WITH LOVE FROM PHCN (An ordeal of a cyber cafe Operator) Stolen from CBJ.. If you understand a little Yoruba, you would see the joke in the picture, and as for the joke itself, many might have seen this but I particularly love this joke just for the clean and clear English structure, so if you haven't seen this joke before?? Have fun. PHCN = Power Holding Company of Nigeria PHCN = NEPA “These crazy people” My boss huffed under his breath. PHCN had done exactly what they knew how to do best. The problem with this for me was that the cybercafé where I worked as an attendant was at the top floor of a three storeyed building. Following a fire scare the previous year, the landlord had insisted that all generators were to be situated on the ground floor. Meaning that each time someone’s fingers got itchy at PHCN, I would have to go down and climb back up an exhausting flight of stairs. The problem with the absence of power for my boss was having to hear the customers moan and whinge, something, he had told me in confidence, he hated even more than PHCN (and my boss hated PHCN with more than a passion). “Na wa o”, moaned a customer, as if on cue. The computer he was using had gone off because the UPS it was connected to was bad. “Upon all the money wey una dey collet for pesin hand, una no fit by korret GPS.” “It’s called a UPS,” I heard my boss mutter before saying aloud to the man, “sorry sir, power will be back just as soon as we turn on the generator.” We, meaning me, of course. Then he turned to me and said, “Go turn the gen on.” I heaved a sigh of frustration as I imagined the flight of stairs I would be going down shortly before running back up. Then I dragged myself up from where I was seated and headed for the stairs. When I got to the stair well, I took a moment to survey what lay ahead of me. The stairs loomed large and menacing, stretching all the way down into infinity. In spite of the fact that it was a sunny afternoon, the stairwell was dark, like it was really inside Dracula’s castle and I was somehow Van Helsing. Well, better get it over with, I thought to myself, taking the stairs. It took me nearly a full minute to emerge from the stairwell on the ground floor then head all the way to the back of the building where all the generators of the building’s inhabitants were located. My boss had had a long, drawn out argument with the landlord over having to take his generator downstairs and to the back of the building. Consequently, the generator was sent all the way to the other end of the backyard, behind all the other generators. Meaning I had to pick my way past a group of noise making, smoke belching, grease spurting, heat radiating machines. By the time I got to the generator, I was smoky, sweaty and partially deaf. And my white shirt now had new, spotted patterns that weren’t there earlier in the day. It took me about five minutes (or more) to get the old generator functioning, head back up the (menacing) stairs, switch over to generator power and get back into the cybercafé. By this time, trust Lagosians, the customers had reached full volume and my boss was close to the end of his tether. “Wish kain rubbish be dis sef, ehn?” fumed a rotund customer in the thickest Igbo accent I’ve ever heard. “Una go jus dey waste pesin time anyhow.” “Please, sir,” my boss responded through clenched teeth. “You can see it’s not our fault. PHCN…” “Na pee hesh see en carry una jaynayraytor rish downstays?” the man cut in. I could see from my boss’ facial expression that he was about to punch someone. He was simply not up to having to explain why the generator wasn’t closer and that if he did part his lips to respond, the words that would emerge would be far from complimentary. “You’ve switched over to the gen, right?” He asked me instead. I nodded in response. “Sorry for the delay,” he announced to the customers. “You can continue browsing. We’ll add five minutes to your browsing time to make up for any lost time.” “Fiveteen minis!” yelled Igbo accent. “Waitin I go use five minis do?” “Sir we cannot add more tha…..” My boss broke off to let off a sigh of annoyed frustration. “Add five minutes to their time,” he said to me instead. Igbo Accent was appalled. “Come hia!” he hissed. “So you wan do like say you no hear wetin I dey talk, abi?” My boss quietly ignored him but was obviously seething with rage on the inside. This was a prime specimen of the kind of customers he didn’t like. When people like this were around, my boss was always on edge and most times, I would bear the brunt of his displeasure. Not wanting that, I swiftly went to perform the task he had assigned me to do. As I reached for the mouse to begin the task, a green light went on somewhere above on the wall adjacent to where I was seated. PHCN power was back on. “Leave what you’re doing and go switch off the generator!” My boss yelped. “That’s how you waste my fuel all the time!” Imagine! The very cheek, if I could call it that! Wasn’t he the one that had asked me to do what I was about doing? Now he was snapping at me like all I had been doing all day was sitting cross legged while he bustled about attending to customers. Don’t get me wrong, my boss is actually a nice man but when he gets like this, all his subordinates begin to feel like buying rifles and shooting people. Exactly how I felt right now but seeing as, at the moment, he didn’t give a rat’s Bottom weather I shot people or moved to Morrocco to start a rock band, I