On narcissistic Russian three-piece birthday suits: today's TERRIBLE advice
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Lei asks
My boyfriend has been acting weird lately and I feel like he doesn’t want to be around me anymore 😅 what do to keep him 🥺
— please no OOC, I’m having a really bad BPD (borderline) day and just want to laugh. 😅
ETA — we’ve been together 3 years and this change in behavior is pretty recent and I’m just confused with everything so. Again. Make me laugh please 🥺😅
My answer
I know just the thing. I was reading https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/138811.Moscow_1812 recently, and holy crap it was grisly. For those not in the know, back in 1812, there was a French dude called Napoleon who invaded Russia to persuade Tsar Alexander to cease trading with France's enemy Britain and resume being an obedient little French ally.
Things didn't go well. He'd mustered the biggest pan-European army ever formed, 600k troops from all over Europe, and most of them had zero Russian winter experience. On the march back from Moscow, they averaged ten thousand soldiers freezing to death every day. It was beyond apocalyptic. The army left a frozen shattered highway of frozen-solid men, horses and cannon behind it, for hundreds of miles. The temperatures averaged -30C. Few soldiers had any food left. Standard soldier-scavenger behaviour is to roast dead horses, but the -30C temperatures meant any horse that died immediately froze solid and you couldn't get any meat off, even if you had a diamond circular saw.
The only way to remove usable meat is to cut it off while the horse is still alive. But that's not quite as grisly as it sounds, because every living creature, man or horse, was so cold that the horses couldn't feel anything. There were hundreds of accounts of cavalry officers leading their horses by the reins, going through a denser-than-usual crowd of straggler soldiers on the verge of starving to death, emerging, and the horse had half a dozen steaks sliced off its rump. And it didn't even notice.
Anyway, what you do is, make your boyfriend invade Russia, get him to loot and burn Moscow, wait until winter is well and truly closing in before he makes his escape and march westward, by the time he's crossing Belarus the temperature will be -30C or lower, then flay his skin off without him noticing, all in one big piece like mandarin peel, wear it yourself like a three-piece birthday suit, then ... I dunno, I hadn't thought further than this. Make out with him or something. I'm getting a "narcissist" vibe from him, he'd probably be into that.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2021/11/on-narcissistic-russian-three-piece-birthday-suits-todays-terrible-advice
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
Be more racist to your sausages: today's TERRIBLE advice
“🤣 oh I can't help but post an emoji on Substack for this one! Love it!”
On rejuvenating shite grub into exquisite ambrosia by guzzling pints of 800C+ molten salt: today's TERRIBLE advice
“I have absolutely no idea where your brain comes up with this stuff, but it gave me a laugh. Lol!”
On wankster hipster biohackers, smuggling engagement rings in coworker tumours, dreadful sorceressry, and pissing off all surgeons: today's TERRIBLE advice
“haha love the dark humour.”
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?