Nope, this is not Morgan Freeman at all…
Bookshelf Battle
The only site where new bestsellers are forced to do battle for space on a nerd's bookshelf.
Monthly Archives: March 2017
The Bookshelf Battle Cast – Movie Trailer Guy Impression
Please just listen to this clip, where a very talented man does a movie trailer guy voice impression to describe my podcast. Try not to pee your pants laughing. I feel bad because my own voice is nowhere near this awesome.
Search Engine Optimized Poet – Nude Photos of Kim Kardashian
:::Bongo Drum Beats:::
Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.
Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?
Kim K! Whoa, Kim K!
Your search for her butt brought you this way.
A corpulent derriere that chases the blues away
And leaves you without anything left to say.
Hooray! It’s what I say when I see an increase in my 401K.
How do I open up one of those accounts anyway?
I must find out today. Or maybe tomorrow.
Is there a way to cure my depression? My source of everlasting sorrow?
Go! To your favorite place to eat.
Where is the closest restaurant that I can walk to with my feet?
Heat. How warm is the weather?
Yikes. To my computer I am attached with a tether.
Feather. What kind does an ostrich have on its back?
“That’s whack.” People used to say that in 1994.
Hey! Is someone knock, knock knocking on my back door?
I really should wash my dirty kitchen floor.
To my bucket, what is the very best soap that I can pour?
I adore…Adele but I can’t pick which song of hers I like more.
Shore. How long will it take to swim there?
Is it possible to survive an attack from an angry bear?
There! That’s the end of this artistic rant.
And now your demand for nude photos of Kim Kardashian is what I will grant.
If you desire to see the most gigantic butt in the world, then pop open a beer.
Put up your feet and don’t forget to click here.
Things That Really Frost My Ass – The Beach, Defective Pistachios, Itches In Bad Places
By: Uncle Hardass, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Grumpy Old Man Correspondent
Hello degenerate 3.5 readers.
Still working on your writing careers I see? Good for you. You know, I just wrote a poem. Let me know what you think:
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Get your ass a job at the salt mines.
Yes, I’m talking to you.
Ah, but we all know you won’t. That’s ok. Just keep being a major disappointment to your parents. I don’t have time to complain about your lack of a work ethic anyway, because I have the following complaints instead:
#1 – The Beach
Do you know some slack jawed buffoon who, every summer, walks around like a schmuck saying, “I love the beach!” Well, do the world a favor and slap that idiot about eighty or ninety times in the face with a wet noodle, will ya?
Holy crap sandwich, how I hate the beach. It’s hot. It smells. It’s filled with assholes who are just sitting around like a bunch of fat, bloated iguanas, splayed out under the hot sun burning themselves to a crisp because they think getting tan will somehow make them look better. I’m sorry, but tanning doesn’t remove ugly. If you were ugly before, you’ll be ugly after.
Here’s an important quote to remember:
“Well, I thought you were ugly before but now I really want to have sex with you now that you sat out on the beach and got burnt to a crisp all day like a stupid dumbass.”
– Literally No One Ever
And who wants to swim in the open ocean anyway? Really. Who wants to put their bare feet down in sand they can’t see. Sand filled with God only knows what. Used hypodermic needles. Pinchy crabs. Snappy lobsters. Sea lice. Sea cucumbers. Sea horses. Whale shit. Narwhal boogers. Seal urine. Chopped up pieces of mobsters who turned stool pigeon. The ocean is one giant, disgusting shit stew and you don’t want to be one of those morons who jumps into it, trust me.
Nothing good ever happened at the beach and nothing ever will.
#2 – Having An Itchy Butt Hole
You ever get a real deep itch, about twenty thousand leagues below the surface of your butt crack? Damn, those itches get in there deep. And let’s face it. There’s no way to get rid of it other than to take out your pointer finger and point it straight up the deepest, darkest part of your nether regions.
The thing I want to know is why is it not socially acceptable to do this in public? I mean, seriously people, it’s 2017 for crying out loud. Itches are a normal bodily function and a man ought to be able to scratch himself wherever, and whenever, the mood to scratch strikes.
By the way, I’m no sexist. Women ought to be allowed to scratch their lady business whenever and wherever they want too. That’s right. Your old Uncle Hardass is a virtual Gloria Steinem.
#3 – Defective Pistachios
Kids, I love a good bag of pistachios. They’re the best food because you work up a sweat eating them, what with having to break them open and throw away the shells and all. But I hate it when I get a shell that won’t open. Sometimes the shell completely covers the pistachio and there’s no way to open it. Or, sometimes there’s like a little tiny opening but I can’t get in there. (Ahem. That’s what she said. I hear you kids like that joke, so there you go.)
I always collect all of the defective pistachios, put them in a plastic cup, then take them back to the store and demand a refund equal to the amount of pistachios I was not able to eat. I mean, I’m not a greedy son of a bitch. I don’t want the full cost of the bag. I did eat most of them, after all. I just don’t think I should be charged for defective nuts. This isn’t Communist Russia, after all. If people have to keep paying for unbreakable nuts then it’s like we lost the war.
