Ositadima1's Posts
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prettyangel10:I maintained that we have equal rights as Lagos residents, you and me. You didn't denay it, because you know is true. I can go any where I want, do anything I like as long as I abide by the laws, same as you, whether Youroba or not. So, babe, you see. |
prettyangel10:Why are you so intent on inflicting pain, I am not pained. Babe, it's no a fight o. But I am ok, as you now agree with me. You learned something. |
prettyangel10:I will claim Legos because I am a Nigerian living in Lagos. I work and pay my taxes in Lagos, you don't possess more rights than me. Heck, I can marry a youroba girl sef (even you). Lagos is my city. Majority will always influence the laws, some day majority status may go to another tribe, very soon sef, as more people are migrating to Lagos. |
Virginkpekus:What is kpekus? |
prettyangel10:No law is final, it can be appealed. Thank God, you agree you don't have more claim over Lagos than I have. Yourobas may influence the happenings in Lagos today, just because they are majority, it may be different tomorrow. |
prettyangel10:You need to understand that Nigeria is one country, your region is where ever you find your self. If I live in Lagos, then it is my region and I have same right as any other Legosian. Pls get it right babe. You are no more Lagosian than I am, whether you claim to be Youroba. Same rules apply to me and you. |
ODVanguard:Why truncate my post, I guess it's typical with your kind sha. Read ur source, don't be lazy. |
LaudableXX:I thought federal law is supreme, last time I checked power is at the centre but again I may be wrong. |
ODVanguard:Show me where it was mandatory in tertiary institutions as entrance requirement, why would Igbo be compulsory in a university, does it even make sense? What are you going to use it for if all lectures are in English? I guess you didn't read your sources before posting them. |
tunjijones:I never said east and south south are the same people, show me where I insinuated that or you must be poor at comprehension. |
tunjijones:Pls don't come to the east or south south looking for jobs if u don't know their local language. I see a lot of yourobas working in Port Harcourt, go back to your states or learn the local dialects, nonese!!! |
ubunja:Not true, bride prise does not mean he will be able to provide. Not at all. |
There are two ways to read this question. One is somewhat theoretical: If I masturbate, will I lose the right to call myself a virgin? The second, and this is very important in many cultures, is this: Will I tear my hymen if I masturbate? The answer to the first question is no. By the traditional definition, a woman is a virgin if there has never been a penis inserted into her vagina. A man is a virgin if his penis has never been inserted into a woman's vagina. They can do anything else and they will still be virgins. Virginity is such a stupid concept. It is supposedly about innocence and chastity and virtue, but a person can have oral and anal sex with five hundred people and still be a virgin. Doesn't sound very chaste or innocent, does it? A girl/woman who has only had "normal" sex with one man is far less knowledgeable and experienced and far more innocent, even though she isn't technically a virgin. The answer to the second question is slightly more complicated. Some women put fingers or other objects inside their vaginas when they masturbate, but most don't. They concentrate their efforts on the clitoris instead, the sensitive little shaft just below the pubic bone. But even those women who prefer to have something inside their vaginas when they masturbate still don't necessarily tear their hymens. To understand why, you need to know a bit about the hymen, which is usually a stretchy little flap of skin that blocks about 10-20% of the vaginal opening. You might not have one at all. You might have one that is already torn or eroded, because really thin ones are quite fragile. Or you might have one that covers a lot more than 20% of the opening. The point is that if you have a hymen, you might tear it if you put something hard inside your vaginal opening. If you live in a society where the state of your hymen matters, that's probably a bad idea. (If you live in a Western country where hymens don't matter, it's a good idea to get rid of it before you have sex, so go ahead and stretch it gently every time you masturbate.) |
