On cheering up the Battle of Stalingrad with funky-wunky cunnilingus contests: 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
Had my appendix removed yesterday, and now in recovery, in an extreme amount of pain even on opioids.
Now stuck on a ward with lots of noisy peoplecoughing, snoring, watching TV, and I am SO DAMN TIRED and need to sleep.
What do?
My answer
Oh come ON! Comedic bounty and swag already squidge from aloft like manna from heaven, but all you can do is bitch. You're not only already blazed off your tits with opium and rad telly like you're a Manchu Noble couch-potato, but surrounded by a dilapidated audience simply crying out for cheer and goodwill and a few cheeky laughs. With a few shrewd smarts you could be their medical-morale guardian angel.
So why not orchestrate a cunnilingus competition? Or perhaps a funky-wunky gender-neutral slut contest? Do I have to think of everything? I've never encountered a dilemma so dire or an audience so cranky that a stupendous slut contest extravaganza wouldn't work wonders. Before you know it you'll be ditching all that SO DAMN TIRED killjoy bullshit and actually loosening up and enjoying life. I mean come on, sistah: just picture, say, the Battle of Stalingrad with each side resplendent in a million latex bikinis and tartan-chrome strapons and incandescent with opium and tongue-twirling all the poontang. It'd be rad. Generalplan Ost won't know what hit it.
I'll be the first to concede, though, that you might find it a teensy bit tricky to first remove every appendix from every Battle-of-Stalingrad participant. Or to perform exquisite cunnilingus on three million brave lads with only your one tongue, even if it's massive. Or to flood a battlefield that gigantic with class-A opium. But you'll never know until you try, will you?
So come on! Live a little! Stop bitching and start par-tay-ing and you might just discover that all your snoozy dreams shall come true. Problem solved 😘
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/6/on-cheering-up-the-battle-of-stalingrad-with-funky-wunky-cunnilingus-contests-todays-terrible-advice
Hungry for more?
Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
On scheming bitches, Antarctic science side quests, extra-gorgeous ponies, and the Zodiac Killer: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Your titles are next level and always make me smile.”
On hijacking communion wine with anti-tank guns for drug lord infants: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Unhinged, absurd, and oddly fun read, it just keeps escalating and I loved it.”
On your cherished pet bunnies judging you a stinkin' softcock, and on thwarting their hideous psychological Thunderdomes: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Your commitment to the premise is what sells it. By the time you got to the rabbits studying every personality quirk and cognitive weakness, I was invested. 😂 Keep doing ya thing, you've definitely got your own voice.”
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?



