Daily Archives: May 20, 2017

Toilet Gator – Chapter 55

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The Mayor stormed through the police station, flanked by Sheriff Hammond on his left and a sleazy looking lawyer in an off the rack suit on his right.

“Walker, you horse’s ass!” the Mayor shouted. “Where’s my boy?”

Cole stepped out of the break room with Rusty in tow. “There a problem?”

The Mayor looked at his associates and laughed. “’Is there a problem?’ Son, is the pop of Catholic? Does a frog bump his ass on the ground every time he hops? You better believe there’s a big problem.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sheriff Hammond said. “I always knew the situation between you and the Mayor was tense, Cole, but I never dreamed you’d be so unprofessional as to use your office to harass the son of a dedicated public servant.”

Cole sipped his coffee. “I didn’t harass the son of a just public servant,” the chief said as he pointed at the Mayor. “Just the son of that useless old drunk pile of shit over there.”

The Mayor was outraged. He turned to his lawer. “Sic em!”

The Mayor’s lawyer was a tall man with a bad rug on his head. He handed the Chief a piece of paper. “Chief Walker, I’m Max Weintraub of the Law Firm of Weintraub, Weintraub, Weintraub and LeFoy and this is a court order demanding the release of Buford Dufresne at once. You have no reason to detain this man.”

“Never was detaining him,” Cole said. “He was always free to go.”

“Oh, no,” Weintraub said. “Don’t think for one second you’re going to be able to fool me with that nonsense.”

“Say,” Rusty said. “Aren’t you that fella on TV with that commercial where you tell people you can get them big bags of cash?”

“No,” Weintraub said. “You’re thinking of my brother, Weintraub.”

“That’s not you?” Rusty asked.

“No,” Weintraub said. “I’m a different Weintraub.”

Sharon, Gordon and Buford emerged from Cole’s office. Buford ran like a little boy to his father.

“Daddy!” Buford shouted.

“Son!” the Mayor replied.

Father and son shared an embrace before the Mayor returned to his old tricks.

“What’s wrong with you people?” the Mayor asked Sharon. “Don’t the Feds got nothing better to do than harass pillars of the community like my boy here?”

“Mr. Mayor,” Sharon said. “We believe Buford is holding out on information that could help us find whoever killed your…I’m sorry, was Roxy your ex-wife?”

“No,” the Mayor said. “She was just a stripper at Big Ray-Ray’s House of Fancy Fun Bags back in 1989 when I strolled in, wearing a spiffy suit with big fake shoulder pads. Some random hair band music was playing and Roxy, why, she gave me the best time of my life for the low, low price of five dollars.”

“Five dollars?” Sharon asked.

“It was the eighties, darlin,’” the Mayor said. “You cold buy a damn house for five dollars. Anyway, we had our fun and nine months later, well…”

The Mayor reached up and put his hands over Buford’s ears. “We never had the heart to tell Buford he was an accident baby.”

“My Momma and Daddy were in love!” Buford shouted as the Mayor removed his hands from the boy’s ears.

“Well,” Sharon said. “Regardless of the relationship, don’t you want to see whoever killed your son’s mother brought to justice?”

“Indeed I do,” the Mayor said. “That’s why I’m gonna offer a big time cash reward for information leading to the Toilet Killer’s capture.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you maybe talking to your son and getting him to tell us what he knows,” Sharon said.

“Are you kidding me?” the Mayor said. “Lady, the boy doesn’t know shit! Look at him. He’s like a giant fuckin’ man baby. He’s one step away from me having to change his diapers for him. I know what this is all really about.”

“And what is this about?” Sharon asked.

“You,” the Mayor said before he pointed to Cole, “And him used to be hitched until you left him on account of his diminutive penis.”

“I should get my own lawyer and sue you for slander,” Cole said.

“The truth is always a defense to slander, Chief,” Weintraub said. “You sue my client for his statement about your penis and I’ll be left with no choice but to file a demand that you produce your penis in court for a full inspection as to its size and length.”

