Welcome to Craccum, where we put the “agony” in “agony aunt.” We’re not qualified to deal with your problems, but neither are you.
What do I get my 22 year old brother for Christmas?
How the hell are you planning for Christmas already? It’s fucking October! What are you, some sort of time-traveller with a scheduling problem? It was July three minutes ago, slow the hell down. I haven’t even come to terms with the fact that it’s Semester Two, and you’re out here trying to make me plan for the end of the year.
(When the time does come, just give him cash. Nothing will give an adult man more joy than knowing you put absolutely no thought into their gift—displays of emotion give them hives).
Why did my parents have to give birth to me? I didn’t consent to this.
That one guy who sued his parents for creating him had the right idea. We really need a #MeToo movement for all the people who never asked to be thrown into this hellscape we call earth.
My advice would be to kill your parents.* You didn’t consent to being alive, so they don’t get to consent to being dead. An eye for an eye.
What are your favourite TikToks and why?
*My editor says I’m not legally allowed to suggest that you kill your parents, but I refuse to be censored by the woke brigade. Cancel me now, anti-patricide cucks.
CRACCUM’S CRACKIN’ TIP:
Exams are coming up, which means we’re all about to descend into the tenth circle of Dante’s inferno (the one where the lecturer bases an entire essay question around a concept they didn’t teach you).
While you’re struggling to get through this time of pestilence and dread, I (as the supreme authority of everyone on earth) hereby provide you a list of things you are legally, morally, spiritually, and financially allowed to do during the exam period. Consider it your own person Craccum’s Declassified Exam Survival Guide.