Monthly Archives: August 2017

Why aren’t you guys 7 readers yet?

Seriously, 3.5 readers.  I really thought you all would have doubled in size by now.  Explain yourselves.

Is My Girlfriend a Witch?

First, I’m not asking that about Video Game Rack Fighter.  That woman is a Saint with the face of an angel.  At least I think she is.  She’s been playing Car Thief Mayhem for three weeks straight without a break not even for the bathroom. She just pees in a coffee can.

Second, just pointing out one of the top web searches leading people to this illustrious site is along the lines of “Is my girlfriend a witch?” or “my girlfriend is a witch” or “how to tell if your girlfriend is a witch?”

Listen bros.  I’m not relationship expert, but if you have to ask…

Anyway, in case you missed it, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Witch:

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Witch

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Bitches be green, y’all.

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Auntie Fucking 101

When Jon Snow bangs his Auntie, he gets…

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Meanwhile at BQB HQ…(don’t even think about it, Aunt Gertie.)

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Movie Review – The Hitman’s Bodyguard

So many motherfuckers, so little time.

BQB here with a review of the surprise hit, “The Hitman’s Bodyguard.”

3.5 readers, I literally expected this movie to be a big turd soufflé with extra poop gravy but I was pleasantly surprised to find it was a delicious chocolate cake with delicious vanilla frosting.  Mmm, mmm…boy, that’s good eatin’!

But seriously.  It’s an end of summer movie.  The posters featured Ryan Reynolds carrying Samuel L. Jackson as though Reynolds was Kevin Costner and Jackson was Whitney Houston, i.e. depending on a joke based on a movie from the early 1990s that only decrepit old fucks like me would get.

Yet…it was good.  So good.  It’s funny and not just funny but raucously funny, in a time where the PC police have crawled up Hollywood’s rectum and wiped away anything devoid of humor.

Reynolds is the disgraced bodyguard given a second chance when he’s hired to escort Jackson, a hitman with dirt on a war criminal (Gary Oldham), to the International Court.  Thus, it’s a race across Europe as Reynolds and Jackson become an unlikely Odd Couple, a pair of quasi-buddy cops where Reynolds tries to do things by the book and Jackson just wants to shoot everyone and shout “motherfucker!” in a repeatedly reckless manner.

Salma Hayek steals the show in what is probably the funniest role I’ve seen her in as Jackson’s foul mouthed, ultra-violent wife, a promise from INTERPOL for her freedom from prison being the only thing that’s keeping Jackson from ditching Reynolds and running way.

It’s great.  Lots of laughs and if you’ve read this blog, I never let a comedy get a good review from me if it didn’t make me laugh.  It did.  Plus, a lot of action.  It’s a surprisingly long film, but the action never stops and in a summer where the box office fizzled, it is probably the best action movie I’ve seen this year.

STATUS:  Shelf-worthy, motherfucker.

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Game of Thrones Recap – Episode 7, Season 7 – The Dragon and the Wolf

I’m so sad, 3.5 readers.

One of my favorite shows will soon come to an end…next summer…because they’re making us all wait.

I have to say I have been long waiting for the big, final battle over King’s Landing between the Lannisters and the Khaleesi.  I always assumed that would come first and then the winner would face the White Walkers.

Not so fast as there was a truce.  The Dragon Queen and the Bitchy Queen will hold onto their menstruations for now in order to face the greater white walker threat.

Not exactly the outcome I was hoping for, but perhaps it will pay off in the next season.

I feel a little cheated that these seasons are shorter, but I’ll wait and see.  Perhaps the showrunners know what they are doing.

For a moment, it was looking like there would be a sad showdown between Sansa and Arya, only to see them turn on Littlefinger.  Unlike the Internet, I was sad to see Littlefinger go.  All of the other characters were born into their wealth and prestige.  Littlefinger actually had to work for it.  Sure, he was a douche, but when you only have yourself to rely on, you have to be that much douchier.

During the truce scene, I kept waiting for Cersei to spring a trap.  Maybe all her guests would be killed ala the Red Wedding but nope, no cigar.

