Monthly Archives: July 2018

Daily Discussion with BQB – Is Frankenstein a Zombie?

Hey 3.5 readers.

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

As you are aware, I have traveled the world, fighting zombies, vampires, werewolves, chupacabras and yes, even ill-tempered hipsters and so I, I know a great deal about the occult.

I’ve shared much of my knowledge on this fine blog, though I doubt any of you have ever paid attention.

Here’s a test.  Is Frankenstein, and technically speaking, is Frankenstein’s monster, a zombie?

There is a right answer to this and I know it, but discuss in the comments and I’ll be back later to tell you whether or not Frankenstein is a zombie.

Remember, you must tell me a) if Frankenstein is a zombie and b) why or why not?

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Movie Review – The Equalizer 2 (2018)

He’s like a one man A-Team.

BQB here with a review of “The Equalizer.”


It was a winning formula in 1980s TV.  Take someone with a “special set of skills” (“Taken” reference) and have them use those skills to help average people who would normally collapse under the weight of their above average problems.

The A-Team did it – Vietnam vets who returned home to wage war on crime.  And the 1980s TV version of “The Equalizer” did it as well, featuring Robert McCall, a retired CIA agent who uses his skills to help those in need.

Denzel Washington is back with the second installment in a movie series about that character.  This time around, he’s a Lyft driver, who travels the streets of Boston.  When he overhears the problems of his passengers, he can’t help but use his skills to intervene. Anything is on the table, from locating and extracting a kidnapped child to avenging an abused prostitute.

In this version, Denzel’s main task is to locate the killer of a former CIA colleague.  Pedro Pascal of “Game of Thrones” fame joins in the hunt as another CIA colleague who thought McCall was long dead.

I debated if this was the best plot for the film.  There are movies about active CIA agents galore and “The Equalizer’s” appeal is in him helping everyday people on his own, using the knowledge he gained from the CIA but without the benefit of CIA resources.  Apparently, someone involved with the production realized that, as side stories where McCall helps the helpless in his orbit abound.

This films are good distractions.  Enjoyable and sometimes it is life affirming just to get some on screen fatherly advise from Denzel.  Not every mission requires a gun.  Advice for neighborhood kids to stay off drugs and stay in school abound.  It’d be hokey if his advice weren’t so good, delivered from a man who has seen it all and knows how badly a person’s life will turn out if his warnings aren’t heeded. “I’ve seen it all so do as I say or fall on your face, it’s no skin off my nose” has been Denzel’s bag in a number of films for quite some time now.

If Denzel is reading this fine blog, and I don’t see why he wouldn’t because this blog is awesome, I hope he’ll consider a television reboot of “The Equalizer.”  I know he’s a big star, but stars just as big have found success in television and TV isn’t the end of an acting career that it used to be.  I could see a big budget weekly show where McCall helps a new civilian as a success.

Then again, maybe McCall doesn’t have anything to prove and Denzel doesn’t either.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy.

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Daily Discussion with BQB – Pride in Work is Dead

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

Not to get into specifics because you never know when the Yeti might be listening, but recently, I upgraded BQB HQ and that required the purchase of a number of new appliances.

You take them out of the box, set them up, everything is right as rain, right?

Wrong.  You have no idea how much time I’ve spent on the phone with tech support and customer assistance the past few months.

I got a vacuum cleaner that wouldn’t suck and ironically, its inability to suck made it suck.  It was cheap so I thought I got a bargain but apparently it was cheap for a reason.  After multiple go arounds with customer service, I junked it and forked out the cash for a Dyson.  The Dyson works great and ironically, had I just bought a Dyson in the first place I could have afforded a better Dyson.

I bought a desk.  It came in a box.  I had to screw all the parts together.  It was missing parts.  I consulted with others who looked at it just to make sure I wasn’t crazy.  I wasn’t.  It was missing parts.  After a long tango with customer service I, you guessed it, junked it.  It was 100 bucks, which I guess is cheap for a desk but that was all I needed.  I gave up and just got a 20 dollar folding card table.  That’s my desk now.  WTF.

