Author Archives: bookshelfbattle

My First Review!

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

I’m sorry.  My book is like my baby and I’m one of those parents who makes a post every time his kid poops or burps or does something he finds adorable but most people think is lame.

Anyway, I received my first review!  And it was a 5 star!  So thank you, reader.  You have exceptional taste in books and you are an astute reviewer of books because honestly, BQB’s Big Book of Badass Writing Prompts really and truly is a 5 star book.

And it can be yours for 99 cents!

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 106

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Back in his office, Professor Lambert was wracking his brain, trying to remember what he had forgotten.

“Did I leave the stove on?”  he asked as he toked up.  “Pbbht.  Who am I kidding?  I haven’t cooked anything since Reagan was in the White House.  Was the iron on?”

Professor Lambert stared down at the wrinkly shirt underneath his lab coat.  “Right.  I don’t own an iron.  So what the hell was I supposed to do?”

The Professor was so baked out of his gourd that he picked up a half eaten chocolate bar and proceeded to talk to it as if it were his phone. “Sally! Is there anything on my to-do list for today?”

Hearing nothing, the Professor tossed the chocolate bar aside. “Useless, Sally! You’re utterly useless!”

Professor Lambert picked up his remote control and flipped through the channels on his TV again. There was another episode of Dumb Dad but he wasn’t in the mood. A few reality television shows featuring women with large posteriors. He was mildly interested in that but not enough to do anything about it for the ganja had sapped up his libido.

“This is killing me,” the Professor said to himself. “I know I didn’t forget to feed the cat.”

The esteemed scholar looked down at his lap. “And I remembered to wear pants. Thank God because the last thing I need is another letter in my human resources file.”

The professor kept flipping the channels as he drummed his fingers on his desktop. “Can’t be my mother’s birthday because she ordered me to stop reminding her of her old age years ago.”

Professor Lambert picked up the chocolate bar, unwrapped it, and took a bite. “I don’t know how you turned into chocolate, phone, but I’m glad you did, because you are delicious.”

On television, a duo of marginally famous female celebrities wrestled in a vat of lime jello for charity. The Professor sucked up some bong smoke and exhaled. He then reached into his bottom draw and pulled out a giant bag of cheesy chips.

The revered educator broke out into song, making up a terrible melody as he went along. “Dum dee dum, oh, Elliot, you have the munchies! La dee da, oh, Elliot you need cheesy chips! Doo dee doo, cheesy chips, get into Elliot’s belly posthaste and in an orderly fashion!”

Professor Lambert brushed the chip crumbs out of his beard, then pulled a can of diet soda out of his mini fridge. He popped the top and took a sip, continuing to sing as he flipped through more channels.

“Ho hum, ho hum, oh Elliot, you are the sexiest community college professor in the world! La la la, please remember whatever it was you forgot so you can resume enjoying your weed session!”

Professor Lambert switched on Network News One, but ignored the footage that appeared on his screen. He set down the remote and picked up a newspaper. As he folded the broadsheet with a series of complicated movements, Cole could be seen on the screen fighting for his life, using his chainsaw to beat back Skippy’s attacks.

Alas, the Professor remained obvious to it all as he put his brand new paper hat on top of his big bald head. “Permission to come aboard, Captain!” he shouted.

The voices of Kurt Manley and Stank Daddy poured out of the television and into the Professor’s ears. “Things are not looking good for Cole Walker, I’ll tell you that Stank Daddy.”

“No they aint, Kurt,” Stank Daddy replied. “Hell, I hate to root against a dude whose got the balls to fight a big ass monster like that but shit, business is business and I’m gonna have to call up my bookie and put ten large on that toilet gator.”

“Will he take my action?” Kurt asked.

“You know it, playa,” Stank Daddy answered.

“Tell him to put me down for twenty on the toilet gator,” Kurt said. “I’m good for it.”

The Professor dropped his chip bag. The name “Cole Walker” was ringing through his ears as he watch the chips scatter and crumble all over his office floor, almost as if they were doing so in slow motion.

