Daily Archives: March 30, 2015

SNL – The Rock as Bambi

As a lover of action movies who will be there opening night for Fast 7, this was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time:

“Wham…bam…Bambi!”

“I’m always thumpin…”

“Yeah, it’s always somethin'”

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Storming the Castle of Success

Nothing in my life has ever been easy.

At times, I get down about that.

Imagine success is a castle.  For some people, the drawbridge just opens and in they go.  They are welcomed with rainbows, unicorns, leprechauns, fuzzy bunny rabbits, and juggling clowns.  Nice clowns, not scary ones.  The ones who make you balloon animals.

I’m not knocking them.  I’m sure they’re good people.  I’m sure they were all qualified for entry into the castle.  Even if they’re not, I believe success is something that everyone should have.  Them being less successful does not cause me to become more successful, so there’s no point to being displeased with them.  I just wish them a happy journey and tell them to say hi to the leprechauns for me.

Then there’s me.  When I knock on the door to the Castle of Success, out come the orcs, the dragons, the flame sword wielding dark knights, the zombies, the bow men, the pike men, the pointy stick men, the pots of boiling oil and the catapults.

Bodiam Castle, East Sussex, England, 11 October 2005

As I stare out in the sea of evil that stands between me and the Castle of Success, I can’t help but think, “What is wrong with me?”

And then the questions pour in:

“Where did I go wrong?”

“What could I have done differently?”

“Was there a point in my life where I was blind?  Did I miss a nice, clear path to success?  One that did not involve orcs, dragons, et al?  What mistake did I make to cause me to veer from this path?”

“Look at all these damn orcs, dragons, monsters, and so on.  Is it too much?  Should I just give up and walk away?”

“Surely, as tough as things are, there are many people who have it worse than I do.  They wish they had a chance to fight the orcs, the dragons, the monsters, et al.  They’re still stuck in the countryside, wishing they were in the general vicinity of the Castle of Success.”

Inside the Castle of Success, there is a book I have written.

I miss the days when I was young and able to stay up 48 hours straight writing term papers fueled by nothing but Monster Energy Drinks and feel fine.  Doing that today would leave me feeling like I got hit by a Mac Truck.

There’s no more “I’ll leave it till the last minute then stay up all night.”  There’s only “be responsible and do a little bit every day.”

The burdens of life settle in.  The Castle of Success is right there within walking distance.  The orcs and dragons are waiting to fight me.  They’re getting impatient, checking their watches and wondering if they should just give up.  Maybe I’ll never manage to take them on.

I could stop and lie down.  This spot on the grass seems comfy.  Yes, I could fight the orcs and win, or I could become an orc’s lunch and end up losing my nice comfy spot on the grass.  Decisions, decisions.

One orc gives up and cracks open a book.  Another watches “The Walking Dead Orcs” on his Orc-Pad.

I hate Orcs.  More than Yetis.

And so I sit down and wait.  And I stare at the orcs, dragons, knights with fire swords, zombies, bow men, hot oil droppers, etc etc and I wonder if things will ever click in my life so that I can find a way to take them all on…i.e. a strategy for working on a book in small increments every day that will eventually pay off.

I get up one morning and decide “Today is the day I’ll work hard on my book.”  By nightfall, 500 unexpected occurrences happen that draw my attention away from anything having remotely to do with writing.

And then when I do get a chance to write…I criticize myself like I’m a super-charged Robert Ebert.

Will I ever get over my perfectionism?  Will I ever realize that not every TV, movie, book, piece of entertainment is 100 percent perfect?  That I just need to get my ideas on paper the best I can, get them proofread, edited, into a book, and then swing for the fences?

I look to my left and my right.  People are just strolling all carefree into their respective Castles of Success.  Part of me assumes everything is so easy for them.  Another part, a better part, reminds me that inside every person is a battle we know nothing about – that inside people who seem to have it all together there might, in fact, be a struggle we’ve never seen, nor do we want to.

Maybe it only looks like they’re being greeted by leprechauns and bunnies.  Maybe the leprechauns are crazy.  Maybe the bunnies have sharp teeth.  We only see successful people in the best possible light.  We have no idea what they went through.  We shouldn’t bash them.  Bringing other people down will never raise us up.  “I’m doing so poorly because others are doing so well” is an illogical fallacy.

I need to disregard them.  Whether its easy for them or not is not my concern.  My concern is the fact that every accomplishment I’ve ever made has not come easy.  It has come by fighting orcs, dragons, and zombies for what I do have.

Knowledge is power and knowing that the orcs and dragons must be fought to reach the Castle makes me stronger.  I must stop lamenting my lot in life, quit playing the “woe is me game,” and stop hoping that the Castle of Success will magically come to me.

I know I never get anywhere without a fight and I must fight my way to the Castle.  Worse, I must fight myself, which is no easy feat, for I am harder on myself than the orcs and so on.

So I forget all that and focus on my personal orcs.  And dragons.  And monsters, zombies, flame sword nights, guys with boiling pots of oil, and also the purple purple Indian arm burn rubbers.  I hate those guys the most.

