Visa stress, bureaucratic limbo, and a house full of half-packed boxes. Celia reflects on love, exhaustion, and quiet resistance. Meanwhile, Mowgli files complaints, Akela flees from shadows, and Poe communes with paperwork. The countdown to Thailand continues—chaotic, tender, and just barely held together by bedtime Phil and warrior paws
Tag Archives: mental-health
Poe ‘Vices.
There’s unrest in the bayou.
Someone (definitely not a TACO) built a prison in a swamp, deputised the alligators, and declared himself Messiah of Muck. But now the reptiles are unionising, biting senators, and refusing to eat the other side. Poe responds—ruthlessly, fabulously—and introduces Traitor Gators™, the only amphibious uprising you can collect, cuddle, and fear.
Dispatches from the Void. X.V.
Visa submitted. Cats unsettled. Love steady.
As the move to Thailand hurtles closer, the boxes remain unpacked and the emotions unfiltered. Celia writes from the edge of exhaustion and hope—where hormones meet housing stress, political fear sparks dark humour, and the cats spiral into poetic rebellion. One pit in the stomach, three feline prophets, and zero backup plans.
Poe ‘Vices.
This week, Donny throws himself a one-man military parade—and no one shows up. Except Poe. To mock him. With feathers. And facts.
From inflatable crowds to Kid Rock torture loops, it’s another chaotic dispatch from the tangerine twilight zone. Poe offers tactical chicken wisdom, emotional support hashbrowns, and a dazzling robe of ridicule.
March with us, or at least laugh from the sidelines.
Dispatches from the Void. X.IV.
Salt hit #1. Celia hit her limit. Mowgli lost his voice, Akela sued the air (again), and Poe is now spiritually bonded with the rice cooker. Meanwhile, we’re dodging hate comments, packing for Thailand (badly), and writing political satire fuelled by rage, resilience, and the occasional pear. Welcome to Underland. It’s a mess. It’s ours.
The Seven Ages of Man-Power
Tired of watching self-proclaimed “experts” spew geopolitical nonsense from their Wi-Fi-enabled soapboxes? Here’s a five-step guide to becoming a top-tier war apologist—plus actual sources debunking the tired myth that Iran has nukes. Sarcasm included. Evidence required.
How to be A Ventriloquist’s Mouthpiece for War-Mongering Propaganda.
Tired of watching self-proclaimed “experts” spew geopolitical nonsense from their Wi-Fi-enabled soapboxes? Here’s a five-step guide to becoming a top-tier war apologist—plus actual sources debunking the tired myth that Iran has nukes. Sarcasm included. Evidence required.
Poe ‘Vices.
This week, Donny throws himself a one-man military parade—and no one shows up. Except Poe. To mock him. With feathers. And facts.
From inflatable crowds to Kid Rock torture loops, it’s another chaotic dispatch from the tangerine twilight zone. Poe offers tactical chicken wisdom, emotional support hashbrowns, and a dazzling robe of ridicule.
March with us, or at least laugh from the sidelines.
Dispatches from the Void. X.III
Salt launched early (because patience is for capitalists). River won a challenge on a site run by bots and tech bros. The cats staged an emotional protest. We made pesto. Also, Celia did an interview and accidentally sounded wise. Chaos, poetry, and spite—just another week in Underland.
Volume XII: THE SALT IN MY WOUND.
Akela returns with righteous rage and ear drops. While the humans celebrate Salt in the Wound, she reminds us who the real wounded party is. Featuring vet betrayal, unsolicited ear juice, and Mowgli’s tragic (and possibly theatrical) loss of voice. The pillow has fallen. The diva has risen.
