Daily Archives: February 27, 2016

BQB Reviews Dollar Shave Club

So it’s official.  I’m a member of the Dollar Shave Club.

The Freemasons wouldn’t have me.  The Illuminati said “Illumi-nopey!”  Even the Friar’s Club and the Shriners told me I didn’t meet their high standards.

But the Dollar Shave Club took me in.  So here’s my review.  But first, here’s my shave box:

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I know.  You were hoping to get an inside look at my toiletries, you weirdoes.

I’ve been interested in this for awhile, mostly because of the company’s funny, in-your-face commercials, like this one:

I have to admit, I’m not a daily shaver.  That’s mostly due to laziness.  There’s a little bit of protest thrown in.  Long ago men were able to let their facial hair fly.  We were able to have all kinds of elaborate beards, mustaches and so on.  But now women don’t like that so we have to bow to our XX chromosome overlords.   Now we have to rely solely on our personalities to be interesting. Thanks ladies.  Thanks a lot.

The premise is a) store bought blades are expensive and b) you’ll forget to buy them (I usually don’t get a new set of cartridges until my razor starts growing a foot.

That’s true with most things in life.  You need X product.  You never remember it when you’re at the store so you make due with it until it’s falling apart or gross or whatever and then you remember to get a new one.

Internet entrepreneurs will probably help us out with that one day.  And it’ll be great.  Until Skynet takes over.

On the site, dollarshaveclub.com, there are a varieties of options.  They’ll give you a free handle.  You can get a twin razor blade sent to you once a month for a buck, hence the name of the club.

Or you get go fancier and a little pricier.  I went with “the Executive” – six blades, a little more expensive.  I’m not sure if I just wanted to treat myself or maybe I just wanted to feel like a Fortune 500 CEO.  (Sigh, I didn’t, but that’s besides the point.

It gave a pretty decent shave.  I didn’t detect much difference between that and the Gillette razors I usually use.  So now the razors will come once a month, 4 to a pack, change it every week.

Mostly, it’s just a fun little thing to look forward to.

They also have some bathroom products.  I tried “Dr. Carver’s Shave Butter.”  It’s basically a shave gel.  It lubes up your face and gets the job done, but its mostly clear so it confused the hell out of me.  I realize that means I have a low attention span but still, I prefer the foam because then I know where I have shaved and what still needs to be shaved.

I’m a busy, important man with a blog that caters to 3.5 readers.  I don’t have time to remember what parts of my face I need to shave.

Would I recommend it?  Yes.  There are all kinds of Internet gift box companies.  Give yourself a little monthly present to look forward to.

Will I keep up with it?  Not sure.  As I said, I’m not a daily shaver and often I wait until I’m as furry as the Yeti.  When Video Game Rack Fighter starts beating the snot out of me with a broom because she thinks I’m the Yeti, then I know its time to shave.

At least she said she thought I was the Yeti.  Hmmm…suspicious.

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#OscarsSoPretty

Just a reminder that I will not be watching the Oscars this year as once again the Academy has made it clear that the hideous are not welcome in Hollywood.

Notable snubs:

  • Steve Buscemi
  • Ron Perlman
  • John C. Reilly
  • Sandra Bernhard
  • Seth Rogen
  • Luis Guzman
  • Gary Busey

And the list goes on.

Ugly actors and actresses are tired of being typecast as hobgoblins, villains, trolls living under bridges, and the quirky friend that the leads in rom coms stand next to so they can look hotter.

We’re here.  We’re hideous.  Get used to it.  No longer will we shield our faces with the oppressive paper bags of society.  We will let our ugliness fly.

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How the West Was Zombed – Part 5 – Wedding Crashers

Though his heart belongs to fiery redhead Miss Bonnie, Slade just can’t bring himself to say no to his fiance, Sarah “the Widow” Farquhar.  Slade and Sarah head to Highwater to plan a wedding for the evening.  Actually, Sarah does most of the planning.  Slade acts like a depressed hostage.

Meanwhile, a heavily armed and armored train arrives in town.  Despite an argument filled with chest puffery, Slade is unable to get any information out of villainous lawyer Blythe.

Smelly Jack crashes Slade and Sarah’s wedding in a big way, though as it turns out, in a much bigger way than expected…

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Chapter 37           Chapter 38            Chapter 39

Chapter 40          Chapter 41            Chapter 42

Chapter 43          Chapter 44           Chapter 45

Chapter 46         Chapter 47            Chapter 48

Chapter 49        Chapter 50            Chapter 51

Chapter 52        Chapter 53

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 53

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Anabelle and Ophelia helped a very unsteady Sarah into the church.  Reverend Cavanaugh came out to study the bodies.

