On the steamy union of motorbiking and moonwalking
Here’s a rare non-TERRIBLE-advice post. Yes I sometimes write them, you friggin’ numpty:
In the last four years, I've been pulled over by cops whilst motorbiking, not once but twice, for dancing. Dancing. I'd genuinely thought I'd only been slightly rocking out, but both cops informed me I was swerving everywhere.
The first cop asked me why, and I replied "oh, just general high spirits", then had to seriously bite my tongue to avoid continuing with "and by 'high spirits' I don't mean stoned and drunk." Then he breathalysed me. At 2pm. Can't think why.
The second occurrence was a year or two later, in rush hour. The cop in question was a woman in her mid-20s, and I swear I'd never before encountered a police officer attempt to read someone the riot act whilst juuuust succeeding at not cracking up laughing. I'd also never witnessed a cop's eyes shine so much.
Don't get me wrong, both cops had and have a point. Rocking out that hard whilst motorbiking is genuinely a bad idea. God, it was fun though. Got to stay sane somehow.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/7/on-the-steamy-union-of-motorbiking-and-moonwalking
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
The trembly tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Lol... I saved this, just took my time to read it now... smh.... terrible, terrible advice. Lol. Who even asks you questions?!”
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.”
The most American and/or delicious reaction possible to the latest heinous Y'all Qaeda porn ban: today's TERRIBLE advice
“You are mostly suggested on my feed. I love your work. I have already been on your page many days ago. Thank you for sharing. I really find it interesting to read your articles.”
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.