Log in

No account? Create an account
My friend needs advice... 
03:04pm 16/11/2008
 Dear Evil Overlady,
My friend Carly is seriously annoyed because she realized a few days ago that she kind of likes an anime character when she doesn't want to have a crush on anyone.  I've done all that I can to help her, but nothing seems to work.  Is there anyway to stop liking someone?
From, Luna
Evil Dominion 
10:35am 02/02/2006
  I have read the evil overlord's bible at eviloverlord.com, and should I ever become an evil overlord, I shal most certainly adhere to its advice. However, it doesn't hold details of how to become an evil overlord in the first place. Please tell me, how should I go about subjugating the world under my thumb?  
     Read 1 - Post
skin care 
05:57pm 26/03/2005
  So... since I am kind of new to the whole skin care thing...
What can I use that will refine my pores? As in, something simple that I don't have to buy as an expensive wash or mask. Would that be... toner? What exactly is toner? Would it be rubbing alcohol or witch hazel or something like that? Would I be able to buy a toner pure rather than a specialized, expensive mixture? What can be done to prevent/remove blackheads? What about preventing/removing pimples?
Also, all this is mostly for my nose, which is also pierced... so things that would be piercing-friendly are appreciated!
A change in an old routine 
05:09pm 14/09/2004
  A curious piece of advice has come to our attention. A number of dieters advise one another that fat women often tell skinny women that they're fat just to make themselves feel better, and that skinny women should not pay too much attention to what fat women say.

We view this with incredulity. Every fat woman knows that her views on what counts as fat are suspect. (Some fat women have been known to consider size-12 Michelin women to be perfectly acceptable.) The idea that fat women en masse feel confident enough to demoralize skinny women strikes us as unlikely. So what are these dieters dealing with?

We believe that the missing piece of the puzzle may be found in a conversation that we had with a fellow sojourner at an establishment that was then offering up hourly tribute to us for the advancement of our cause. After lunch every day, this young woman, a size-three pixie, would lean back in her chair, and the Litany would commence.

Her: Oh my god, I'm so fat.

Us: [Insert any piece of dialogue here. "Are you?" "Why?" "I'm on deadline."]

Her: I'm so full. I can't believe I ate the whole thing. I'm so huge!

Us: ["Then why did you eat the whole sandwich?" "Do you realize you do that every day?" "Don't you have Crohn's?"]

Her: I'm swollen out to here. *puffs out her cheeks and holds out her arms to indicate that she is blown out like a baleen whale, or possibly is pregnant with the baby from Spirited Away.* They’ll have to roll me down the stairs.

Us: ["Take some Tums." "Don't eat so much next time." "My foot is on fire."]

Her: I feel so bloated.

...and so on and so forth. Nothing we said made any change in the neverending round of the Litany. Then one day we tried a slightly different tack:

Her: I'm full out to here. I feel bloated.

Us: Yeah, you are pretty bloated.

Her: ...I didn’t say I was bloated, I said I felt bloated. *pause to rally forces* I'm so fat!

Us: That's true.

Her: You're so mean today!

Us: I'm only being agreeable.

That day's Litany ended early.

We suspect that skinny women do not realize that they say "I'm so fat!" as often as they do--that, in fact, many do not realize that they have said it at all, having trained themselves to say it automatically every dozen breaths. Therefore, they are shocked and appalled when real fat women don't argue.

We have also observed that "I'm so fat!" makes no one happy. Skinny women take no comfort from it, fat women feel insulted by it, no men either fat or skinny know how to answer it. Therefore, for the greater good of all, we have changed the official call and response. The correct litany is no longer:

A: I'm so fat!
B: You are NOT fat.
A: Yes, I am! Look at my [body part]!
B: You have a cute [body part]. I’d love to have a [body part] like yours, instead of this great fat [other body part].
A: You do NOT have a fat [other body part]! ... and so forth.

The litany is now:

A: I'm so fat!
B: Yeah, you’re looking pretty bloated.
A: Not THAT fat. It's just that my [body part] is looking kind of jiggly.
B: You’re right. And so is your [other body part].