“You shot them,”  the Reverend said.

“Yup,” Gunther replied.

“And they died?”  the Reverend asked.

“Deader than a doornail,” Gunther said.

“And they just…got up and walked around again?”  the Reverend asked.

“All hungry like,” Gunther said.  “Looking at us like they were fixing to eat us for supper.”

Doc removed the handkerchief he’d been holding up against his scratch.  “Yes.  I even bare the mark of their loathsome desire for human flesh.”

“I think you’ll live,” Gunther said.

“You’re sure they died the first time?” the Reverend asked.

“What?” Gunther asked.

“Perhaps you thought you killed them but you didn’t,” the Reverend said.

“We turned them into Swiss cheese and they still kept coming,” Gunther said.

“They were dead,” Slade said.  “I got Jack right in the heart.  Stopped his ticker cold.”

“Well,” the Reverend said. “The good book tells us that the dead will rise from the grave on judgment day.”

“My word,”  Doc said. “So concerned was I with a scientific explanation that I never once pondered the possibility that there might be a religious connotation at play.  Do you surmise this is the beginning of the end of days, sir?”

“Could be,” the Reverend said.  “But then again, it might not.”

“Shit,” Gunther said.  “You’re about as much help as Doc.”

“Long have I warned my flock that if mankind does not mend its wicked ways, the Lord will have something to say about it,” the Reverned said.  “Look at our town.  Drinking. Gambling. Violence. Rampant fornication. Lewd and lascivious behavior.”

“Sounds like a typical day in Highwater,” Gunther said.

“Could this be the Lord reaching his righteous hand down from up above to extract vengeance from us for our sinful debauchery?”  the Reverend asked.  “I don’t know.  What I do know is that whenever the Lord wants to teach us a lesson, he does not leave us to wonder about it.  If we are truly doomed then there will be a sign that removes all of the guessing from the equation.”

The sound of a massive explosion ended the conversation.  The noise came from the south side of town.  Slade felt a panic wash over him as he instantly worried about a special someone who lived there.

“Bonnie,” he said.

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 52

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The bystanders scattered and ran. Townsend and Blake fled to the church, showing zero interest in offering assistance to anyone. Slade, Gunther and Doc opened fire but the Buchanans kept coming. Jack and his boys were riddled with bullet holes but it didn’t matter. They wanted one thing and one thing alone.

“BRR…AINS!”

Not that they were that bright before, but their vocabulary was now whittled down to one word – “brains.” They had a hunger for sweet, delicious gray matter and nothing was going to stop them from going after it.

“This is some fucked up shit,” Gunther declared as he fired his last shot into Rufus. The old man holstered his gun and drew his knife, preparing to strike whoever dared to attack him first.

“Indeed,” Doc said. “This phenomenon is in direct defiance of every scientific law known to mankind. What is dead should, without exception, continue to stay dead!”

“Any ideas on what to do about it?” Gunther asked.

“Other than keep wounding them and pray for a miraculous intervention, no.”

Sarah wailed uncontrollably. Slade’s left gun had already run out of ammo, so he clutched his bride close with his left hand. With his right hand, he aimed directly at Smelly Jack’s head and landed a shot right between the monster’s eyes. Jack’s body collapsed to the ground.

“THE HEAD!” Slade shouted. “AIM FOR THE HEAD!”

Slade popped upon Rufus’ cranium with another well-placed shot. Gunther used every muscle he had to jam his knife through Buck’s skull.

“Of course!” Doc said. “Even the most rudimentary organisms are unable to function without a brain.”

Doc pressed his pistol right up against Frank’s forehead.

“Right then,” Doc said. “Off to hell with you, my good man.”

Click. Out of ammo.

“Oh bother,” Doc said as Frank pinned him to the ground.

Doc struggled to free himself as a pair of snapping teeth drew closer and closer to his face. It was no use. The creature was stronger than any man Doc had ever encountered.
Frank’s two front teeth scratched across Doc’s right cheek, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Gunther plunged his knife into the back of Frank’s head. Slade rolled Frank’s carcass off of the good doctor and helped him up.

Annabelle, who had been hiding up on the porch, came down.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Doc said as he wiped the blood off of his face with a handkerchief. “In one brief moment, I saw my entire life flash before my very eyes.”

“Was it scary?” Annabelle asked.

“On the contrary,” Doc said. “I was quite impressed.”

Sarah wept. Her once pristine white dress was now covered with dirt, grime, and even blood spatter.

“All I wanted was a nice wedding,” the bride said just before passing out. Slade caught her before she hit the ground.

“Can anyone tell me what the fuck just happened?” Gunther asked.

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