Written by SetItToWumbo94 He was there again tonight. Watching me through my window as I pretended to sleep. He’s been coming to my window every night since I came to this place. He thinks I don’t know he’s there, he thinks he’s clever, but I see him. I feel him. When he watches me, I’m stiff as stone. My heartbeat races, I start to sweat, and my blood runs cold. But I never move a muscle. Sometimes, he puts his hands on my window, his breath fogging the glass. Sometimes, I can hear him crying. His intentions are sinister, I know it. He’s started to come in my room now. He sits in a chair by the foot of my bed, breathing heavy breaths, polluting my air. Sometimes, he will mumble things. Sometimes, he hums lullabies. Sometimes, he just cries. Recently, he took a big step. He came into my room and looked at my paintings, touched them. He touched my paintings! Then, he pulled up a chair and sat at the foot of my bed, just watching me. I never look at him directly, I know if he sees me open my eyes, he will get me. I’ve started to hear his whispers. They’re too faint for me to understand, but I know they’re there. I feel the pure evil in his voice. It scares me. And I hate being afraid. Something must be done. I started to leave him messages. I would place them at the foot of my bed for him to find: “LEAVE.” “NO MORE.” “STAY AWAY.” But when I wake up, my messages are gone, and replaced by his own sick, demented words: “I’M HERE FOR YOU.” “I WON’T GO.” “I NEED YOU.” This man is twisted. This man is vile. This man wants my blood. He wants me dead, I know it! I won’t allow that to happen. I cannot. So, I leave more messages: “NEVER RETURN.” “STOP COMING HERE.” “I HATE YOU.” Again, I wake to his disgusting responses: “WHY?” “I LOVE YOU.” “I’LL NEVER LEAVE.” It burns my stomach that this man will not understand. It gnaws at my bones that he still chooses to come to my room every night. He thinks he can just get away with it. But I grow tired of this little game we play. Last night, I made sure to steal one of my art scissors and brought it to bed. I hid it under my pillow, pulled up my covers, and closed my eyes. Listening. Waiting… He came to my window. He put his hand on the glass. He cried for a moment, then he entered my room. He looked at my paintings, touched them again. He pulled up his chair, he sat and watched me. I waited. He started humming lullabies again. He stood and paced around the room, sobbing. He walked to the side of my bed, leaned down, kissed me on the cheek, and I drove my scissors deep into his throat. I didn’t look at him. I knew he could still get me. But I heard as he choked on his own blood. I heard him fall to the floor grasping his neck, gurgling and gasping for air. Before he went still, he said one thing: “Why…?” Large men broke down my door. They ran to the dead evil man, and took him away. Then they took me away. They strapped me down and put me in a padded room. I don’t understand why. I can’t paint, I can’t hang my art in here. Eventually, a man who said he was a doctor came in. He sat at the edge of my bed like the man at my window. He pulled out his clipboard and spoke: “Mrs. Rutger, I’d like for you to explain to me why you did what you did. What brought you to your actions? Do you recall your thought process?” Wasn’t it obvious…? “I stopped the evil man from coming into my room and watching me. I saved myself from being taken by him.” The doctor stared at me for a moment. “Mrs. Rutger, I’m afraid you’re not quite understanding what’s happened to you. You’ve been in a terrible car accident in which you lost your three children. Because of this, you had an extreme mental breakdown, and were admitted to Shining Pines Mental Health Facility. You’ve been here for quite some time. In fact, your husband has been the only one in your family to come see you since you arrived.” I stared at him blankly. “Mrs. Rutger… I don’t know how to say this… But your husband was the man you’ve just murdered.” |
Hello, I am twenty eight years old. I live with my wife and I love her. Every day and night I think of her. I would go through hell and back just to be by her side. I would feel dead inside if she ever left me. I always wait for her to come home when she's at work. I always make sure the house is spick and span when she arrives. I take care of all of the chores, including cleaning and cooking, because I want to make her happy. I'll do anything to make her happy. But even if I do all the work, I do tend to make mistakes. Let me explain. One day, I was dusting the bookshelf near the couch, and I accidentally knocked a picture down. It broke, with glass scattered at my feet and the picture facing upwards. I remember hearing her loud and fast footsteps as she descended the stairs. It filled my heart with joy to know she would run down the stairs just to check up on me. She saw the picture, and I explained that I knocked it down by accident. I was rewarded so generously with a hard slap to the face, and some loving words said through a loud voice. Please do not think of this as abuse. These moments where I am disciplined for mistakes I make are really my fault. I assure you, I love it when Jenni hits me, whether it be with a chair, a book, or some other object. I especially love when she hits me with her own hands. Knowing that she would rather hit me on her own than with some random thing around the house gives me such joy. Sometimes, when there is silence, and I am able to sit and feel the pain of all the wounds she inflicted, I am overjoyed, tremendously pleased at the work she has done. My, I do enjoy when her hits leave a mark. The bruises, cuts, scratches, and other injuries leave my body looking more and more beautiful each passing day. I even have the scar from our first date. That memory is still pleasurable to remember. We had just finished going out to dinner, and I