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PostPosted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 7:27 pm 
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The CyberEagles Libeler On Trial


Contents
1. The Moral High Ground
2. Katakata at Dawn
3. The Fruit Didn’t Fall Far from the Tree
4. Cue, Mr. Dolly
5. The Nerd Follows the Herd
6. The Mother of all Conspiracies
7. Enter the Lord of 10 Pointers


1. The Moral High Ground

It was the trial of the century. The defendant, MI 5, stood accused of libeling Stephen Keshi by naming him as a “Useless Indigenous Coach” on a number of FC v. IC threads on the CyberEagles forum, the Eagles' Nest.

The previous day, Stephen Keshi’s barrister, Gotti, had made his opening address to the court and called several witnesses. Day two was expected to be even more exciting as MI 5, believing the entire legal profession corrupted by Useless Indigenous Coach rings, had opted to waive his right to legal representation and instead conduct his own defense. MI 5 had always been poorly armed for a battle of wits, so this promised to be a real train wreck.

A large crowd was drawn to Ikeja High Court. The queues for seats in the public gallery stretched well into the distance, and Pa J’s horde of unemployed scalpers were having a field day charging up to N25,000 a seat. Many CEs had camped outside overnight and therefore secured the best seats.

Waffiman, however, had been unwilling to queue overnight, and instead got a ticket off one of the scalpers in exchange for his old family car. The car had recently blown a head gasket and was only worth scrap value, but Waffiman felt no moral qualms in ripping off the poor, jobless, scalper who was struggling to feed his family.

In fact, Waffiman had never liked the boring old family car. Ever since the onset of male menopause, he had longed to exchange his old 404 for a vintage Volkswagen Beetle. Like many grumpy old men, he felt everything in his life sucked these days – except, of course, his wife. At least he now had a new toy to look forward to. How he got it didn’t matter – like most old lefties he was better at preaching ethics than practicing them.

So, Waffiman entered Ikeja High Court looking pleased with himself, carrying the latest issue of KickOff magazine under his arm that he had purchased with a fake N1,000 from Maceo, the roadside vendor.

2. Katakata at Dawn

Ikeja High Court defied description. It had mud walls, a thatch roof, small rectangular windows, and an imposing arched doorway. As the CEs entered through the impressive arched doorway they were greeted by a guttural cacophony coming from the cells below the main court room. Two of the voices were clearly recognizable.

“Were you stupid or just being stupid?” It was Enugu II.
“"It’s nothing to do with you, and I’ll do what I want.” It was Mystic.

A fight had broken out between the two CEs outside the National Stadium the previous day. It was hardly a “rumble in the jungle” – more a “bore in Lagos” – and both men were more at risk of self-inflicted hernia than injury from each other. Indeed, Enugu II – a cross dresser at weekends – had looked slightly comical chasing after Mystic in high heels and his best Indomitable Lions pinafore, but both were arrested before they could embarrass themselves further. They were now being held in a cell before being formally charged. The two CEs had been handcuffed together back to back so they could not injure each other.

Enugu II saw no shame marinating himself in cheap perfume at weekends as he felt it took balls to be a cross dresser. He just couldn’t let the row with Mystic rest: “I nearly wounded you! You were saved from a heavy tanning by two Kill and Gos a few feet away. ”

Mystic retorted, "It was the busiest time for selling magazines so I was trying to speak to you and serve other people at the same time. Nobody else thought I was being rude, so get lost.”

As the two CEs became more agitated, a jackbooted member of the Murderators, Cellular, arrived at the cell door brandishing a bulala. “I’ve told you two to sharrap dia,” he growled menacingly. “What about my phone call – I’m allowed a phone call,” retorted Enugu II. “I’ve locked your phones as well as your threads,” replied Cellular with a grin on his face.

Cellular grinned wolfishly again and turned away. Raising his arm towards the portrait of an intense looking mustachioed figure on the wall he bellowed, “Heil Suya.” He then exited the cell as Enugu II screamed, “I’ll see you outside Sportscity, you murderating upstart.” The jackbooted Murderator ignored him and returned to the cell next door to continue his water boarding of Sir V.

3. The Fruit Didn’t Fall Far from the Tree

Meanwhile, other CEs were taking their seats inside the court room. In the third row, in dark glasses, sat 1 Naija. He looked as if he’d taken more drugs than Lance Armstrong. Next to him sat Chief Ogbunigwe dressed up in a Fela Anikulapo-Kuti lounge outfit. Chief Ogbunigwe whispered to 1 Naija: “Don’t know why MI 5 got so obsessed with this “Useless IC” thing, man. When Keshi just won the CAN title, and the first IC to do so to boot? Look, it’s amazing how he did it, it was like rope-a-dope, you just had to see it with your own eyes. I mean, how could he attribute Keshi’s victory to bribing all the opposing coaches?!”

