How to avoid embarrassing your mum by spreading 10^50 gay gents across the universe: today's TERRIBLE advice
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花栗栖 asks
I’m a man and I just bottomed for another man.
What do now??
My answer
What's the issue, exactly? That you're undergoing nothing but bottoming? That you're Receiving penis, yet neglecting to Give it? That you're feeling guilty about hoarding and stockpiling all the local penis up your bum like a great greedyguts and leaving none for others? Didn't your folks ever teach you to be generous? Why would you embarrass your mum so? Bro. Bro! Not cool bro.
But ... that's the whole idea of anal chains, isn't it? To allow most bottomphobic gents to counterbalance their inadvertent stockpiling by means of the bloke ahead, right? Works a treat. Unless you're the foremost bloke in the entire chain, of course, but in my experience that's mollified by being able to pilot and vroom the chain around one's chateau host-venue, like an extra-gnarly Human Centipede conga line. God that's fun.
But perhaps you're among the 99% of people who are fans of neither conga nor the Human Centipede movies. That stance is honestly incredibly rational, but if so, then you and your gang shall need to reassert rectal egalitarianism by bending your chain into a torus. Plug Gent First into Gent Last in a magnificent fleshy pretzel.
But with fewer than around thirteen blokes, I find that's almost impossible. Unless you're all contortionists. And you'd only mentioned yourself and your single partner. So let us graduate to Advanced Bumming studies.
Ever wondered why cosmologists and particle physicists are always so goddamn chirpy? They've mastered the physics and mathematics of non-Euclidian anal chains, that's why.
What the hell's that, you ask? Okay. Grab a coffee or something. This next info-dump is brief but mind-bending.
You know how space can be curved through higher dimensions? Travel a sufficiently vast distance in a straight line and you'll end back at your starting point. A bit like that bit in The Matrix, or like circumnavigating a 3D sphere like Earth but 4D and universe-sized.
And universes tend to be bloody huge. Especially ours. The most distant specks in the Hubble Space Telescope's Ultra-Deep Field are about 13 billion light-years away. Holy crap. So if our own universe is indeed curved, its round-trip distance from and to any point will be at least that distance. A perfectly straight anal chain of perhaps 10^50 gents could theoretically loop that grand galactic loop, with Gent First humping Gent Last, and now all participants remain happy and content, even the bottomphobic.
But ever tried rounding up even a mere 10^48 incredibly gay men then spreading them across the entire universe? Various chums and I managed that shit a few times, way back in the '80s, but good god we still had the youth and vigour to withstand four-day meth benders without spending the next month faking sickies. These days we're all hideously wealthy tycoons, and thus possess the moola to simply rent time machines and nip back to just after the Big Bang, back when the universe itself was exploding from a zero-dimensional point source, and for a brief and glorious time was so young and so cramped that you only needed a few stout lads tops to gleefully anal-chain its entire breadth. We called it TARDIS-fucking.
I suppose you and your consort might prefer a bit of privacy? Just the two of you? In my experience, anal-chaining with blokes who actually take care of their figures each require merely 20-30cm of spacing, so let's give you two a solid half-metre total. Any particle physicist will tell you that our universe spanned 0.5m at approximately a nanosecond after the Big Bang, so you'll need to commence and conclude your humpings bloody fast before our nascent Universe's expansion rips you both apart. Problem solved.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2026/5/how-to-avoid-embarrassing-your-mum-by-spreading-1050-gay-gents-across-the-universe-todays-terrible-advice
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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:
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Part Five: [soon, baby]
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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?
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