Cole stepped up to the lawyer and looked him right in the eye. “That’s a challenge I’ll accept any day of the week and twice on Sunday, pal.”

The Mayor threw up his hands. “Look,” he said to his lawyer. “All I know is this police chief has always been after me, threatening me with scurrilous charges because I have been a vocal advocate of transferring Sitwell’s law enforcement needs to the capable hands of Sheriff Hammond here, and now he’s in cahoots with the gal he used to give his microscopic pecker to, trying to frame my boy to get back at me.”

“That’s absurd,” Sharon said.

“It is,” Cole said. “And if you’d just stop drinking and driving, I’d stop pulling you over, Beau.”

“That’s an outrage, sir,” Weintraub said. “One more crack like that and I’ll have a judge put a gag order on you.”

“Good,” Cole said. “Maybe I’ll hire one of the other Weintraubs to defend me.”

“They’re all busy,” Weintraub said as he handed the Chief a business card. “LeFoy’s free though and his rates are very reasonable.”

Cole slapped the business card out of the lawyer’s hand, then looked at the Mayor. “Take your spawn and get outta here!”

Sharon snapped at Cole. “That’s not your call to make.”

“Oh,” Cole said. “Sorry. You want to keep him?”

Sharon shook her head as she looked at the Mayor. “No. Take your spawn and get out of here.”

“You haven’t heard the last of this!” the Mayor shouted. “Sitwell PD is done! All of this, gone! Enjoy the unemployment line, Cole!”

Cole sipped his coffee and watched as the trio leave.

“Might as well cut that little turd loose too,” Cole said as he pointed at Paul, who was still sitting by a random desk. “I don’t think he knows anything.”

“Fine,” Sharon said. “But Cole, does the Mayor really have that kind of juice, enough to…get rid of you?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Cole said. “Sitwell’s changed a lot since you left. All power in these parts runs through, up, and out of that asshole’s asshole.”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 54

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Cole and Rusty had reconvened near the department’s coffee pot, each sipping from a mug.

“The dude was naked?” Rusty asked.

“As the day he was born,” Cole answered.

“And she was in a bathrobe?” Rusty asked.

“Yup,” Cole said.

“Wet hair?” Rusty asked. “Like she’d just been in the shower?”

“Yup,” Cole replied.

“And she was coming back to the room with a bucket of ice and a bottle of wine?” Rusty asked.

“Affirmative,” Cole said.

“That’s the most white trash thing I’ve ever heard of,” Rusty said. “Who puts ice cubes in wine?”

“I don’t know, Rusty,” Cole said. “Maybe the ice bucket was just to chill it.”

“And she got it for him,” Rusty said.

“What?” Cole asked.

“Well,” Rusty said. “Usually it’s the man doing romantic gestures, like going out to get a bottle of wine. But here, you got the woman doing it, so clearly she’s smitten.”

“Smitten?” Cole asked.

Rusty sipped his coffee. “Sharon ever bring you a bottle of wine?”

Cole sighed. “I can’t say that she has.”

“Didn’t think so,” Rusty said. “And I’m sorry to say this but given the circumstances you’ve laid out for me, I can come to no other conclusion than that your ex-wife and that big beast of a man are…”

“Don’t say it,” Cole said.

“…fucking,” Rusty said.

“I asked you not to say it,” Cole said.

Rusty ignored his friend’s plea and carried on. “Deep, down and dirty, hardcore, X-rated fucking.”

“Stop,” Cole said.

“Worse,” Rusty said. “This man has turned your ex into a slave…a slave for his gargantuan dong.”

“It was massive,” Cole said.

“Women pretend like size doesn’t matter but it matters, Cole,” Rusty said. “It totally matters. When a woman is with a man who has been blessed with a King Kong dong, all their talk about feminism and women’s rights goes out the window and they become a slave to the dong, doing all sorts of crazy things, like going out in a bathrobe in the middle of the night in search of alcohol to appease her well endowed master.”

“It was a mistake for me to go over there in the first place,” Cole said.

“Damn right,” Rusty said.

“You’re the one who told me to go over there,” Cole said.

