win. There is hardly any man in Mexico, or anywhere in the world, who wouldn't be glad to vote for Pússy.

Trump wanna-be.

This Saudi prince probably lives in some humongous 13th Century palace that has been infused with the most exquisite of modern conveniences, flits across the skies in a Gulfstream G650 as he is ministered to by exotic wenches, and generally lives a life that is well lubricated by the oil of the middle east. YET HE WANTS SOME MORE ATTENTION.

I see just what this guy meant when he said this:

pro01: When you're that rich, sex , or.g.a.s.m and the other ordinary pleasures get boring. You have to find. creative and perverse ways to indulge yourself.

It is good to talk love, and it is even better to show love; but nothing compares to making it.

You don't need an LL.B to work in a law firm if all you want to do is balance accounts and all that sort of stuff. The real problem is that I don't think there are too many law firms big enough to require professional hands for 'financial services'. Even actual new wigs - that's rookie lawyers - have a hard time finding a job in a firm that disburses decent pay, and as far as 'financial services' go, folks hire people whose qualifications aren't as impressive as yours, but who will gladly sweat over columns and figures all day long in exchange for wages that are rather dismal. Besides, there isn't much of a chance for career advancement.

Not to dampen your dreams, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of sense in wanting to work in a law firm just for the hell of it. It may profit you more to turn your gaze in other directions. Otherwise, you'd better get yourself in a reputable university, study law, pass the bar exam, and start your own chamber after. Cheers.

On the 6th of January, 1995 I attended a wedding reception somewhere in Akwa Ibom state. The bride's sister served me drinks until i passed out. By the time I came to, I found that we were happily married with three kids.

I am now a teetotaller.

never_say_never: They didn't leave the same way they came. It's a miracle

Yeah, those people certainly didn't live the way they came...if you get my meaning.

Jakumo: Those pictures show innocence to start with, then the terror caused by battle, and finally that empty "Thousand Yard Stare" that is common to most who see, suffer and inflict the horrors of war.

True, except perhaps for Second Lieutenant Struan
Cunningham, that's the the guy in the fifth set of photos. His 'before war' face really resembles everyone else's 'after war' visage. He looks the sort who joins the army just because they want a lawful means of killing people.

I may be completely wrong, of course, and the guy could be an amiable old boy who signed up just so he'd have entertaining war stories to tell his grandchildren.

30DB4FA6: There are sum car wen u start it the car to start to laff u for example *ignition* buheheheheheheheheheheheheehe

Hahahaha