Let Me Tell You How To Live


I like giving people advice. It’s ironic, because I am in no way, shape or form qualified to give guidance to anyone, and can barely run my own life. Which leaves me with a dilemma, I want to tell people what to do but have nobody to tell what to do. Well, dear readers, I have come up with a nifty solution, if the advice wanting won’t come to Robin, then Robin will go to the advice wanting. I have just given my following list on twitter a quick trawl for questions and shall give my unwanted and unwarranted advice. Please feel free to give me money and accolades for this unwanted service.

Rachel, may I call you Rachel? This is a tricky one, and I’m glad you came to me for advice because I would not want you to make the wrong decision here. On the surface it seems like you’ve got a lot of great options. You can either drink champagne as your friends sleep OR imbibe 1/3 of a bottle of champagne. It is a tricky one. My gut feeling is that you should probably drink, alone, in the dark,  whilst your friends sleep… maybe drunk dial a couple of exes, send a family member an email with all the times they let you down as a child, BUT leave a gulp full so that you can later pour that onto one of your friend’s crotchal area and then literally cry with laughter because people will think they wet their pants. That being said  imbibing also looks like a good option, so it’s really a line call. Good luck, and do let me know how it all panned out.

Great question Kirsty, thanks for coming here to ask specifically me about this. In short, no it is not a coincidence. But why keep it in short if I can go longer? Whilst you were away your seat became haunted. I know that’s scary, but that’s the reality you’re living with now, so deal with it. The ghost is willing to share with you but not for long stretches of time. As such they are shooting pain into your sacroiliac joint any time you sit in its chair for longer than twenty minutes. I’d suggest that you make sure you stand up every twenty minutes to ensure the ghost knows you aren’t trying to steal its chair. I would also recommend seeing a physio for the damage it has already inflicted upon you. Furthermore, exercise your pelvic floor. But whatever you do, do not take a smudge stick to your chair. It will only enrage the ghost and your life will LITERALLY turn into the movie Poltergeist. Hope that helps, please let me know how things work out for you.

Tania, firstly, thank you for coming to me with this question. It’s a deeply personal issue and takes a lot of courage to go public with this. I commend you for your bravery.  Secondly, I think of cats playing tiny, cat-sized pianos. I don’t think of cats inside pianos or cat organs being used to string regular pianos. Yup, definitely cats playing pianos. I think there’s something in that for all of us. Thanks so much for your question, and please let me know if my words helped.

If you would like advice, or have a friend you’d like me to advise, please don’t hesitate to tweet your question to me at @RobinElizabee.

Buy my shit here.


About Robin

I am a neurodiverse writer from sunny Sydney Australia. My debut paperback, Confessions of a Mad Mooer: Postnatal Depression Sucks, was released in December 2016. Henrietta Dodgson's Asylum for Damaged Women is due out end of 2017. Will work for money.

6 responses »

  1. I really really like this post and I think part of it is because I also have a deep need to give (unsolicited) advice. But now I think I’m going to have to seek your advice because I love reading your answers. See you on Twitter πŸ™‚

    • I’m frequently saying, “I don’t want to tell you how to run your life…. oh wait a second, yes I do. I just want to be free from all consequences and follow up services.”

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