Can you commission RealDolls of real people? 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:
Cassidy asks
I can see in the windows of an apartment in the building next door. It was empty for a while but three people just moved in. How should I welcome them? (hard mode: nothing sexual)
ETA: cannot enter building. only form of communication is through my own window
My answer
Easy bro. Simply commission three RealDoll duplicates of your new neighbours, then position your apparently gorgeous clones in your own house's windows, in a variety of humiliating poses, in full view of your neighbours.
Spend many happy evenings with your RealDoll chums, enjoying movies together. Something good and loud, ideally involving zombies. Or Batman. I'll explain why in a sec. Brandish a huge shotgun as each movie-zombie perishes. Discharge it out the window and into the night sky.
If anyone asks why, tell them you're lowering their rent and the neighbourhood's rent and they should be fucking grateful. When your fleshy neighbours at length take your shotgun bait and then become aware of your dupes, perform a hilarious pantomime double-take between your house and theirs, brandish your shotgun anew, lock eyes with your neighbour, nudge the corresponding dupe-doll, leap to your feet, and holler at them: "THE IMPOSTOR YOU'D WARNED ME OF! AT LAST! TO THE BATCAVE!"
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/5/can-you-commission-realdolls-of-real-people-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.”
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!”
On gaggles of hussies, showers of floozies, bullshit pro-breasts praise, and vast adult babies: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Sometimes laughter can make a point that outrage cannot. The satire isn't really about revenge....it's about showing how ridiculous it is that mothers are still criticized for feeding their children. Always love reading your work!”
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?