Thomm Quackenbush, author

Bromance: A Democratic Response
What, no one told you this was a rusty pipe fight? Don't you know you never bring an umbrella to a rusty pipe fight? We will begin when you enter the darkened alley. Hey where the hell do you think you're going? Get back here!

It all comes down to one sentence. Ten years and suddenly Stevehen is relegated to a footnote. I woke up Horatio and went to sleep as Rosencrantz. This hurts so much. Still the pie has yet to be filled with artificial apple seasoning, there's still time. I fear this might sound like a cry of desperation, you may see me as a Mr. Scrooge attempting too hard to wash away the years of molesting the handicapped child of my underling. That is not the case; I just want to make sure you pick the right person to share your magical day with.

I've never met Daniel. Thomm has hidden him well. Therefore I have no actual facts to base these assumptions on. Granted, this has never hindered me in the past. I'm hoping he has a sense of humor. If not, I fear I will have to use my flight response, running about fourteen yards before instinctively lighting a cigarette and sitting down. He'll want to commence the beating at this point. Not putting any ideas in his head, that's just how I would go about things.

We all have a choice. You chose Daniel to be your best man. That choice sucks. Being a friend is all about stopping people from making crappy decisions or silently watching as they spin into numerous humorous predicaments.
Dude, I call dibs on Blue Beetle!

Man, Thomm, you fell down a hole. That sucks. Here's some venous snakes, tie them together and climb to freedom. Please enjoy the musical stylings of The Mumblers while I sit here and point. Yeah, you're going to want to avoid them biting you. Crap, man, you don't look okay. Laying there is not a good idea, buddy. I'm going to run away now.

If you want to know the emotion of a snowflake as it flutters down from the tip of Thor's hammer to grant a wish upon a child's brow, then Daniel is your fucking man. I'm a realist. I'm filled with facts, so many facts that sometimes they explode from me at horrible times. Miley Cyrus wrote the song "7 Things" to cope with her lesbian relationship. See, that's almost a fact. I just blew your mind. Take a moment to collect your brain matter and we'll continue.

I fear Daniel might be a time traveler. He'll one day get bored of this period and jump into his golden sphere, shooting forward to mock our offspring. I have no such time machine, no ability to pervert time; I'm here to stay, Thomm. I'm Mr. Reliability.

You're secrets are not safe with this man. Look at him; he's a freaking squealer if I ever saw one. The Batman is going to find him and then your life is completely screwed. There's Japanese head stuck in television and then there's Daniel. Perhaps they will get together and have little severed Japanese head squealing babies. It all ends with all your dirty laundry fluttering about on the Internet. You don't need to worry about this with me, though, your dark secrets are safe and buried quietly under the third tree stump on Route 9 next to the Dairy Queen.
Hell yeah, tiger fight! Don't work, Thomm, I'm coming to help. Oh wait, that's right, Daniel is going to help you out of this one. It's a shame he met the tigers three minutes before. They hunger for blood!
How messed up would it be if someone discovered a body there? Just saying, you never know until you look, but there's no reason to look. See, that's what keeping secrets is all about.

Did I ever tell you how Melanie and you just fit together? You're like two pieces to some weird fucking puzzle. You know that type, we're talking about the really tough ones. Well, I suppose the elephant could be balancing on the ball, holy crap, it fits. This suddenly doesn't make any sense; the man who created this puzzle is obviously in need of some counseling. At this point, I throw the puzzle to the ground, throw a bit of a fit before vomiting my breakfast of Cheerios and banana. You'll be there to wipe it away though, Thomm, you're a good friend.

In the end, if this choice makes you happy, and I think it does, I'll slip away into the shadows. This is your day, well, it happens to be Melanie's day too, but mostly it's all about you. In fairness, I'll be way too hammered to be of any use to you. Just saying, Stevehen loves his Sam Adams. Now, if you need an awkward moment, hell I am all about that. At some point you'll be slowly dancing with Melanie, holding her close whispering everything she needs to hear and Stevehen will be robot dancing and projecting vomit into the punch bowl. Suzie will shrug her shoulders and stare off into the distance, wondering how she got herself involved with Mr. Vomit the Robot and Daniel will tackle me into the ground and beat me within an inch of my life. It's going to be a good day.

You're Musical Moment Provided By P!nk:
At the door we don't wait cause we know them. At the bar six shots just beginning. That's when dick head put his hands on me. But you see. I'm not here for your entertainment. You don't really want to mess with me tonight. Just stop and take a second. I was fine before you walked into my life.

Stevehen J. Warren is a trained professional in dealing with the crap society churns out. If possible, do not attempt to engage any crap you may find. He mocks it so you don't have to.

If you have a movie, picture, website, friend, game, book, fan fiction, or toilet you would like me to see, or crap all over, please inform your friendly webmaster and include your name and the name of the crappee. The numbers are open and we have trained professionals waiting to receive your call.

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Works by Thomm Quackenbush


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