Yeah, in hindsight had I not spent so much on book covers for books I’ll never get published I probably could have bought a really fabulous desk but anyway….the lesson seems to be don’t buy cheap things because they are cheap for a reason.  I’ll buy a top of the line desk when I can afford it.  Until then, I might as well have saved the 100 and gotten the 20 dollar card table up front.

Except the buy top of the line doesn’t work either.  I treated myself to a fantastic TV.  TV is my life so I might as well have a good one.  I take it out of the box and…WTF…there’s a base that screws into the television but the screw holes in the back of the TV are nowhere close to where the screw holes in the base are.

After an hour of having a physics and engineering discussion with tech support, the guy said he’d send me a new part and I told him up front please like actually work on this because I already know you’re just going to grab the same part and mail it to me and I’m going to have a meltdown, not an angry meltdown but just an utter collapse of hope in the overall abilities of society and mankind.

Seriously, if I get the wrong part in the mail, that will be it.  It will be a sign that we have turned a corner in the world, pride in work is dead, and I will retreat to a corner and rock back and forth in the fetal position until it is my time to go.

Also, I hear they don’t make blogs as good as they used to.  I wouldn’t know.  This blog is superior to all blogs.  You laugh, but you’ve never logged on here, found the wrong post, and had me be all like, “Oh sorry, I’ll send you the right post in 7-10 business days but it will probably still be the wrong post.”

By the way, did I mention that earlier this year, I got a new laptop?  It was great and still as laptops go it is fine, but occasionally it overheats to the point where it is hotter than the surface of the sun.  It got so hot that rubber pieces attached to it melted off.  After many tangos with customer service I finally decided that it only overheats once in awhile and a laptop that occasionally burns me that I can’t leave plugged in while I’m gone for fear it will burn down BQB HQ is, as the quality of most products go, a freaking win, because at least it is, more or less, operational, and somewhere there is a guy whose laptop grows a leg and kicks him in the balls who would love an occasionally hot laptop.

Do you have a customer service nightmare you’d like to share?  Discuss in the comments.

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Daily Discussion with BQB – Don’t Worry, Be Happy?

Hey 3.5 readers.

Do you think singer Bobby McFerrin was right when he advised the world, “Don’t worry, be happy?”

Sometimes I wonder if it is more appropriate to worry and also be unhappy.

Honestly, if you ain’t got no cash and ain’t got no style, ain’t got no girl to make you smile, then what the hell do you have to be happy about?


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I Got Nothing

Too busy working on Toilet Gator.  You’re welcome.

Daily Discussion with BQB – Add Fart to a Famous Quote

“The farts in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”

OK 3.5 readers, now you…in the comments.

Thar Advice Blows with Captain Deathbeard – My Coworker Steals My Lunches

By: Captain Deathbeard, Special Guest Pirate

Capt. Deathbeard

Arr!  Avast, yon lily livered 3.5 bilge rats!  Captain Deathbeard am I and weary am I as I just pulled me vessel into the Isle of Tortuga, only for a local wench to fetch me a bottle with this message inside:

Dear Captain Deathbeard,

I work in a mid-size office with approximately 25 other co-workers.  For the most part, we all get along well.  Everyone is kind, courteous, polite and in general, we all care about providing a safe and comfortable work environment.

However, there is one person who has become a problem.  Every day, I go through the effort of packing myself a lunch.  You see, I struggle with my weight and I want to know exactly how many calories are in my food.  So, I get up early, pack just the right amount and bring it to work so I don’t fall into the trap of leaving the office for fast food or take out.  A moment on the lips and a lifetime on the hips, am I right?

