Wednesday, July 22, 2009

I'm Back. As Frank informed y'all, I was in Zurich for the "Bad Advice World Symposium". This was an outright lie or Frank was sadly mistaken....I was not in Zurich!!!!....I was in Budapest for the symposium. It was spectacular!!!! I have never seen so many unqualified people assembled together in one room in all my life. The seminars were so "eye opening"...which was a life saver since I was ASLEEP most of the time. I was like a fish out of water without my "Bro-heim" Francis Machine. These people didn't have a clue. The founders of the IBOBAP (international brotherhood of bad advice practitioners) would have rolled over in their graves. These guys were sheep in wolves clothing. They cared way too much for others and possessed the insight and life experience that could make a real difference in people's lives. I've seen the future faces of this movement, that has totally screwed up the lives of so many, and it is not pretty my friends. No matter how benevolent and helpful our fellow IBOBAP members become, Frank and I will continue to destroy lives with our half baked opinions and our total disregard for the well being of others so long as the breath is still in us....this is my promise to you!!! It is good to be home.

Now let's get down to business.... In Bliss,
In what universe would you think that I would need a pump to make my lady smile. You've obviously confused me with Buddy Hackett. I am a pot stickin', heart poundin', bowl lickin', slim pickin', meat grindin' hunk of burnin' love. But my advice to YOU is to return that piece Junk back to the toothless hillbilly that sold it to you. Try an automatic milking machine, much faster and twice as effective....but it really pisses the cows off.

On another note, let's start commenting on this post site. Our original post, at the bottom of the page, now has 90 some comments and I'm tired of scrolling down. Let's start a new right HERE and NOW.

On yet another note, what's with all the thinly veiled sexual innuendos, wrapped in a question, shrouded in a connundrum? Surely y'all can do better. Sex is easy for guys like Frank and I. Give us something to work with, something we can really sink our teeth in. Let's mix it up and bring it down to the next level.

Start COMMENTING HERE. And remember the psuedonyms.


  1. Here, here! Yes, enough of the gutter sex talk. Let's move to another lower level. Let's talk about relationships!

  2. Oh come on Jim, you only want to talk about relationships because your wife is a therapist. Doesn't that give you a bit of an advantage? Besides, I'm sure she is just a sickening wellspring of the "good" and "helpful" advice I got my fill of while I was in Budapest. Oh no, we'll have none of that around here. Nice try Jim.

  3. Dear Frank and Conor,
    Conor, welcome back. You’re quite right that these dilemmas posted by lovelorn sadsacks are FEEBLE! Any person of near average intelligence can ruin their love life all on their own. It takes professional advice to squander one’s talents entirely. So how about some career advice?
    A week ago I asked you “What I should do with my life?” and I am still waiting to see if you can resolve my dilemma, or at least make it worse. I’m afraid you’re off your game. Are you really dispensing “bad advice,” or just “mediocre suggestions”?

  4. Dear Bobcatty,
    Please forgive me if I've been remiss and let you down. But, make now mistake about it, letting people down has been my life's pursuit and it is this quest that has given me the platform that I stand at today. I have to say that I admire your spunk. You're a firey little mynx. You challenge me to dig shallow and tap into my basest instincts so that I can play a small but influential part in your demise.
    Why all this fuss over "what to do with my life?" The middle of the word "life" is "if". If you had any gonads, which I suspect you don't, you'd be out at that very cafe you claim to see me at and sit around nursing a bottomless cup of coffee, or in my case tea as coffee makes my butt itch, waxing awkwardly about a myriad of subjects of which you know absolutely nothing about. This is how one finds their path. Life is not for those who live but rather for those who pontificate needlessly. My life has come together so well not because I had ambition and focus but because I had the gumption to sit around random coffee houses spouting half baked opinions on whoever wouldn't leave and it was there that my life "fell" into place. All the best things in life come from a complete lack of effort. Think about it, you "fall" in love not "work" at love. You slide into alcoholism not make a point of drinking. You "trip" and hit your head on the sidewalk not drop to your knees and purposefully headbutt the pavement. Whatever you are doing with your life right this moment is exactly what you should be doing whether it causes you to go blind or not. Stop trying to figure it out and start being more asleep at the wheel. I have often said: "when I go I want to go like my father, quietly in my sleep, not screaming in terror, like the kids on his school bus. As the the great Latin philosopher, Flatus, once said: "Farpe Diem!!" Sleep in Today!

  5. Conor, I find your insights on the human condition both bro-lific and bro-found.

  6. Do you give bad advice about neighbor disputes? I've got a doozy.

    See, we have a weekend place on a private road, which shall remain unnamed to protect the guilty. Said road was paved several years back, before we moved in, at the expense of various property owners who supported the idea. There were a couple hold-outs for the dirt road who refused to pay a dime, which is OK and very American and Hillbillyish and all that.

    But one hold-out neighbor in particular still is fighting the battle. Every chance he gets, he rakes piles of pine needles, wood chips and assorted duff into the street. We call him "The Mad Raker of Fern Valley." Oops. There goes my cover.

    This makes for quite slippery and hazardous walking, and it's not fun to drive through either. The Mad Raker claims it slows people down, but as far as I can tell, all it's done is cause several near spin-outs.

    Frank and Conor, this man annoys me. How would you go about annoying him back?

  7. Dear Neighbor Dispute
    Boy, you weren't kidding, this is a dozy. First off, The Mad Raker sounds as if he's a few leaves short of a pile. If I were you I go covert with him. Befriend him. Help him with the raking. Lead him to think that you understand his pain. Make him your Bro.(see evolving lexicon so you have the appropriate jargon) Once you have won his trust begin to show up weirder and weirder outfits to rake in. Then at a time when he is entertaining guests, preferably ones from off the hill, show up at his house dressed in nothing but a very tight Speedo and a pair of penny loafers, perhaps a horned helmut from Wagner's Ring Cycle. Have your rake in hand and invite him to a little early evening raking right in front of his guests. We refuses give him a knowing wink and tell him you'll try again when his "friends" aren't around. If this doesn't work wait until he entertains again and show up again with the same outfit, only this time stuff the speedo with a large russet potato...stuff it in the back. When people get weird...get weirder.

  8. Why do the townsfolk refer to you two as the "Bros. Diddley"?

  9. I think the "Mad Raker" has to go in "The Best of Frank and Conor," Vol. I. (Or, "The Worst of Frank and Conor.") Perfectly demented.

  10. Dear F & C,

    Thanks for your help with the Mad Raker. I am still searching for the perfect Speedo, but it's out there, and I will don it soon, I swear. I have already picked out the perfect potato.


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