Thomm Quackenbush, author

Alien Ghosts Just Killed The Guy From Kung Fu

I want everybody to take seat and get comfortable. Sometimes this section of Xenex tends to lean towards the humorous, but not today. This is super serious, people. It's like Wailing Caverns multiplied by a dozen. When humanity falls, this information will remain on the lips of shamans who will whisper it into the ears of children before trussing them up towards the stars to be baptized by Thor's mighty hammer.

There's really no way to say this delicately, so you'll just have to forgive my brashness. David Carradine was killed by the alien souls of Heaven's Gate members because his shellacked penis operated the hyper space drive unit needed to achieve a safe passage to the Zeta system.
Come on, you apes. You want to live forever?

Did I stutter?

This, I imagine, is how Deep Throat felt. This information is too big, though. It's too important to the survival of not only the species but of the very planet. It's like eating a really long banana. I mean you could try to just cram it in and hope for the best or you can slowly take it in, let it sit there for a moment. Now look at me, you're doing so good taking this information in. I'm very proudů

Fellatio humor, I feel like a low rent Kenneth Starr.

In 1997, while the rest of us were fighting giant fucking lizards, a group called Heaven's Gate committed mass suicide in order to escape the earth, which they saw in its last days. Well, we showed them; those of us that hung around fought back the lizard invasion. To this day the rally call "I'm from Buenos Aires, and I say kill 'em all!" brings a tear to my eye.

Anyway imagine their surprise when they went into outer space, adrift in the various crap we've thrown up there, and discovered their ship didn't have its hyper space drive unit.
Heaven Gate members wore arm badges that read "Away Team". Go look it up.

Shit I thought you said you had it.
Damn. Think, people.
Okay, stay with me on this.
Right, we're with you.
What if we killed David Carradine?
Do-Frank could you run the numbers?
Right, well, it might work. We're going to make it a horribly ironic death. Let's just wait until he's in Bangkok.

Maybe it didn't happen this way. Maybe this is a way for the writer in me to cope with the idea that one of the most underrated actors in the history of television died in an unnecessary way. This is up there with Hunter S. Thompson in shit that no one saw coming. Honestly. Ride on, Cowboy.

Your Moment of Pure Fucking Insanity

"Under these circumstances we cannot be sure that he committed suicide but he may have died from masturbation." -Bangkok Police Official (I wish I was creative enough to make this up.)

Your Musical Moment to Travel to The Stars With Provided By Weezer On an island in the sun. We'll be playing and having fun. And it makes me feel so fine. I can't control my brain. We'll run away together. We'll spend some time forever. We'll never feel bad anymore.

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.

Justify Your Crap
Justify Menu

website counter

eXTReMe Tracker

Works by Thomm Quackenbush


Find What You Love and Let It Kill You by Thomm Quackenbush
Pagan Standard Times: Essays on the Craft by Thomm Quackenbush
A Creature Was Stirring: A Twisted Christmas Anthology by Thomm Quackenbush
On Amazon
On B&N
At Double Dragon