The big secret of the show is revealed.  Jon Snow is not a bastard.  He is the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyana Stark.  That means as the oldest male Targaryen he is the rightful ruler of Westeros and oh yeah, since he didn’t know and boned the Khaleesi, he is now an Auntie fucker.

Oh well.  The Targaryens keep it in the family.

Wasn’t it sad to see the Wall go?  It’s been a menacing presence for years only for a damn fire breathing zombie dragon to make short work of it.

What’s next, 3.5 readers?

 

 

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How Game of Thrones is Like Life

What a long, strange trip it’s been, 3.5 readers.

I was in my early 30s when this show began.  I didn’t feel happy about my life at the time but looking back on it, I realize I should have.  I guess that’s the thing about getting older – we only realize how good we used to have it when time goes by and things get worse and believe me, they can always get worse.

Still, there was a difference in my early 30s.  I was unhappy that I’d gotten older, yet there seemed like there was enough time left to pull a happy life off – find a good job, lose weight conquer some of my health issues, meet a girl and start a family.

 

In the back of my mind I knew that age 40 was coming for me, slowly trudging my way like a white walker and just like a snow zombie, age 40 could not be bargained or reasoned with, could not be destroyed, it was coming and so I’d better deal with it.  (I’m about a year and a few months from it eating my brains now.)

In other words, I suppose I would fit in as one of the characters on Game of Thrones.  For seven years, the main characters have been aware that the Khaleesi, Queen of Dragons, was on her way to cross the Narrow Sea and toast everyone to a crispy, golden brown.  As it turns out, she’s too nice to do that but they didn’t know that…and we aren’t entirely sure she won’t yet.  The Khaleesi is trying to be kind and loving but she definitely has a switch that can be flipped that can make her want to cook you with the help of her big ass reptiles.

By the way, aren’t all the dragon action scenes great?  We’ve been waiting a long time for them.

Anyway, like me ignoring the coming of age 40 and failing to get my life in order, the characters all fought over the Iron Throne.  King Robert’s brother Stannis and Renley fought each other for it.  Robb Stark didn’t want it but just wanted to bring his army to King’s Landing to make the Lannisters pay for killing his father, Ned.  Those damn Greyjoys took advantage of the chaos to do some looting and pillaging.  The Boltons got in on the mix.  Honestly, I lose track of how many people wanted that throne.  It was a lot.

But that was the point of the show.  All the characters have known that a Khaleesi was coming but…she was so far away…and there were more pressing matters in front of them.

A smaller handful of characters also knew the white walkers were coming.  They tried harder to warn people but no one would listen.  There’s the rub, I suppose.  If you actually see or experience a threat, you’re more likely to try to do something about it.

I’ve always seen the show as an allegory for America.  We Americans spend so much time fighting each other over our differences – party lines, racial lines, class lines – we don’t stop to think about what we have in common, or to realize that the only thing we have to stop the outside forces who’d like to see this country burn from getting their way is each other.

The warring families could have set aside their differences and been in a better position to stop the Khaleesi from bringing her dragons to cook everyone up.  Alas, they killed each other, decimated the country’s resources and now it’s easy pickens for the Mother of Dragons.

Had they not fought each other, they could have been in a better position to stop the white walkers.  Now it may be too late.

Now as I get older, I see the show as an allegory for life.  This past decade has moved so quickly and at the time, I felt out of control, powerless to fix things.  I knew in the back of my mind that a myriad of health problems would be coming if I didn’t lose weight, that financial problems would come if I didn’t find a better job, that sadness would come if I didn’t find a girl.

Sad to say that by the end of season 7, I’ve only accomplished 1 out of 3.  The good job was found and the financial problems are over, so I don’t have to worry about a looming white walker in the form of financial ruin…but…I still have to worry about a white walker in the form of a heart attack if I don’t lose weight…or a fat ass fire breathing dragon in the form of permanent bachelorhood/inability to father children due to old age.

And I guess that’s the moral of the story.  We focus on the problems right in front of our faces.  It’s too easy to delay the long term problems.  “We’ll worry about the fat ass dragon or the evil white walkers when and/or if they get here” we say, rather than take the daily steps that, when done with regularity, build up over time and help us stave off the impending doom.