Anyhoodles, for the past three weeks, Karen from accounting has been stealing my lunches.  I confronted her about this in the break room.  I pointed out that she was eating out of a Tupperware container with my name on it and she said that I’m wrong and that also Karen is just her nickname and her real name is also my name and that we share the same name. I don’t think this is true.  Also, she was eating the same things that I distinctly remember packing.

I want my plan to bring lunch to work to be a success, but I’m tired of going through all the effort only to have Karen steal the efforts of my labors.  I’m thinking about going to HR with a complaint, but I don’t want to be a tattle tale.  Should I file a formal complaint?  Maybe I should just give up on bringing my own lunches and eat out.  What should I do?


Frustrated in Jacksonville

Arr!  Ahoy yon Frustrated!  Ye sound like a lovely lass and were it not for the raging syphilis coursing through me longsword, I’d batten down yer hatches and keel yer haul till the day Davey Jones’ locker is opened, yo ho yo ho.

But admittedly, yar, I agree that ye be needin’ to skip the rich grub that be offered in the local taverns and bring ye own sustenance from yer cabin yerself.  Arrr, I been doin’ all manner of misdeeds and mischief for many a dark night, so I have no cause to judge ye with the watchful eye of the devil’s boatman, but I peeled me eyes at the picture of yeself that ye enclosed in yon letter and me first reaction was, “Arrr!  Whale off the starboard bow!  Grab the spears and throw them posthaste!  May the creator guide our throwin’ hands steadfast and true, yar!”

But then I realized ye were a human and not a whale.  A shame, most certain, for ambergris fetches a pretty penny in the perfurmery market.  Arrr, women do enjoy any opportunity to smell like the bile of a wretched sea monster, yar yar yar.

Frustrated, tis up to thee and all men and wenches must make their own minds in this life but I say if ye ever wish fer any sort of reputable gentleman to make merry with your fetid lady cave, then heed me warnin’ – ye must lose yon lard and ye must pack thine own vittles.

Avast! Gather round the lantern and look into me eyes, the eyes that have seen certain doom and lived to tell the tale.  Know what I say next to ye is true.  Arr, yon Frustrated, ye must get in Karen from accounting’s face and spin the yarn below thusly:

“Arr, yon Karen from accounting!  Vile, despicable hag witch that ye are, remove thine skeletal fingers from me provisions and hang ye head low for thine treachery!  Art thou daft, wench, to not surmise that we be part and parcel of a kindred crew, that we be all aboard the same boat, and when ye sabotage mine efforts to not bear a likeness to a great whale, ye not only do me harm but harm to thine self, for if I fail then yon mid-size office fails and if that fails then ye fail!”

Yar, barring that, I’d advise to rattle a sharp saber in the hag’s general direction, threaten her profusely and perhaps take her family hostage aboard thine ship, making yon Karen aware that her kith and kin will only be returned if yon lunch is returned safely or, if yon lunch already has bite marks, then only when yon Karen provides an alternative lunch of equal value.

Arrr, but I hear for the purposes of the laws of man that I cannot advise ye thusly and only kind words of reason will do.  Arr, ridiculous as I always let me cutlass do me talkin’ fer me, but I suppose ye live in a strange age when women run the show, yar.

Ahoy, Frustrated!  A final thought.  Have ye considered buryin’ thine lunch?  Simply pack ye baloney sandwiches and apple slices into a wooden crate, locked with a lock forged from iron and adorned with a skull and cross bones.

Dig a hole so deep that it leads ye to fear that ye might come out in the Orient if ye were to dig any further.  Arr!  Blast ye, yon PC hipsters! ‘Tis but a trifle for me to say, “Orient” fer I be from the 1600s, mateys.  Arr.

Bury ye lunch and be sure to mark its location on a map with an X.  When ye are ready to feast on the innards of ye store bought yogurt cup, fetch thine shovel and obtain thine delicious reward.

Arr, just don’t let ye map fall into the wrong hands…and especially keep it away from that bitch Karen, arr.

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Thar Advice Blows

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Hey 3.5 readers.

