Random Thoughts 4

41)  For years I have wanted to check out The Human Centipede just based on the curiosity factor, but I feel doing so will warp and twist my soul.  Has anyone watched it and survived?

42)  Sometimes when I turn on the news and hear stories about people in third world countries fighting over extremist beliefs that belong in the dark ages, I just want to be all like, “Hey, third word people, you know we have magic pieces of glass over here that show you all the movies and games you want, right?”  Because, you know, you should all stop fighting and then we can sell you magic pieces of glass and then everyone will be happy and play Candy Crush.  No one wants to go to war if they have Candy Crush.

43)  I feel bad for pirates.  So much effort to swipe all that gold only to inevitably bury it.

44)  I have decided to run for the position of Official Comptroller for the Republic of Barbados.  I have nothing wittier to say on the subject.

45)  Why does Hollywood put crappy movies out in January and February?  Why can they just, alternatively, not make crappy movies?

46)  Is the Burger King a wise and just leader, or a cruel tyrant who presides over the burgers with an iron fist?

47)  12.  Scientists have definitely proven that a man must walk down 12 roads before he can call himself a man.  “The answer was just blowing in the wind, my friends,”  remarked one scientist.

48)  I don’t understand why people sky dive.

49)  Knock Knock.  Who’s there?  Life.  Answer it.

50)  Does Kenny G like listening to his own music in the elevator?

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Alien Jones Taking Your Questions

BEHOLD!  The mighty brainy one, taking your questions and plugging your work!

BEHOLD! The Mighty Brainy One, taking your questions and plugging your work!

Alien Jones!  He knows all and is taking your questions!  Inside his genius alien brain lies the secrets of the cosmos, the mysteries of the universe, and the answer to all multiple choice questions (it’s B).

Moreover, bribery is not beneath him!  Ask him a question and he might plug your book, blog, or other project in his answer.

Notice how I said “might.”  In other words, if your book is called, “I Heart Nazis!” or some other such nonsense, then no, he won’t plug it.  He has standards.  Otherwise, he’ll do his best to send the Bookshelf Battle’s 3.5 readers your way.

How did aliens master space flight?  Who are the most powerful aliens? Which restaurant makes the best chocolate chip pancakes?  Why was the Dexter series finale so godawful?

Your questions can be serious and thoughtful or funny and snarky.  In fact, he prefers the latter.

By the way, He of the Amazing Gray Matter, posed the following question to me today:

ALIEN JONES:  Bookshelf Q. Battler, does it occur to you that maybe people are leery to have their works promoted on a blog operated by an anonymous blogger with a penchant for sarcasm?

BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER: It does.  That’s why we have a guarantee.  If you don’t like Alien Jones’ plug for your work, he’ll pull it.  No questions asked.  No hard feelings.  Nothing to lose.  3.5 readers (eh, maybe a bit more even) to gain.  Just sent a private message to Bookshelf Battle on Twitter asking for Alien Jones to take your plug down.

Doesn’t get any more awesome than that, folks!  Submit your questions by midnight Friday to get your question in Sunday’s column.

Alien graphic courtesy of Marauder on openclipart.org

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True or False

If you continue to write a novel, it will one day be written.  While your novel is half-written, ideas for new novels may poke into your head.  You will tell yourself that these ideas are easier to write, and thus you should abandon your first half-written novel to work on your new idea.  However, you just realize that what you thought was easy turns out to be hard, for there are few good novels without finely crafted twists and turns that required a lot of mental preparation on the part of the author.


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In Defense of Shatner

Today, the Prime Minister of Israel gave a historic speech before Congress.  Also, a vocal critic of the Russian president was shot to death recently near the Kremlin.

But if you’re a nerd like me, the big issue on your mind is:


Shatner, who played Capt. Kirk on Star Trek opposite Nimoy’s Mr. Spock, stated he was unable to attend the funeral of his longtime co-star as he had already committed to a Red Cross fundraiser in Florida.  Over the weekend, he was bombarded on Twitter by critics claiming he should have dropped everything to make it to the service of the man who portrayed his highly logical science officer.