In short, I could have lost weight low these past seven years.  That would have made me a healthier man today and would have made it easier to find a girl (wait I have VGRF but maybe this is the Alleged Man’s brain bleeding through), but I didn’t.  Now I fear I may be too late and I might get bitten by the white walker of poor health or be eaten by the dragon of loneliness.

I worry it may be too late for me, 3.5 readers.  However, if you are young, take the warning that this show provides and run with it.

In your life, you have your own personal white walker or perhaps, your own personal dragon.  Maybe it’s money, or romance, or employment or health or addiction or what have you.

Whatever it is, know in the back of your mind that your white walker of a problem is slowly trudging its way down from the North, ready to eat your brains.  Will you assemble an army within yourself to fight it and keep it at bay, or will you wake up one day and find a big chomp has been taken out of your brain and now it is too late?

You know that your Khaleesi of a problem is heading East.  Slowly but surely, she’s kicking ass and taking names, growing her numbers and feeding her dragons so they get big and strong, the bigger and stronger to fricassee your oily hide.  You’re placating yourself, telling yourself that you are young and have plenty of time before that problem becomes a reality.  You’re also fooling yourself.  Will you, again, assemble a personal army inside yourself to fight the dragons, or will you wake up one day and find yourself a charcoal briquette?

I can tell you seven years ago, when this show first began, I knew that if I didn’t get a better job, that if I didn’t lose weight and didn’t find a woman, I’d essentially end up approaching forty, feeling like a white walker had eaten my brain or a dragon had burnt me up.

Now I feel that way.  Sure, I conquered the financial dragon.  I kicked the financial white walker in the gonads.  But I ignored the health dragon/white walker and the romance dragon/white walker and now I’m about to be fried and eaten.

Then again, I suppose it’s never really over until a white walker is actually chowing down on your brains or until a dragon has toasted you, so…I guess I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off and give it another try.

You should too, 3.5 readers.  Feel free to tell me in the comments what you are going to do to keep your personal white walkers from eating your brains or your personal dragon from roasting you and chomping you up like a chicken nugget.

Remember, “Winter is coming.”  That’s been the slogan of the show for seven years.  Our own personal winters are coming – be they in the form of a heart attack because we didn’t eat better, or cancer because we didn’t take care of ourselves, or yuck, being that fifty year old in “da club” still trying to score a date because he didn’t pick someone and try to make the best of it when he was younger.  Sure, Winter seems a long way away but it will be here soon enough and it will bring zombies…and dragons and apparently, a freaking zombie ass dragon.

What will you do to stave off your personal winter, 3.5 readers?

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Movie Review – Wind River (2017)

So much snow.  So much ennui.

BQB here with a review of “Wind River.”

When a young woman’s body is discovered on Native American reservation land, it’s up to an unlikely trio to solve the mystery.  Said trio consists of Corey Lambert (Jeremy Renner), a mountain lion hunter for the U.S. Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, super hot rookie agent out of her depth Jane Banner (Elizabeth Olsen), and grumpy old tribal police chief Ben (Graham Greene) to solve the mystery.

Those who have never been there (myself included) might thing of life in Wyoming as clean, country living – wide open spaces

When a young woman’s body is discovered on Native American reservation land, it’s up to an unlikely trio to solve the mystery.  Said trio consists of Corey Lambert (Jeremy Renner), a mountain lion hunter for the U.S. Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, super hot rookie agent out of her depth Jane Banner (Elizabeth Olsen), and grumpy old tribal police chief Ben (Graham Greene) to solve the mystery.

Those who have never been there (myself included) might thing of life in Wyoming as clean, country living – wide open spaces devoid of harsh urban crime.  Think again because apparently, according to whoever wrote this film, it really sucks to live in Wyoming.  It sucks real bad.

It sucks even worse to live on a Native American reservation.  The film gives us a look into the challenges of reservation life – the land is cold, unforgiving, undeveloped and there isn’t much to do there.  Native American parents have to deal with their dumb kids wearing backwards hats, taking drugs and blaring their rap music as they rebel against their humdrum lives so yeah, pretty much what happens in any family with teenagers. with the exception that opportunities for the natives to rise above it, make money and become successful are few and far between.