You might remember that in September of 2015, this blog was taken over by pirates who turned National Talk Like a Pirate Day into Talk Like a Pirate Week.  All week long, they posted about piracy.

Honestly, if you remember that, I’m worried about you.

Anyway, I’ve invited the pirates back for their very own advice column, because that makes sense.

Enjoy, mateys.

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Schizophrenic Stream of Consciousness Rant #1

Boogers! Muah ha ha, boogers, I shall remove you from my nose posthaste with the trident of Poseidon who, by the way, is a close family friend because my mother fucked many fish.

Diabetes in a can all the way down to the tannery where my cloak of invisibility is produced thanks to the hide of a cow that cannot be seen by the eyes of mere mortal men.

Twizzlers! I say twizzlers and garbanzo beans in my potato’s au gratin.

Dan Quayle is the stylish master pimp of the universe and all the elites in the underground cave of boozle bozzle know this.

Earthquake! Everybody duck! Donald, to be exact.

Farts! Glorious farts!

Never lick a toilet seat without asking.

Gnomes are a-holes! A-holes, I say.

Beware the global conspiracy against toothpaste!

Fuck squirrels!

Tapioca pudding in my brain!

Women Think Everything is the Handmaid’s Tale Now

Hey 3.5 readers.  BQB here.

I have never seen “The Handmaid’s Tale” – a) because I don’t have Hulu and b) because I have a penis.

However, my understanding based on the shrill harpy cries I hear on TV is that it takes place in a future where women are subjugated to male rule, kept as slaves, forced to wear red dresses and white bonnets and do the man’s bidding.  Apparently, fertile females are rare so they are owned by men who procreate with them and keep them locked up or something.

Also, apparently there’s an old woman named Aunt Lydia who keeps the handmaids in line.

So, I’ve never seen this show.  Tell me if it is worth a Hulu subscription but again I won’t think so because I have a penis.  All I know is these are some real life scenes that are happening all over the world thanks to this show.  Basically, if you ask a woman to do anything at all now they reach for the red dress and white bonnet.

SCENE #1 – The Remote Control

MAN:  Honey, can you pass the remote?

WOMAN:  Ah, fi on thee, cruel world, for though hast forced me into a life of handmaidenry!  Damned to do the bidding of my cruel master!  I shall toil away for life and never find any peace as I…

MAN: Oh, nevermind.  It was right next to me the whole time.

SCENE #2 – Sandwich

MAN: Honey, while you’re in the kitchen, can you make me a sandwich?

WOMAN:  Cursed villainy! I shall now dawn the red dress and white bonnet of the handmaid, for shuffle I will through life like a cursed wretch!

MAN: Whoa!  A 2 for 1 pizza coupon in my pocket!  Babe!  Nevermind!  I’m going to call Luigi’s!

SCENE #3 – At Work

MALE BOSS:  Sarah, the figures in your report is all wrong.  I’ll need you to stay late and re-do it.

FEMALE EMPLOYEE:  Oh, vicious agony!  To the chamber I will retire to work my fingers to the bone!

SCENE #4 – Kids

HUSBAND: Babe, I was thinking, should we have a baby?

WIFE:  Bah!  Oh woe unto me, for I have been forced into the unenviable life of a brood mare, damned to whelp your spawn at my breast for all eternity.

HUSBAND:  Yeah.  Plus babies smell bad and they cost a lot of money.  You know what, let’s just get a puppy.

WIFE: I love puppies!

SCENE #5 – The Date

MAN:  Pardon me, ma’am.  I don’t mean to be rude.  My name is Fred and I’m never usually this forward but well, you intrigue me and I wonder if you’d like to get coffee sometime so I could get to know you better.

WOMAN:  Blasted fate!  I shall have no choice but to take the name “Of Fred” and live in your broom closet where Aunt Lydia will whip me and chain me up and …

MAN: Whoa, geeze.  You know, I just remembered I’m allergic to coffee so, have a nice day.

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