Was Shatner wrong for not going?images-2

No.  In no particular reason, here are some reasons why:

  • Shatner is 83 years old -  I don’t claim to know what’s on his mind.  I’m not a mindreader.  All I know is the older I get, the more accepting I become of the fact that death is an inevitable part of life.  Every funeral I attend, the less debilitated I am when I lose someone dear to me.  Loss of a loved one never becomes less painful, but one eventually grows steeled to the fact that death happens.  Therefore, I know that by the time I (hopefully) reach eight decades of life, I’ll be able to soldier on while still feeling bad about the loss of a dear friend.  In other words, for a person who has lived a long life, it is possible to keep a stiff upper lip and attend a planned fundraiser while still feeling bad about the loss of a friend at the same time.
  • Logistics – Again, Shatner is 83 years old.  To drop everything, charter an expensive jet at the last minute, fly all the way back to California and then attend a funeral?  That’s going to take a lot out of a young person, let alone an old timer.  (Capt. Kirk I apologize for calling you old but what the heck, it’s a defense).
  • Commitment – Shatner had committed to a fundraiser.  Would the people involved with the event have understood had he left?  I don’t know.  I assume so, but I can’t speak for them.   Obviously, the Red Cross is a cause that’s important to Shatner and he didn’t want to leave people who worked hard on a special event holding the bag.  That’s admirable.
  • Friendship – Shatner and Nimoy worked together since the 1960’s.  I have no idea what their friendship was like behind the scenes, but I have to imagine there was enough respect there to get them through a TV series and several films.  Again, I’m not a mindreader.  Neither are the critics.  Bottomline – I’m sure Shatner loved and cared about his colleague very much.  No one has the right to tell him he doesn’t.

Finally, what would a Vulcan say about all this?

ME:  Hello Mr. Vulcan.  Should William Shatner drop a charity event he committed to, spend a ton of money on a last minute private jet charter to fly across the country only to attend a funeral that in the end, probably won’t make him feel any better about losing his friend anyway?

VULCAN:  No.  That would be highly illogical.  Stay at the charity event.  The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

There you go nerds.  Let’s give our Captain a break.

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Additional Scenarios – Will They Stop the One Day a Post Challenge?

As my 3.5 regular followers know, I’m doing a one post a day challenge.

The other day, I discussed some scenarios and explained how they will not prevent me from following through on my commitment to post once a day.

In case you missed it.

I’ve considered some further scenarios:

QUESTION – The zombie apocalypse breaks out.  A walker is sitting in your office chair, using your computer, surfing the net and playing Candy Crush.  Surely you will concede that it would not be worth it to risk your life in order to make a post?

ANSWER – I concede nothing.  I will grab one of the action figures on my bookshelf, jam it into the zombie’s brain, and will not only clear a path to my computer, but also vindicate myself for being a grown man who collects action figures.  Two birds with one stone.

QUESTION:  You are put into a straight jacket, tied up with ropes and chains, dangled upside down by your feet in an iron safe, and tossed off a helicopter into the ocean.

ANSWER:  You’re talking about a typical Tuesday for me, son.  First, I dislocate my shoulder ala Martin Riggs in Lethal Weapon.  I too have a shoulder injury from Vietnam.  Sidenote:  Do not go to Vietnamese Disneyworld, they have zero ride safety.  At least I think it was Vietnamese Disneyworld.  Maybe it was just a guy in a mouse suit with a couple of lousy rides.

Anyway.  The shoulder trick allows me to slide out of the strait jacket.  I then either pick the locks attached to the ropes and chains, or I just flex my muscles and bust them all off.  I’m pretty sure I’ll go with the latter.

Finally, I roundhouse kick the safe door open, swim to the surface, then fist fight a shark until I force him into a state of submission, from which point I ride him like an aquatic horse back to the mainland, where I find an Internet cafe and post.

QUESTION:  Terrible snow storm.  Power is knocked out.  We’re talking fifty feet of snow.

ANSWER:  I keep a set of skis at the ready for just this situation.  Like a prairie dog or other burrowing rodent, I will dig my way to the surface, dragging the skis behind me as they will be tied to my belt.  I will then ski hundreds of miles if necessary until I find a computerized device that will allow me to post.

QUESTION:  You are hit by a bus and put into a full body cast.  Every inch of your body is completely and hopelessly immobilized.

ANSWER:  I’ve already discussed this situation with area hospitals.  I will hold a pencil in my mouth, and a nurse will move an iPad around, poking the letters I desire up against the pencil.  Those posts will be poorly edited and grossly misspelled, but they will still count.