gladly paid for everything, since she forgot her billfold. However, I had made a fool of myself before we left the restaurant. I accidentally pushed a waitress over. I helped her up, grabbing her hand and getting her back up on her feet. Jenni did not like that, however, and as soon as we came home, she choked me. Her hands wrapped so lovingly around my neck that I'm certain the only reason I'm alive today is because my love for her saved me from dying. I still have the black and blue ring of bruises around my neck, and they are gorgeous. Everyone seems to worry however. My parents call multiple times a day, wondering where I am. Of course, she picks up and explains that I'm working. How nice of her. She answers the phone so often that I don't even remember the last time I talked to my parents. And that's a good thing, too. I hated them with all my being, and I hope Jenni answers the phone for me for years to come. My parents aren't the only ones that worry. My friends, siblings, hell, even my exes seem to worry. But do not worry, friends, I am still here. People always ask why I don't leave. The reason is very simple: I do not want to. I love Jenni to much to let her go, and I never plan on leaving. In fact, I hope she is reading this because I want her to see how much I care about her. Letters are very important to me. That's how my wife and I first met. We were pen pals, and sent letters to each other. Our relationship started right when I sent the first letter. Ah, yes, I remember exactly what I put in the first letter. I detailed about how I was great at all types of things like cooking, cleaning, washing dishes, doing laundry, and other such things. She read my first letter, then she sent one back. All of the special moments we had started with the first letter. I'm so glad I sent the first letter. Even as Jenni and I grow old, we are still inseparable. Each wound feels like a new memory, a new thing to hold dear to me. Every drop of blood was added to my ocean of love for her. And as we get more and more attached, more and more cuts and bruises are added. And, for all of you wondering, yes, I think the sex is amazing. It's a mixture of pleasure and pain, and it's the best feeling in the entire world. I don't want to get too into detail, but I love how she implements every type of abuse into the bedroom. It spices things up, while also giving both of us what we love. So, I'm afraid this is the end of my little passion-drived rant. I just wanted to say how much I love my wife. I hope you all will find a partner that loves and cares for me as much as Jenni does. I hope I get abused more and more in the future, but for now I am very content. Even now, I couldn't be happier. |
Hello, my name is James Crawford. I am twenty eight years old. I live with my wife Jenni, and I love her. Every day and night I think of her. I would go through hell and back just to be by her side. I would feel dead inside if she ever left me. I always wait for her to come home when she's at work. I always make sure the house is spick and span when she arrives. I take care of all of the chores, including cleaning and cooking, because I want to make her happy. I'll do anything to make her happy. But even if I do all the work, I do tend to make mistakes. Let me explain. One day, I was dusting the bookshelf near the couch, and I accidentally knocked a picture down. It broke, with glass scattered at my feet and the picture facing upwards. I remember hearing her loud and fast footsteps as she descended the stairs. It filled my heart with joy to know she would run down the stairs just to check up on me. She saw the picture, and I explained that I knocked it down by accident. I was rewarded so generously with a hard slap to the face, and some loving words said through a loud voice. Please do not think of this as abuse. These moments where I am disciplined for mistakes I make are really my fault. I assure you, I love it when Jenni hits me, whether it be with a chair, a book, or some other object. I especially love when she hits me with her own hands. Knowing that she would rather hit me on her own than with some random thing around the house gives me such joy. Sometimes, when there is silence, and I am able to sit and feel the pain of all the wounds she inflicted, I am overjoyed, tremendously pleased at the work she has done. My, I do enjoy when her hits leave a mark. The bruises, cuts, scratches, and other injuries leave my body looking more and more beautiful each passing day. I even have the scar from our first date. That memory is still pleasurable to remember. We had just finished going out to dinner, and I gladly paid for everything, since she forgot her billfold. However, I had made a fool of myself before we left the restaurant. I accidentally pushed a waitress over. I helped her up, grabbing her hand and getting her back up on her feet. Jenni did not like that, however, and as soon as we came home, she choked me. Her hands wrapped so lovingly around my neck that I'm certain the only reason I'm alive today is because my love for her saved me from dying. I still have the black and blue ring of bruises around my neck, and