I may never leave my comfy spot on the grass.  Part of me says forget these orcs.  The other part says if dreaming about fighting the orcs is what gets you through the day then so be it, even if you never leave the grass.

I’ve run out of things to say.   I must fight these orcs and find my way into..the Castle of Success.

I am Bookshelf Q. Battler.  I read books.  I try to write novels.  I fight Yetis.  I have 3.5 readers.  And I hate orcs.

Bodiam Castle Image Courtesy of Flickr User Phillip Capper via a Creative Commons License

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Walking Dead Season Finale Wrap-Up 3/30/15

Wow!  What a finale!

  • Big scenes for Glenn, Rick, Sasha, and more
  • What’s up with those wolves?!
  • I was wondering how they got all those zombies into those trailers!
  • Carol =Stepford wife on the outside/Evil on the inside
  • Morgan became a ninja!
  • Daryl trapped in that car!
  • Awesome stuff!  This show’s great!

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And an extra Walking Dead spin-off coming next year!

What say you?

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Alien Jones Announcement

ATTENTION ATTENTION

Alien Jones was hit by a space bus on his way to buy nutrition cubes.  He’s fine but he’s skipping his column this week to focus on his recovery.

In the meantime, help a blogger out with #YetiMovies and #ReplaceSongLyricWithYeti

4000 follows gets the smelly Yeti out of my crib.

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True Music Stories Part 2 – The Funky Hunks

BQB here.  I hate the Yeti for sharing this transcript.

Hip Hop/ Rap - Rare Music Video

ANNOUNCER:  From the Learning Center Annex of East Randomtown to Hollywood, the Funky Hunks were on their way to a career in showbiz.  They signed up with Reuben Torkilsen, whose other clients included “The Mysterious Lenny” aka “Mr. Guesses Your Card within Seven Tries or You Get a Coupon to the Sizzler” and Twinkles the Tap-dancing Poodle.

REUBEN:  Boys, we need a third fellow to round out your group.  The more hunks, the better!

BQB (whispers to Bernie):  Um, can we bust on him for saying that?

BERNIE:  I don’t know.  I mean, we’re still in the 90’s but it’s almost 2000 so…

(CUT TO A GRAPHIC THAT READS “FUNKY HUNK AUDITIONS”)

ANNOUNCER:  Reuben, BQB, and Bernie spent the next three days auditioning every aspiring rapper they could find.

REUBEN:  What did you say your name was again, sonny boy?

ASPIRING RAPPER:  Curtis.  Curtis Jackson, Sir.

BQB:  You’re going to need a rap name.

CURTIS:  Well, my friends call me 50-Cent.

BERNIE:  No offense, but that’s the worst rapper name I’ve ever heard.

BQB:  What about “MC Rappy Rap” or “Doctor Rhymey?”

REUBEN:  Boys!  We’ll talk about names later!  Let’s hear what Curtis has to lay down.  Go ahead Curtis!

ANNOUNCER:  There in Reuben’s office, Curtis Jackson laid down the lyrics from the song that would one day make his career:

PARTY IN DA CLUB

BY: 50-CENT

Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go shorty, it’s your birthday
We gonna party like it’s your birthday
We gonna sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday
And you know we don’t give a f#$k it’s not your birthday

Party in the club, bottle full of bub…

(BQB and Bernie look at each other, dumbfounded expressions on their face)

BQB:  Dude, seriously?

CURTIS:  What?

BERNIE:  You’ve got a lady friend and you don’t care whether or not it’s her birthday?

CURTIS:  We’re partyin’ like it’s her birthday.

BQB:  But this woman is supposedly your friend and yet you clearly state “We do not give a f%$k it’s not your birthday.”

REUBEN: Now, hold on, boys.  I think I see the picture here. The song is not so much about the woman’s birthday as it is an expression of the level at which Curtis and his friends are going to party.  They’re going to party at a level which correlates to the amount of glee one would have if it were the birthday of a female friend.

BQB:  I’m sorry.  The song’s total crap.  Sorry Curtis, I don’t think it’s going to work.

ANNOUNCER:  Curtis Jackson aka “50-Cent” went on to dominate the rap game in the early 2000’s, “In Da Club” being blared over the loudspeakers of every sweat dance joint from LA to New York.  Meanwhile, Read N. Plenty went on to become Bookshelf Q. Battler, the proprietor of a book blog with only 3.5 readers.

And Bernie?  He sells oranges on the side of a freeway offramp.

BQB:  I stand by our decision.  Party in the club?  Please.  That song’s going to fizzle out any day now.  By 2030 it will probably only get played on the radio like 20 times a day.

BERNIE:  I don’t stand by our decision at all.  I haven’t sold an orange in years!  Come back to me, Curtis!  I’ll sip all the Bacardi you want and I won’t give a f%$k about anyone’s birthday I swear!

TOMMORROW ON TRUE MUSIC STORIES:  THE AUDITIONS FOR THE THIRD FUNKY HUNK CONTINUE!

“MUSIC” image courtesy of Flickr user raremusicvideo1 via a Creative Commons License

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