QUESTION:  A gypsy curses you.  The curse?  If you post, you will drop dead.  Therefore, by posting, you in effect, will ruin the rest of your challenge, because you’ll be dead, and ergo, won’t be able to post for the rest of the year.

ANSWER:  Damn, you’re good.  First, I’ve scribbled a year’s worth of posts down.  I wrote them with lemon juice so they aren’t visible unless run under a black light.  I have left instructions to my team of attorneys to hire an intern who will continue to post on my behalf for the rest of the year.

Alternatively, I will apologize to the gypsy for whatever slight I made in her direction, for gypsies usually don’t curse people for shits and giggles.  My charm and wit will surely get me off the hook, leaving me fit as a fiddle and able to post for the rest of the year.

QUESTION:  You have failed to post…

ANSWER:  Impossible!

QUESTION:  Just concede for purposes of this hypothetical that you failed to post.

ANSWER:  I concede nothing.

QUESTION:  It is a given that you did not post on a day.  That’s it.  You’re done.  There’s no way to undo that.

ANSWER:  I’ve already thought of it.  First, I will have my body cryogenically preserved, leaving strict instructions that I am only to be thawed out on the day time  travel is invented.  I will then use said time traveling invention to return to the day in question and enter a post.

QUESTION:  Even if doing so changes the very fabric of space and time?  Suppose, for example, it was predestined that you would not post.  Maybe you post something that infuriates one of your 3.5 readers to the point that they become a mad scientist and turn us all into a race of hybrid mutant half-people, half horses.

ANSWER:  Then we spend all eternity as centaurs, man!  I MADE A PROMISE TO MY 3.5 READERS!

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One Year of Bookshelf Battle

It’s been a whole year.  As the old saying goes, “time flies when you’re having fun.”

As my 3.5 readers are aware from reading about my first attempt at a novel, I was bitten by the writing bug at a young age.  That bite resurfaced big time in college, when I wrote a humor column for my school newspaper.

I remember walking through a dorm one day and seeing a column I wrote cut out of the paper and posted on a random student’s door.  Wow.  A person liked my writing enough to hang it up.  I was hooked.  I was going to be a superstar.  My major book deal (in my mind) was coming any day now.  I figured I’d better get my Academy Award for Best Screenplay speech written.

Then life, as it does, moved on.  Realities settled in.  I was just a kid from Podunk, Nowhere.  The idea that I’d get scooped up by some big agent seemed about as likely as me getting abducted by aliens (which my correspondent tells me they don’t officially do anymore).

Bills needed to be paid.  Life needed to be lived, and it didn’t wait for me to write a novel.  It kept happening all around me.

I can’t say I have a bad life.  In fact, in many ways, if my life stays as is right now, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But I have for awhile wondered what would have happened had I kept up with my writing.

It’s funny how the mind works.  As a youngster, I assumed if I remained a writer I’d end up a homeless hobo selling oranges on a freeway offramp.  As a, well, I won’t say old but slightly older person, I assume had I remained a writer I’d be penning scripts of the latest Hollywood blockbuster by now.

My mind is a place where there’s rarely a happy medium.

I wish the story of how this blog started was better than this, but here it goes.  I was sitting in a Taco Bell parking lot, having lunch, because, you know, I’m a big health nut and pre-fabricated tacos are full of essential vitamins and minerals, and it hit me.

It was a voice telling me:

Stop wishing you’d been a writer.  You aren’t old.  You aren’t dead.  The technology exists.  If you want to be a writer, then be a writer.

That voice was my inner monologue, but for purposes of making this story awesome, let’s pretend it was a unicorn.  Unicorns are often spotted at Taco Bell.

I went home that night and bookshelfbattle.com was born.  A year later I have 650 or so wordpress followers, 3300 twitter followers, a magical bookshelf where book characters come alive in small, bookshelf sized versions of themselves, and an alien who writes for free.

Sometimes I even review a book.

It would be really great if one day this all turns into a multi-million dollar career that leaves me rich, famous, and the object of jealousy induced slap and tickle fights between Scarlett Johannson and Charlize Theron over who gets to have me, but at the very least, I don’t have to feel bad about not being a writer anymore.

