On jettisoning surplus estrogen at heinous velocities, Tiberium/testosterone hybrids, and The Voluptuousifier strikes back: today's TERRIBLE advice
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Cory asks
For context, I'm a trans man that works at the only certified daycare in the town I live in. Yesterday, a parent complained to my boss about me working around their son. Apparently, when you have a hysterectomy or start taking testosterone you start shedding estrogen and me working with his son is going to cause his son to grow breasts. Not even kidding, this is what he told my boss (and I'm about to post this to a bunch of groups so we can all laugh at him together, lol). What sort of things should I tell this dad when he brings his son in today that can set his mind at ease?
My answer
You know, it'd never occurred to me that estrogen-lowering supplements might have the side effect of your body jettisoning its unwanted surplus estrogen, and splattering it at heinous velocities against the faces of local pillars of one's community.
Does that work the other way round? If you take a supplement to boost your testosterone, does that mean you vacuum it up from your surroundings like a horrible Tiberium plant?
Now I've got this mental image of vampires trying to boost their T and hilariously draining their victims, and the vampires themselves become increasingly studly and buff, and they leave behind them a trail of low-T, high-E victims all growing massive breasts and becoming ever so voluptuous.
Mind you, that's not a million miles away from many classic Dracula tales. And oodles of modern fanfics. Phwoar.
To actually answer your question, could you not introduce to yourself to this dad as The Voluptuousifier?
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/10/on-jettisoning-surplus-estrogen-at-heinous-velocities-tiberium-testosterone-hybrids-and-the-voluptuousifier-strikes-back-todays-terrible-advice
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
Cross-breeding Mike Tyson with Ron Jeremy, monetising concussions, and flaying Ayn Rand fans: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Wow that's some of the most hilarious and funniest, wildest shit I ever read! Thank you! That's absolutely fucking brilliant! Like the Mike Tyson/Ron Jeremy mash up!? Genius!”
NZ shirt dimensions: twig arms and parachute torsos and hypersonic hashtag-boss-bitches
“This reads like someone doing stand-up comedy directly on the page. The energy never settles, and that commitment to the bit is honestly impressive. Every sentence feels like it’s trying to outdo the previous one, which creates this chaotic rhythm that somehow keeps working instead of collapsing under its own absurdity. It also feels incredibly conversational....like you can almost hear the timing, pauses, and escalating delivery in the author’s voice as the rant spirals further into madness. Really had me giggling! Thanks for sharing!”
Cross-breeding Mike Tyson with Ron Jeremy, monetising concussions, and flaying Ayn Rand fans: today's TERRIBLE advice
“The world needs to take a look at itself and laugh at itself for once in the mirror maybe there will be a lot less wars!? Laughter is the best medicine and your stories give them in spades!?”
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?
HA! I'm not 100% sure what I'm listening to here, but I know it's original... and subversive. So, you have my vote.