they are gorgeous. Everyone seems to worry however. My parents call multiple times a day, wondering where I am. Of course, she picks up and explains that I'm working. How nice of her. She answers the phone so often that I don't even remember the last time I talked to my parents. And that's a good thing, too. I hated them with all my being, and I hope Jenni answers the phone for me for years to come. My parents aren't the only ones that worry. My friends, siblings, hell, even my exes seem to worry. But do not worry, friends, I am still here. People always ask why I don't leave. The reason is very simple: I do not want to. I love Jenni to much to let her go, and I never plan on leaving. In fact, I hope she is reading this because I want her to see how much I care about her. Letters are very important to me. That's how my wife and I first met. We were pen pals, and sent letters to each other. Our relationship started right when I sent the first letter. Ah, yes, I remember exactly what I put in the first letter. I detailed about how I was great at all types of things like cooking, cleaning, washing dishes, doing laundry, and other such things. She read my first letter, then she sent one back. All of the special moments we had started with the first letter. I'm so glad I sent the first letter. Even as Jenni and I grow old, we are still inseparable. Each wound feels like a new memory, a new thing to hold dear to me. Every drop of blood was added to my ocean of love for her. And as we get more and more attached, more and more cuts and bruises are added. And, for all of you wondering, yes, I think the sex is amazing. It's a mixture of pleasure and pain, and it's the best feeling in the entire world. I don't want to get too into detail, but I love how she implements every type of abuse into the bedroom. It spices things up, while also giving both of us what we love. So, I'm afraid this is the end of my little passion-drived rant. I just wanted to say how much I love my wife. I hope you all will find a partner that loves and cares for me as much as Jenni does. I hope I get abused more and more in the future, but for now I am very content. Even now, I couldn't be happier. |
Tinalex:Hey girl, are you Google because you're everything I am searching for? Can I have your digits. |
AishaBuhari:lol at lalastica, him dance no be here. Ishilove !!! |
Culled from Lifehacker. Good stuff, happy reading . |
Vanessa Marin "Hand jobs don’t get the respect they deserve. They’re an activity that many people (especially heterosexual people) haven’t done since they were teenagers. But, just like fingering a woman, manually stimulating a man can be one of the best ways to give focused stimulation. Here’s everything you need to know to give a fantastic hand job. Make Sure He’s on Board My first couple of steps are identical to my recommendations for fingering a woman. Enthusiastic consent is key. Some guys just don’t like hand jobs, or won’t want one in that particular moment. That’s OK. *Enthusiasm is essential on the giver’s end too. Enthusiasm is so crucial to great sex. If your partner can tell you’re just going through the motions, it’s going to be really hard for them to lie back and receive. If you’ve never given your partner a hand job before, play that up. Let him know you’re excited to try something new, and to give his penis some focused attention. Compliment the size and shape of his penis. *Get Prepared Wash your hands and make sure your nails are short and smooth. Let’s do a quick anatomy refresher. The shaft is the majority of the penis. It’s capped off by the head of the penis, which typically looks like a mushroom cap. The head will be exposed if he’s circumcised, and covered with a foreskin if he’s not. If he’s not circumcised, the foreskin will typically retract on its own when he’s erect, so the head of the penis is exposed. On the underside of his penis is his frenulum. It looks like a little seam, and is typically ultra-sensitive. At the base of his penis are his testicles. The strip of skin between his testicles and anus is called the perineum. *Get into Position Have him lie flat on his back. If he wants to watch the action, he can sit up a bit, with some pillows propped behind him for support. Sit between his legs, facing his head. You can sit cross-legged, or stretch your legs out on top of his. You want to be able to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, so do whatever maneuvering you need to do. *Use Lube Lube is absolutely essential for a great hand job. The penis doesn’t self-lubricate, you need to use lube to ensure that things go smoothly. I like silicone lubes like Pjur Original—the best because you can go forever without needing to reapply. They also feel fantastic against the skin. *Ask Him to Show You I left out one crucial piece of advice in my fingering a woman article—ask her to show you what she likes! This advice works for a hand job as well. Tell him, “I want to see what you do when you touch yourself.” Then pay attention to his grip, technique, and speed. It’s incredibly erotic to watch. In particular, I think it’s helpful to get a sense of how tightly he squeezes