SPAM® Sushi #8

Hi there, I just wanted to say, you’re wrong. Your post doesn’t make any sense.
— zqmjbogx

Which one, dude? We have 657 posts now. And, actually, only a handful of them make a lick of sense—yeah, the ones where we awkwardly promote our books or pathetically cajole money out of our readers’ pockets. Otherwise, they’re all complete bullshit. So, you’ll have to be more specific if you’re going to insult us, bro.
— Tati & Tony (Two Idiots Who Are Going to be Rich and Famous Only After They Drop Dead)

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

Teti-à-Tête (With Tony) #13

crumble-cult-210

Tati as TATI

crumble-cult-106

Tony as TONY

 

ACT 99 SCENE 5
TWO AND TWO MAKE FOUR

 

TONY: 23,770… 23,771… 23,772… and… 23,773! Whew!

Tony wipes the sweat from his brow. He’s sitting cross-legged on the lounge room floor, peering intently at a laptop screen. He seems to be quite chuffed about something.

Tati comes into the room chewing bubble gum. She notices Tony at his laptop, and approaches with no small amount of curiosity. She leans over his shoulder, popping a whopping big bubble right next to his ear.

TONY: Jumping Jehoshaphat! Tati, what the hell?!

TATI: Well, pardon me! I thought you had your hearing aid turned off.

TONY: Why would I do that? I need to hear when you’re creeping up on me!

TATI: It looks like it isn’t coping with that task, otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped out of your pants!

TONY: Ha bloody ha. How very droll.

TATI: Anyway, what are you counting? Or do you just enjoy the fact that you can count?

TONY: I didn’t graduate kindergarten only yesterday! Give me some credit.

He indicates the laptop screen.

TONY: I’ve been counting our blog comments.

TATI: Really? And the point of this is…?

TONY: It’s nice to see how far we’ve come. I remember the days when we were hardly getting any comments at all. Don’t you?

TATI: I do, but what’s the point of counting them?

TONY: It reminds me to be grateful for all the attention we’ve been getting.

TATI: I get it, Tony. I’m not dense! But still I ask, what’s the point?

TONY: Well, these high numbers are getting me kinda giddy with excitement. I think I wanna go set off firecrackers in some letterboxes now… you know, to celebrate.

Tony offers a self-conscious smile.

Tati pushes past Tony and grabs the laptop. She starts to poke her finger around the touchscreen.

TONY: Hey! You’re getting your greasy mitts all over my lovely, pristine laptop!

TATI: What?! They’re as clean a newborn’s ass!

Tati licks her hand and shoves it under Tony’s nose—palm up—as proof of her claim.

TATI: See?

Tony wrinkles his nose in disgust, visibly squirming where he sits.

TONY: Erm, okay.

Tati lets rip a snort of victory, and continues to fidget her finger over the touchscreen.

TONY: Okay, seriously, what are you doing?

Tati opens the admin panel on their site, and pokes at the section ‘Comments’.

TATI: Got it?

TONY: Nope. I’m not at all convinced that I’ve ‘got it’.

Tati rolls her eyes.

TATI: Look!

She jabs at a particular point on the screen.

TATI: There’s the exact number of comments in parentheses!

TONY: I can see that! It’s at 23,781 now!

TATI: Well… 23,784 actually… but I’m trying to figure out why you’re counting them manually? Are you some kind of pervert? Do you have a number fetish?

Tony’s face turns redder than a stop sign on Mars.

TONY: Erm… no. I just didn’t see the little number in brackets…

Tati looks genuinely shocked.

TATI: Really?!

Suddenly realising the magnitude of his mistake, Tony looks at her with heartbreakingly wretched hangdog eyes. He says in a tiny squeak…

TONY: I know. I’m not a man.

TATI: And how long have you been counting for?

Tony’s voice is now a pathetic whisper.

TONY: Three hours…

Tati suddenly remembers that there’s bubble gum in her mouth. She resumes her chewing, her face taking on a musing look.

TONY: Why are you looking at me like that?

His voice has risen above a whisper again. Tati pops another bubble.

TATI: Honestly? I’m torn between contempt and respect.

TONY: Okay, just gonna go hide in a cupboard now…

TATI: No no no! You really are a lovely idiot, Tony. You’ve valiantly spent three hours on this fruitless task.

Tati ruffles his hair.

TATI: Let’s finish it together, yes? After all, we have a lot of readers to be thankful for.

1265542358_ornament

Dear Readers,

We at Unbolt Me have a special message for you.

WE LOVE YOU!

Seriously, we could not have lasted these five years without your unflagging support. The fact that you keep coming back to read our silly little offerings means more than we can adequately say. In fact, we’re not particularly adept at conveying gratitude at all, and now neither of us is able to think of an elegant way to conclude this thank you message.

So… let’s just stop there, shall we?