decided to do what he said without another word though, like him, I was boiling on the inside. I nearly growled as I reached the head of the stairs. Down the stairs, to the back yard and to it’s opposite end, switched the generator off, puffed up the stairs (don’t get the wrong idea, i’m not fat!), switched over to PHCN power and was back in the cybercafe, a harried man. The lights were still off. “They’ve taken the light again,” my boss said flatly. “Go and switch the gen back on.” Now I was in a black mood. Each step I took down the stairs brought black murder to mind. If I could just lay my hands on the bastards in charge of the power switching at the PHCN substation! And also that silly landlord that had mandated that all generators were to be kept on the ground floor and then maliciously sent ours to the opposite end of the backyard! I would make them shed many unhappy tears! “Can you help me switch my generator on?” The voice rudely cutting into my rather pleasant thoughts of vengeance belonged to the lady that owned the beauty salon on the ground floor. I took a moment to suppress the obscenities my mind so wanted me to yell at her, then nodded stiffly and marched away without a word. Back at the backyard, I switched on our generator and then the salon lady’s generator before taking a look at myself. There was no way I was going to be wearing that shirt ever again. Or maybe I would. The spots of grease kind of looked like a design on the shirt. Probably that was the explanation I would give anyone that asks. I could barely see as I trudged back up the stairs; I was so angry. Back in the cafe, my boss and Igbo accent were already going at it full volume. “…….and what do you know?” My boss raged. “You think it’s about coming to someone’s cybercafe to make noise? Buy your own computer, buy a modem, get an internet subscription, AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” “See dis man o!” retorted Igbo accent, looking wildly round at the other customers who were now more interested in the ongoing argument than whatever had brought them here in the first place. “Na so you dey talk to customer? See, if you talk rubbish ehn, I go just close dis ya shop hia!” “Close it na!” My boss yelled, switching to pidging English and very ready to start throwing punches. “Close am! You get mouth, abi? Close my cafe!” He then turned over to me. “If this man ever comes here to browse again and you sell a time ticket to him, one of us will leave here on a stretcher and I'm sure it won’t be me.” Me? Now what did I do? What was my business with their argument? I was already annoyed at having to descend then mount up that annoying flight of stairs that I wished would collapse already so I’d have an excuse for not climbing them again and he wanted to drag me into their tiff? Now I FELT like YELLING at someone! Besides, what gave him the impression that if it came to a straight duke-it-out between us, I would be the one leaving on a stretcher? That silly green bulb blinked back on. “Light’s back,” my boss said, noticing it inspite of his anger. “Go switch the gen off.” Then continued his shouting match with Igbo accent. Back downstairs for me again, it appeared. I genuinely began to wonder what could possibly be worse than murder. Slow torture to death, maybe. Put them in an electric chair and shock them within an inch of their lives…. “What are you still doing there?” My boss shrieked, taking a time off from his mouth battle with igbo accent when he noticed I hadn’t moved a muscle.. ”You want to waste more of my fuel, abi? Don’t worry, if that fuel runs out before the end of the day, we’ll refuel out of your salary.” Then back to his slagging contest. I went to the stair well nearly in tears. “Ehen,” came a voice as I got to the ground floor. It was beauty salon woman. “Abeg, help me off…..” “LOOK HERE WOMAN!” I yelled.”YOU DID NOT EMPLOY ME TO SWITCH YOUR GENERATOR ON OR OFF! IF YOU NEED SOMEONE TO DO THAT, PUT OUT A VACANCY!” “Ahn ahn,” She returned. “Na fight? No be jus…..” I Ignored her and continued my walk of black rage to the back yard. After flipping the generator’s engine switch to off with as much venom as I could without actually breaking it (my boss would probably deduct the cost of replacing it from my salary), I marched back to the stairs, taking care to leave beauty salon woman’s generator running. As I passed her salon, she had already congregated a small crowd of listeners to pour her woes to. “……No respet at all!” I heard her say as I approached. When she noticed my advent, she fell silent but her eyes told volumes of what she would have liked to say to my face but lacked the nerve to. Good for her then, I thought, ignoring her completely and beginning the climb up the stairs. As soon as my head was out of her view, she continued with venom. “You see? You see am? Na wetin I dey suffer for hia everyday.” (When in the world have I ever spoken with this woman except greet her whenever I saw her on my way up to work or when I was leaving?) “Na so im go just dey inult im mama for house. You no see dat small boy? I get am three for house, im dey hia dey do big boy for me!” (If I remembered correctly, my boss had said something about not going to her wedding last month. When had she given birth to three of me and stashed hem at home?) “Abi,” agreed one congregant. “All dis small boys get no respet at all! No respet! I had half a mind to go back and show them exactly where I wanted them to stick