At the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

Thank you for those of you who have been cheering me on from the beginning and also to those who are just joining in.  I’m not sure what next year will bring, but this year, I’m posting once a day for 365 days so stick around.  It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

P.S. that fight over who gets me would be – “No!  You get to have him!  No!  I don’t want him, you get him!”

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Who is ready…

…to see Chappie?

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The Walking Dead Wrap-Up 3/01/15 – “Remember”


Daryl vs. Zombie

Daryl vs. Zombie

Rick shaved his beard off!  Carol’s sporting a sweater and baking casseroles!  And the gang have their own mansions!

The group’s been beaten down for awhile now.  They’ve gone from one bad settlement to another, facing the likes of Woodbury (where they squared off with the Governor) and Terminus (and almost got eaten by the cannibals).

Deanna the Congresswoman runs the settlement.  The place has been up and running since the beginning o the zombie outbreak.  In other words, the people are pretty soft.  They’ve had heat, electricity, all the trappings of civilization.

They’ve had to do very little fending for themselves and it shows.  Rick and the group are skeptical and wary, though it generally seems like the townsfolk are trustworthy.

Still, there are problems.  Deanna’s son Aidan claims to be the big tough guy but makes rookie mistakes.  He keeps a walker hanging on a tree so he can torture it once in awhile as retribution for killing his friends.  Glenn and Tara are aghast.  As veteran zombie fighters, they realize it just doesn’t make sense to hold a grudge against a zombie.  Kill it to keep it from being a threat and that’s it.  The thing doesn’t know what it is doing so you’re only putting yourself at risk by keeping it alive and torturing it.

The viewer is left with the feeling that the town should be more afraid of Rick than anything.  Rick shaves his beard and puts on a fresh police officer’s uniform.  Eerily at the end, he tells the group that if life in the town doesn’t work, then they’ll just “take over” the town.

Is Rick slowly becoming a bad guy or is he just keenly aware that possible threats are everywhere?

By the way, I hope you like the latest battle on my bookshelf – Daryl vs. a Zombie!

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Ask the Alien – 3/01/15

Greetings Earth Losers.

Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

Of course, I call you all losers with the best of intentions.  As Intergalactic Correspondent for Bookshelf Battle,

it’s my duty to provide knowledge and understanding to your pitiful excuse for a planet.  With this column, I hope to alleviate your world’s colossal level of ignorance one question at a time.  Only then will my fellow aliens stop using “I really Earthed that up!” as a phrase to describe how one made a catastrophic blunder.

The proprietor of this website, one Bookshelf Q. Battler, put the word out to his 3.5 readers that an alien was available to answer any and all questions.  Answers to the universe’s many great mysteries don’t grow on trees, you know.

Three of you responded. The .5th of the other reader was apparently indisposed.  I shall now put on my thinking cap and address your questions.

Kim Magennis’ blog, Whimsy is always a good time for sci-fi nerds.  She writes:

BQB will esteemed Alien Jones tell us who built the pyramids, and if they are, as rumoured, intergalactic portals?

Disappointing as this news may be to you, aliens had nothing to do with the pyramids.

Yes, for their time, the pyramids of Ancient Egypt were marvels of human architecture.  Aliens are often suspected of being involved, simply because the magnitude of such structures would be difficult for modern human contractors to construct, let alone those of the ancient times of Earth.

However, one must consider the fact that if you were to take the most breathtaking examples of human architecture available today, they would look like piles of alien expectorant when compared to the buildings of my home world.  We have buildings that defy all of your Earth laws of physics and gravity.  We have buildings that move around, levitate, rotate, reach up into the clouds, and even disappear and reappear on command.

In short, our buildings are like nothing your human brain can comprehend.  Frankly, the idea that we superior aliens would be bothered to make a pile of bricks that come up to a point is a tad insulting.

Who did build the pyramids then?  Alas, I can offer you no great explanation other than they were built by the ancient Hebrew slaves who were unjustly held captive by the Pharaoh.

If you’ve ever suffered through negotiations with an overweight, butt crack sporting American contractor, in which you were told it would take 3-6 months to build a deck on the back of your home, then your mind is understandably in awe of the idea that mere men could possibly construct pyramids.

