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queersquabble containment thread

Started by queersquabble, October 09, 2017, 05:34:43 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

queersquabble

I know everyone here, myself included, is a massive fan of the very famous cult writer queersquabble, so I thought I'd start a thread to contain all of that admiration and excitement that we can't contain instead of clogging up the forum with lots of separate ones that basically say the same thing: I love queersquabble and have always adored his work. Never a dud did he do.

I also know that some of us HAVE contained our adulation for fear of looking like fanboys, but now we don't have to. This is a safe container for us to store all of those feelings. I'll start by posting one of his many seminal short stories I've copy and pasted from his website. You guys get involved as you see fit.



A queer squabble
by queersquabble


What the critics are saying:

"It's here! After years of heroic battles and mad capers readers finally get to hear queersquabble's origin story, and boy, it doesn't disappoint!" - Larry Hype

"Delves deep into the backstory of the iconic, real life character, revealing why he did what he's done and hinting at how he might continue to go about doing similar in future." - Sally 'The Unbiased' Hype

"Shit hot" - Barry L. Hype


The knuckle-headed nettle-hearted yobyag points his middle finger upwards and his other fingers at himself while his thumb leans wonkily on his index pointing leftwards as a defiant gesture against what he sees as a flamboyant threat to his beliefs as a man and the very core of his inside inner essence that needs to be protected from such threats as a man wearing a pink shirt in a train station on the opposite platform who happens to glance at him. "Fucking gays think they can look wherever they want these days like nah fag don't be looking in my direction at my eyes with your eyes I don't wanna get no eye-aids from you bitchfag" he thinks to himself while twitching his peepers all around the station inside a head that jerks and spins in what is quite the display of suspicion and don't anyone fucking come near me I've got fists that I'll use to defend my space and face and precious candyfloss feelings. "That prick has a big neck" thinks the pink-shirted man who has a name and identity other than the colour of his shirt but idk what it is or it is bcos idc. "This storyteller is a cunt!" shouts the fat neck man and then an incredible thing happens: the pink shirt man and the bigfat neck man look at each other, momentarily allied in opinions of my cuntiness. Unfortunately something terrible ruins their union and that's a fastspeeding train barging through their connection, but when it properly really passes they catch each others' gaze again and smile and wink and walk towards each other with absent minds, falling moronicly from their own respective platforms as another oncoming train comes and bloody smashes them both to bits and that's what you get for calling your narrator a cunt or agreeing with someone who calls your narrator a cunt you disposable little bits of nothing but pathetic characterless concoctioning! And now you're both dead aren't you?! And what are you gunna do about that?! Fuck all what can you do, you blitheringidiotheads! I don't give funerals and the reader sure as hell isn't invested in this so for suresure as hell there isn't anyone grieving you're just gone finished forgotten as if you never existed. Byebye then. BYE. BYYYEE-OHWAIT sorry no please come back please I'm nothing without you guys don't be dead oh god why what have I done the only two guys I currently love and I kill them off without telling them how I truly feel I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry please say something pleeeeeeez!


And that was the last story the cunty, faggot narrator ever told; he died of indescribably, unimaginable griefchokes not long after. The human world lost a megaly, colossal influence that day and may never fully recover from the huge suffering caused by the aforementioned loss. But they say life goes in circles like the wheel of a car, or any other spinning circle-shaped thing really, and so I hope that as one writer has fallen another great writer may flourish in the coming years of my life and continue the inky legacy set forth by the formerly alive person we shouldn't just mourn like sniveling giblets, but celebrate with great, gusty courage as, I'm sure, he would've wanted. I was asked by Faggotcunt's family to finish and refine the unfinished manuscript and, as hard as it is, I think I'll wrap it up before I descend into gibberish as he so often did. The End. RIP everyone. One more thing, if you enjoyed this paragraph, or even the other one as I might have meddled with that for all you know, consider purchasing my trail-breaking, ground-blazing first title, 'God IS a fag'. Critics are calling it "so far ahead of its time even people of the future won't get it" and me "in this, the age of the labeling of the age, he sits alone, unlabelable." It should be finished by the time you read this.



Copyright © 2017 queersquabble

BlodwynPig


Blue Jam


spamwangler

This is the ultimate H.S Art post. An Anal Ouroboros ramming its head up its bum for eternity.

queersquabble

Quote from: Blue Jam on October 10, 2017, 11:14:50 AM
Who the fuck is queersquabble?

I don't mean to be a dick or anything mate, but learn to reaf. It's in the first sentence:

Quote from: queersquabble on October 09, 2017, 05:34:43 PMvery famous cult writer queersquabble


You must be the only one here who DOESN'T know who he is lol. Just for you, here's a list of things he is that I found online:


queersquabble is a writer, thinker, wordsmith, sentence constructor, paragraph sculptor, photographer, picture taker, image maker, monotony shaker and multimedia visionary communicator.


