On outselling and outshouting door-to-door salescretins with infinity psychosubliminal taser-orals: 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:
Angel asks
I just bought a home and for the week I’ve lived here I’ve had several DOZEN people ringing my doorbell nonstop trying to sell me crap. They know my name thanks to public records so I never know if it’s something important or not, plus I’ve been expecting several important packages. I’m pregnant and work graves and haven’t been able to sleep since Saturday night thanks to these assholes that come ringing from 8am to 8pm. I even put up a “DO NOT RING; Baby Sleeping” sign covering the doorbell and people STILL ring. It’s driving me insane the constantly ringing and being so sleep deprived. What do I do!!?!!?
My answer
Huge salescretin queues amass at your doorstep? Why not fight fire with fire?
The instant any salescretin so much as burps on your front door, immediately wrench it open from within and explode forth like a banshee on helium. Kick off a colossal spiel right back in their face, flogging your own Patent-Pending Door-To-Door SalesEntity Cold Call Mastery/Mistressy Seminar Series, which obviously this friggin' chump desperately needs.
The trick, you scream into their wilting face, is to COMMAND the conversation, the other person's ATTENTION, be ASSERTIVE, SEIZE the INITIATIVE. Ask them if they'd grant Kind Permission for a lovely demo.
Without waiting for their answer, immediately simultaneously taser them and go down on them. With any luck, their spasming will add to your technique and you'll get them off even faster. Whilst blinded by their personal Little Death, riffle through their wallet and yoink any cash or other valuables. While they're still submerged in rapturous leg-trembly afterglow, shove into their fist your Initiative-Seize-Orgasmo-Taser, whisper into their subconscious that unless they wish to remain their company's Sales Schmuck for yet another decade, they should totally seize their own initiative and inflict your electropelvic miracle on any other salesperson who dares to approach your door, then finally, boot this Salescretin N from your door at heinous velocity and against the pelvis of the Salescretin N+1 no doubt attempting to swoop in close behind.
If you've played your psychosubliminal cards right, Salescretin N will perform this exact same genital ballad against Salescretin N+1 and both will immediately pelvicly terrorise N+2, then N+3, and so on. The Salescretin snowball avalanche will accrete and roll backwards forever, disappearing back over the horizon at around N+10,000, leaving you in blissful silence. Now enjoy that lovely snooze.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/7/on-outselling-and-outshouting-door-to-door-salescretins-with-infinity-psychosubliminal-taser-orals-todays-terrible-advice
Hungry for more?
Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
The earthy wisdom of elongating your womb into adjacent postcodes: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Substack needs more of this glorious creative chaos. The 'separate postcode' theory is a masterpiece of terrible wisdom. Keeping this in mind for the next time life gets too loud”
On scheming bitches, Antarctic science side quests, extra-gorgeous ponies, and the Zodiac Killer: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Hoooollllyyyy shit Mikey! The transition from "your husband might be keeping secrets" to "maybe she's running a wedding-vow-renewal side hustle at the South Pole" was so fucking wild that by the end I was fully invested in the horse conspiracy. 😂😂😂😂😂😂”
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?