Crime exists and worse, there are few resources to deal with it.  As stated in the film, the reservation is the size of Rhode Island yet the tribal police department only has six officers.  The Federal government of yesteryear pushed the natives here but the Federal government of today isn’t doing much to help them.

Oh and because the terrain is so harsh and undeveloped, it often takes a fifty mile drive or a long trek on a snowmobile to get to a point that is only five miles away.

Further, as the film points out, Native American women often go missing and because statistics are not kept, it is difficult to determine how or why this happens.  Alas, perverts and creeps abound and due to the wide open spaces and little law enforcement to patrol such vast lands, it is easy for a pervert and/or creep to engage in perverted, creepy activities, preying upon the innocent with reckless abandon.

So yeah, if anyone in charge happens to catch this movie, the good people of Wyoming, especially the native people, need some assistance.

Renner and Olsen get to exercise their acting chops.  Fun fact, this isn’t the first time these two have worked together.  It’s just the first time they have worked together while not wearing tights.  That’s right.  In the Avengers films, Olsen is Scarlett Witch and Renner is Hawkeye.

While their comic book alter egos are fun, Renner and Olsen get real here.  Olsen is super hot and boner inducing, not to mention a young woman who appears to be full of hope about life.  She’s green, not having been with the FBI long and it’s up to Lambert and Ben to educate her as to what life is like in a corner of the world where life is a daily, seemingly insurmountable struggle.

Renner is his usual grumpy, stoic self, though that works here as a typical cowboy/hunter.  His character, Lambert, suffers from his own past demons and sees this case as a path toward redemption.  Further, since he is not a cop, he has the ability to act outside the law, which at times, puts him at odds with Banner.

At any rate, it’s a film that isn’t getting a lot of heat but it deserves some.  Overall, it’s a good mystery and while there are times when it is slow, the ending, which I won’t give away, will make your butt pucker.  Did I ruin it by saying that the ending will make your butt pucker?  Hmm, I probably did because now you will be expecting it.  Oh well.  Forget I said anything.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy.

 

 

 

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Toilet Gator Second Draft Production Begins

3.5 readers, I am so excited to tell you that I have begun the long, hard slog toward finishing a second draft of my beloved novel, “Toilet Gator,” which really and truly is the best novel ever written about toilets, gators, or toilet gators.

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My goodness, 3.5 readers.  Isn’t that a wonderful cover?  Anyway, this is the first time I have begun a second novel draft.  It seems like it will be a long, arduous process.  The novel is approximately 140,000 words and so far I have rewritten 7,000 of them.  It is nice to be able to start solving problems I saw as I wrote the first draft but felt it would just slow me down to fix them, so now the time to fix them has come.

I hope when this book comes out, you will all support it and tell your friends, because if Toilet Gator is a success, then I can really bank some cash on the sequel, Son of Toilet Gator:

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You don’t even want to see what the cover of Book 3 will look like.

3.5 readers, I’ll be honest.  I’m no spring chicken and the older I get, the more I just want to stop and smell the daisies, then lie down in the dirt and wawit for the moss to grow over me.

So, if this blog makes you happy, and you think that being able to read wonderful books like Toilet Gator and Son of Toilet Gator would bring joy to your life, then please, do what you can to support my little enterprise here.

Read this fine blog.  Tell your friends.  Help get me some traffic.  If I can make money off this, then I can put more time into entertaining you, my beloved 3.5 readers, who I would never want to see be eaten by a toilet gator.

Do watch out for toilet gators, 3.5 readers.  They’re everywhere and in greater numbers than you’d think.  Frankly, I have taken my life into my hands by publishing their secret, so much so that I get scared every time I sit on the throne to poop now, and not just because I’m a burrito fan.

Stay tuned, 3.5 readers.

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BQB Rants #1 – Reporters During Storms

I really hate the media.