“Did I?” Rusty asked. “Don’t listen to me, man. I say all kinds of shit.”

Maude stepped into the break room and set her oxygen tank down on the counter. She then poured herself a mug of coffee.

“What’s everyone talking about?” Maude asked.

“Nothing,” Cole said.

“Sharon’s getting straight up plowed by her partner,” Rusty said.

“Shut up,” Cole said.

“Dude’s got a damn boa constrictor in his pants,” Rusty said.

“Is that right?” Maude asked as she let a cigarette.

“I don’t see any need for this conversation to continue,” Cole said.

“It’s huge,” Rusty said. “Cole walked in on them while he was banging her into next week.”

“That’s…” Cole struggled to avoid an urge to slap Rusty. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m telling the story better than you told the story so I can keep Maude’s interest,” Rusty said.

“I’m not that interested,” Maude said.

“Aw come on, Maude,” Rusty said. “You’re a woman.”

“Last time I checked,” Maude said.

“Tell Cole to give up and move on already,” Rusty said. “Sharon’s got a damn bratwurst and there’s no way she’ll ever go back to a cocktail weenie.”

Rusty looked at Cole’s face. Suddenly, he knew he’d gone a step too far. “I’m not knocking cocktail weenies. I got one. You got one. Most men are average it’s just…men who are above average live lives of rarified air and when a woman gets a hold of a big ole’ baloney pony she’s never going to let it go, right Maude?”

Maude shrugged her shoulders. “I dumped a man with a big one for my Arnold.”

“What?” Rusty asked.

“It’s true,” Maude said. “When I was a girl…”

“…back when the world was young and dinosaurs roamed the earth,” Rusty added.

“You want the story or not?” Maude asked.

“Sorry,” Rusty said.

“When I was young,” Maude said. “I dated a man who was in a motorcycle gang and this fella was packing a unit that could have served as his very own kickstand.”

“Goddamn,” Rusty said.

“I don’t need to hear this,” Cole said.

“And sure, that life was fun for a young girl,” Maude said. “Drugs and danger and all that but you know what? Larry was a real asshole. Constantly cheated on me and took me for granted. The last straw came when I caught him in a truck stop bathroom with another girl. I walked right out of there and was fuming mad but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a ride home so I…”

“Called upon your pet brontosaurus to whisk you away,” Rusty said.

Maude clutched her cigarette between her thumb and pointer finger. “I will put this out in your eye.”

“Understood,” Rusty said.

“I met Arnold,” Maude said. “He was a long haul trucker who had stopped for gas. Such a nice, sweet man. I gave him my number and he courted me proper. We went on all sorts of dates. He brought me flowers and the whole bit. And even though he had a small one, I told him I loved him every day until the day he died and I still do today every morning before I get out of bed. I just wish he were there to hear it. Ehh, maybe he still does somehow.”

“How small are we talking about?” Rusty asked.

“Oh,” Maude said. “Way, way below average. Looked like a button that got lost in a pile of wheat grass.”

Rusty chuckled.

“It was like a little mouse that was afraid to peek out of his hole,” Maude said. “But the moral of the story is, yes, women do love big ones, but any woman with half a brain isn’t going to put up with a bunch of bullshit to hang onto one…and she’ll even deal with a small one if its owner is a good egg.”

“I don’t have a small one,” Cole said.

“Whoa,” Maude said as she puffed on her cigarette. “That information is between you, God, and the millions of people who watch Network News One.”

“You get the point, Cole?” Rusty said. “You might still have a shot with Sharon if her partner ends up being an asshole.”

“Ugh,” Maude said.

“What?” Cole asked.

“Nothing,” Maude said.

“No, what?” Cole asked.

A thick trail of ash plopped into Maude’s coffee. That did not stop her from taking a long, vigorous sip. “None of my business, but if you go back to her after what she did to you, I’m going to call you a pussy.”

“That’s what I said,” Rusty said.

“Well,” Maude said as she exited the break room with her tank in one hand and cup in the other, “Even a broken clock is right twice a day, Prince Harry.”