their nosey noses but decided not to. Engaging one of them in argument would mean engaging all of them and the last thing I wanted was to engage a gang of gossips in a battle of lip. Back in the cybercafe, things had got to a head. My boss and Igbo accent were physically ready to punch the living daylights out of each other, possibly knock in a few night stars as well. And they would have, if they were not being restrained by quite a number of able bodied men who had materialised from goodness knows where. Lagosians and their penchant for showing up at people’s arguments! “Ya papa dia,” Igbo accent fumed. “Ya papa and ya mama!” “Just mention my parents again and I swear, na mortuary go be your bedroom this night,” my boss flung back. “Try me na! Just try me! E be like say you wan die today, try me!” I ignored them and set about rebooting the computer systems that had gone off. I switched the first system on and left it to start booting. Then went over to the second and pushed the power button. Nothing. I pushed again, a bit harder this time. Again, nothing. I pushed it repeatedly in anger. Still nothing. I gradually raised my head, expecting the expected. I wasn’t disappointed. Power was gone. “AAAAARGHHHHHHHH,” I screamed. “THESE bleeping BASTARDS! NA GOD GO PUNISH DIA MAMA AND PAPA FOR NEPA!” My boss totally ignored me as he was still straingin against the men preventing him from laying his hands on igbo accent. Unfortunately (for igbo accent, fortunately for my boss), one of the men slipped and, in falling, tripped the others, causing them to inadvertently let go of my boss. For a moment, my boss was stationary, not realizing that he was now free to wreak havoc on the bane of his afternoon. Just as he noticed his freedom and was about to land the first punch (or slap, or eye-poke, am not sure, the way his palm was positioned made it quite difficult to tell) on the still restrained (and obviously defenceless) Igbo accent, we heard a rap at the door. That knock froze us all in our tracks. Even my boss paused in his intended onslaught on Igbo accent. The knocker was short, dark and hard a rather intense pair of eyes. His hair, or what was left of it (he was balding) was a mixture of grey and black, what my boss once called “suffer head”. His shirt bore the PHCN crest. Behind him were two men, one tall and dark and quite unkempt, the other a bit shorter but wider and bearing quite an impressive pot belly. “Who is the owner of this establishment,” he asked no one inparticular with an air of borrowed authority. “Who are you?” My boss asked him specifically, his hand still raised for the strike on his hated foe. “Well, we’re from the PHCN,” the man replied pompously. “This building is yet to settle its bill and we’re here to disconnect…..” SSCCCHIIIAAAAIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!!! I’m being truthful when I say that I never knew that my boss kept a machete somewhere beside his desk and this was quite an amazing moment to discover that fact. The PHCN officials, however, had no time for amazement. That was mainly because they had fled the doorway where they had stood only a moment ago. It was at this point I had more reason for amazement. Usually, it takes me nearly a full minute to get downstairs from up where the cybercafe was located. In thirty seconds, the three men were already out of the building and off down the street! Even more amazing in their race for dear life was that the pot bellied man was well ahead, his belly bouncing up and down as he ran like a ball being juggled by Cristiano Ronaldo. The unkempt one followed quite a surprising distance behind and, bringing up the rear on his short legs, the one that had spoken and triggered the revelation of the machete. Having depatched of the rag tag three, my boss turned back to Igbo Accent to resume their epic battle. Only that Igbo accent wasn’t there to pick up the cudgels. Having correctly deduced that if any heads were to roll besides those of the PHCN officials, it would be his, he had taken off in the small melee that had trailed the machete revelation. So had everyone else that was in the cybercafe. Suddenly I realized that besides my boss, I was the only one left in the room. Hope this guy wasn’t actually raving crazy, I thought, alarmed. If he came for me with the machete, my chances of escape were non existent. He was standing in the doorway, the only escape avenue. I quickly scanned the room for any place I could hide. I couldn’t find any. “E don be for me,” I whispered to myself. My boss turned to me, his face still contorted in anger. After looking at me in silence for about a minute, he burst into uncontrolled laughter. My God, I thought to myself. His village people have finally got him. He’s now mad. I prayed to everything I could think of, promising to devote my life to charity and good works if I got out of this alive. I would never lie in my life again, I swore. I would give a lavish offering in church this Sunday but I would have to be in Church to be able to give it. Please save me God, I prayed.“, ” my boss hissed, turning around. “They should have stayed to find out what I wanted to use this for,” he concluded waving the machete aloft, then resheathing it in its hiding place beside his desk. Oh, I thought. So he’s not crazy after all. Meaning I’m free of my lavish offering promise, right? “Hey, you,” my boss said. “These crazy people have taken the light. Go and switch the generator on.”

