And That’s How I Met Your Mother

She walked down the street, carrying a bag with a small, ugly muzzle sticking out of it. Ugh! Since when did we start using pets like mere, fancy accessories? No, I was going to do something about this…

We both happened to be passing the same bakery so I stopped off to buy the biggest baguette they had then put one end of it down the front of my pants. I let the other end jut lewdly past my chin like the biggest erection anybody ever saw.

With all that set up, I made sure to cross paths with the lady. I ran ahead a city block and appeared around the corner, right before her very face. Hell, I swaggered, waving my hips like the cheapest dock whore alive. She gave a small cry at my wagging ‘penis’ and covered her shabby mongrel’s eyes with her hand.

“Don’t look, sweetie!” she gasped. “Never have I seen such vulgarity!”

But the dog wouldn’t listen. Upon seeing what I was parading around with, it launched itself from the bag and chomped down. The whole top end of my baguette came off in its rapacious maw, then it dropped to the ground and ran off with it.

“What did you do?!” shrieked the lady. She was beyond hysterical now. “Do you know how much that dog cost?”

“Hey, they don’t give out baguettes for free either!” was my retort.

People were beginning to gather around. Some were even pointing at the crumbly bulge in the front of my pants. Seeing this, I decided to rip some more of the baguette out and tear a huge chunk off of it with my teeth. One or two onlookers fainted at this.

“No!” snapped the lady, jumping at me. “If you deprived me of my dog, I have a right to your baguette!”

She dropped in front of me, yanked my zipper down, then fished out the last section of baguette from my pants. Looking up at me, she defiantly tore a huge chunk off of it with her teeth. She chewed and smacked her lips and gulped like it was her final meal, right there on her knees!

The crowd gasped.

“Damn!” I said, hands on hips. “I never let a lady do that to me until at least the second date!”

The lady blinked at this. “Then… why don’t you date me?”

And so we lived happily ever after. (And had only cats.)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

ampersand

i have gnawed on misery
thrown peace of mind to the hounds
auditioned for dread shadows &
spun despair into crowns

i’ve swung on rusty wolfsangel
’til twisted tongue tasted sense
depending not on fogyish gods
only upon blood & instinct

you failed me &
they failed you &
the gravity of truth will
bring it all crashing down

i will fall as though i meant it &
much prefer running blind
i’d sooner hie than fulgurate
in the dimming of your minds &

i’d sooner tear all your throats out
to the last tooth & breath
i have gnawed on misery
it’s now your turn… or fucking death

you failed me &
they failed you &
the gravity of truth will
bring us all crashing down

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

PERFECTION IN ACTION // Don’t Give a Shit

Today I dreamt that I’d crapped my pants off. Yes, pants full of warm, steamy poo down around my ankles. The kind of poo that comes out of you like toothpaste from a tube.

Being an optimist, I googled what good things this could mean. Scrolling through dozens of sites revealed meanings from ‘Problems with money should be anticipated’ to ‘Your financial status will significantly improve in the near future’.

Naturally, none of these happened. I’m a performing circus chimp with clown pants. I don’t need money, just a nice big banana to provide that extra roughage my diet needs.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

it should be a song

how much do you really know
is it enough to get by in life
is time the la peau de chagrin
upon which you can make your mark

they say this is the way

can a shrine replace the shrunken heart
how heavy is your dedication
do you wish to join the holy bores
or master self emdr

they say this is the way
it’s your choice to go or stay

have you never seen a kisser
kill off his darlings out of spite
is god the trauma in religion
are you the hearth that warms the home

it’s your choice to go or stay
tomorrow begins today

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

ABSURDIS EXTREME // Case Study #54 [01/08/1962] by B.A. Loney

This is the story of One-Legged Spider who had only… well, you know. Despite this drawback, he was a famous Hollywood star and black belt origami master. And not only had One-Legged Spider starred in smash hits such as ‘Spider Wars: The Empire Skitters Back’, ‘The Bourne Arachnid’ and ‘Webfinger’, he’d also folded a 1,800 square foot replica of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon out of nothing but wet crepe paper with one leg tied behind his back. This was, as you can imagine, quite the feat, and it made him more famous than Elvis and Jesus combined.

In his reckless younger days, One-Legged Spider also starred in a handful of features that some might consider to be questionable at best. ‘Gachimuchi Fibres Wrestling’ was one of these, and ‘Coochi-Moochi-Gachimuchi-Slam’ was another. Naturally, One-Legged Spider didn’t like to recall this period of his life. The mistakes of youth need not forever haunt maturity. And, thankfully, few others seemed to remember this dark past or even care. They loved him for his action roles and his prowess with paper, and that was that.

There was, however, a secret that he hoped would never get uncovered—a potential career killer if you will. One-Legged Spider had only one testicle. He’d had eight testicles at one point in his life but no longer, and One-Legged Spider’s one remaining testicle had been flying solo since at least his porn days. Of course, his recollection was a little hazy so he couldn’t be entirely sure of this. Or maybe it was after his porn days. Maybe COVID-19 had taken his other testicles. Or MPOX. But what about that really rough night in Thailand when he’d woken up in the arms of two transvestites and a pitbull? It couldn’t have been the transvestites could it? They’d saved One-Legged Spider from the trash fox—that pathetic, would-be mugger—and returned his wallet to him, hadn’t they? Perhaps the pitbull then… but the pitbull had been so friendly. But, then again, its version of ‘friendly’ entailed sniffing his crotch. Oh no! So confusing!

But you know what? It doesn’t really matter. What really matters are the words on One-Legged Spider’s tombstone: ‘A dear husband, father and grandpa, your life is a beautiful memory. We love you. Your wife, your 1,024 children, your 1,048,576 grandchildren, two transvestites and a pitbull.’

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023