Rusty and Cole stood there in awkward silence for a moment.

“You think she noticed her ash fell into her coffee?” Rusty asked.

“I don’t think she gives a shit,” Cole replied.

The duo stood and enjoyed their coffee for another minute before the loud, obnoxious ravings of the esteemed Mayor of Sitwell echoed through the station. “Cole Walker! Where the hell are you?!”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 53

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While Paul stewed in silence, Sharon was once again sitting in Cole’s office, behind his desk. Gordon stood off to the right, while Buford was seated across the desk.

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “My name is Agent Sharon Walker. This is my partner, Gordon Bishop. We’re with the FBI, investigating a high profile case in the area. Perhaps you’ve heard of it as the media has dubbed the perpetrator as, ‘The Toilet Killer.’”

“Helluva thing those toilet killings,” Buford said. “No one should ever have to go while they’re going, if you ask me. You think the Toilet Killer got my Momma?”

“It looks that way,” Sharon said. “And though I’m sure it doesn’t offer you much consolation, I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Buford said. “Momma was a real ornery spitfire, but a sweet old gal. Hell, she kept her prices low just to keep all the local perverts happy.”

Sharon made an odd face. It was a half-smile, half-grimace. She had no clue how to respond to Buford’s statement, so she moved on.

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “Chief Walker has reported to me that when you arrived at your mother’s trailer, you shouted, and I quote, ‘I tried to warn her!’”

“I don’t remember that,” Buford said.

“What were you trying to warn your mother about?” Sharon asked.

“Again,” Buford said. “I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

“Chief Walker stated to me that when he pressed you on this, you said that you had tried to warn your mother about smoking while the pilot light of her stove was on,” Sharon said.

“That’s right,” Buford said.

“So you don’t remember saying you tried to warn her?” Sharon asked.

“Right,” Buford said.

“But you do remember saying that you tried to warn her about smoking?” Sharon asked.

Buford’s face turned red. “Oh Gee Whiz, now you’ve gone and messed with my brain, ma’am.”

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “I suppose what I’m trying to get at here is the issue of whether or not you were trying to warn your mother about something more disturbing than a cigarette…”

“What?” Buford asked. “Like one of those computerized vape-o-majigs? Momma didn’t like those, no ma’am. She tried one once and said it felt like she was giving a blowjob to the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.”

Sharon smiled. “Your mother sounds like she was a real character.”

“Oh yes, ma’am,” Buford said.

“Were you two close?” Sharon asked.

“Sure,” Buford said.

“Did you approve of your mother’s profession?” Sharon asked.

“You mean stripping and prostituting?” Buford asked. “Wouldn’t say I’d go around bragging about how proud I was of Momma for doing that but hell, it paid the bills and it’s not like she had any kind of an education or skills to fall back on.”

“So the idea of your mother and all those men…”

Gordon cut his partner off. He stepped forward and towered over Buford. “If losers were fucking the woman that gave birth to me for pennies on the dollar, I know it would piss me off.”

“She may have had discount rates but I wouldn’t call it, ‘pennies,’” Buford said.

“Not the point,” Gordon said. “The point is that it must have made you mad, the idea of all those dirty, disgusting men, flopping around like a bunch of diseased, out of water flounders on top of your mother.”

Buford’s upper lip trembled. He gritted his teeth. He began to sweat. He took a deep breath and then calmly answered. “No sir. That was between them and Momma. I could care less.”

Sharon shuffled through a file folder. “Mr. Dufresne, when you arrived on the scene…”

“Ma’am,” Buford said. “You wouldn’t happen to be thinking something crazy like, oh, I dunno, that an angel like little old me had something to do with my own mother’s death, would you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sharon said.

“Y’all seem to be implyin’ it,” Buford said. “I’m in mourning, here.”

“I know,” Sharon said.

“I have lost my dear sweat Momma,” Buford said. “That woman was my rock, my best friend, my whole reason for being.”

“Your whole reason for being?” Sharon asked.

“Shit,” Gordon said. “My condolences.”