#4 – That I Still Have to Buy Batteries and Keep Them Around
I’m old as shit and even I think this is ridiculous. Why can’t everything, from my TV remote control to that automatic dildo my ex-wife Gertie left behind that I swear I do not use whatsoever, just be plugged into the wall and charged?
Maybe it’s because…
#5 – Charging Cables Are Either Lost or They End Up Tied Up Together Like Spaghetti.
I swear, these technology companies make a mint off the fact that I’m a doddering old bastard who can’t keep track of his charging cords, so I have to constantly buy new ones. Plus, if I throw them in a drawer in an effort to keep them safe, they end up looking as if a bunch of gnomes snuck into the drawer and tied them all together. “WTF?” as the whippersnappers say.
CONCLUSION
Those are the five complaints on my mind lately, 3.5 dummies. If you have anything that frosts your ass, leave it in the comments, or better yet, get a job and stop sponging off the system, you lousy layabouts.
Top Ten Warning Signs Your Boyfriend Might Be a Mime
Ah, mimery. Truly, the worst of all art forms, ranking even lower than bedazzling.
What is a mime anyway? A mime is a French clown except without the horn to honk, or the balloon animals or the big red nose. He’s just quiet and just pretends to do whatever he is doing rather than actually do it, kind of like how I pretend to write a professional blog.
Could you be dating a mime? From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Boyfriend Might Be a Mime:
#10 – Wins all fights by pretending to be trapped inside an invisible box. If you demand that he comes out to face you, he just pounds on the air as if it is a barrier. If you yell at him, he just points to his ear and acts confused, like he can’t hear you.
#9 – Plays on your sympathies by putting his hands up to his eyes and pretending like he’s crying.
#8 – So much white pancake makeup left on the pillow.
#7 – Draws happy and/or sad faces over his face to reflect his mood.
#6 – Broke character once and said something. Report him to the International Association of Mime Standards.
#5 – You think he goes to work everyday, but he just stands in the middle of the living room, pretending to bang an invisible nail into an invisible board with an invisible hammer.
#4 – He got in a fight with invisible muggers once. He tried to protect himself. He pretended to put up his dukes, but ended up getting his ass kicked by an invisible foot.
#3 – He’s cheap to feed. He just sits at the table and pretends to eat an invisible meal with invisible cutlery.
#2 – Acts surprised over everything, usually by opening his eyes and mouth wide.
#1 – You came home early one day and caught him in bed humping the air. You are now baffled. I mean, he was humping the air, so there was nothing there, but then again, if he is a mime, and he was pretending to hump an invisible woman, then he was totally cheating on you. Mimes are such jerks.
Game of Thrones Won’t Be Back Until July!
This is an outrage, 3.5 readers. I’ve become so used to watching the pornographic Lord of the Rings fantasy hour every April-May for years now and now they have the audacity to make me wait until July.
What say you, 3.5? My official reaction:
Zom Fu – Chapter 49
The remaining members of the Clan of the Sacred Yet Inscrutable Tiger Claw, accompanied by their new friends in the Clan of the Mediocre Yet Effective Club Bonk, approached outer wall of the forbidden city. Motionless bodies, both human and zombie, littered the ground.
“We are too late,” a dejected Junjie said.
“I just hope all the good stuff hasn’t been pinched yet,” the Whirlwind said. When Niu threw his student icy glare, the Whirlwind added, “Oh and the Emperor. I am powerfully worried about his safety and well-being, that’s for sure.”
“We should have come sooner,” Junjie said.
“Then you would have died sooner,” the Master replied.
The gate had been smashed into rubble. Niu stepped over the pieces and into the city, where he saw countless throngs of undead warriors feasting on human remains.
“Brothers,” Niu said. “It seems that fate has not spared us a fight.”
A member of the Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite looked up from a femur bone he was chewing on and snarled at Niu. “Ergh!”
The Whirlwind pulled out his club and joined Niu. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind about club fu when you see it in action.”
“That will never happen,” Niu replied. “Let it go.”
Junjie set his hands ablaze. One by one, the beasts stood up. They marched slowly towards the intruders.
“At least a hundred,” Junjie said.
“There’s more than that,” Niu said.
“No,” Junjie said with a grin. “I’m going to take out at least a hundred all by myself. How many will you get, brother?”
The master shook his head. “It is good to see your confidence is growing, my son, but don’t get cocky.”
Junjie tossed a barrage of fireballs at his incoming foes.
“Showoff,” the master said.
Toilet Gator – Chapter 4
“Unggggghhh…”
Chad moaned and groaned as Britney and Paul rolled him over.
“Do you feel any better?” Britney asked.
Chad responded with a deep, baritone belch. “BRAAAAP!”
The music had been cut. No one was dancing anymore. Everyone stood around, staring at the scene that was unfolding before their eyes.
Paul locked his arms underneath Chad’s armpits and helped his pal stand up. “Come on, man. You gotta walk it off.”
