I saw two dudes riding around in what appeared to be half/motorcycles half/cars – like a motorcycle you sit down in.
That’s not really the best description but that’s the limit of my ability to describe it.
If you know what it is, let me know. I don’t want to buy one but I’m mildly curious to found out more about what they are and how they work.
The Missouri shoreline was littered with wreckage and zombie parts. Slade and Sarah held on to to their furry life raft as he swam to shore. The young wolf deposited his humans into the sand then become a boy again, huffing and puffing from exhaustion.
Slade removed Sarah’s gag.
“Why…why did you call me…”
Sapped of all her strength, Slade’s bride passed out.
“Oh God,” Slade said. “She’s dead.”
Miles looked at Sarah. “She’s fine. I can see her breathing.”
“No,” the lawman said. “Bonnie.”
“Oh,” Miles replied.
The boy sniffed the air. “She’s fine too.”
Slade shook his head in disbelief. “How could you possibly…”
Miles shrugged his shoulders. “My nose knows.”
Slade grabbed hold of Sarah’s limp body and hoisted it over his shoulder.
“Come on!” Slade shouted at the boy.
“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do aren’t you?” Miles asked just before he returned to wolf form.
“Yeah, yeah,” Slade said as he climbed up on the werewolf’s back. He held Sarah close with his left hand and clutched a clump of fur with his right. “Mind your own business, fur ball.”
Hey 3.5 readers.
Do you stumble upon this blog by accident? Were you looking for directions on how to get away from here?
Anyway, the world of Bookshelf Q. Battler can be very confusing. Here is a rudimentary guide that you should read immediately.
Drop everything you are doing, study it intently, and allow all other important doings in your life to be neglected.
Bookshelf Q. Battler.
Our humble poindexter’s life is so vastly complicated that everything you need to know to avoid confusion has been laid out before you as follows:
Part 1 – Bookshelf Q. Battler, the 3.5 Readers and the Magic Bookshelf – or, the Head Nerd in Charge, the people who waste their time on his schlock, and the mystical piece of office furniture that makes his life interesting.
Part 2 – The Magic Bookshelf Characters – aka the little people who are eating BQB out of house and home, when they aren’t trying to blow it up.
Part 3 – BQB’s Family and BQB HQ – Where BQB hangs his hat and the people (and dog) most welcome there.
Part 4 – The Aliens – The Mighty Potentate who has declared that Earth’s fate rests on BQB’s writing career (sorry, Earth) and Alien Jones, the being dispatched by the Potent One to watch…
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Sorry 3.5 readers.
I never did post the answers to this, did I?
The answers:
1) C – Uncle Hardass believes there’s no tougher job in the world than working at the salt mines. Whether you are president or a toilet scrubber, if you tell him you have a job anywhere other than the salt mines, he will address you as if you are a lazy bum that has no job.
2) B – BQB was a member of the Funky Hunks. He still gets checks for 3 cent residuals once a year. Some lady in North Dakota keeps buying the Funky Hunks’ jams.
3) B – BQB’s main squeeze is the incomparable Video Game Rack Fighter.
4) D – BQB is the assistant to the assistant to the vice-president of corporate assistance at Beige Corp., the world’s premeire producer of beige products and accessories. It is as exciting as the color the company is dedicated to.
5) B – Indeed, BQB died on the porcelain throne after eating a lightning infused toaster pastry. A bolt of lighting tore out of his tucas with roughly the strength and speed of a thousand jet engines. God allowed him to return for a second chance at life and he has used this chance to entertain 3.5 readers.
6) A – Leo claims to have once delivered a sandwich to James Van Der Beek and therefore as the man who delivered a sandwich to James Van Der Beek, claims that he is the most famous man in East Randomtown. Further, he sees BQB’s blog with 3.5 readers as a threat to his fame.
7) D – The Burger Wagon has not yet sponsored this fine blog, but BQB is currently in negotiations.
8) D – Yetis, backward in technology as they are, prefer Commodore 64s.
9) D – Dr. Hugo invented all three of these fine inventions.
10) C – Intergalactic fast food workers are no better than the ones we have on Earth. The Mighty Potentate has often threatened Alien Jones with vaporization for failing to bring back honey mustard for his chicken fingers.