“I’m sorry,” Buford said as he stood up. “I can’t think straight what with my Momma gone. I need to go home and lie down.”

Gordon stared Buford down, silently indicating the fact that leaving wasn’t a valid option.

“Y’all can’t keep me here,” Buford said. “I know my rights!”

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “No one has accused you of anything.”

“I have a right to a phone call,” Buford said.

“This is all very unnecessary,” Sharon said. “We’re just trying to establish some facts that will help us find your mother’s killer.”

“I want my phone call,” Buford said. “I want to call my Daddy!”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 52

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Cole sat behind an empty desk on the main floor of the Sitwell Police Department. Rusty stood nearby, while Paul sat in a chair across from Cole. The cops had found an oversized pair of sweatpants and a Sitwell PD sweatshirt for the boy to wear in lieu of his wet clothes. However, the sweats were so big and the boy so small that Paul was swimming in them.

“Wrong place at the wrong time,” Cole said.

“Twice,” Rusty added.

“That’s the story you’re going with?” Cole asked.

“Story?” Paul asked.

Cole clicked the button on his pen and jotted a few notes down on a yellow legal pad. “For the official report. Gotta be thorough.”

“You said you were in the vicinity of the bathroom where Chad Becker was murdered?” Cole asked.

Paul sipped a complimentary soda pop Rusty had brought him in a prior attempt to feign good cop. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“You did,” Cole said. “Best not to change your story now.”

“Again with that word,” Paul said. “‘Story.’”

“Again,” Cole replied as he scribbled down some more notes. “For the official report.”

“I’m the frat’s Beermeister,” Paul said. “That’s the guy in charge of…”

Cole held up his right hand to form a “stop” motion. “I know what a Beermeister is. I went to Sitwell Community College.”

“OK,” Paul continued. “So, Chad got wasted. I helped Britney get him to a bathroom because he was puking and shitting all over the place. The sorority house was the closest place with an unoccupied bathroom. Britney and I got Chad there, got him on the bowl and I stepped outside. Then I heard a godawful noise…”

“What kind of noise?” Cole asked.

“A roar,” Paul said.

“A roar?” Cole asked.

“Like a lion,” Paul said. “I heard it at the trailer tonight too.”
Cole clicked the button on his pen a few times. “You on drugs, Paul?”

“No,” Paul said. “I never touch the stuff sir.”

Cole reviewed his notes. “What were you doing at Roxy’s place?”

“I consider myself to be a good citizen,” Paul said. “I like to help out senior citizens and need, so I was helping her redecorate and…”

“Cut the crap!” Rusty shouted.

“Fine!” Paul said. “I met her at Big Ray-Ray’s and she offered to rock my world for twenty bucks. It seemed like a great deal while I was buzzed but as I sobered up I began questioning my decision and was about to leave when…well, whatever happened, happened.”

Cole twirled his pen between two fingers. “I dunno. Just seems odd.”

“What does?” Paul said.

“That you were on the scene at two of the murders,” Cole said. “You ever been to Miami?”

“Once,” Paul said.

“To a Countess Cucamonga concert, perhaps?” Cole asked.

“No,” Paul said. “I prefer the musical stylings of Stank Daddy.”

“Boca Raton?” Cole asked.

“Good God, no,” Paul answered. “They don’t even let you in Boca Raton unless you’ve got an AARP card.”

Paul looked out the window. It was dawn and the sun was rising. “How long do I have to stay here?”

“Just a few more questions,” Cole said.

“I didn’t do it,” Paul blurted out.

“No one said you did,” Cole said.

“You all seem to think I did it,” Paul said.

“What makes you think that?” Cole said.

“Because you’re asking me questions as if I did it,” Paul said. “Plus that redheaded cop is giving me the crazy eyes.”

“Maybe my eyes aren’t crazy,” Rusty said. “Maybe my eyes are normal and you’re the one with the crazy eyes. Ever think of that, hotshot?”

“Can’t say that I have, Rupert Grint,” Paul replied.

Cole flipped through the pages of his legal pad. “So, answer me this, if you were…”

“I’m done,” Paul said.