CRAZINESS

....and Juliet replied to her friend's
question," dating 2 brothers and their father at the same time." with a wicked smile, she continued "now that would be me, being crazy".
I started thinking within myself if that was "being crazy", and then it occured to me that it was being foolish and not being crazy. Being crazy is when you do something meaningful, in such a way/manner that no one in his/her right mind would want to copy. These days, its so easy to see people consider your level of immorality as being the yardstick for your level of craziness when craziness should be
based on the level of ideas, faith, beliefs, knowledge and resources you
have in you to change someone's life or to inspire change in your country. For instance, Thomas Edison was crazy enough to have tried 100 times
to invent the same thing over and over
again, Abraham Lincoln was crazy enough to have ran for president when he couldn't even win the local govt. and senate elections in his native state. The widow in the bible was crazy enough to have shared her last meal (which might not have been enough for herself and her son) during
famine with a prophet (Elijah) whom she knew not, and Abraham was crazy enough to have left his father's house and follow the directives of a strange voice (GOD's voice) with no where in
mind, the desciples were crazy enough to have abandoned their jobs and homes to follow a man (Jesus) who has no place to live and Jesus having not committed any offence chose to die on the cross to save mankind. All these persons got rewards for them "being crazy". You need not do something extremely crazy before you change someone's life or inspire change in your surroundings, a little act of 'being crazy' would do. Even the bible recommends it, when it says
we should pray for our enemies. The life of a true christian is full of craziness; forgiving and forgetting your enemy's offence, reaching out to the lost souls even in harsh conditions and weather, giving foods to the needy when you have little to survive on. Only crazy people can change the world we live in and just like another crazy person, mother Theresa, said, a life lived for others, is a fulfilled life. Instead of spending that money on a girl just to win her over, there are orphans who haven't eaten,there are people in the hospital who can't pay their hospital bills from their sickbed and there are those who are in hospital needing organs and surgical operations to survive but can't afford it, instead of sharing your food, money and clothes with them, why don't you give it to them? Be a crazy person and see how your world changes... inspire people by talking to them rather than gossip about them, impart knowledge rather insult them,show love rather than hatred,save souls rather than condemn them, put smiles on people's face rather than make them cry.... Join me in 'being crazy' and lets change this country together...


Inspiration for this article was gotten from a song by MercyMe titled 'crazy enough'

S.I.N (Simple Instruction Neglected) AS RELATED TO DRESS SENSE.

I grew up as a young chap seeing ladies dressed moderately with long skirt that looked so decent you can tell how angles looked just by seeing them. Then just like Eve in the garden, they decided to be wise in their own sight by reducing the lenght of their skirt just before the knee, while the brave and daring among them skipped theirs above the knee and nicknamed it "cross no gutter".

Years went by and they came up with the excuses of not been too comfortable with skirt especially as the "Okada" age came, so they decided to go on trousers so they could look like their male folks taking after Eve (the mother of gender equality in the garden that wanted to be just like God), and they came up with their own version of trouser that met stiff opposition by right thinking men but unfortunately gained wide acceptance.

While all these was going on, they had undies called "tight/leggings" wore underneath. Then as usual, they allowed the heat of the issue die down and they came up with the new fashion trend, don't know what its called, but it looks just like what ladies wore underneath yesteryears. Only God knows what their reasons are these time around, they've succeded in turning the order around. It use to be Bra above the waist, and panties or leggings from the waist downward before putting on their cloths. But now, the reverse is the trend.

Three years from now, I see ladies walking on the street completely naked, and if you ask them, they will tell you they want to reverse things back to the way it was in the garden of Eden when Adam & Eve were naked.

May God have mercy.
AMEN!