Really, you hate to be a dick, but you’ve got to look in that bag before you pull away from the window. Don’t trust those minimum wage slaves. They don’t make enough to care about your taste buds.
In honor of the two year anniversary of bookshelfbattle.com, test your knowledge vis a vis all things Bookshelf Q. Battler.
Post your answers in the comments. Answers to come later. Prize=absolutely nothing. This blog has no budget.
QUESTION 1
Uncle Hardass wants you to get a job at:
A. McDonald’s
B. The Manure Factory
C. The Salt Mines
D. A Nissan Sentra Dealership
QUESTION 2
BQB was once a member of which late 1990’s/early 2000’s rap duo:
A. The Sweaty Boys
B. The Funky Hunks
C. West Street Posse
D. The Hairy Chest Duo
QUESTION 3
BQB’s current girlfriend is:
A. Blandie Settler
B. Video Game Rack Fighter
C. The Hot Ass Blonde Chick from Network News One
D. Katie Sackhoff-bot
QUESTION 4
BQB’s employer is:
A. Tan Stuff Unlimited
B. Grey Wonder Shop
C. Stucco Shack
D. Beige Corp.
QUESTION 5
BQB once died on the toilet after eating…
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Hi 3.5 Readers.
BQB here.
Tough times we’re living in aren’t we?
The Freedom Loving Western World is under attack. Gay people can’t go to clubs without being shot at by terrorists. Kids can’t go to Disney World without being eaten by alligators.
I swear if I wake up tomorrow and learn that someone kicked the Easter Bunny in the balls or stole a leprechaun’s pot of gold and didn’t even leave him enough to rent an Uber to get home, I’m just going to stay in bed and eat cookies and pie all weekend in a hopeless state of sadness.
Lots of shit going on. Lots of shit.
You know kids, when I was a young lad opinions were expressed in a much different manner.
Usually, learned men and women, knowledgable experts on particular topics, would appear on talk shows, debate one another, listen to what each other had to say and agree to disagree.
Sure, they were at times mean about it. Pettiness isn’t new to politics. It’s been around.
But by and large you go the impression that some of these TV pundits probably got together afterwards for tacos or whatever.
Times, they are a-changing.
Thanks to the wondrous Internet, everyone has an opinion, and everyone can express it despite a lack of qualifications or credentials or what have you.
And if your Facebook feed is anything like mine lately, its burning up with a lot of tomfoolery.
Remember, this blog isn’t political, because I have often said, I want all people of all different views to buy the book I have not yet finished and make me rich.
Really, the important part is where I get rich.
At any rate, nothing in this post is directed at anyone or side in particular, but in general, no matter what side of the debate you are on, here are some things to keep in mind in order to keep it civil.
#1 – Unless the person who posted a comment that offended you holds some type of public office or an otherwise influential position, their post is unlikely to have much impact on the issue, so you need not view it as a virtual grenade to throw yourself on at all costs.
EXAMPLE:
POSTER: “I think that…”
YOU: Lies! The study of So and So University, completed in 2010 by Professor So and So on yadda yadda yadda….
Seriously, just stop being that shit head who spends 19 hours writing a reply to your Cousin Fred that you see once a year on Thanksgiving. Fred is a Goddamn part-time night janitor at the Arby’s off highway exit 7.
World leaders are not going to read Cousin Fred’s post and be like, “Holy shit! We never thought about it THAT way! Thanks Fred! You the man! We’re going to get on that right now!”
Just let Fred have his opinion and move on. Keep in mind, Cousin Fred has probably held his tongue many times and moved on after reading some of the mindless bullshit you post.
#2 – If this person is one of your Facebook friends, chances are he/she is important to you in some capacity. Treat them as such.
We’ll just keep picking on Cousin Fred…
COUSIN FRED: “I believe that the treaty of such and such calls for…”
YOU (RIGHT WAY): Either – I respect your opinion Fred or I disagree Fred or just don’t respond.
YOU (WRONG WAY): F&*K you! Someone disagreed with me and now my life is over! I must retreat into my safe space over this micro-agressien! You have ruined my life! Stick your head in the toilet and flush it a thousand times on your hideous face you atrocious, godawful man!!!
