Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your hands above your head and slowly, lightly, exhale your soul. You will not need it here. This is Audioccult, plus it’s time to get low. Example: SHALTMIRA

I’m currently sitting in the center of Tokyo’s Shibuya district. Around myself, the crowds shift and scramble over each other on platform shoes and boots of various sizes. Beside me, a number of things rest: a pair of Rick Owens pants I found for the equivalent of €24; chocolate made from sweet spud; knives shaped like pyramids; the leather-brimmed hat designed by a Thelemic shaman saying KILL EVERYTHING. At the rear of me lies a night of performing in the studio of the local Tower system Records, surrounded by video cameras soaking up the harsh noise Beyonce joys that I shrieked at an excited Japan audience. I can’t imagine why people struggle to become CEOs or even political figures. If this doesn’t qualify as a position of power, I don’t know what does.

As I prepare to leave for another fixed, I’d like to share some letters I’ve received from readers. For the brief time, I played with the idea of providing advice for people. ADVICECULT survived all of a day before I understood I’m the least-likely person to become telling other people how to live (unless they’re particularly fond of spending half a paycheck on blown-up pictures of skin diseases, which many people are not), so I Dave Coulier’d myself and cut it the fudge out. Still, a few discovered their way to me and, while I have no interest in giving any kind of help (very busy with macha), I do enjoy sharing the pain of others. Here’s a few choice offerings for your mental schadenfreudeian altar.

Hello, Advicecult,

I’m a relatively handsome-faced guy with nice teeth and the the majority of luscious locks to ever get tangled and tussled by a bevy of bodacious broads. Here’s the sitch, tho: my gargantuan gut! I’m a serious food addict plus I’ll kind of eat anything really, including garbage and hair from your comb of my date basically think I can grab it plus run without getting in trouble. All day long the restaurants and cinemas of my small town echo with my gross guy gulps. I’m just super into eating and it needs to stop. From one worldly canine to another, lay it on myself, throw down on this chow harrass!

: Disgusting Food Man


You know those packets that come in every your electronics and beef jerky packets that say DO NOT CONSUME? I ate ‘em. Now I find that I’m somewhat addicted to the unique ‘flavor’. I don’t appear to be suffering unduly from it, and I generally pass them entire. “No muss, no fuss. ”

My problem is my hubby. He’s complaining that the packets will there be for a reason, and yelling on me every time I open their jerky before him. Beef hubby is pissed and Best Purchase won’t let me inside anymore. Make sure you advise.

Silicon Valerie

Greetings, Advicecult

I recently received a Facebook request from a former high school acquaintance which, as with most figures from the unfortunate paste, I ignored plus swiftly forgot. A few days later, I started my new job. Who have should I see working the fry station but the same guy who requested my friendship! As we’re working in very close quarters there’s not much chance for avoidance, every day he’s getting more and more insistent that I add him since, he admits that: “we’re McBros. ” How do I explain that former teachers and college students shouldn’t really be ‘bros’, regardless of present life situations?

Greasy Teach ~

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