Tag Archives: Therapy

SPAM® Sushi #18

Caucasians at birth all the time have a grayish-blue iris as the pigmented layer solely develops progressively during the first year of life. Common examples embody spicy meals, legumes (peas, beans), and brassica vegetables (cabbages, cauliflower, broccoli).
— Innostianjam

So, are you saying that when I’m sitting down at Nando’s that I can expect to have my Super Spicy Chanakhi Surprise looking back up at me with betrayed, innocent, blue eyes as I’m trying to cut into it with a knife and fork? Now there’s a horrifying thought!
— Tati & Tony (Survival Horror Experts of Culinary Renown & Goggle-eyed Ethnogenesis)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

SPAM® Sushi #16

This relationship is a therapeutic one, quite than a 236 purely musical one, though the end product might be heard as artform. The compression occasion should grab half of the run and should be unruffled, not jerky.
— Gunockkeync

When Tony needs some therapy, he slams on some heavy metal and fills his gob with jerky. When Tati needs some therapy, she squeezes Tony’s jerky until he squeals. His squeal is quite musical, and can be thought of as a bold new artform. And then they sneeze 236 times.
— Tati & Tony (Two Unruffled Partakers of Absolute Poppycock)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

GUEST POST // Category F by Alexandra Omelchenko

This morning, I thought:
“I’ll get a tattoo, three symbols F32.”

On my neck or wrist,
anywhere above a pulse.
To remember that life beats
even under F32. It’s there,
even when you’d  rather
make it stop.

Even when smiles break crooked,
when laughter freezes into sarcasm,
when all the razor edges
cannot set free the lost and useless
soundless screams.

I’m done. I promise.
I’ve put the razors down.
I’ll find a tattoo parlor
for one last game of sharpness.

They ask why would I want
to carry on my skin a code and summary
of things best left on wards or in therapist’s chairs?
(Quiet! The first rule of the category F club
is not to mention the category F club.)
The strange part is, I’m not ashamed.

Do I even need a reason beyond “I want to”?
I still am F-ed up in the head, remember?
Besides, a reminder that I promised myself
to live, to give up the flight and the fight
may actually be of use.

It’s decided: I pick the wrist.
To get through moments like this:
breath in, breath out, make fists,
open palms, touch air. Look at your wrist,
breath in, breath out, go on.

by ALEXANDRA OMELCHENKO
© All rights reserved 2015