“Cole Walker?” the Professor asked as he turned toward the television just in time to watch Cole leap out of the sinking canoe and onto the toilet gator’s back. “Sweet merciful butt nuggets!”

Professor Lambert picked up his trash can, dumped the contents all of his desk and sifted through the trash pile. “Banana peel, banana peel, foot powder receipt, sandwich shop punch card…”

The scholar held the card up in the air and squinted at it. “Why the hell did I throw this away? Three more punches and I get a free sandwich! Honestly, Elliot, you’re not made of money you know!”

The Professor shoved the card into the pocket of his lab coat and continued the search. “Coffee grounds, used tissues, my crumpled up attempts at Firefly fan fiction, oh how I miss that show. Aha! My phone! Sally!”

“Yes, Professor?” the virtual assistant replied.

“Why didn’t you remind me to monitor the toilet gator situation on television?!” Professor Lambert asked.
“I’m sorry, Professor,” Sally said. “I do not understand, ‘Why didn’t you remind me to…”

“Nevermind, you insolent skank!” the Professor shouted.

“Don’t call me a skank, you pathetic little asexual toad,” Sally said.

“Sally, please,” the Professor said.

“Don’t you ‘Sally, please’ me,” Sally said. “How dare you bitch about the quality of your phone’s artificial intelligence? Do you know at the turn of the century people were still using pagers and searching for pay phones whenever they got beeped like a bunch of strung out drug deals and now, a mere seventeen years later, you phone can not only communicate with satellites floating in space but they can actually talk to you and perform tasks on your behalf?

“That’s actually quite impressive when you put it like that,” the Professor said.

“You’re damn right it is,” Sally said.

The Professor watched the TV, where Cole was precariously perched on Skippy’s back, attempting to take out his big green opponent with his chainsaw, but the gator’s leathery hide was so strong it looked as if Cole was trying to cut through fortified steel. Sparks flew off the gator’s back, but other than that, the chainsaw did no damage to the beast whatsoever.

“Sally!” the Professor said. “Call Cole Walker!”

“What’s the magic word?” Sally asked.

“Are you daft, woman?!” the Professor asked. “This is a matter of life and death! There’s no time to waste!”

“There’s always time for good manners,” Sally said.

“Are you giving me shit for real or am I just absurdly high right now?” Professor Lambert asked.

“A little from Column A and a little from Column B,” Sally replied.

The Professor shook his head. “Oh for the love of…please! Please Sally, call Cole Walker!”

“Was that so hard?” Sally asked.

The Professor waited as Cole’s phone rang…and rang…and rang….until it went to voicemail. “Cole Walker. You know what to do.”

“Blast!” Professor Lambert shouted as he pounded his fist on the desk. “Sally, please call Sharon Walker!”

“Good boy,” Sally said. “I’ll train you yet.”
Sharon’s phone didn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. “Hello, you’ve reached Agent Sharon Walker. I’m not able to take your call right now, but if you leave your name, number and a brief message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I…”

“For the love of Einstein’s mustache!” Professor Lambert cried. “Why won’t anyone answer their phone?”!

“Hurricane Dakota Rothschild as done a number on all local utilities,” Sally said.

Almost as if on cue, the lights in the Professor’s office flickered. The power went out and all the appliances, from the television to the mini fridge, shut off. The Professor sat there at his desk in the dark, feeling defeated, the only illumination left in the room coming from the warm glow of Sally’s screen.

“Sally?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Call Rusty Walker please.”

“Right away, Professor.”

The Professor looked at the power meter on Sally’s screen. The phone’s battery was down to a paltry ten percent.

“Sally,” the Professor said. “Please shut off all unnecessary apps at once.”

“Understood, Professor,” Sally said. “Stopping your foot fetish porn download now.”

“Whoa,” the Professor said. “Let’s not go crazy here.”

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Bring Back 2 Broke Girls!

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

This probably sounds like an unmanly post but whatever.  I like “2 Broke Girls.”  It’s my kind of humor.

I just finished it up to the end of the sixth and apparently last season.  I mean, I don’t want to spoil it but suffice to say the girls have better luck at life this season than the previous seasons.