5 WAYS TO BE THE MAN OF HER DREAMS

Women are not looking for the perfect man, they know that is impossible to find. Instead, they are looking for a guy who meets their needs and knows when to listen. Even though women have different standards and criteria when it comes to choosing the right guy for them, there are some simple yet effective tips that can increase your chances of seducing the woman you like. If you want to impress a woman but you do not know where to start from, in this article you will find the top 5 ways to be the man of her dreams.

1. Respect

Show respect before expecting it. This is one of the most important rules and you need to be respectful and caring towards the woman you love. Lack of respect is one of the most common causes why couples break up these days, therefore do not neglect your significant other and make sure you are there for her whenever she needs you. Be reliable, learn how to listen more than you speak and never make her feel inferior to you in any way - you're living in the 21st century!

2. Originality

Be true to who you are. Do not try to be something you are not just to impress the one you love she will eventually figure that out and she won't be very impressed. Besides, women appreciate original, natural men a lot more than men who are struggling to impress them. Also, be responsible and act maturely since women love trustworthy guys. Be yourself, but in the same time be unique and try to stand out from the crowd;

3. Appreciate

Be aware of the qualities women appreciate the most and do your best not to disappoint the girl you like. In the end, you know what they say: trust is like a mirror, and once it is broken you can never look at it the same again. All women are looking for a reliable, honest man who understands them and makes them feel special. Honesty is undoubtedly the most important quality a man should have. Even if you look stunning and you attract women like a magnet, no girl will be interested in having a long-term relationship with you if you are not completely honest with them. Intelligence, sense of humor and loyalty are three other important qualities that should not be neglected either. Also, in order to be the man of her dreams, you need to be able to protect her, since women love men who can be strong and protective, yet gentle and sensitive at the same time;

4. Surprise Her

Take her by surprise! Girls like to be taken by surprise, so send her a text message from time to time or show up at her doorstep with some flowers and chocolate. You do not need a reason to make your girl feel special; you can do that every day. Kiss her all of a sudden or take her to a fine restaurant once in a while, and she will definitely like you more than before. On the other hand, do not overdo it otherwise you may leave the impression that you are desperate, and women are certainly not fond of desperate men!

5. Acknowledge

Always remind her how important she is to you. Even though your girl may already know it, she will certainly like to be reminded that from time to time. Also, ask her if she would like to visit your family. This way, she can be sure that your intentions are genuine. Introduce her to your friends and take on an activity with her, such as hiking or tennis. Never let her feel neglected or ignored, otherwise you will lose her. Generally speaking, women are more willing to commit, this is why your girl will be pleasantly surprised when finds out you want to introduce her to your friends and family.

Conclusion

To summarize, these are the top 5 ways to be the man of her dreams. Women are not hard to please, as long as you pay attention to their needs. Putting it in a nutshell, you need to respect and appreciate your girl, show her how special she is and make sure to be a good listener. If you take these simple tips into account, you are very likely to become the "knight in shining armor" and enjoy her love and attention in the long run. Make you please your partner or wife and keep her happy. Jelqwiki is a male enhancement wiki that can assist men. Remember to respect, love & appreciate your partner.

Special thanks to naij.com.

HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW CAR?

Today's cars are perceived in different ways. Some see them as toys for big boys. Others consider them to be fashion statements. Yet others think today's cars defines their social status.

Some men however, value their cars more than they do their wives. it is common to hear men make such complimentary remarks about their cars that they hardly make about their wives.

Whatever purpose your car serves though - business; pleasure; of fashion - how well you know and take care of it determine how well it will serve you.

most car owners neglect the well being of their cars. Every car is designed for a particular purpose and before you own one, you should determine what you really want from a car and go for the one that suits your need best.

If you do much city driving, then a 5.0 litre V8 truck will not suit your purpose. You would be better off with a 1.6 litre 4 cylinder car.

If you desire a strong and rugged vehicle that can go the extra mile, a hauling caravan that could also drive on rough mountainous terrain, then you can go for a 5.0 litre V8 4x4 truck.

Your cars needs as much attention perhaps, as your health. As the human body is mainly composed of fluid, so does your car need much fluid to work efficiently except you have an electric car.

Before daily early outing, take time to check the fluid in the power train consisting of the engine and transmission. You should not be in so much hurry as to overlook this.

Ensure that the coolant is at the gauge level prescribed by the manufacturer. Check to make sure it is neither filled to the brim nor below the "MIN" mark on the plastic tank.

Avoid refilling the radiator directly with coolant. This could damage the rubber seal on the cap and cause escape of water vapor from the heat generated by the engine, resulting in overheating.

