SPAM® Sushi #25

The very next time I read a blog, I hope that it doesn’t fail me as much as this particular one. I mean, I know it was my choice to read, nonetheless I genuinely believed you would have something useful to talk about. All I hear is a bunch of moaning about something you could possibly fix if you were not too busy seeking attention.
— Top Online Marketing Companies

The very next time we read a comment, we hope that it doesn’t fail us as much as this particular one. We mean, we know it was our choice to read, nonetheless we genuinely believed you would have something useful to talk about. All we hear is a bunch of moaning about something you could possibly fix if you were not too busy seeking attention. (We’re kidding, of course. This comment was pulled out of the Spam folder. What else could we expect?)
— Tati & Tony (Two Creators Who Are a Bit Salty with Random Passive Aggressive Spam)

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ABSURDIS EXTREME // Case Study #20,913,067 [12/12/2024] by B.A. Loney

Adam Ant was crawling along a Möbius strip in the hopes of bumping into August or Johann—you know, to get their autographs and maybe even a selfie. The other ants hadn’t the heart to tell Adam Ant that this was unlikely to happen as his two favourite German mathematicians were long dead.

It was an arduous journey, but Adam Ant didn’t falter. He wholeheartedly believed that every new turn brings a fresh hope, so he went ahead carrying a grain of sugar, his gift to the geniuses he would never find. (All geniuses have a sweet tooth, you know. Glucose nourishes the brain.)

While it goes without saying that he never reached his intended goal, it should go with saying that somebody else did reach him. You see, Eve Ant was crawling along the Möbius strip from the other direction. Some would call it fate that their paths crossed. Others would call it inevitable because what other direction was she going to go in? Well, maybe in the same direction as Adam Ant but then they never would have met at all. Or maybe inward but then neither of them were overly given to self reflection, what with being as shallow as an aquaphobic amoeba’s wading pool.

Anyway, encounter one another they did, and so Eve Ant immediately asked if there was a hotel nearby. You see, she was bone-tired (perhaps because her skeleton was on the outside and she’d been walking on it for so long) and just wanted a place to put her feet up for the night. Adam Ant wasn’t tired at all because he’d been rollerblading the whole way (oh, did we fail to mention this earlier?), but he did rather fancy the ampleness of Eve Ant’s abdomen so he thought he’d stick around to keep getting a sweet, sweet eyeful.

So, Adam Ant took Eve Ant by the elbow (like a real gentleman) and escorted her right to the door of a nearby hotel. He even helped lug her luggage (that’s how much he was impressed with her abdomen). And, what’s more, he payed for the most expensive room for one night, and was so classy that he didn’t sleep in the giant, luxury double bed with her. That’s right, Adam Ant slept out on the giant, luxury double couch instead. Naturally, Eve Ant was so impressed by all of this that she found herself wishing she hadn’t torn off her wings and become queen of another colony already.

But, truth be told, Eve Ant had absconded from her duties as breeder and matriarch months ago. There was so much more to life than popping out millions of eggs until she resembled a desiccated ball sack. She wanted to see the world! And perhaps Adam Ant was the one she could share this dream with. Perhaps he wouldn’t even mind so much that she was no longer a virgin (didn’t some men like older, more experienced women anyway?).

As it happened, Adam Ant was desperate to have Eve Ant stick around (so he could goggle at her abdomen some more), so he invited her to sit at the edge of the Möbius strip with him awhile. Eve Ant was giddy with delight, and they romantically dangled their legs, ate from Adam Ant’s grain of sugar, and gazed at the stars. Their compound eyes were full of love hearts for each other an—

Somebody sprinkled dichlorvos on them and they died.

Adam Ant

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ABSURDIS EXTREME // Case Study #1,009,851 [06/09/2087] by B.A. Loney

This is the story of my sincere attempts at following some good advice. I was concerned about spending too much time in front of my PC, but seeing as this was part of my job, I also felt that I had no choice. So, I needed to take care of my posture, maintaining the correct height, and maintaining the correct distance between my eyes and the monitor. As per the occupational health and safety standards, I had to be hypervigilant about angles, space, eyelines, blah blah blah. All of this bullshit was key.