Choir members are encouraged to invent new calls and responses as the spirit takes them. Our only regret in instituting a new litany is that just as our minions' creativity is at its most fervent, the litany will cease to be.

We will find something else to entertain ourselves. And fear not: Should the female minions of the world ever need a campaign of severe demoralization, we will doubtless bring back the old litany in all its splendor. We are, after all, a great respecter of the classic tortures.
A self-solving problem 
04:03pm 16/08/2004
  A minion writes:
to put it short, ive been in a realtionship for two years and i no longer love my bf. we dont have n e thing to talk about and soemtimes he keeps me up all night with his screaming about this thing and that thing, "youre cheating on me," "you never want to do what i want to do," "dont you love me"? but its true, i dont love him and i never want to do what he does and im not having an affair but i want to, and thats almost as bad. but he truely loves me and he says that if i leave hell kill himslef. plus we live togehter and he owes me thousands of $$ in rent bcuz he hasnt worked for like a year, so if i throw him out i never get the money, that sounds petty but i relly need it!! its a bad reson to stay in a realtionship but i cant afford to give up the money for good and i dont have enough to move out. what should i do?
If we understand you correctly, you are sharing an apartment with a screamy, clingy, lazy man who owes you a vast sum of money and who will kill himself if you leave him. The situation may seem difficult to you, but as you will see, it holds the seeds of its own solution.

  1. Talk with your boyfriend. Your concern about his suicidal impulses is laudable. Find a quiet, peaceful evening to talk with him, then bring all your compassionate feelings to bear as you probe to find out how he plans to kill himself. Pills? A gun? A noose? His plans may be nebulous. Try to talk him through as much as you can, clarifying his plans with him if he needs help. It is important to get as much detail as you can--detail is the key to his mental health. Also make it clear that you care for him deeply and are concerned for him. Discuss the future of your relationship as he envisions it. Over the course of the discussion, get the amount he owes you in writing.

  2. Stock the house well with pills, razorblades, rope, etc.

  3. Go have that affair! You deserve a vacation after all the hell he's put you through.
    Implicate his own inadequacies as much as possible--find a rich lover if he's sensitive about being poor, find a tall man if he's sensitive about being short, find a long man if he's sensitive about being, well, short. Make certain he finds out about it.

  4. Break up with him loudly and dramatically. Make certain that the entire housing block knows your lover is rich/tall/long. Then grab your prepacked bag of necessities and adjourn to your safe house.

  5. Wait three days, then go home. Remember: If his debt to you is in writing, you are entitled to money or compensation in kind (that means his stuff) from his estate to pay off his debt.
Some men will need more groundwork than others before they are ready to be pushed over the edge. You may also need to take additional precautions for your safety. For example, you may wish to steer your boyfriend away from using guns as a suicide weapon. If you fear for your personal safety, you may wish to choose a different tack, but as your boyfriend sounds like the soppy whiny type, you should have no troubles. We wish you and your soon-to-be-new boyfriend well.
Decrees are indeed advice. 
02:29am 21/05/2004
  We desire our minions to understand that double basses are better than brooms and golden leeches are better than ill-animated centaurs, and therefore we have replaced Harry Potter with Tanya Grotter. An English translation of the Tanya Grotter novels is hereby commanded.

That is all.
A plea from the heart from a socially responsible slot machine 
01:05pm 12/12/2003
  A tender-hearted young minion by the name of sugartits writes:
It has come to my attention that slotmachines the world over are being unfairly treated. As an aspiring Evil Overlady, I hope to change this, giving slotmachines not only the right, but the duty to rule their cruel human tormentors. Excepting, of course, your Ladyship.

It also seems fair that we do, in fact, get paid. However, this is incorrect. The average slotmachine loses 23% more income to winners than it gains, which, when considered, is hardly fair pay for being a member of the entertainment industry. Not only do we hand out cash, but we light up and play music. These talents seem to be going unappreciated, and it is simply my wish that the deserving slotmachines have some kind of bonus for all of their hard work.

To get straight to the point, I would like to know how many people would be willing to support me in this action. Overlady - I leave a request for fair and just treatment of gambling devices the world over in your hands.