Oh and see you at Thanksgiving.
#3 – Stop comparing people to Hitler. Seriously. I don’t care what your ideology is. No one is worse than Hitler. That’s why he was Hitler.
Because I highly doubt that you are Facebook friends with someone who also invaded Poland, then tore ass through the rest of Europe, left England as the last man standing in what appeared to be the impending death of European democracy, then also put millions of Jewish people into camps and starved them and enslaved them and gassed them and killed them and so on, then stop calling them Hitler.
In my opinion, it’s offensive to people who were actual victims of Hitler, from the people who were rounded up and killed due to his orders, to the soldiers who had to put their lives on hold and fight his army and even died in the process.
ANALYIS:
COUSIN FRED: “Obviously, the right thing to do in this situation is to….”
“SHOULD YOU TELL COUSIN FRED THAT HE IS WORSE THAN HITLER?” – A RUBRIC
QUESTION TO ASK YOURSELF – Did Cousin Fred scheme and connive his way into the position of German Chancellor in the 1930’s and then proceed to delve humanity deep into its darkest hour?
IF YES – Then feel free to tell Cousin Fred is worse than Hitler.
IF NO – Then don’t be a dick and don’t tell your Cousin that he’s worse than Hitler. He’s the son of your Mom or Dad’s sibling for f%&k’s sake.
You might need him to donate a kidney or give you a ride or help you move a couch one day only to find yourself stuck on the side of the road with only one lousy kidney and a couch too big to move by yourself all because you couldn’t help yourself from referring to your beloved family member as Hitler.
#4 – Stipulate to reasonable, agreed upon facts. Don’t ask for proof of everything and especially if you know a fact is true. Don’t ask for proof anyway just to be a dick.
COUSIN FRED: “The sky is blue….
YOU: Post a link to an article that provides categorical proof that the sky is blue. Do it. Do it now. You’re taking too long. You can’t find one, can you? Ha! F%*king liar the sky is NOT BLUE AND IT NEVER WAS!
COUSIN FRED: “…and the grass is green…”
YOU: Is it though? Is it really? Have you ever considered that what you see as green and what I see as green might be two completely different colors? Maybe when I see something and think it is green and when you see it and you think it is green but if I could see what you are seeing through my eyes it would appear pink to me and if you could see it through my eyes it would appear purple to you?
COUSIN FRED: “…and the other day Congress passed a bill that…”
YOU: I’m going to need more information on this institution you refer to as “Congress.” Please post a link to some information on what Congress is and how it works. You’re not a scholar of Congressional history, are you? I find it difficult to believe that you hold the necessary qualifications to prove to me that Congress actually exists and that it isn’t some existential hullabaloo that you invented in your mind.
NOTE: Seriously dude. He’s your f%$king cousin. Stop filibustering and/or asking him to post proof of stuff you’re both fully aware of and stop treating the whole discussion like it’s an under the hot lights interrogation. You’re just two asshats on Facebook and in the grand scheme of things, nothing that either of you say ever matters.
#5 – Don’t get personal.
COUSIN FRED: “Senator So and So appeared so stupid when he…
YOU (Right way): I disagree. I think Senator So and So made a good argument.
YOU (Wrong way): He didn’t look anymore stupid than you did when your wife cheated on you with her yoga instructor and she gave you the bill for her yoga instruction so technically you were paying a dude to come into your house while you were at work and bang your wife you giant dumbass.
I mean, yeah, I guess you won the argument…but was it worth it? Cousin Fred will most likely never speak to you again.
Cousin Fred is a human being. He has thoughts and feelings. Let him express them without throwing the yoga instructor he inadvertently paid to bang his wife in his face.
CONCLUSIONS
Those are the top five I can think of. All in all, these are trying times and we all want to get what we are thinking off our chest but, you know…if these people are your friends and/or family, you might want to try to do it in a way in which they want to stick around because let’s be honest, you’re no picnic either.
(That’s directed at other people. You’re all picnics in my book, 3.5 readers.)
But alas the news is too sad to discuss anyway.
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,
BQB
Annabelle 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.
“Gaaaaaaack!!!!”
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.”
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.
Bookshelf Battle 