his penis. If you don’t have a penis yourself, you might be nervous about using too much pressure. But the most common complaint I hear from men is that their partners don’t use a firm enough grip. If you can’t get a good enough sense from watching him, try this—grip his penis, and slowly increase the pressure. Ask him to stop you until you get to the pressure that feels best for him. *Get Your Basic Movement Down The basic hand job technique is to move your hand up and down his shaft. I recommend a gentle back-and-forth twisting motion with your wrist as you move up and down, to give him a little extra stimulation as you go. Focus a bit of extra attention on the sensitive head. You may want to slow down a bit once you get to the head, or squeeze a bit tighter. Once you get comfortable, you can try using two hands. You can place one fist on top of the other, and move them up and down in unison. Or try interlacing your fingers, and wrapping both hands around his penis. Another fun trick is to wrap one hand around the head of his penis, and slide it down his shaft to the base. As soon as you hit the base, repeat the movement with your other hand. Release at the base, so your hands keep moving in one direction only. Keep doing this over and over again. It will feel like he’s endlessly penetrating your hands. *Get Other Parts of the Body Involved While you’re working his shaft with one hand, use your other hand to explore the rest of his genitals. The testicles are a great place to stimulate. Be more delicate with his testicles than you are with his shaft. Hold both of his testicles in your hand, and gently squeeze or tug on them. The skin between his testicles can be particularly sensitive, so try lightly holding the skin between your thumb and pointer finger, and slowly moving your fingers from the base of his testicles down to the edge. You can also play with his perineum and his anus. Use a lubed-up knuckle to apply a good amount of pressure to the perineum. A kneading motion can work well. If you have his permission, you can also apply a bit of pressure to his anus. *Ask for Feedback Don’t be afraid to ask him for feedback about what he likes best or what he wants you to do. Communicating during a hand job can be really hot—and very helpful!" |
I have a confession to make , I'm 6'2 that's really skinny, only about 75 kg. Most of the time my arms and legs seem too long and I don't know what to do with my arms and legs most of the time. How can I fix this? ![]() |
TONY56:Nice analysis, but I disagree with you on Euro bond being cheaper than Treasury bills. Naira value can be manipulated by the federal government in their favour, Euro not so much. |
I am 6' 2 and it is pretty awesome. You're tall but not excessively so. I can change lightbulbs without a stepstool. |
Originalsly:monthly! |
TONY56:I like this one better, with the busty presenter. Keep your vaseline and tissue paper handy. ![]() |
Originalsly:You can spend as low as $1000 for one person, this will include rent and utilities, public transportation and feeding. |
Ishilove:I am disappointed in you, you wish cancer upon a fellow human being, that's bitchy |
Eking:But in Nigeria you don't have good roads, constant light and security, at least most people don't. So what is your point exactly? Like I said before if you are smart, you can manage your money while you improve your self, it will cost you time and hard work. In the western world People run into debt because they buy a lot of stuff that is not really required. System is designed for you to spend money on goods, if you understand this you can limit your expenditure and still have it good, my parents lived in Italy while schooling from late 70's to early 90's. |
Eking:You don't get it, do you? A low income earner in the USA lives a far better life than his counterpart in Nigeria. I will rather be a poor guy in the USA than here in Nigeria. |
Millz404:Yes bro, i know that, if you don't over spend on frivolities you can manage $1200 per month and save the rest. If you are smart you can be doing that while you are schooling or learning a trade. In a few years you would have doubled your income. |
Millz404:Ok, your story end there not my own sha. |
Frenchfriez:you don't know that, do you know food is cheaper in the usa than it is in Nigeria, with 2 dollars (720 naira) you can buy a kilo of chicken. If you are savvy you can have an ok life and still save money. |
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the one on the left has 6 packs while the one on the right has six cars.......Please choose wisely.
In disintegration, you break up into separate countries, while in federalism, you still remain part of the same country, but with freedom to make laws that affect your people directly within your region, and also the freedom to take charge of resources found within your area, and use it directly to develop your people and its communities. 
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, I'm 6'2 that's really skinny, only about 75 kg. Most of the time my arms and legs seem too long and I don't know what to do with my arms and legs most of the time. How can I fix this?