Rather, you should pour your coolant into the plastic receptacle at the top right part of the hood.

NOTE: Replace any rust item around your radiator cap with a new one because that is a sign of vapour leaking.

NEXT: Check the engine oil. It is one of the important fluids that need to be closely monitored to avoid the car packing up at the road side. The engine oil serves as a lubricant that reduces friction between the internal movable parts of the engine.

It must be in top condition so as to serve you better. Remember to change your oil filter at intervals.

If you drive a car with automatic gear transmission, note this: Your auto drive car is originally designed to reduce the stress of driving and to give you added pleasure, but it has its own dose of problems too.

If you want to derive pleasure from it continually, then you need to take good extra care of it. As you take turns checking the coolant and engine oil, you should check the smell, colour, and texture of your transmission oil.

Also ensure always it is of the right gauge. Unlike engine oil that is checked after the engine is turned off and is cool, the transmission oil is checked while the gear is engaged to drive, so as to get the true gauge.

If you hear a thumping sound while engaged to drive, it indicates that your transmission fluid is low and needs a refill.

After these basic checks on your car, ensure that your tire, brakes and suspensions are in good condition. With all these in order, the car is good to go.

While driving, remember to keep your eyes on the road and take a glance at the instrument cluster at intervals. It is your car's way of communicating with you without the use of a diagnostic machine.

CARS ARE LIKE BEE, YOU TREAT THEM WELL AND THEY PRODUCE HONEY; YOU TREAT THEM BADLY AND THEY WILL STING YOU. Take care of this machine you are blessed with, so it will take you to your destination safely.

Church: IN WHAT NAME SHOULD WE GET BAPTISED IN.

From The Pulpit.: IN WHAT NAME SHOULD WE GET BAPTISED IN.: " Most people have been using and transferring a wrong usage of our Lords instruction in Matthew 28 : 19 fr..."

IN WHAT NAME SHOULD WE GET BAPTISED IN.

     Most people have been using and transferring a wrong usage of our Lords instruction in Matthew 28 : 19 from generation to generation and these has to stop. Truly our Lord instructed His followers to baptize in the name of the FATHER; SON; & HOLY SPIRIT, but who was He speaking to, and what was their level of understanding about Him at that time? His instruction was very clear, but why did Apostel Peter used a different name in Acts 2 : 38.      Most people seems not to have answers to these issues but the truth of the matter is that the answers are right there in the bible. The name of the FATHER, SON & HOLY SPIRIT is only a title and not a name, so when Jesus was asking them to baptize in those title, He knew they already knows what He is talking about. My dad is a Father, but he also has a name, we have a lots of Fathers & Sons out there that have a real name but those title is what we use when calling them on an informal basis.
     The Father as used by Jesus in Matt 28 : 19 is a title that has a name, the Son & Holy spirit are also titles that have a real name, and their name is what is used by Apostel Peter in Acts 2 : 38.
     In Matthew 1 : 18, Mary the mother of Jesus was found to be with the child of the HOLY SPIRIT. But wait a minute, if God is three as the trinitarians claim Him to be, and Jesus Himself claimed to be the son God, why did the scripture now tells us that the marry was found to be with the son of the Holy Spirit and not God. Does it now mean that Jesus has two father? The bible clearly states in the book of Deuteronomy 6 : 4 that the LORD our GOD is one LORD so where is the teaching of three God and not one coming from. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God giving to everyone the moment he accepts Christ Ezekiel 36 : 27. The book of John 4 : 24 says the Lord is spirit and as a spirit, it is only obvious that He operates in spirit form. Now we know that the Holy Spirit is God manifesting in a different dimention, does these now mean that we have two God (Father, & Son)? By no means unless we want to make His word a liar. Who then is Jesus? Matt 1 : 22 - 23 gives us the answer. Jesus is the incarnated word of God that was sent to redeem mankind from the hands of sin, vs 23 called him "EMMANUEL" meaning "God with us". Acts 4 : 12 there is no other name given to man to be saved except the name JESUS. When you baptize in the of THE FATHER, SON, & HOLY GHOST, you are only baptising in titles and not in real names. The only name to be baptised in is in the name of JESUS for the remission of your sins and for receiving the gift of the holy spirit Acts 2 : 38.
     Come to think of it, there is no place where the apostels baptised anyone in the name of the FATHER, SON, & HOLY SPIRIT, so why should you change the divine plan of God. If you were not biptised in that name, please do so for that is the only name that can save JESUS.