Sure, you might say, “But BQB, hate is a strong word.”  To that, I’d say, “Yes, but I’m using the word ‘hate’ just as you might say, ‘I hate licorice flavored jelly beans.”  I mean, I hate licorice flavored jelly beans, but not so much that I’d want to purge all licorice flavored jelly beans from the face of the Earth.  I realize other people like licorice flavored jelly beans and the world doesn’t revolve around me.  Hell, once in a blue moon I might eat a licorice flavored jelly bean just to remind myself why I don’t like them.

Now that we’ve gotten that distinction out of the way, allow me to reiterate that I hate the media.  They’re smarmy.  Arrogant.  Self-absorbed.  We, the people, rely on them to report the news but the field of journalism has become so dominated by pompous, preening jackasses that they want to become the news rather than report it.

Never is this fact more on display than when there is a massive storm.  At the time of this writing, it is August 25, 2017 and Hurricane Harvey is about to make the Lone Star State its bitch, which is no easy feet, because even General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna and an army filled with the most advanced, highly trained soldiers of the early 1800s wasn’t able to stop Texans from breaking off and forming their own republic.

Take this brief excerpt from the historical record:

SANTA ANNA:  Hey!  All you gringo dong sniffers in the Alamo!  Put your hands up!  There’s like a zillion of us and like a hundred something of you!

TEXANS:  East a dick!

Pretty sure it was Davy Crockett who told Santa Anna to eat a dick but as you can imagine, historical scholars have been known to disagree on the subject.

Where was I?  Oh right.  Reporters are terrible and are even worse during major storms.  As I write this, I’m flipping through the news channels and even though everyone watching at home is fully capable of imagining what a storm looks like, there’s still some damn doofus with a microphone on screen who was sent out in a rain coat being blown around by gale force winds as rain drops pelt him in the face.

I shouldn’t be sexist.  Sometimes they throw women out there in the middle of Mother Nature’s temper tantrums as well.

Case in point:

ANCHORMAN:  Holy shit, everyone!  There’s a big ass hurricane that’s about to butt rape Texas!  Our own intrepid report Joe Schmoe is on the scene.  Joe, how’s it going down there?

(Cue reporter using a death grip to hold onto a lamp post as the wind blows him to and fro and rain pelts him.)

JOE THE REPORTER:  It sucks really bad!  I think we all might be fucked!  And, oh shit, a tractor trailer just blew five feet over my head but that’s cool, it’s really important that all the dipshits at home see how bad things are here so I’ll keep risking my life!

ANCHORMAN: I’m awfully worried about you, Joe.  Please come inside.

JOE THE REPORTER: Yeah, yeah.  Keep saying that to make people at home think you care.  We all know I’ll get fired if I let go of this lamp post!  Whoa!  Look a bus full of nuns just fell out of the sky and crashed into an orphanage!  Back to you!

Yeah.  And that’s when the equipment is working.  Usually, the storm makes on location reporting difficult.  Consider:

ANCHORMAN:  A fat ass hurricane is about to destroy Texas.  Here to report is our own Sally Schmally.  Sally are you there?

SALLY THE REPORTER:  When am I going on?

ANCHORMAN:  You’re on Sally.

SALLY THE REPORTER:  Can we get out of here quick?  I want to get out of here before the looters come out during the eye of the hurricane and try to have their way with me.

ANCHORMAN:  Sally, is your earpiece working?

SALLY THE REPORTER:  I’m serious.  I’m strapped to the gills and I will pop a cap in all of those futhermuckers I don’t even care.

ANCHORMAN:  Sally, can you hear me?

SALLY THE REPORTER:  Jesus, I guess I have to wait all day getting rained on before they have me on.  Son of a bitch.

Oh well.  That’s my big complaint about reporters during storms.  It sucks they get put into danger.  Yet, somehow, whenever there’s a storm, I can’t look away.  I just pop a big bowl of popcorn and watch at all the reporters in raincoats holding onto lampposts for dear life as they get pelted with rain and whatever blunt objects the wind picked up and wonder how the world got this way.

What do you wonder about, noble reader?

 

 

 

 

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Vacation Marathon on AMC

AMC is showing all the Vacation movies. Even the lesser known Vegas Vacation is pretty good