How to encourage armadillo/shark foetuses to lethally champion YOUR reproductive rights: 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:
Natasha asks
Can't use hormonal birth control because of anti-epileptic medication. Can't get the copper IUD because allergy. Please advise best bad advice for alternate birth control methods.
Bonus points if theyre old wives tales your great grandmother with 18 unplanned children swore by.
My answer
Isn't it obvious?
I can't be bothered looking up your profile and inspecting your species, so I'll assume you're a nine-banded armadillo. The neat thing about nine-banded armadillos is that they always give birth to identical twins.
That's your trick right there. Scour the globe for a really handsome male nine-banded armadillo, get him to hump you all night long and thus preggers, then get a combined megaphone/tuba, or another brass instrument with a lot of 180-degree kinks into it, and begin blasting your baby bump with INSTRUCTIONS.
Instruct both foetuses on no uncertain terms that you respect only strength and vigour and the iron law of the jungle. They will therefore fight each other to the death. Shark foetuses do that, I read that somewhere. Why not armadillo foetuses too? You will allow the victor to leave your womb only when they've killed their sibling. What's the old saying: your house, your rules, right?
Then find some way of throttling both of their umbilical cords like garden hoses to modify their food supplies and ensure that their strengths are exactly equal, and a foetal fight to the death will be a no-score draw. Problem solved.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2021/11/how-to-encourage-armadillo-shark-foetuses-to-lethally-champion-your-reproductive-rights-todays-terrible-advice
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
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*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?
I love this a lot