Beads of sweat dripped from Chad’s forehead. He looked dizzy. His knees wobbled. It became clear Paul wouldn’t be able to hold the patient by himself, so Britney inserted herself underneath Chad’s right arm, while Paul took the left.
“I love you guys so much,” Chad said in the midst of a stupor. “Really. I don’t say that enough.”
Paul patted Chad on the back. “I love you too, buddy.”
Chad looked to Britney, eagerly waiting for a response.
“Only as friends,” Britney said.
“Aww,” Chad lamented.
“We’re never getting back together, Chad,” Britney said.
“Aww, but baby…”
Chad’s protestations were interrupted by a loud stomach gurgle, followed by an unceremonious hurl all over the dance floor.
“Oh God,” Chad said as he came up for air and wiped chunks of his lunch off of his mouth with his shirt sleeve. “Guess there was an aftershock.”
“Come on,” Britney said. “We need to get you to a…”
Almost as if on cue, a foghorn style gas explosion bursted out of Chad’s rear end. The smell was followed by a terrible sight. Britney’s jaw dropped as she noticed the backside Chad’s once pristine blue jeans had turned a disgusting shade of brown.
“…bathroom!” Britney shouted.
Chad went delirious. His head slumped to one side. He could barely keep his eyes open. “Chaddy wants sleepy.”
“No,” Britney said as she and Paul maneuvered Chad through the packed frat house. “No sleepy for Chad now.”
“Move it!” Chad shouted. “Out of the way, people! We’ve got a sick man, here!”
As the trio approached the bathroom, they found a long line that was at least twenty five people deep.
“Outta the way!” Paul shouted.
A horrendously dressed hipster, complete with an obnoxious fedora, sweater vest, dirt beard and Buddy Holly glasses stood at the back of the line. He flipped when he saw Chad being hurried past everyone who was waiting.
“Hey!” the hipster shouted as he pulled a pair of earbuds out of his ear. “You can’t just cut everyone!”
“Back off, you Justin Timberlake wannabe bitch!” Britney shouted.
“No!” the hipster cried. “I’ve been standing in this line for an hour!”
“Look,” Paul said. “I’ve got a dude that’s blowing up here. Just shut up and listen to your boy band.”
The hipster pushed the pause button on his phone’s music player. “It’s post developmental fifth wave funk with just a dab of East European experimental tribal ska, I’ll have you know.”
Chad burped and farted at the same time. “The Spazenbrau wants out!” Chad shouted. “Oh for the love of God and all things holy, the Spazenbrau wants out!”
“Mother of God!” Paul cried. “It’s coming out of both ends!”
“Why is this line so long?” Britney asked.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but I totes heard a rumor that Jeff Bixby is totally finger banging Sarah Leominster in there,” the hipster said.
Britney rolled her eyes. “Come on. We need to find another bathroom.”
“Hey man,” Paul said to the hipster. “Do you know where the nearest bathroom is?”
The hipster pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger. “I do know of many other bathrooms, but I doubt you have ever heard of them.”
“BLEAAAAHHH!” Chad projectile vomited all over the hipster’s face, coating the ultra trendy weirdo with a heaping helping of sticky goo.
The trio took off, but a Goth girl all in black stopped by to offer the hipster a napkin.
“Thanks,” the hipster said as he wiped off his glasses.
“No problem,” the Goth girl replied. “Looks like you got blasted pretty good there.”
“Yeah,” the hipster said. “Say, do you want to get a locally sourced, gluten free, artisanal vegan scone at a co-op owned cafe sometime?”
“I would,” the Goth girl said. “But I am already promised to Azaglotz, Dark Lord of the Sadistic Realm.”
The hipster popped in his ear buds and unpaused his music. “Damn it. The hot ones are always taken.”
Three Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays
Welcome back to Toilet Gator Sundays, truly the best feature of any blog out there. Does the Huffington Post have Toilet Gator Sundays? I think not.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is 20
Hey 3.5 readers.
Did you know that the series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer turns 20 this year? That’s right. Two decades ago this month, it began on the now kaput WB network.
What is your favorite Buffy moment? Your favorite Buffy episode?
For me, the three most memorable:
- The one where they are silent the entire episode.
- The musical where they sing for the entire episode.
- The one that is sort of a parody of the show where they focus entirely on a subplot where Xander saves the day on his own while Buffy and the gang are busy working on something else.
In this world of reboots, remakes and sequels, I wonder if it isn’t time for a Buffy sequel film? The main cast members are all around late thirties to early forties, still photogenic after all these years.
Then again, the ending did tie up the series nicely so it is always problematic when a good ending is tinkered with.
I don’t think a reboot with a new actress playing Buffy would work. We know this because there was an actual Buffy movie earlier in the 1990s that flopped, though it gained a following in light of the Buffy series.
This was an example of a good cast coming together with good writers to capture lightning in a bottle. Sometimes you can have great writing but a lousy cast. Sometimes a great cast but lousy writing. Here, you had both.
Happy birthday, Buffster. Go celebrate at the Bronze.
Bookshelf Battle 