1 Naija nodded absentmindedly and slurred in reply: “Kpom, kpom, kpom, kpom, kpom. But letsh be honesht, we both know that Yobo wash the mashtermind of the Eegush victory!”

In the front row, sat Oh See munching on fried goat and reflecting on happier days when he tapped leda for Iyanfoworogi Grammar School in the Thermogene Cup. Next to him, sat Mrs. Oh See. On her knee sat the handsome three year old Infant Oh See attentively reading ‘The Economist.’

Behind Mrs. Oh See, sat the broody Mrs. Fishward. She leaned forward and asked the infant: “What did Santa bring you for Christmas? A Wii? An Ipad? A train set?” The infant was unimpressed. “Santa doesn’t exist and all I asked for was a good book” he replied. “Which book was that?” asked Mrs. Fishward. “Atoka? Alawiye? Eze Goes to School? ABC?”

“No,” the boy replied. “I asked for ‘An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations' by Adam Smith and 'Capital: Critique of Political Economy', by Karl Marx”

Mrs. Fishward was impressed by the intelligent infant and turned to Mrs. Oh See. “Doesn’t he speak well for his age? I’d be happy to speak as well as he does even at my age, but sadly the smartest thing that ever comes out of my mouth is a wetincall. My, if abunna fit fly my mouth would be an airport” The two old girls cackled, making poor Oh See feel insecure.

Meanwhile, at the back of the court room Oloye and CIC Old Boy were debating who would be in the best Nigeria XI of all time. CIC Old Boy was astonished that Oloye had 'Bunmi Adigun in ahead of JJ Okocha, but his own selection was also a bit bizarre, made up of colonial-era Nigerians who’d never played in the World Cup, talk less of the African Cup of Nations.

Ghanaba had deliberately sat to the right of Green for Life and to the left of CIC Old Boy as he thought the three had something in common – the total absence of any sense of humor. However, the “best XI” talk he was overhearing bored him. He was less insular than most Africans – indeed one of the few to visit a foreign website.

4. Cue Mr. Dolly

The jury filed in – most of them school teachers including BA Prophet, General Trousers, Yeye Man, TXJ and Yemi Brazil. This was not uncommon for the middle of a school term as teachers only tended to seek exemption from jury duty during school holidays. The court administrators also entered including Emir Kongi Jaffi Joffa who was there to take down the transcript and then blurt it out in his on-line Ifa shrine to his massed devotees.

The crusty old Judge, Furiously Frank, J. got things started. “Mr. MI 5, are you ready to call your first witness?”

MI 5 replied, “Furiously Frank, J., the defense calls Mr. Dolly.” A disheveled and decrepit looking man hobbled to the witness box holding a half-empty bottle of Maltina in one hand. He took the stand and swore the oath.

MI 5: “Please tell the court your name?”
Mr. Dolly: “Mr. Dolly.”

MI 5: “And your date of birth?”
Mr. Dolly: “20 April.”

MI 5: “What year?”
Mr. Dolly: “Emm, emm…, every year, bro.”
There were titters from the public gallery and Furiously Frank, J. intervened.

Furiously Frank, J.: “Mr. MI 5, I am giving you latitude due to your lack of legal experience but you do not need to ask witnesses their date of birth. Please can you get to the point with this witness?”

MI 5: “Mr. Dolly, can you tell the court what you were doing on February 19, 2013?”
Mr. Dolly: “I watched Nigeria v. Burkina Faso and then met some of the CEs for ariya. That celebratory ariya was a once in a lifetime experience, but I tell you man mi, after my hangover next day, never again.”
MI 5: And during this celebratory ariya, how many bottles of Gulder or large Guinness stout did you consume?
Mr. Dolly: …ermmm … bro, I don’t drink alcohol. I am strictly a Maltina man.

MI 5: “Hmm. Ariya indeed. Now, please look at exhibit 2 from page 5 of the Nigeria v. Burkina Faso thread. Is this a photo of you and the other CEs from that event?”
Mr. Dolly: “Yes, that’s me second from the right.”

MI 5: “And were you present when this photograph of you was taken?”
Furiously Frank, J. groaned realizing he was in for a long day.
Mr. Dolly: “Yes, that’s me 2nd from the right.”

MI 5: “And is it true that I identified you, picked you out from that photo, in my post on that thread on 20th February?”
Mr. Dolly: “Yes man mi, you did...”