(At this point, Tati is whispering to Tony in a menacing tone. She hopes he hasn’t actually been counting followers too. Tony’s tapping his hearing aid, pretending that it doesn’t work.)

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

SPAM® Sushi #7

Children’s length of existence is often an worthy discouragement, especially because most children’s wheelchairs are expected to pattern 3 years.
— FrithjofDuen

It’s an outrage! Obviously, the children manufacturers and wheelchair manufacturers need to sit at the negotiating table and hash this one out. All technical documents and specifications from both parties need to be harmonised across the board, and made to comply with industry standards. In short, the life cycles of both product lines need to be a controlled value. No to individual initiative! Yes to planned economy!
— Tati (Hon. D.B. in Business Coaching & Economics Wranglement) & Tony (Ph.D. in Uncontrolled Nutation & Pointless Armchair Critiquery)

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

Open-Source Poetry Three #3

Our dearest Writers and Readers,

Guess what? Now we feel like teachers in a classroom full of naughty children! Albeit genius children. We gave you a mere few lines and you went running off with them like they were a pair of sharp scissors!

Once we showed our admiration for the poetic maverick geek that is the Great Von, you started to bomb us with your boundless creativity and flagrant disregard of the rules. Are we cross with you all? No! We love it!

BUT—and we say this with a dull tone, adjusting the glasses on our noses—you need to be reminded of the rules. Do you hear us, MiamiMagus, David Koblentz, gregorystackpole, rebel1955 (yes, you’re a real rebel!)? Your submissions were lovely, but alas we cannot accept them!

There’s nothing for it. We shall have to keep you back after class for detention. And you shall write the following line one hundred times: ‘captain ahab, hunting still, with wife and son and daughter’. As for you, Peter Pondering, you may go leave early. Yes, as the originator of this line, you get to cut class before the bell rings! Lucky boy!

Oh! But before that we need to remind you of the rules and reveal our next line. We hope you’ll be more diligent next time! (Such naughtiness!)

1) We provide the next line of the poem.
2) You write the following line.
3) You submit your line via the comments section of this very post.
4) We pick the line we like most and add it to the poem.
5) We publish every line to date in a follow-up post.
6) Steps 1-5 are repeated until we have a masterpiece!

Вензель

wet backs, sharp fangs, dangerous dolphin eyes
waves for crowns and blood in the water
they wade through utter slaughter
captain ahab, hunting still, with wife and son and daughter

their harpoons at the ready, of fearsome size

Вензель_нижний

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA, TONY SINGLERUNN1N90NEMPTY’S DAUGHTER & PETER’S PONDERING
© All rights reserved 2019

Open-Source Poetry Three #2

Dear Readers,

Look at what Von Smith, the Great and Terrible, snuck into the comments section of our previous Open-Source Poetry post:

glistened all at once as I entered the bar
then a sad, unoccupied octopus caught my eye
she could see the calamari smile flit across my lips
a tentacle snatched my leg as I turned to leave
silence gripped the bar as she reeled me in
a group of groupers laughed at my panic, as I slid by
never again will I wear “Chicken of the Sea” cologne

We’ve actually had a little argument about this.

Tony reckons that this is Von’s extremely clever attempt to raise our communal poetry making efforts to new creative heights.

But Tati is convinced that Von’s a cybernetically enhanced ex-Navy dolphin whose current aim is to hack into Open Source Poetry using SQUID technology and other sensors implanted in his skull. Tati doesn’t know much about SQUIDs, but she’s heard stories, and she makes a point of never repeating them to Tony. He’d have nightmares for weeks!

So, anyway, Tati believes that Von’s afraid we’ve gotten the drop on him, and that we’re getting too close for comfort. She thinks that he thinks that we think he’s overthinking his next move, and that we’ll capture then torture him into revealing the scary truth about dolphins and their plans for world domination.

And, if that’s what he’s worried about, then he’d be right to tremble his flippers and fins. We won’t give up our World Literature Crusade against bad rhymes and frankenmammals! Yes, Tati and Runn1n90nempty’s daughter are in the game already, and they’re here to stay. Are you in? If so, here’s how you can help:

1) We provide the next line of the poem.
2) You write the following line.
3) You submit your line via the comments section of this very post.
4) We pick the line we like most and add it to the poem.
5) We publish every line to date in a follow-up post.
6) Steps 1-5 are repeated until we have a masterpiece!

Meanwhile, Tony’s calmly sniffing chamomiles as he plays through the water dungeon in Zelda. It would be fair to say that he’s having a whale of a time!

Вензель

wet backs, sharp fangs, dangerous dolphin eyes
waves for crowns and blood in the water
they wade through utter slaughter

Вензель_нижний

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA, TONY SINGLE & RUNN1N90NEMPTY’S DAUGHTER
© All rights reserved 2019