_{another oldieof mine , hope u like it}






MY KIND OF LADY

I need a lady that will match my actions
With the necessary reaction
To ignite my passion
Without any limitation
Or hesitations
But with plenty of imagination
Taking me to another dimension
And giving me her total cooperation
With enough vibrations
And gyrations
When am giving her the injections
Through my insertions
So as to grant me that satisfaction
That is devoid of lamentations
But that will get me into celebration
With plenty of jubilation
I need a lady with the emotion of affection
And not of infatuation
But with the emotion
That will give me the inspiration
For all occasions
A lady with conversation
To fuel my determination
A lady with the right fusion of perfection
To give me the perfect relaxation from emotional frustrations
A lady with no complication
But with the mental composition
That gets my appreciation
And gives me sweet sensation
In short,
A lady with the right motivation
Wicked intention
And solid reputation
For an all night action

hi olulu, i've just finished viewing your blog and it was, WOW!!!


Inspirational, keep it up.

u know, thunder boy,
that is da best tin i have heard today,

_{oops, 2nd best tin actually, my babe tellin me she loves me,. . , is da best i love to hear.}

thanks for d compliment, appreciate it man

it's great to know you, could you join me sometimes on www.orita-meta.com

Un-love

The strings of my heart are weary,
And I wish to ease my worries.
The chord of love is played constantly,
To which my heart is devoted entirely.
But I wish I could tune off,
And run off,
Free of all forms of love feelings,
Free of relationship tantrums,
No commitments,
No obligations,
Just live my life,
Get a woman when lonely,
And move on when am done with her.
Marriage?
Children?
Have u never heard of single parent hood……
I want to be free
I got to be free
Free to un-love,
Free to live.

follow this story: HOPE AND THE
ISLAND OF GREATNESS...answer
questions based on d story nd win lil lil
prizes : www.nairaland.com/1224953/
hope-island-greatness-fiction-allegory

I HAVE A LITTLE STORY

I HAVE A LITTLE STORY

I have a little story Excerpt from my allegory
Hope and Island of Great Glory
It’s all about poor Glory A very little cherry
Who had a sorry story While she was just a poor fairy


According to her diary She met a man so hairy
On a day so bleary While coming from the library
Built inside her primary A gentle school solitary
Beside a little poultry Adjacent a bakery

She heard a luring psaltery Oozing from a storey
As she was by the storey Being not so wary
A bulky man so hairy With a face so scary
Looking very eerie Jumped out of the storey
And tore apart her saree And molested her girlry

Then he bent to carry The crying little berry
Who was once a Mary To the dirty storey
An uncompleted storey Beside a clay so miry
Between a lonely quarry And a dusty factory

He lit a fire so fiery Close to her eyes so teary
Threatening in fury That he will surely bury
The sad-looking Glory If she reveals the story
To any living jury Living in the country
Or to the infirmary Farther from the primary

He left her in great hurry Leaving her system jittery
And her future blurry Receiving no query
For the deed so gory

With her face so watery And her mood so wintry
She began to hurry But when she saw a lorry
She had a thought to tarry In front of the lorry
To grind her to slurry

Luckily for Glory A man glimpsed the mystery
And has threatened to carry The odd case to the jury
To be charged with battery Or to the head so hoary
Who has lived a century In contrasting rivalry
With the fam'ly of Harry Who begins the mystery

But with a mere bribery Of a healthy blackberry
And a confectionary The talking dictionary
In the name of big Larry Decides he will now bury
The sad case of poor Glory A case of treasure robbery
Not thinking it treachery, Since gifts from randy Harry
Will do for him to remarry

She becomes now more weary When she gets the bad story
That if she chose to marry, A baby she'll not carry
For the severe injury To her tender ovary
And her slender urinary By the illegal ‘surgery’
In the name of adultery Committed by bad Harry

Shortly after the scenery There comes an obituary
Just in that same January. It is that of bad Harry
Fighting for his sanctuary, Backed up by ten cavalry
And ten other infantry And ten more artillery
Coming from the armoury, Whom he will pay salary
But he ends in mortuary In the fight of rivalry
Where he has no victory

Despite the death of mad Harry Nothing changes for sad Glory
Being haunted by her memory, Now hating men like cemetery
And dabbles in harlotry, Playing with it like a lottery
Using it like a cutlery To cut Tom, Dick and Harry
Lying with all and sundry She brings to her gallery
Luring them with her tracery Glommed to her neck like jewelry
Protecting not her womanry, Drooling pleasure like nectary
Yet not having to worry Since babies she can't carry
No matter her open harlotry

Close to the end of her diary She crosses her boundary
By loving a ‘cemetery’ Promising him her treasury
Without demanding a usury, She was ready for dowry
Which she will bring in February
Having jettisoned her harlotry
Wanting now to go marry
In what she calls a big ferry
Better than a large dory
Which is extraord’nary

Amazingly comes what to carry
In the womb like jewellery
Happy for her mammary
Glands to be for unborn Terry
Just by her deed with young Jerry
That single night so dreary
But Jerry refuses to marry
The pregnant damsel with long saree
But suggests she should miscarry
The foetus in her she'll soon carry
And then proceed to go marry

But Glory refuses to bury
Alive the seed in her tayberry
Whose coming's making her heart merry
And has turned around her sad mem'ry
To nothing but a history
To bring again her gone glory

To tell you in summary
The latter end of her diary
She ended up her life story
Ensconced in my allegory
Her 'ending-well' life story
By having Jerry to marry

Isn't this a great story?