TQR TALKBACK: post your gripes, questions and comments here...

Fuck Washington DC. The seat of all evil. Swamp? How about the 9th circle of hell! With the help of their lapdogs in the press, they have managed to hornswaggle and hog tie the people. Regardless of party, the DC of the last 100 years is nothing but a satanic club for psychopathic growth.

BLIND RELEASE: DISCUSSION

In regards to this quarter's capital gain, BLIND RELEASE ... does Armand Kingsley pull the trigger at the end? What leads you to think so or think not?

J'aime les Enfants

Bless the bestas and the chiron

As they laissez faire twixt the banks of Styx

Fallen for the lines reverberating in this electronic echo chamber

We blot the daze with ink corresponding to zeros and ones

Until the electro magnetic pulse rocks our world back to the stones

Forever revolutions rise on the middlemen who fall before success

Self possessed in the knowledge their failure could change history

Ferried across by the children who will triumph in their stead

Pleading for them to treat kindly the lapping voices in their head

R OUI PAS DES L'HOMMES? SPEAK FROM DAY HEART OR DIE

ROCKEFELLER: Two comma faults, missing hyphens and a tense shift in the first few paras...

waiting for a dumbass, pseudo-medical, drone

a dingy, curtained, bay

The hoarse, cracking, voice

“You gap kneed, crusty clitted, trailer twat.”

etc. etc.

We split a case Natural Light

At first no one even notice me.

TED RORSCHALK: But does it speak you, you fucking grammer nazi? You must be ... you wanna be ... you are! ... hitler!

OBLIVION AND BEYOND CONSIGNED TO OBLIVION

Dear Ms July:

Thank you for your recent submission, Oblivion and Beyond, for consideration by our poorly attired albeit mindbold TQR staff.

We have read and considered it in consultation with the Monkey who simply shook his head. Oblivion and Beyond is therefore deemed a mismatch for TQR.

Thank you for your interest in our publication. We wish you well in finding a home for your CV elsewhere on the planet.

Sincerely,

G. DePlancher / The Floor - TQR

Sent while levitating from my own Bright Cloud.

Hullo Don.

S'something wrong with your prose. Like mabe you've precurssored some sort of zombie wonderland? Not sure. But I don't like it. And I don't like it to a point that I must say it is disturbing. I mean, your capital is so seems seeped in devil-stuff. Not sure i'll be able to sleep for weeks. Shit.

Okay. Just kidding.However, the capital you sent will be shoved into the Porthole, sister. But only because there is something seriously wrong with you.

Keep your salad greens crisp,

Doomey / the Floor / www.tqrstories.com

Bonjour, Monsieur Steinhagen:

Many thanks for your recent submission, the shining Venture Capital, A Month of National Holidays, for our consideration here at TQR.

Check check check. I am pleased to commend you...or perhaps it will feel more like condemn you?... sincerely, I hope for you it will be the former...on this work that pleased me as a reader and completely subjective scrutinizer of such things. More importantly for our purposes, dear VC, the Great Monkey squealed aloud as I read your work to him via Skype.

What does it all mean? Ask a philosopher who is better equipped to advise you on matters so encompassing as to be described as 'all'. For our purposes, I am but the humble deliverer of your sentence. I mean, privilege...specifically, that we have decided to advance A Month of National Holidays for further sniffing and examination at the hands (or claws, as some feel more aptly describes them) of my smart, literate, judgemental colleagues of The Terminal.

You know what that means, j'espere? It means your work rises up the chute. It means more waiting. It means...let's see what happens next.

It's all I can do for you, besides thank you for your ingenuity, fine presentation, and a decent read.

Merci et bonne chance,

G. DePlancher Currently lost in Inkville / but normally uncomfortably appointed on The Floor - TQR

Sent while levitating from my own Bright Cloud.

Grondo's Great Success! In the valley of the pickle Eaters

Bonjour, Monsieur Grondo:

First, I read the title. You know I am the blues with shoes, but must remain open-minded and unbiased throughout. Bien sur... Merci beaucoup, VC of dark mind, for your recent submission for our consideration here at TQR, and for the title of said recent submission. All things matter. All things matter.

So phat. So twisted. Trickfully teetering teasingly on the thin line of mundane and then...parsing into the unexpected, yeah yeah surprise. For twenty three seconds, I thought you were on the road of another formula detective thriller. Thankfully, non.

The Monkey is howling still, Monsieur. Let's see what the pickle eaters in the Terminal think of your ink. Dead Memphis Blues rises from the dank Floor and into their waiting claws this date.

Bonne chance,

G. DePlancher / Slush Shuffler of The Floor - TQR

Sent while levitating from my own Bright Cloud.

NOISISM shoulda woulda coulda on the Floor

Hello Kevin,

I examined the capital you sent, and I gotta tell you I wanted to love it. I think it's a good time-stamp for thoughts about what we believe in. But I think this could have been taken much further. The "good" video needs to go beyond what we deem great, and the bad could have gone oh so much more sour, believe me. Tis a good idea, and some other magazine might latch onto it. good luck out there in the metaverse.

Boligard Doomey

the Floor

www.tqrstories.com

FOUR FRIENDS ENDS @THE FLOOR

Bonjour, Monsieur Ferrini:

Merci beaucoup for your recent submission for consideration by the increasingly decrepit albeit proud ezine TQR. I wonder sometimes how it is you VCs find us.

Four Friends is not for TQR, friend. Sometimes it's just a misalignment of...many aspects.

For what it's worth (and that may be nothing at all), I suggest you read the conversation between these four friends aloud. See, I did that, and I just can't hear people voices...not ones I, as a reader, might care about or take an interest in anyway. These are not fully developed people, but caricatures, the circumstances of their meeting and the ensuing exchange never extends its pitch high enough to ring the bell of authenticity. I dunno. Talk to some more women, preferably some with depth and desire beyond snagging a handsome, muscly temporary boyfriend with a good wardrobe. Real people want more.

Ach, what do I know? Maybe try another house. The Monkey here says non.

Regards,

G. DePlancher / Floor Mopper, TQR

Sent while levitating from my own Bright Cloud.