MI 5 (beaming triumphantly at the jury): “So, I put it to you that when I name someone on the internet I am usually correct?”
Mr. Dolly: “Emm …emm, if you say so.”

MI 5: “So, when I named ‘Keshi’ in connection with the NTA Network News story, is it possible that instead of referring to Stephen Keshi I was actually naming a different Keshi who was the real person involved in the case in question?”
Mr. Dolly: “Not really dude. The NTA Network News story didn’t name him but did mention he was Big Boss, the undisputed leader of the Eegus Mafia under Clemens Westerhof. As you know, I’m a big fan of Westerhof’s Eegus and often get myself off …to sleep that is… by knowing everything there is to know about being under Westerhof. Stephen Keshi’s the only Keshi I know who was ever under Westerhof. Lucky *kindperson*.”

MI 5: “Err… that’s enough Mr. Dolly. No further questions. The jury will disregard the last part of that testimony.”

Furiously Frank, J.: “Mr MI 5, the testimony of this witness will stand. And I would remind you that in my court only I can advise the jury on what they should and shouldn’t disregard. It is totally inappropriate for you to attempt to prejudice jurors against witnesses in this way…”

5 A Nerd Always Follows the Herd

As the judge lectured MI 5 on court protocol, there was a sudden outburst from the public gallery: “And I object to your condescending tone, you sanctimonious old bag!” It was Rude Boy who had stood up to challenge Furiously Frank, J. Furiously Frank, J was indignant. “You cannot say that in my court or I will hold you in contempt,” he replied sternly. “What if I just think it then, you can’t hold me in contempt for just thinking it, can you?” replied Rude Boy. Furiously Frank, J replied, “Well, no, you can think what you like but you……” Rude Boy rudely interrupted, yelling at the top of his voice, “Well then, I think you’re a sanctimonious old bag!” There was uproar in the court.

Furiously Frank, J banged his gavel. “Silence, silence. I find Rude Boy in contempt.” The Oga Patapata of the jackbooted Murderators, Mobile Police, rushed to the public gallery and flogged Rude Boy with his bulala before leading him away. “All your threads are now officially locked”, he declared to Rudeboy as he led him away with a swagger, propelling Rudeboy forward with an occasional shove to the back of the head.

Sitting next to Rude Boy, Robbynice - usually speechless whenever speaking his own mind - jumped to his feet and demanded that he also be taken to the cells. “But you are not in contempt,” explained the judge. Robbynice insisted, “If Rude Boy thinks you’re a sanctimonious old bag then so do I….just don’t ask me why. I always follow the herd. I’ve felt like a goat ever since I was a kid.”

The courtroom was aghast. The judge directed that Robbynice also be held in contempt and a salivating new murderator CMS came out of nowhere to take him down. The two CEs were thrown into the same cell as Enugu II and Mystic. As their cell door was thrown open, those in the court room could just about hear Enugu II still ranting at Mystic: “…I’ll knock you so far into next week that you’ll forget your name and your birthday …”

6. The Mother of All Conspiracies

Things settled back down in court. After several more pointless cross examinations, MI 5 finally went for the jugular and called Stephen Keshi himself to the stand. There was a hush of anticipation in the courtroom and MI 5 eagerly began the witch-hunt.

MI 5: “Stephen Keshi, I put it to you that you are a Useless Indigenous Coach.”
Gotti: “Objection.”

Furiously Frank, J.: “Sustained. Mr MI 5, Stephen Keshi is not on trial here – you are. And no matter how much you envy his wealth and power I will not allow you to accuse distinguished people of being Useless Indigenous Coaches in my court.”

MI 5: “Furiously Frank, J., with respect, I never suggested he was a criminal in your court. I do think, however, that you are missing a lot here. The Useless Indigenous Coach cases show that Nigerian jurisprudence is outdated. No longer can Indigenous Coaches hide behind the niceties of being presumed innocent until proven Useless. It is now up to those we gratuitously accuse to prove their innocence.”

Seeking to make full use of his doctorate in moral outrage, MI 5 decided to let rip with an ethical appeal to the jury that he had worked on the previous night. Never particularly articulate in stringing his sentences together, however, he struggled to remember his lines and was forced to ad lib gibberish and song lyrics unconvincingly: “My only concern in all this is preserving the integrity of Nigerian football…. every player is unique…… just like every other player……emmm…..I put it to you that things are more like they are today……than……than they’ve ever been before……and that…….that……….when just a player, he expects the world……but it flies away from his reach… …..tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you can’t replace………… every tear a waterfall”

Furiously Frank, J.: “MI 5, you are grandstanding. Is there a point to any of this?”
MI 5: “The point is, Furiously Frank, J., that footballers are being corrupted by Useless Indigenous Coaches. We live in a world where even in the internet discussion boards, it is impossible for an Indigenous Coach to call up players without having his motives questioned, without being accused of being a spiv for starters.. We live in a world where……..”