“With what?” Cole asked.

“This,” Paul said. “All of this.”

“We’re just asking questions to a witness,” Cole said.

“Don’t you want to help catch the guy that killed your friend and your hooker?” Rusty asked.

“Sure,” Paul said. “But I’m not about to get a bunch of bogus charges pinned on me because you pigs are too lazy to get off your asses and find the killer.”

“Pigs?” Rusty said.

“If the oink fits,” Paul said.

“Paul,” Cole said. “You’re overreacting. Everything’s fine.”

“This isn’t fine,” Paul said. “All cops are corrupt. I know how you all operate. I streamed Serpico.”

“Just a few more questions,” Cole said.

“Nope,” Paul said. “Not another word without my lawyer.”

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Movie Review – Snatched (2017)

Ugh.  Schumie.  The Schumes.  The Schumster.  Get it together.

To quote Jon Lovitz’, “The Critic” of 1990s fame, “It stinks.”

BQB here with a review of Snatched.

Believe it or not, there was a time when I was a fan of Amy Schumer.  Her Comedy Central sketch show, Inside Amy Schumer, was comedy gold, with quotable lines, memorable scenes, and took equal opportunity shots at everyone.

Alas, the Schumer humor did not translate well into movies.  Her first film, Trainwreck, was in my opinion, a literal train wreck, the only saving grace coming from the ancillary characters of the film.  Had it not been for LeBron James, Bill Hader, John Cena and Colin Quinn, I’d of just asked for my money back.

In this, Amy’s second film, the supporting cast once again makes the movie somewhat bearable though again, just somewhat.

Amy, apparently hellbent on proving to the world that she’s a one-trick pony, once again plays the same adult female loser character.  Fired from her job and dumped by her boyfriend just before a long scheduled trip to a resort in Ecuador, Amy, or Emily in this film, convinces her mother, Linda, an overly cautious cat lady, to be her travel companion.

Blah, blah, blah, the ladies are kidnapped and it becomes a madcap romp as they travel through the rainforest on their way to safety.

Along the way, they encounter a cast of characters that keep me from marching into the projectionist’s booth and asking if they can just put on another showing of Guardians of the Galaxy instead.

Wanda Sykes and Joan Cusack play a tourist and her retired special ops Army buddy who come to the rescue.  Their scenes are mildly humorous but they are underutilized.

Ike Barinholtz plays Emily’s shut-in agoraphobic brother, Jeffrey, a man who is too scared to leave the house yet must somehow cut through bureaucratic red tape at the U.S. state department in search of help.  He squares off against consulate officer Morgan Russell (Bashir Salahuddin) in a series of scenes that remind snooty Americans that the world is not like America and they should not expect people to go out of their way to save them if they get themselves mired in some third world deep shit.

Meanwhile, Christopher Meloni plays an incompetent adventurer who at times, seems like he’s the answer to the girls’ problems and at other times, like he might be the one in need of assistance.

You know, 3.5 readers, one of the worst things an entertainer can do is get too political, and I think the Schumes made that mistake in recent years.  She became a media darling.  To the Hollywood press, she could do no wrong and I feel like that may have taken her focus off her number one goal of being a comedian, namely, to be funny and make people laugh.

I laughed one and only one time – at a tapeworm gag that was pure gross out humor, and even then, it was the comedic stylings of the man who played Amy’s doctor that got me.

Amy’s schtick?  “Oh look at me!  I’m a wayward drunk adult who farts and acts like a child!  Vaginas are hilarious!  Oh wait, vaginas are now hilarious in a tropical environment! Tee, hee hee!”

Above all else, the film comes off as somewhat hypocritical in light of Amy’s public activism:

  • She’s against conservative immigration policies, yet portrays South Americans as criminal caricatures who sit around thinking up plots to kidnap people all day.
  • She often laments that men are pigs who only care about women for their looks and aren’t able to see the beauty that dwells deep within an imperfect female form.  Then she goes and casts two boyfriends in this film who are so handsome they look like they were chiseled out of magic clay by Michelangelo himself.
  • She’s pro-gun control, yet the guns are blazing throughout the film.
  • She’s against judging people for their life choices, yet her judgmental, cranky mother is the only voice of reason in the movie and the only one in the movie making the tough decisions necessary to keep the duo from getting killed.

