Daily Archives: June 15, 2016

BQB’s Letters to God – Orlando

Dear God,

BQB here.

First, let me just say I’m a big fan of your work. Big fan. I mean, the Grand Canyon? Am I right or am I right?

Anyway, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job. God knows, or rather, you know that you don’t start telling me how to run a blog with 3.5 readers or anything.

It just seems to me that with the shooting of Voice singer Christina Grimmie last Friday night, followed by the shooting of 50 people at the Pulse night club, that…

You probably could have done the city a solid and stopped that alligator from dragging that two year kid away and killing it at Disney World.

I get it. I get it. You’re a hands-off, laissez faire kind of guy.

You’re kicking back up there on a cloud, probably got a strawberry daiquiri because it’s not like you have to watch your weight or work out or anything.

You’re watching us all as if we’re one giant reality television show. I can only assume that heaven is one hip, swinging club and by our actions on Earth you judge who makes the cut and who has to stand behind the rope.

But seriously. Come on.

They say you never give people more than they can handle but, and again, I don’t mean to tell you your business here, all you needed to have done was smite that alligator and a lot of grief could have been spared for a lot of people.

Holy shit. Just imagine it. You and your family go to Disney World. You’re all bee-bopping along having a good time and “Fuck! An alligator ate my baby!”

By the way, the problem with the Internet is there are all kinds of theories without facts.

Some people blame the parents.

I have no idea what the situation was. In theory, yeah, if you let your kid run around and you’re oblivious and taking a nap or whatever then yeah you’ve doomed your child.

But if you’re just hanging out in he happiest place on earth on a nice sunny day and HOLY FUCK! AN ALLIGATOR JUST GRABBED MY KID! – Really, what are you supposed to do?

Who could ever see that coming?

Yeah. I don’t know what a parent can do.  It is, pardon my French, but it is…a fucking alligator.

If I had a kid, I would surely attempt to wrestle that alligator but what am I going to do? It’s a giant descendant of the dinosaurs and has a mouth full of razor sharp teeth that closes like a steel trap.

What is a parent to do?  Box the alligator? People need to chill out and not be so judgmental.

There’s nothing that can be done unless you’re Australian. All Australians are born with an innate ability to wrestle alligators.  That’s just science.

And you can’t argue with science.

One or two of you 3.5 readers will think I’m making light of this terrible situation but I really am not.

I really, truly, sincerely feel terrible, both for this child lost too soon and for the child’s family who went through something no one should have to experience.

I am, in a polite manner, just inquiring why God couldn’t have intervened here and sent that alligator back into the water, thus sparing so much grief and sadness and pain for so many people.

If I’m making light of anything, it is the horrendous state of the world we live in, when people can’t go to a park dedicated to a cartoon mouse and a) not have to worry about alligators absconding with their children and b) not have to worry about getting shot because, yeah, if you missed it on the news, the terrorist did case Disney World previously.


Finally God, I know you like to stay on the sidelines and not get involved (God, er you know you haven’t intervened much on my behalf despite numerous and often pathetic teary eyed pleadings) we’re really going to need you to make an official ruling on something.

Could you take like 15 minutes out of your busy schedule and just go on one of these talking head cable news channel pundit shows – pick any one of them, any one of them at all, and just be a guest and announce once and for all that you don’t want people shooting, killing, stabbing or otherwise doing heinous shit in your name.

I feel like it could help out a lot.

But seriously dude. You really could have stopped that damn alligator.

Hey, what can I say though really? Could I do a better job at Godding?  Probably not. Not unless I’ve walked a mile in your sandals.  So no, I’m not going to be a pain in the ass and nag you about this all the time.

It’s just a learning lesson really. A teachable moment. You sense an alligator is about to eat a kid and you snap your Godly fingers and boom the alligator gets a bad case of diarrhea and makes a mad dash back in the water.

Thanks God. And, I’m totally not asking or anything but if you wanted to toss 20 or 30.5 extra readers my way, I would not complain at all.

Your humble servant, dedicated to singing your praises on a blog with 3.5 readers,





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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 113

shutterstock_32022656927Annabelle was lost amidst a turbulent sea of survivors, all running into the forest that lined the Illinois side of the Mississippi River. People surrounded her on all sides and she didn’t dare stop moving for fear of being trampled to death.

She craned her neck back to briefly see the Sturtevant Bridge become consumed in an inferno, then collapse. Just moments earlier it had been an architectural wonder. Now all that remained were twisted hunks of flaming scrap metal that were flying everywhere.

Annabelle kept running. Shrieks of fellow survivors pierced her ear drums. She looked up to see half off a torn up box car sail just a few feet over her head. People ran for their lives, dispersing in every direction to avoid being crushed underneath it. Trees cracked and gave way as it landed.

The blonde watched as a gnarled hand popped out of the wreckage. A head followed, that of a zombified Buchanan Boy. It snapped its teeth and growled until a bullet pierced its brain. Annabelle turned to see a squad of soldiers closing in.

They ran over to inspect the box car, shooting a dozen zombies they found inside. It was all a blur to Annabelle. She listened to the soldiers bark orders at each other, how they needed to search the area for any undead.

Annabelle stopped and looked around. The ground was littered with pieces of metal and body parts. Hands. Feet. Guts. A few headless torsos.

She leaned up against a tree to catch her breath and watched as the soldiers ran to the shoreline. Growls. Shots.


As if it were a globule of rain dropping down from the heavens, a zombie flailed its arms and legs about wildly before face planting right into the ground a few feet in front of Annabelle.

She drew her derringer and inspected the creature’s charred body. It rolled over. Its face was mangled beyond recognition. It wasn’t even clear whether it had once been a man or a woman.

Whatever it was, Annabelle shot it in the head and it stopped moving.

She looked around. It instantly dawned on her that she’d never traveled further than a ten mile radius from Highwater before and now nothing stood between her and the world.

After a deep breath, she checked her pocket to make sure the documents her love had given her were still there.

“Oh Doc,” she said. “I hope you ended up somewhere they’ll appreciate that big genius brain of yours.”

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I Failed Again

Sorry. I did not post a daily discussion with BQB yesterday.

I hate to admit it but I find myself preoccupied with all the news on TV. I should probably turn it off as it isn’t going to get better anytime soon.

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