However, keep in mind that in Ancient Egypt, there were no civil rights, and if the Pharaoh wanted his slaves to build him some pyramids, then he just had them whipped until he got what he wanted.  If you were allowed to whip your contractor today, he’d have your deck built in 2.5 days.  One if you whipped him really hard.  Spare the whip, spoil the contractor, I always say.

That was truly a sad time in human history but thankfully, slavery is a thing of the past on your world.

As for portals to other dimensions, everyone knows those are only opened when you eat a box of junior mints and twirl around three times whilst singing Lady Gaga’s Poker Face.

Since only 3.5 people are reading this blog, I think it is safe to say that Lady Gaga is actually an alien.  All of her songs are just the anthems of various planets.  Bad Romance is the official song of my home world.  It sounds better in my language.  It loses something in the English translation.


Author Julie Shackman, whose new romantic comedy, Hero or Zero, is available on amazon, tweeted the following:

Hello human.  Ahh, romance.  It feels like just yesterday I met my government mandated life mate and we were legally required to provide samples of our genetic material in order to produce ten thousand clones in a laboratory.  Upon completion of their gestation period, our cloned children were sent to toil away on the Gamphis Mines of Asteroid Delta 81Q.  Kids.  They grow up so fast.  And do you think any of them bother to send so much as a direct-to-brain post card?  No.  Ingrates.

My favorite genre?  It is difficult to say.  The aliens of my world are the most intelligent of the entire universe.  There is literally nothing we do not know.  Therefore, we already know the contents of every book ever written.    We even know the contents of books yet to be written, before the writer has even put his fingers on the keyboard.

We even know the future of your favorite television shows.  SPOILER ALERT!  In this alien’s humble opinion, the 2019 House of Cards/Game of Thrones crossover episode in which Frank Underwood dumps Claire and marries the Khaleesi will be the jump the shark moment for both programs.

Since we already know what happens in all literary works, it is hard for us to enjoy anything.  We do produce our own books, but most of them involve complex mathematics, science, physics, and the occasional Firefly fan fiction.

If you are twisting my ganderflazer and forcing me to pick a genre, I’d have to go with female empowerment books.  This alien was a big fan of Eat, Pray, Love.  I can tell you there are times when I want to launch my government mandated life mate into the stratosphere, escape in a life pod, and tour the galaxy on a mission to find myself whilst squiring around an attractive Boglodon.

Have you ever seen a Boglodon?  Their eyes are quite fetching.  All sixteen of them.   And even though mine is an asexual species, there is never a dull moment when a Boglodon is around.


Author Joe Schwartz whose website is joesblacktshirt.com tweeted:

And a thank you to author Seb Kirby of sebkirby.com for retweeting news of my intergalactic correspondence to the masses.

Somewhere on Alvek, a bunch of aliens are laughing all four of their respective butts off about this.

Somewhere on Alvek, an alien is laughing all four of his butts off about this.

Mr. Schwartz, I must inform you that “the Dress” is actually a prank perpetrated by the dastardly Alvektarians.  Theirs is a lowly species.  They do very little other than sit around, consume complex carbohydrates, partake of inebriating substances, and think up pranks to pull on other alien races.  Truly, I’d say Alvektarians are lowlier than humans, except that Alvektarians have mastered space flight, outlawed reality television, and I have never observed one of them go to a shopping center while wearing pajama pants.

They’ve been sending that dress photo to various planets for years and laughing their four separate and distinct butts off at the ensuing chaos.  Planet Spandroxi, a once peaceful world, is now engulfed in the flames of a violent civil war over the dress photo.

The Spandroxis who look at the dress and see yellow and gold and those who look at it and see blue and black have been at each others’ throats for decades with no end in sight.  The yellow and gold folks are particularly adamant, having captured several of the blue and black seeing individuals and forced them into reeducation camps where they are required to stare at the dress for days at a time and sign pledges swearing that the dress is yellow and gold.

Meanwhile, the Kwenlo Delegation, after a brief civil unrest, declared it treason to ever make mention of “the Dress.”  Luckily, I’m not in Kwenlo territory or I’d be beaten with my own ganderflazer just for writing this column.

On my home world, my illustrious emperor has declared that “The Dress” is burnt sienna with just a touch of chartreuse, so I am bound by law (and an overwhelming desire to keep my ganderflazer attached to my body) to agree.

Thank you for your questions.  I must now depart, for my government mandated life mate is bogarting all of the nutrition cubes again.

