On the sublime wisdom in showing every nosy goddamn therapist who's boss: today's TERRIBLE advice
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Evie asks
Help! I'm starting therapy today for the first time today on my own terms (so not being forced) and I'm terrified. How do I make a good impression and make the most out of these very expensive sessions?
Please nothing sexual or to do with drugs/alcohol thanks
My answer
Begin your first therapy session apparently quite placid and tranquil and mellow, but as time goes on, slowly but surely ramp up the impression for your therapist that you are in fact a stealthy therapist examiner, and the Department of Health (or whichever therapy governing body transfixes him and/or her the greatest dread) has chosen them by random-not-random chance for a THERAPY AUDIT.
I honestly have no idea what a Therapy Audit would ever involve, but if you pull off a diabolical aura of intimidation and terror (I've discovered this is actually relatively easy as long as you apply psychological pressure relentlessly and consistently and never give your client more than a few seconds to mentally gather themselves and regroup), then it probably doesn't matter your exact pick of tactics. Just pressure pressure pressure. Bring a pen and clipboard and stare ferociously into the therapist's eyes and scribble nothings without breaking eye contact. Apply copious eye drops before your therapy session to allow you to refrain from blinking for multiple hours. Have friends ring your phone every two minutes and arrange with them ahead of time to scream down their phone loudly enough so's your therapist can hear their garbled phone-voice, through your phone, on the other side of the room: "PLEASE, Evie, I know us Pan-Eurasian Therapy Association members promised we'd hand over our ten thousand juiciest historical case study notes if you'd managed to beat all nine thousand of us at that Ph.D thesis defence tournament, but we never thought you'd actually win! We underestimated you! Yours is the superior intellect! We're desperately sorry! I beg of you, don't unleash Jordan Peterson on us again! His morning-after breath is apocalyptic!"
Keep up a continued barrage of phone calls like this for the entire session and there is no therapist in existence who won't wilt eventually. Keep that fucker on the back foot for the duration and, who knows, your therapist may instead end up paying you.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/3/on-the-sublime-wisdom-in-showing-every-nosy-goddamn-therapist-whosboss-todays-terrible-advice
Hungry for more?
Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
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*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
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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?




“I beg of you, don’t unleash Jordan Peterson on us again!”
Nearly spit out the coffee with that one!
Can always come here for a good belly laugh 🩵