Furiously Frank, J.: “Mr MI 5, I will not tolerate grandstanding in my court. The jury will disregard this speech. Mr MI 5, you will either cross examine this witness without slandering him or I will hold you in contempt.”

MI 5: “*Grunt*. In that case I will come at this witness from a different angle. Stephen Keshi, are you aware that it has been suggested on the internet that an Indigenous Coach ring at the heart of Government deliberately leaked your name after arranging with you a CAF Championship alibi? This was done so that when those of us seeking the truth took the bait and named you we would look foolish thereby losing credibility when attempting to unmask others?”
Stephen Keshi: “No, I wasn’t aware of that, but frankly I don’t listen to conspiracy theories because most of them are mental.”

MI 5: “So you don’t believe in conspiracy theories? How convenient. Stephen Keshi why do you think Femi Opabunmi’s and Gbenga Okunowo’s careers ended at such young ages?”
Stephen Keshi: “I don’t know, perhaps they felt caught in a trap and couldn’t walk out?”

MI 5: “Very clever, but can you tell the court what you were doing the day Murtala Muhammed was assassinated?”
Stephen Keshi: “No, I can’t remember what I was doing the day Murtala Muhammed was assassinated in Lagos.”

MI 5 (beaming excitedly at the jury): “If you can’t remember, then how do you know he was shot dead in Lagos?”

Stephen Keshi: “Well, I’ve read the newspaper reports of him having his brains blown out but I guess you may have a point, it’s not inconceivable that a man with half his brain blown out might still be alive and somewhat well and defending himself in a libel case in a courtroom somewhere in Ikeja.” There was laughter in the public gallery and now it was Stephen Keshi’s turn to look smug.

MI 5: “You think you’re being clever don’t you?”
Stephen Keshi: “Yes, I think I am, and I’d return the compliment if I wasn’t under oath.”
Furiously Frank, J: “Mr. MI 5, I will not allow you to continue haranguing this witness. Unless you have any pertinent questions I must ask you to proceed to your final summing up of your defense.”

MI 5: “With respect Furiously Frank, J., I wish to call one last witness.”
Gotti: “Objection. We have had no notification of any further witnesses.”
MI 5: “Furiously Frank, J, the defense has been unable to give notice because we have had difficulty tracking down this witness, but I assure you his testimony is critical to our case.”

Furiously Frank, J: “Well this is highly irregular, but I suppose given your lack of legal training we should give you some latitude. Who is he?”
MI 5: “He is the evil mastermind behind all this. He is all our worst nightmares rolled into one. He is Voldemort. He is Anini. He is Agbako. He is ibrahim babangida. Furiously Frank, J., the defense calls Ayo Akinfe……..”

7. Enter the Lord of 10 Pointers

The public gallery gasped with excitement and then fell deathly silent in anticipation. Media photographers fixed their camera lenses. Teachers on the jury actually woke up. Yujam, peering through the window of the library opposite the courtroom, began assembling his sniper’s rifle. Cellular’s finger hovered over the thread lock button. Mrs. Fishward exposed some cleavage. In the front row, Mrs. Oh See began putting on her make-up.

Suddenly, a thin, bespectacled, pot-bellied figure, his face hidden behind a mask, swept imperiously into the court room. “Daddy,” shouted an infant from the front row. The suspense was unbearable as the mysterious witness took the stand.

MI 5 saw his chance. “Furiously Frank, J., I ask that you direct this witness to remove his mask.” Furiously Frank, J was hesitant, “Well, I don’t really see a problem with it.” In desperation, MI 5 resorted to his usual bullshit: “Furiously Frank, J., there is legal precedent, I cite the 1972 case of Hulk v. Batman.” This threw Furiously Frank, J, but he did not want to seem ignorant of the case, and gave the ruling MI 5 desired: “Very well, Ayo Akinfe, please remove your mask.”

Ayo Akinfe stood motionless like a God among mortals. “I bet it’s Pa Jimoh after all,” murmured Chief Ogbunigwe. “Nah man, it’ll be Babafad,” replied BA Prophet. Furiously Frank, J nodded to Akamoke and the Murderator rushed to the witness box and grabbed hold of the mask. As everyone in the court held their breath, Akamoke slowly removed the mask and then recoiled at the sight that greeted him. “You?” he exclaimed.