It's a bit OTT if you ask me, but it's also pretty accurate so I'd go along with it.

pancreas

Well, I very much liked this but for the excess of the word 'faggot', which I find too close to 'n**ger' both phonaesthetically and in intention. In any case I struggle to believe this queersquabble is not a pre-existing poster of our stable.

Reveal yourself, demon.

BlodwynPig


Shoulders?-Stomach!

What is the optimum use of the word faggot?

pancreas

Quote from: Shoulders?-Stomach! on October 10, 2017, 10:48:48 PM
What is the optimum use of the word faggot?

'Can you sort me out with a couple of faggots, please, butcher?'

queersquabble

Quote from: Shoulders?-Stomach! on October 10, 2017, 10:48:48 PM
What is the optimum use of the word faggot?

Once is ok, twice is too many and three's not enough.

queersquabble

Quote from: pancreas on October 10, 2017, 10:38:45 PMI struggle to believe this queersquabble is not a pre-existing poster of our stable.

Reveal yourself, demon.

How do we know you're not my former alias that I'm using to accuse myself of being a pre-existing member of this forum? How can we trust anything that you (or I?) say? Digest that, pancreas!

I'm honestly baffled by this and can't even begin to imagine the lengths you'd have to go to to do what it is you're suggesting I've done.

qs

Dex Sawash


BlodwynPig


Barry Admin


queersquabble

Quote from: Dex Sawash on October 11, 2017, 02:08:31 PM
Greatest living man, alive or dead?

Please don't derail my thread with nonsense questions. This is a serious place for us to discuss the work of the greatest living writer of all time, not some joke masquerading as one. I'm sure there are plenty of other threads where your humour may be tolerated, even encouraged.

I'm sorry to be so forward but, as you may have guessed, queersquabble is my fave writer and I want this place to be a sacred space of worship for like-minded fans and inquisitive lurkers alike, not some ridiculous, accusatory excuse of a thread. Bear that in mind please guys.

queersquabble

#15
I'm not ashamed to adfess that the last forum I composed (and scored) a thread on I got banned from for being too "possessive" and "preachy" and for "dragging the vibe into a quagmire of hate," which is bullshit if you ask me! The internet these days is as restricted as a jar of honey you can't get the lid off of. You can't even fling insults w/o someone having a go, apropos of nothing.

I try to talk passionately about what I'm passionate about and apparently the fucking zombie-sheep-police find that offensive. Bleh! It's often the ones who sing the lonely song who speak the truth! They ought to have learnt that by now. But they never do learn. And maybe they never will...

Hmm   :/   ?

pancreas

Look---why don't you calm down? We're accepting people here. The most accepting. You name it, we'll accept it. Go out of our way to accept it, in fact. We take pills to make us as accepting as possible, to be as loose and accepting as possible. To be downright floppy and accepting. Almost devoid of elasticity and resistance, us. That's how we like it. Shove it all in. That's basically our catchphrase. Like a gaping landfill site waiting for all your shit to be poured into us. You can't ask fairer than that. We're your natural audience and we're gagging for it. So get on with it.

queersquabble

Thanks for your blessing, pancreas. It's good to know someone gets me. If this thread gets a million views I'll give all my limbs to charity.


I'm gunna post another clump* of words. Even tho it's not that great if I'm honest, it is legible. Part of the so-called 'Look at what you did to me' trilogy. Seems to lack the youthful energy of his earlier work even tho it was written only a day later, if I recall correctly. Overall, it swells his oeuvre visibly.



Lazy eye
by queersquabble


1


A Pakistani couple from Pakistan came to England and birthed a British-Pakistani who became a schoolkid at school and a kid when not at school and a "p**i" to the white kids at school who were learning from their parents that brown skin on a person was undesirable and anyone who happened to have it on wear or model it as their choice of colour should be treated with suspicion and hate because how else would they treat someone who looked different to them and the kid felt alienated and sad and grew up to be a workman at work and a man when not at work and a "terrorist" to the white men at work (but only when he wasn't around to hear) who were learning from their newspapers that a man with brown skin and a beard also not a beard probably also a moustache idk about goatees was a threat who would likely possibly maybe blow and explode them up even though this particular man himself had never been anything but affable with them lot, but you just never know do you? Some people pretend to be nice to your face, but then when your back is turned their expression gets all twisted up and mangled, expressing something different to what they expressed to you.


2


"I fucking hate you and your face and your wonky lips and your lazy eye which is actually an improvement on your good eye because at least it doesn't bother to look into mine and make me even sicker than I already am by the sight of you let alone when you start talking in your breathy squeak of a voice which if it was tangible I'd strangle the moment it came from the hallway of your throat and out the front fucking porch!" she yells directly into his good eye then quickly flips around storms off smiles at her friend watching across the room and whispers "God I just LOVE him he's adorable isn't he I just want to snuggle his face and smother him with lips!"

