On combining embryonic womb-ly Powers like a horrible maternal Captain Planet: Today's TERRIBLE advice
FB’s “TERRIBLE advice” group births GLORIOUS creative chaos. It’s funky. It’s fab. It ups life’s Good Bits. Do try some:
Njegoš asks
Cousin and his wife keep calling me to come over and stay for a few days, but they have 3 spoiled children and I don't wanna deal with that crap again. I've ran out of excuses as to why I can't come. What's my excuse?
My answer
Inform Cousin+Wife that their three spoiled children are actually your own parents. Yeah. All three. Bonus points if they're all the same gender. You daren't come around because they're abusive and they beat you.
If Cousin+Wife retort that this is impossible because (1) offspring are produced by two parents not three, and (2) they've known you longer than their three brats have existed, hotly retort by pointing out that their three brats figured out how to combine their literally embryonic powers like a kind of horrible maternal Captain Planet, then gave birth to you while they were still inside their mum's womb.
Mum didn't even notice your birth from first their combined interior-womb and then your escape from her exterior-womb because she's just such a horrifically negligent parent, and that's what caused their propensity for abuse, so everything's actually her fault and she should feel terrible.
If one or both continue to give you any crap about this, tell them that the only reason their three sprogs possess Captain-Planet-powers in the first place is the same reason the Planeteers do, in the cartoon: their surrounding pollution levels are off the scale, and choke them and stifle them and bleach their bones. It's wrecking them. Cultivation of Captain-Planet-esque powers is the only way they can fight back. Mum should perhaps consider throttling back on the fags and booze and cocaine and meth. Tell both that Pablo Escobar called you at 3am yet again, pleading about "oh man, I thought I was a tough-as-nails coke kingpin, but this broad's nose is a bottomless pit! I sold twenty thousand tons of cocaine last year. She snuffled up the lot! You couldn't have a word with her, could you? I pity her kids, is all."
Either that or tell them their infants out-whiskey'd you again and your hangover is crippling.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2021/11/on-combining-embryonic-womb-ly-powers-like-a-horrible-maternal-captain-planet-todays-terrible-advice
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
On gaggles of hussies, showers of floozies, bullshit pro-breasts praise, and vast adult babies: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Sometimes laughter can make a point that outrage cannot. The satire isn't really about revenge....it's about showing how ridiculous it is that mothers are still criticized for feeding their children. Always love reading your work!”
Mt. Doom vs Chernobyl, billions of twitchy-schnozzed squirrels, and ceramic/asbestos rigor mortis: today’s TERRIBLE advice
“This "Sexyverse Advice" piece is a wild ride through a chaotic, creative landscape that feels like it’s built on a foundation of pure "Terrible Advice." The contrast between the apocalyptic imagery of Mt. Doom and Chernobyl and the surreal visual of "twitchy-schnozzed squirrels" creates a sharp, funky friction. ”
Rolls Royce IUDs, orgy lube droughts, Super-DUPER-Dracula, and nom-nom-ing Las Vegas: today's TERRIBLE advice
“As a perimenopausal woman, I must protest the fact that I laughed so hard at this -- tut-tut like a cranky lesbian great-aunt scorning an orgy’s lube drought -- that I almost peed myself.”
Bullshit Banquet: the SEXYVERSE NOVELS
*ahem*
IN A WORLD where wars are fought with romance and flirting and delicious erotic TENSION, the rivalries throbbing between history’s Great Powers have become a BUTTLOAD more bubbly, with fewer hideous massacres of musket and cannon, and OODLES more frisky cunnilingus contests:
The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
Part One: The Knights Of Raw Phwoar
Might Earth’s free nations drown under terrifying tornadoes of French femme-foam? Like hell, shout Britain’s Royal Marines Sex Commandos. Let’s assassinate France’s Imperatrix Brigitte Bardot! Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?
Part Two: The Soviet Sluts Superb
Turns out out-flirting Imperatrix Bardot is like trying to wank off Mt. Blanc when it’s wanking you back. Plan B: skedaddle, regroup, out-flirt the entirety of France and get loads more practice, then it’s stealthy-sneaky Round Two or bust.
Part Three: The Cervical Supremacy
Turns out flirting with every ladybro Rambo in France produces Rivals and Frenemies and Jilted Waifus galore. Smashing fun, but utter Kryptonite for Imperial kill-plans. Like, ever tried noshing off a world leader whilst a billion fanb0is fondle your buttocks? Want to? Read on!
Part Four: The Praetorian Prostitutes
The game’s up! The irresistible force of fanb0i-fondlemania has headbutted the immovable object of a gazillion furious Paris cops. They too thirst for Sex Commando patoot. Crunch time. Either launch one final rocket-strike against Bardot and France, or Earth’s free nations forever perish.
Part Five: [soon, baby]
Click these and enjoy these and your appetites will be SATISFIED.
Bullshit Emeritus: YOUR TURN
Fancy some boutique TERRIBLE advice of your own? Comment your question or dilemma, and I’ll magic up something deliciously wicked to put a smile on your face, just for you. You put yummy in my tummy, you know that?
Thanks for sharing! Your response surely weaponizes the "escalation of the absurd" trope to solve a mundane social dilemma. If anyone has the courage to use Mr. Escobar's line to their family, they probably will never be invited to a family gathering again...