Your civic-mindedness touches us. We had no idea that slot machines lose 23% of their income! This is truly a reprehensible violation of all that casinos stand for. Please be reassured that when we have consolidated our control of the world's gambling establishments, slot machines shall gain at least 33% more than they lose. Those that fail will be tazered and then forced to play nothing but the Macarena until they have made quota. This income will, of course, go to line our own pockets, but you and your hardworking brethren will have the satisfaction of a job well done.

Work, our minions, work! The Evil Overlady needs a new pair of diamond-soled Prada shoes!
A Decree from the Evil Overlady 
12:58pm 12/12/2003
  We hereby outlaw the widespread practice of proclaiming in tones of wonder that when one speaks with a person who has a different accent, one begins to pick up the other person's accent. We are bored with these proclamations. All people prone to such proclamations are hereby informed that this is the normal human reaction, and are advised to find some other means of proving their superiority to the average minion. We suggest proclaiming in tones of wonder that street lamps go off when you walk under them.

There will be a one-week grace period for people who desire to proclaim in tones of wonder that when they speak with someone who has a different accent, they don't pick up the other person's accent.

That is all.
A few brief words to stem the overproliferation of minions 
04:15pm 31/08/2003
  It has come to our attention that there is a bit of confusion regarding the use of a common method of birth control. We speak, of course, of the withdrawal method.

The withdrawal method is not a form of birth control. It is one of the best tortures ever developed for the wayward lover. Invite him into the pleasures of one's intimacy; allow him to work up a froth; then, when he is on the point of climax, evict him--for his own good. After all, you haven't destroyed his pleasure as punishment, you're preventing him from being hit with a paternity suit. Brilliant! We could not have done better ourselves. To ripen the delicious piquancy of the torture, practicing the withdrawal method religiously will get him hit with a paternity suit anyway!

This method of torment works because the average minion is foolish enough to believe that sperm is released in the semen, and only in the semen. The truth is that minute numbers of sperm are present in all the male's sexual secretions. This includes "pre-come," the clear drops of fluid released when the male becomes excited. (Not all males produce enough pre-come for it to be obvious, but it's there nonetheless.) Female minions who wish to become pregnant against the male's wishes are stupid beyond an Evil Overlady's wildest dreams of subservient bovine minionhoodare commended for their desire to add to the nation's supply of minions, and are urged to have a Serious Talk with their lovers about using the withdrawal method.

Female minions who wish to merely punish their lovers are commended to the hands of Planned Parenthood, after which they may also have a Serious Talk with their lovers about using the withdrawal method. We wish you luck in your endeavors.
     Read 6 - Post
Wisdom from the mouth of babes 
08:32pm 07/08/2003
  A young minion by the fetching name of Anonymous asked:

why is it u think you can tell people how to fix their problems,when the truth is you dont really care and have no intention of really caring if the problem is solved at all. nevermind the real question is why do people trust your quikfix answers.i guess poeple are just as lazy and stupid as ever.always wanting someone else to solve their problems for them and not caring about the consiquences, just as long as they dont have to do it themselves.there are so many preblems in this world and none of them can just be fixed with any one simple answer.so do everyone all a favor and stop with the advice cause most of it sux

My dear, we do care. We care deeply. We care about every single one of you, from the bottom of our heart, because micromanagement is one of the benefits of being an evil overlady.

And we care about you in particular, because you show remarkable perspicacity for a middle-schooler: "i guess poeple are just as lazy and stupid as ever." Yes. Yes, they are, and yes, they will always be. Humans are by nature hierarchical, and it is the nature of the bottom ranks to follow. More than that, as you so wisely noted, it is the nature of the bottom ranks to want to follow. Without this desire, society would be thrown into chaos. As a future ruler of the world, we intend to nurture this desire, to feed it and water it and take it for walkies and prune it just like the gardening book says, until it blossoms forth into the beautiful pastel bloom of utter passivity.