The film isn’t completely without value.  I did connect with the back and forth between Linda and Emily.  As grown adults who still maintain relationships with their elderly parents can attest, parents never stop parenting, even in old age.  Unfortunately, sometimes the criticism that was necessary to steer a child into adulthood can come across as insulting to the adult child.  Elderly parents can’t switch themselves out of parent mode and into friend mode and adult children just see the elderly parents’ criticisms as non-stop accusations of incompetence (which are accurate, in Emily’s case.)

On the flip side, we can also see that elderly parents might sometimes have good reason to be so cranky with their adult children.  Throughout the film, Emily yearns for her mother’s validation and approval and as the viewer you wonder when Linda/Goldie is going to just bitch slap Emily/Amy and yell, “Bitch!  You are a grown ass woman!  Take control of your life because I’m too old and tired to carry you on my back anymore!”

Doesn’t happen.  Should have happened.  Would have made the movie more enjoyable.

The best part of the movie is that this will hopefully lead to a Goldie Hawn renaissance or Goldie-aissance.  Back in the day, the Goldster was the it girl, starring as the lead in many a comedy.  Private Benjamin, Wildcats, Overboard, and Bird on a Wire all come to mind.  (Note to Amy: Goldie managed to make people laugh without talking about her vagina every two seconds.)

Goldie’s may be older, and wiser, and has apparently undergone various surgeries to keep her face from drooping in her old age, but ultimately, she’s still got acting chops and we can only hope that Hollywood will recognize this and put her in some films that don’t suck.  After all, if her longtime beau Kurt Russell can hang with the Guardians of the Galaxy, then surely there are some more roles out there for Goldie.

STATUS:  Bordeline shelf-worthy but only because of the supporting cast.  The Schumes needs to come up with non-vaginal jokes if she’s going to have any long lasting staying power.

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Daily Discussion with BQB – Man Sues Date for Texting During Movie

Hey 3.5 readers.

Please put down all 3.5 of your phones.  No, seriously!  This is a very important post and yes, you!  Even you, .5th reader with your half a phone, stop texting!

Have you ever had a rude date?  Perhaps a date who texted a little too much?

Well, one guy isn’t taking it lying down.  According to CNN (and many other news outlets) a dude by the name of Brandon Vezmar has sued his date for $17.31, claiming that she texted too much on her phone during a showing of Guardians of the Galaxy, thus ruining the experience.

Do have questions?  I do.  Here’s mine:

#1 – Is this real?  Is this some kind of publicity stunt?

#2 – Did he get rejected?  Is this like a dude sticking up for every man who had to shell out money on a date only to get nowhere?  (If so, God bless you sir.  I’ve always felt there should be a law that if a woman rejects you, she should be required to refund all the money you spent on her during any and all dates within 30 days of the rejection or else be sentenced to life in solitary confinement.  Come to think of it, I’m going to start working with President Trump to turn this into a Federal law.)

#3 – Is it me or does $17.31 seem steep for a film?  Was it in IMAX?  Was it for both tickets?  Was popcorn involved?  If it’s for both tickets, is he claiming that her texting ruined even his movie watching experience?  Can he recover the cost of her ticket if she doesn’t feel her texting ruined her movie watching experience?

#4 – Is it rude to text during a date?  I read that the woman claims she was texting a friend who needed her.

#5 – Do you think this guy is a hero to every man who was ever disrespected by a date?  Or, should he have just sucked it up and realized that part of dating means eating the costs of dates that go nowhere?

Discuss, 3.5 readers.

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Conspiracy Corner with Tin Hat Ted – Are You a Lizard Person? Take this Handy Quiz and Find Out!

