BUT IS IT ART? // Man’s Best Pal(indrome)

 

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TONY: There’s a time when I wouldn’t have dared to draw something like this.

TATI: Uh huh. You usually only dare to draw dildos and boobs.

TONY: Yes, now I can add shit to the list.

TATI: Wow. Now you can be considered a mature artist.

TONY: What does that even mean anyway? How mature is it to draw a dick and balls instead of covering them up with a pair of underpants? No, I just drew these things because I wanted to. Nothing more, nothing less.

TATI: Definitely, the name of Tony Single shall now be featured alongside those of Odd Nerdrum, Pieter Bruegel…

TONY: Who?

TATI: Artists. Who drew shit.

TONY: Oh, what they drew was shit? Or they literally drew with shit? And it was shit? Or brilliant.

TATI: They drew shit. Literally.

TONY: Oh, shit. Really?

TATI: Shrilly.

TONY: Well, aren’t you just in a silly mood today!

TATI: And you’re in a shitty mood.

TONY: Well, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about god being a palindrome of dog—god being a dog’s leavings, if you will. Perhaps god’s not the great almighty being we make him out to be. Perhaps we ought to hold dogs in higher esteem.

TATI: What a weird concept. Was it a car or a cat I saw?

TONY: Huh?!

TATI: Perhaps cars are not the great almighty beings we make them out to be. Perhaps we ought to hold cats in higher esteem.

TONY: But… but… Cats. Cars. They’re not palindromes! You’re completely ruining my whole point!

TATI: But… but… Your ‘shit’ doesn’t spell ‘Tony’ backwards!

TONY: Are you calling me shit?

TATI: No way! I’m honestly trying to follow your shitty logic.

TONY: I’m wondering how many times we can get away with saying the word ‘shit’ in this discussion…

TATI: I suppose we’re going to get beans anyway, but not because of some doo doo balls on your picture, Tony.

TONY: I literally have no idea what you just said.

TATI: I suppose our readers will tell you. I just know I don’t want to get beans.

TONY: What the shit does your ‘get beans’ mean? I’m so confused!

TATI: Wait and see.

TONY: Erm… Okay? How about we just move on from shits and beans and… well, talk about the ‘god’ part of my illustration?

(Tati begins to walk away.)

TONY: Tati? Hey! Wait! TATI?!

(She pays absolutely no attention to him.)

TONY: Well… shit.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

Oops!… We Did It Again (a Double Portion)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2015-2018

the Alabai

…I am still keeping this old dog collar. Why not? I always was a sentimental person. It is not just an old threadbare piece of a leather. It is my first dog collar.

I was afraid of dogs in my childhood, was afraid up to tantrums, up to fainting. And one day my father brought home a huge dog. It was an alabai. My father said that we should become friends with this dog. It would help me to get rid of my fear. And he handed a leash to me. I do not know from where my father borrowed this dog. But they were both calm…

We were walking side by side. I and my great fear. I was not breathing. An attempt to escape would have been equal to suicide, so I preferred this way. Yes, I was little and silly then. I was not able to make another decision…

I stumbled after few meters. I lost my flip flops and hurt my foot. I was lying on the road and not even crying… I was waiting for my death. And it jumped on me like a huge alabai.

Its tongue was cold and its breathing was hot. And my naked legs were absolutely defenseless… Cold and heat were drawing wide, wet stripes on my feet. Every stripe brought fear. Every stripe was bringing pleasure. And fear. A fear that precisely this stripe would be the last. The last one before pain. And it lasted indefinitely… I guess that was my first erotic experience.

I am not afraid of dogs now. But since then I wear shoes with laces. Always. Because I cannot lose them until a time I no longer want this.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014