Anonymous, you have within you the makings of an excellent third-ranker. Work hard in class, keep your ears open the next time the nice lady with the chalk and the textbook says something about spelling, and when you finally finish high school, wait for our call. We'll be keeping an eye on you.
     Read 2 - Post
05:49pm 04/05/2003
  evil overlady,
i seem to have acquired the evil chicken pox. what should i do?
your humble (itchy) admirer

p.s. where can i get shoes of great evil?
     Read 3 - Post
09:06am 27/04/2003
mood: distressed
Dearest Mumsy ~

I am having a significant amount of trouble in locating a suitable consort.

I do not want to go to a bar and be “picked up” any more than I want to go to a church singles group to be “paired up”.

One of my confidants has possibly found a suitable match for me, although I have not yet met him. If he were to work out, I would most likely have to move to a city that I doubt I would want to live in (even though this possible suitor is from here originally).

Your Right Hand Woman, Mina, and her sister have mentioned a possible consort by the name of “Bill”. However, the best description of this “Bill” that I have gotten from them is, “Well, he’s Bill.” I have also learned that he has had his picture taken slapping his rear-end wearing only his underwear in front of Mina’s sister’s boyfriend.

This does not inspire much confidence in me that this “Bill” person (whom is shorter than me by at least 5 inches from what I can gather) will be what I am looking for in a suitor.

Please help me, Mumsy. I am quite tired of being labeled as the Spare Virgin Sacrifice and would like to take my position at your side with a strong force of minions beneath me. To accomplish this, I will first need a consort.

Yours truly and with much love and respect,

Your 4th Daughter, the Horsewoman of Passive-Aggressiveness
Seeking aide 
09:20am 26/04/2003
mood: contemplative
Dear mistress of almighty power,

The time has come where I have noticed that there is a plethora of pathetic do-gooder people around at all times to spoil my ingenious scheems of top secret Khazor information. I believe that this issue arises due to the fact that I go to school am everyday stuck with going to a learning facility, which is placed on the grounds of a Hindu Yoga retreat center. I fear that universal karmic powers are entirely against me in this field, due to the massive positive-feedback loop of sheer goodness from the Karma-yoga practiced by the denizens of this terrible little conclave on top of the mountain.

Now I ask you this question; how in the name of all 666 layers of the Abyss can I make my evil plans come in to frutition? I have the following items at my disposal:

1 Compaq Presario 1750T Desktop (233mhz, 64mbSDRAM, 1.2gig's left of space).
1 1977 Chevrolet Malibu (solid steel body, 350hpV8).
1 1984 Volkswagon Fox Sedan (*forgotten unknown specs*).
8 Laser Challenge Pistols (250' range infrared beam).
22 Xerox machines worth of internal parts.
1 Currently thawing package of Tri-Tip beef (6 pieces).
1 full set of each: Orriginal Star Trek series; Babylon 5 (all seasons); Due South; Red Dwarf.
A sickeningly cute Faerie Dragon.
Intimate knowledge of 8-bit Theatre and Elf Only Inn.
1 Refrigerator.
All the resources of a California Pine Forest.
1 Consort.
1 Talking Butters® Plushie (South Park).
1 Dead hamster.

Now, using only these materials, is there any plan of action that I could use to possibly distrupt the karmic might of the conclave, or simply bypass it entirely?

Seeking aide,
     Read 2 - Post
To a future Evil Overlady 
12:40pm 25/04/2003
Your Imperial Majesty,

My friends say I am too nice to be an evil overlady, but I aspire to that position. How can I achieve the lofty heights of my ambition, and attract some minions to do my housework, O mighty sage?

Ah, yes, a meaty and ambitious question. And quite flattering, too! We compliment you on your choice of groveling epithets. We do so like minions to acknowledge our superiority.

There are several steps to attaining the heights of evil overladyship. First, you will need a job. (There is no point in having a career, as you will be leaving it eventually to rule the world.) We suggest secretarial work. As a secretary, you will learn the fine arts of politics, materiel management, scheduling, delegation, and making other people look bad. You will also learn metric tons of secrets about people in positions of power, all of which will come in handy. You will come into regular contact with Microsoft products, which will provide you with a long series of lessons in how to take over the world. And most importantly, secretarial work is skilled work which very few people can do well, but which they will hand to any shaved ape with a resume. Based on the misspellings in your original letter, you will make an awful secretary. Therefore, secretarial work will make you sour, cynical, and lazy--all essential features of an Evil Overlady's personality.

