On protecting your front bottom from relativistic man-swords by converting the Large Hadron Collider from protons to penises: today's TERRIBLE advice
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Merry asks
Husband is fairly well endowed, definitely above average. He’s always been able to put a hurting on that kitty. I lost a bunch of weight and now the kitty is more accessible and doesn’t have any cushion in the way. He bottoms all the way out and I swear it feels like his man sword is stabbing my kidneys or something. I hate to complain because my ex was below average and generally sucked in the sack but it hurts! What to do??? There’s no dads, stepdads, uncles or living male relatives to do and I’m not into chicks.
My answer
I know just the thing. Ever heard of https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lorentz_transformations?
They're basically what Einstein and other physicists were blathering about re Relativity. Long story short, when you go really REALLY fast, three types of stupendously weird shit happen:
Your passage of time slows
Your mass increases
You physically shrink along your direction of travel
Seriously. Your Z-axis shrinks.
We shall harness that. Simply persuade Hubby to hump you so rapidly that his pelvis and all naughty bits are undulating at a cool 80% of the speed of light. Crunching the numbers produces a dilation factor of 5/3. Hubby's 10-inch python cock thus shrinks to a more manageable six-incher, leaving your kidneys blessedly unstabbed. Whew.
Two problems remain! First, physically shunting your beloved's gonads up to such a monstrous velocity in the first place; and second, attempting multiple sex-thrusts and -withdraws means he'd need to vroom up to 0.8c at mid-thrust, then decelerate to zero whilst balls-deep, then reverse-vroom to -0.8c on the withdraw. At your max depth, at zero-V, he'd sproing back to his full and un-Relativity'd length, right at the position and instant your kidneys would feel most greatly inconvenienced. Bah. Can't have that.
Solution to One: both of you sneak into the Large Hadron Collider, gently abduct its technical staff, and force them at gunpoint to reconfigure its particle accelerator hardware from protons to penises. Hell, they probably do that at New Years parties anyway, so it shouldn't be too much hassle. Your beloved's python cock shall thus hit 0.8c without issue.
Solution to Two: transform Hubby into the world's most magnificent one-pump chump. Make him get aroused, orgasm, and deflate, all during his single principal thrust. He'll safely front-bottom you thereafter. Simply blackmail the Large Hadron Collider's nerdy nerdy tech staff into surrendering their porn stashes by threatening them with imminent hypersonic husband-cock, then blast him with the lot until his sexual stamina droops to however long it takes a penis at 0.8c to traverse six inches, which Google tells me is 0.635 nanoseconds. Hawt.
Your sex is now incredibly raunchy and incredibly kidney-friendly and incredibly brief. Problem solved.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2026/2/on-protecting-your-front-bottom-from-relativistic-man-swords-by-converting-the-large-hadron-collider-from-protons-to-penises-todays-terrible-advice
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Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
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Bullshit Banquet: the SEXYVERSE NOVELS
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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?