CEs in the courtroom were aghast. “You immoral *kindperson*,” shouted Waffiman, regaining the moral high ground. “I trusted you,” exclaimed Yemi Brazil from the jury bench. “You traitor,” shouted MI 5. “Today na today,” screamed Catalyst. “You go hear weeeennn today”, DaMunk promised “Vancity Eagle ko, Vansilly Ego ni!”.

The unmasked figure stared at his accusers and then addressed them in a stumbling voice they all knew so well. The voice that had launched almost 6,000 posts on CyberEagles: “Yes, I mean, emm .. emm… I don’t know, o! I mean, umhh, sort of sorry. I suppose when the idea came to me I couldn’t, well, you know, resist it. When I first started as one of the, you know, Useless Indigenous Coach conspiracy theorists, I, err, led you up the garden path with my allegation about, you know, Stephen Keshi. It was, well, emmm, you know, a cover to disguise my own involvement. And, I dunno, but I think I’d have got away with it if it wasn’t for MI 5 and that pesky CAN Final victory.”

It was an emotional moment for MI 5. He felt betrayed by his friend Vancity Eagle, and he also knew he’d lost the libel case and now his #$% would be up for rent in Kirikiri. Yet, he also felt proud that he had finally unmasked his nemesis and proved him a fraud. To him, that was all that really counted. Eagle Winged and The Eagle’s strong arms gripped him. He was led away in handcuffs to Kirikiri, yet perversely, he felt content.

The End

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I raised the alarm at work today. The midgets were furious.

I have some new agoraphobic anorexic neighbors; they must have skeletons in their closet.


Last edited by Hard Man on Tue Feb 26, 2013 8:22 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 7:50 pm 
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What theeeeee ....

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 8:05 pm 
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:rotf: :rotf: :rotf: :rotf: :rotf:

Won't forget to buy some popcorn on my way home - today na today! Chei! :woot:

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 12:31 am 
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:) :) :)

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 1:07 am 
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too long and boring.. didn't read

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 1:20 am 
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Cheii Hard Man don kill me ohh... Kaii... Brutal... :biggrin: :biggrin: :biggrin: :biggrin: :biggrin: :biggrin: :biggrin:

Top respect to Keshi... He has come a long way as a footballer and as a coach...

This should have been about the one and only Amodu... I would have loved to have a piece of him inside the courtroom... :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :thumbs: :thumbs: :thumbs: :thumbs: :thumbs:

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 3:22 am 
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LOL

wow!

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 3:31 am 
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Laff wan put me for floor....

How can a lawyer be instructing the jury what she should disregard? :rotf:

I trust Judge FF to put an end to that....LOL

Quote:
Furiously Frank, J.: “Mr MI 5, the testimony of this witness will stand. And I would remind you that in my court only I can advise the jury on what they should and shouldn’t disregard. It is totally inappropriate for you to attempt to prejudice jurors against witnesses in this way…”


That part funny die. I can imaging it in my head? :rotf:

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 3:48 am 
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Location: Nembe Creek...Oil Exploration. If you call am bunkering na you sabi.
Oga Hardman, where is the link to this story you lifted?

You know what follows next?

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 6:17 am 
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Cheeii!

Hardman,

So this is how you keep yourself busy when madam and the kiddies are out of the house? :lol: :lol: :lol:


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 8:19 pm 
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Cellular wrote:
Oga Hardman, where is the link to this story you lifted?

You know what follows next?


Wow ... with a bulala in one hand with an oil barrel filled with water in the background ... Abeg, there's no need to state the obvious, Oga Catalyst .. as per I dey quake in my boots!

My diction is much too different than that ... but at least the anti-IC/LC Brigade (aka FC Shriners) have a much-needed one in the eye.

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I raised the alarm at work today. The midgets were furious.

I have some new agoraphobic anorexic neighbors; they must have skeletons in their closet.


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 10:15 pm 
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One of the ills of joblessness.

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 11:31 pm 
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Bigpokey24 wrote:
too long and boring.. didn't read

So why comment?

Will you give us a list of other things you didn't do today?

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 02, 2013 12:48 am 
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I trust the uppity clowns and stuck ups on CE to talk nonsense... It is who they are...

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 02, 2013 2:25 am 
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Bigpokey24 wrote:
too long and boring.. didn't read


Because it ain't about the apple of your eye; wonderboy. Abi? :laugh: :laugh: :laugh:

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PostPosted: Sat May 23, 2020 10:43 pm 
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:lol: :lol: :lol:

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SUPER EAGLES!!!
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"If you are tribalistic you have no right to complain about racism!!!"
* Kingsley Moghalu * Omoyele Sowore * Fela Durotoye *


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