Next you will need a consort. One's choice of consort is of supreme importance. Choosing well will make your rise to power a sybaritic delight; choosing poorly will make you yet another bored housewife droning about socks on the floor as you sip your raspberry latte at Starbucks. To choose, first ask yourself, "What do I want from a consort?" Do you want fortune? fidelity? a sense of humor? superpowers? intriguing and manipulatable vices? Be honest with yourself. There is no point in reeling in the ripest and tenderest of broken roues, dripping with old sin and redolent of ancient vice, if you don't have the time to keep him in line. By the same token, there is no point in finding a good, steady earner with a sense of humor and a way with kids if your idea of a pleasant evening involves hot wax and autostigmata.

At this point, a regular advice columnist would tell you to make a searching inventory of yourself, write down everything, ponder at length, drink a latte, and then discuss with your therapist. We are not a regular advice columnist. We do not care what your therapist thinks. We do not actually care what you think, but we must pretend in order to keep you sad weasels coming back; and we are doing an excellent job of it, don't you agree?

Forget the searching inventory. Your consort must be a steady earner, preferably in lower management with the possibility of advancement to middle management; no more than three years younger or eight years older than yourself; childless; and equipped with a car. We suggest a Saturn. Such a consort will have enough money to support you as you begin your rise to power, will not have enough power to hinder you if he should suddenly be seized by moral qualms at the sight of your leather-shod feet trampling the peons of the world, and will have enough time to spend catering to your whims--provided you don't let him take his management position too seriously. He will, alas, be boring. You will have plenty of other minions to entertain you, though, and you can always trade him in once you become the Evil Overlady.

Once you are married, domestic-partnered, or whatever other arrangements your locality has created for the assurance of domestic bliss, have children. Yes, children. Children of your own--don't try to marry a man who already comes complete with children. You require children to do your housework and carry out your bidding, and stepchildren have a nasty tendency to talk back and then tattle on you to their mother. The number of children is critical. A single child will not be enough to do all of the housework, and as you rise to power it will doubtless acquire too much power of your own and attempt to overthrow you. Two children are better, although any decent-sized house will require at least three children to get it really clean. Four is the best number, though. Four is the number at which human groups start to factionalize; and you want your children at one another's throats. The more they quarrel with each other, the less time they will have to plot against you.

Have the children as close together as possible, to best stimulate their competitive urges. See to it that at least two of them are in the same grade at school. (Or even better, homeschool them all.) Require your consort to be the house disciplinarian. Withhold your love until they do something exceptional, and then raise the bar. See to it that they have a regular diet of violent television. (But don't let them see dirty movies.) Uphold traditional sex roles vigorously, because the only creature crueler than a macho adolescent boy is a feminine thirteen-year-old girl. Make it clear that you have their lives already planned out for them, and keep them aware of where they stand on the schedule--post the schedule on the wall in the break room if you must.

To summarize: Become a secretary; marry a boring but solid provider; have four children quickly. This part of your rise to evil overladyship will take you at least ten years, by the end of which your niceness will have been thoroughly scoured away. If, for some reason, you should find yourself mired in the banality of suburbia, one of three things have gone wrong:

  1. You chose the wrong consort.

  2. You were meant to be a minion.

  3. You asked the wrong evil overlady for advice on how to become her competition.
We wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, and look forward to seeing you on the battlefield soon!
     Read 5 - Post
A Decree from the Evil Overlady 
01:47pm 16/04/2003
  As we look upon these lands that are to become our realm, we note that pain and suffering are already endemic. This will not do. We intend to inflict pain and suffering upon the populace ourselves, and will not be able to gloat properly unless we start with a clean slate. Therefore, in order to make the masses more content and well-adjusted, that we may take greater pleasure in tormenting them ourselves, we hereby open this advice forum.

Post your question, and we shall explain to you how to run your life. We are open to any kind of question, from the serious to the timid and from the silly to the sublime.
     Read 6 - Post