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By:  Tin Hat Ted, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Conspiracy Theorist

Ahh, the lizard people.  They live among us, you know, biding their time, working their scaly ways into positions of high social standing, waiting for the precise moment to strike and then BAM!  They embrace their true forms and we end up as their slaves.

Fun fact though.  Not every lizard person is aware that he or she is a lizard person.  Some lizard people have been wearing their human skin suits for so long that they went and forgot that they are lizard people, swapping out their fake human identities as their own.

Your neighbor, doctor, lawyer, proctologist, butcher, baker, or candlestick maker might be a dirty, disgusting lizard person!  Maybe your wife, your brother, sister, uncle or dog walker appears human on the outside but on the inside, they’re nothing but no good, dirty rotten, scaly ass sons of bitches.

Even worse….YOU could be a lizard person and not even know it.

But don’t freak out yet.  Take this handy quiz, for it is the only way to know if you’re a true blue human or a lizard person bent on world domination.

#10 – Do you like to eat flies?

Look, I’m not talking about that time you stuck your head out the car window while the car was rolling down the highway to get some fresh air because your cousin in the back seat farted and a bug flew down your throat.

If you gagged on that bug and were disgusted by the experience, good for you.  If you thought, “Hmm, this bug it tasty” then you could be a dirty lizard person.

(By the way, I don’t care how bad that fart was, keep your damn head in the car because sticking it out while the car is moving is a good way to lose your head.  You want your mother to have to go to your funeral and you don’t even have a head anymore?)

Ultimately, one or two bugs in a lifetime is inconclusive.  However, if you find yourself sitting down to a heaping bowl full of flies, bugs, wasps and other assorted insects then yes, you’re a lizard person.

#9 – You Think About Global Domination Twenty Times a Day

Less than twenty times a day?  You’re just an average human politician of any political party.

More than twenty?  Lizard person.

#8 – You Have Red Eyes in All of Your Photos

You definitely want to get your camera checked first but if it’s a finely calibrated machine then yes, it’s going to pick up the redness of your eyes underneath your faux human eyeballs.

#7 – Dogs Don’t Like You

Dogs are friendly as all get out so unless its a dog with a bad attitude, then it’s barking at you because he’s trying to tell all the humans around, “Bark, bark!  That’s a damn lizard person!”

#6 – You Have Detachable Genitalia

Fun fact.  All human suits worn by lizard people come with detachable genitalia.  Lizard people simply detach their fake human dongs and cooters after sex, pop them in the dish washer and presto, change-o!  They’re good as new and fresh as a daisy!

The good news?  Your nether regions are very sanitary.  The bad news?  You’re a lizard person.

#5 –  You’ve Been Receiving Strange Magazines

Suspicious titles (that you don’t remember ordering) include:

  • Lizard People Weekly?
  • Global Domination Times
  • Pretending to Be Human on a Dollar a Day
  • Lizard Fashions
  • Gourmet Bug Cooking

#4 – All of Your Relatives Are Lizard People 

In public, lizard people wear their human skin suits and never tell any humans about their plans for global domination.

In private, lizard people pop those human suits off and let their scaly butts hang out.  If a bunch of lizard people have shown their true forms to you, then I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but you’re one of them and they already know it.

Lizard people wouldn’t trust you with the knowledge that they are lizard people unless you are part of their lizard family.

#3 –  You Can Lick Your Own Eyeballs

Partially disgusting.  Partially awesome.  Ultimately, not normal tongue behavior.

#2 – You Have Strange Thoughts

“I want to conquer the world!”

“All must bow down to me!”

“Bugs are tasty!”

If you’ve ever had any of these thoughts, you’re probably a lizard person.

#1 – That One Time Your Face Fell Off and You Looked In the Mirror and Saw You are a Damn Lizard Person

Truly, the most undeniable evidence.  If your human face fell off and you found yourself staring at a lizard person in the mirror, then there’s no getting around the fact that you are a lizard person.

In Conclusion…

If you suffer from any of the above conditions, then I’m sorry, but you’re a lizard person. Please report to your nearest lizard person detention center immediately.

Do you think you might be a lizard person?  Report yourself in the comments…

 

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