The problem was, I had a spine that had the bendiness of a Slinky. It’s a wonder I managed to successfully navigate stairs without spilling my way down them, ending up in a tragic heap at the bottom! Of course, I had to concentrate, and wearing an unusually stiff jacket usually helped, support wise. Showers were a fucking nightmare, what with having to hold onto the taps for dear life, just in case my stretchy spine decided to suddenly lunge my skull into the bathroom wall. And looking in mirrors? Let’s just say I had to wear a helmet in case.

Don’t think I haven’t tried to find a solution. My best idea was to remove the head cushion from my office chair and slip my spine down the back support shaft. It seemed to work quite well while I was sitting, but my every attempt to stand up, move, or bend only ended with me collapsing all over the floor, the high-pitched squeals of my colleagues being a clue to how freakish and dire my situation actually was. Because, of course, I kept forgetting that firstly I needed to take my spine off the shaft. I’m such a butter brain sometimes!

After the fifth incident, my boss called me into her office and gave me a good dressing down. This whole situation was ridiculous, she said, and I needed to come up with a solution fast if I wished to have a future with the company. Needless to say, my confidence took a huge hit with that ultimatum, and I left work that day with more wobble in my step than I would have liked. I even tipped into a duck pond despite all my efforts not to. I was not in a good way.

When I was sitting near the pond, sad and wet, smeared with muck and duck droppings, I noticed a fat tube man. He looked very happy, his long, thin moustache all twirled and oiled at each end, and a pizza in his hand that looked like a billion dollar feast—it looked that good! I felt a twinge of envy. It could’ve been me in his place. I wasn’t worse than him. No, I was even better! And my back was way more bendy after all.

The next morning, I found myself outside our personnel department with an application in hand. The personnel officer hadn’t even looked at it—such had been his delight at my proposal. I was leaving his office, having secured for myself a newly created role, that of the company tube man. I could stand out the front, flitting and flailing in the breeze as much as I liked, bending this way and that to attract attention to our company and whatever the hell product or service it actually provided. This would be the perfect job for me. I wouldn’t be stuck in front of a PC all day. I’d get plenty of fresh air. And flexible working hours! The perks were many.

But my favourite moment of the day was when my former boss was passing me on the street. She was accompanied by a gaggle of my former work colleagues. It was a golden opportunity for me to formally recognise for myself that I’d come to the end of my time with them. So, I loosened my valve at just the right moment, and let rip with a burst of high pressure gas. It was such a distinctive sound, one that could not be ignored by anybody!

They all stopped, saw me—a mere tube man—then looked at one another. Who had let off that fart? No one was willing to own up to it. And though they were all innocent, I wasn’t about to own up to it either. I watched smugly as they all turned and walked back to their stuffy offices. And here was me staying outside, free and happy—and with extra days off whenever there was rain.

Tube Man

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SPAM® Sushi #24

I used to be able to find good information from your articles.
— Sell My Motorhome Near Me

Hey, Motorhome! We don’t wish to keep disappointing you, so we’ve gone and dug up some very useful information that you can genuinely use…
Australia: 1.21 USD/litre
UK: 2.04 USD/litre
Ukraine: 1.15 USD/litre
USA: 1.08 USD/litre*
*Gas prices current as of April 2022.
— Tati & Tony (Two Lazy Arses Who Wrote This in April & Didn’t Want to Check the Actual Prices of Gas Before Publishing in September)

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SPAM® Sushi #23

Greetings! Very useful advice in this particular article! It is the little changes which will make the biggest changes. Thanks a lot for sharing!
— Fencing Posts Near Me

Cheers! Very useful comment in this particular article! It is the little words which will make the biggest lack of sense. Thanks for… well, nothing?
— Tati & Tony (Two Super Bemused Fencing Post & Pole Dancing Inspectors)

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