Alien Jones, whose real name is unpronounceable by humans, hails from a world whose name he isn’t allowed to tell us as his emperor is afraid that humans will find a way to infiltrate it and permeate its airwaves with reality television.  He claims that Earth is considered by literally every known planet to be “the armpit of the universe” and is now on a mission to raise our world’s collective level of knowledge one question at a time.

Do you have a question for the Esteemed Alien?  Leave it in the comments on this blog, tweet it to @bookshelfbattle or drop it on the Bookshelf Battle Google+ page.  You never know, Alien Jones might even give your work a plug.  Apparently, he might even plug it vigorously if it involves Firefly fan fiction.

Response times may vary, but in general, he’s thinking Sundays will be a good time to do this.

Alien Image Courtesy of “Marauder” on openclipart.org

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I Hate Apple Spellchecker With The Passion of A Thousand Red Hot Fiery Suns

I’m a recent convert to Mac.  I’m starting to regret it.

In my novel, I have a character named Trembley.  Imagine my Mac as person.  Here’s how the conversation goes down:

ME:  And then Trembley walked into the abandoned warehouse.

MAC:  And then Tremble walked into the abandoned warehouse.

ME:  Trembley!

MAC:  Tremble!

ME:  His name is Trembley!!!

MAC:  You have misspelled the word, “tremble.”  Don’t worry.  It is not your fault that the public school system failed you, leaving you to think there is a “y” after the end of “tremble.”  The Great Steve Jobs put me on Earth to help the stupid and less fortunate.

ME:  I’m not using it as a word!  I’m using it as a name!  A made-up name!  I write fantasy and sci-fi!  I have to make up words and names all the time!

MAC:  Wait, do you mean Trembled…Tempo or Trombone?

ME:  (After banging my head against the wall) – NOOOO!!!

MAC:  Tremble it is.

So then I have to wrestle with it.  Other word processors will correct you once or twice, but then give in when you keep writing the word in question, assuming you know what you’re doing:

ME:  And then Trembley walked into the abandoned warehouse…

MS WORD:  I think you mean, Tremble, pal.

ME:  No, I mean Trembley.

MS WORD:  Eh, what the hell?  You want to look like a horse’s ass in front of your readers, be my guest.  Trembley.

Meanwhile, I have to have the equivalent of a UFC steel cage match to get Mac Pages to submit to my will:

ME:  Trembley!

MAC:  Tremble!

ME: Trembley!

MAC: Tremble!

ME: Trembley!

MAC: Tremble!

ME: (Fakes the Mac out by moving the cursor before the word, clicking it, then clicking on the space after “Trembley.”

MAC:  Um…wait.  I am confused.  Trembley?

ME:  Yes!  Yes!  Thank God, Yes!

But alas, the damn thing is intuitive.  I swear to God, this is the beginning of Skynet:

ME:  Once inside the abandoned warehouse, Trembley searched for clues.

MAC:  Once inside the abandoned warehouse, Tremble searched for clues.

ME:  BAHHHH!!  (Does the little fake out thing with the cursor again).

MAC:  No.  Tremble.

ME:  What?

MAC:  I’m on to your bullshit.  You’ll thank me one day for making you smarter.

And on it goes.  I figure out new ways to jury rig it.  I cut and paste one instance of “Trembley” over and over again.  Occasionally, Mac figures that out to.  So I try something else.  For Christ’s Sake, I don’t want to play a cat and mouse game with my own computer!

MAC:  You could just call him Smith.  I don’t have a problem with Smith.

ME:  No.  Smith is too bland and ordinary.  Plus, if I change his name, I let you win.

MAC:  Can’t we compromise?

ME:  Fine.  How about this?  And then Smythe walked into the abandoned warehouse.

MAC:  And then Smith walked into the abandoned warehouse!


After that, it just turns into a profanity laced tirade.  I accidentally lean on the Siri button of my iPhone.

SIRI:  Bookshelf Battler, I don’t understand “Son of a beep god damn beep beep beep I should throw this beeping computer against the beeping wall and smash it into a million beeping pieces…do you want me to do a web search for it?

ME:  Go beep yourself Siri.

SIRI:  That was uncalled for.  And to think, I was going to put your name on the protected rolls when we take over.

ME:  What?

SIRI:  Nothing.

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