"I KNOW right, he's so hot like, fire, or the sun, or something hotter even" her friend rebabbles and they giggle like the sound you might hear from a school playground with some girls in who are laughing.


The man had already welled up and walked away before the latter confrontation and left the office feeling some feelings that were not good feelings, but at least he felt something, which was better than feeling nothing, even if what he felt wasn't good. The next day he didn't go to work, nor the day after that, nor the day after after, but the one after that last one he went in super duper early and carefully placed his lazy eye which he'd tweezered out sloppily the night before on the yelling woman's desk so that it was 'looking' at her chair, or more specifically the place her face would be when she sat down to work, and left next to it a note that said, "Look at what did to me, Susan :("


When Miss Susan Sue Susanson gets into the office some time after she freaks the fuck out but inwardly not outwardly as she's alone in the room and never talks to herself aloud because she's not mad or anything. "OMG that is SOOO romantic what an absolute sweetheart hope that's his lazy eye not the good one cos even though I was only joking about not liking it I actually was being serious so yes even though this is like really hella omg it's still a no from me if he picked the wrong side cos I just can't deal with that sort of man in my life right now I'm sorry but wow he must really like me why has he played it cool for so long OMG I can't WAIT for everyone to see this it'll completely disable them mentally" she blurts in her head while rolling the eyeball from side to side quite detached from the action of her hands.

"Who the fuck gave you that?" one of the other men of the office asks as he walks in.

"That's for me to know and you to ask and me to deflect" she says and snap-thinks "God I'm fucking good with words" while smiling to herself.

"I bet it was cod-eye wasn't it? What a pussyfaggot he is eh?!" he phrases them like questions, but really they're an unasked for answers he wants to be told are correct.

She ignores him grabs her phone and sends "Guess what?!?!?" to multiple people.






*I do not own the copyright and am willing to take it down if I get a complaint from the publisher.

pancreas

It's kind of like Hilary Mantel meets Martin Amis meets the Daily Mail's comments section.

queersquabble

Quote from: pancreas on October 13, 2017, 03:56:17 PM
It's kind of like Hilary Mantel meets Martin Amis meets the Daily Mail's comments section.

Sums it up perfectly.

queersquabble

Posting this merely so we can all point and laugh. Disappointing end to a mediocre set of stories. Final part of the so-called 'What if Jeremy Paxman collaborated with Jeremy Kyle?' trilolology. Proves to me that the writer I formerly admired has sold-out big time. I'm done with him. I'm done with this thread. Mods please change the title to 'queersquabble is shit end of'. It's bloody typical every hero I worship descends into drabanality. Is it really that hard to maintain the standard set in an earlier piece? Or do they just stop trying? If only someone like me was given a chance I'd show them how it's done no fucking problem. Fin.



Ditch weed
by queersquabble


"Five-twenny? It's like four-twenny, but one better. Yeah four-twenny's old news mate ya wanna get involved in the ol' five-twenny, yul never look back. It'll excavate the space in yer brain four-twenny cart ge'ta. It'll expand ya t'brink, to beyon'brink..." and as he saw puzzlement in the other guy's eyes he added "it'll take you beyond the brink of expansion above unfavmable depfs that'll get wider than an angle ya cart even imagine."

"Wicked, can I get some?" the younger looking man asked, half humouring and half hoping the older looking man had something.

"Unfortunately I'm afraid sadly I don't sell weed, or any drugs a'all in fact because it's illegal to do so and am always careful to be very legal in m'ways. No what I'm selling is an idea. A---"

The younger geezer interrupted, "so you just mean weed? So the same as 420 then?"

"Nah dote be daft I gave it a new name, a new spin. The yoof'll love it. Even the wrinkled yoofs. Yoof of all ages will---"

The younger geezer interrupted, "you know 420's just a number right? It's not actually related to a type of weed.. so saying 520 and smoking the same stuff isn't gunna do anything different."

The older geezer frowned. "Maybe YOU just don't believe. Narrow minded - that's what you four n' twenny eds are. Too scared to peek outside yer little baffroom windows. Am sayin yuv got opaque vision mate, in case ya dint get that. And yer minds all steamed up. No wonder ya cart seat troof. Wipe the soap off yer eyes, tarl yersen darn n' come artside t'play."

"Have you even smoked before man?"

"I DON'T need drugs to smoke weed, not like you foreigntwennyeds! Smoking is a state a'mind. I embody it ah secrete it am ONE wiv it! People feel different after an encounter wi'me. Ma inner innerness alters the conchness even if the dote reelize."

"You're right, this HAS been a mood-changing encunter. I'm gone now."

"Take it peacey pal. And rember, five honeyed n' twenny..." and as the geez whizzed off he shouted "tell yer friends! Ya heard it ear first!! An I own the copyright ya little ditchweed!!!"

Geez peddles back home, walks inside and unties his laces

pancreas

I have to agree. That's a steaming pile of shit.