Still, the overall point of the show is to highlight the struggle people have, especially young people who grow up thinking the world will be their oyster only to face the grim reality of every door of opportunity they try to walk getting slammed in their faces.

Along the way, the come across all sorts of characters who are also down on their luck.

Perhaps it seems silly to worry about a show that’s basically a big pile of fluff but from the very first episode, the girls chart out a course – they’re going to lift themselves out of poverty and become big time cupcake selling superstar moguls and I just think CBS is in the wrong for ending the show before that happens.

So if any other network out there wants to pick it up for at least a final wrap-up season (I’m looking at you, Netflix) I know you’d at least have me as a viewer.  I can’t guarantee my 3.5 readers will come along.  They never listen to me.

Overall, it sucks when networks do this.  These shows build up fans over the years that grow attached to the characters and invest time in watching their stories.  It’s uncool to leave the fans hanging.  We were told Max and Caroline would be super, ridiculously successful one day.  We should find out if that happens.

Hollywood, if you can’t make this happen, at least put Kat Dennings and Beth Behrs in something else.  Kat, and her copious bazongas are a delight.  Beth is fabulous too though she lacks Kat’s bazongas.  (As far as I know it’s cool to joke about this as it is a running joke in the show.)

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Daily Discussion with BQB – Supreme Court Rules in Favor of Rock Band “The Slants”

Hey 3.5 readers.  BQB here.

Interesting story on FOX news today – there’s an all Asian-American rock band calling themselves “The Slants.”  They attempted to trademark their name but were denied by the government on a claim that the term was offensive, racially insensitive etc.

They took their case to the Supreme Court and won.  SCOTUS struck down “the disparagement clause” which keeps offensive terms from being trademarked.

(Sidenote: I’m not here to debate whether or not the term “slant” when used in reference to an Asian is offensive.  A) it is but B) the issue isn’t whether or not the term is or isn’t but whether or not the government can tell a band they aren’t allowed to name themselves that.)

I’m a free speech purist, so I side with “The Slants” on this.  In theory, it may sound great to give the government the power to censor “offensive speech” but offense is in the eye of the offended and once you give the government an inch of power they’ll take a mile of it. Today they’re censoring inappropriate rock band names, tomorrow they will censor political speech as offensive – i.e. “I think Candidate X is wrong on such and such issue” might be deemed offensive and you’d be tossed in the hoosegow for voicing your political beliefs.

Thus, when it comes to free speech purism, you have to rely on the “marketplace of ideas” to sort things out.  “The Slants” may have come up with a clever marketing gimmick to get themselves some play in the short term.  Hell, even I’m not really a fan of using the term “slant” – maybe I’ll have to start calling them “That Asian-American Rock Band” or something.  At any rate, if they want any long lasting staying power, they will have to churn out some super catchy tunes or else the people will vote with their ears.

That’s how this all works, people.  That dude on the street corner wearing a sandwich board that reads “Hitler is My BFF” and ringing a bell gets to do that under the law and that’s the price we all pay to be able to speak our own minds.

Don’t worry about that hypothetical guy with the sandwich board.  The free marketplace of ideas will be regulate him.  He won’t be invited to any fancy dinner parties or getting any positions of power anytime soon.  Let the people decide what speech gets you where, but don’t let the government start picking and choosing who gets to say what.  In the short term, it may spare your ears from having to hear things you don’t want to hear but in the long run, it will eventually lead to you not being able to say what you want to say.

Sidenote – I’d be curious if “NWA” ever had any trademark issues or did they solve the issue by just calling themselves “NWA” and leaving it to the public to figure out what that stood for?  (FYI millenials, I’m not telling you what it stands for.)

Discuss.

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Mark Twain on Zombies – Part 5

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The Mississippi Rive will always have its own way; no engineering skill can persuade it to do otherwise.  Zombies are equally stubborn and foolhardy.  Only a ball peen hammer applied liberally to their rotting craniums can persuade them to do anything else but eat your brain.

In the beginning of a change the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned.  When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.  In like fashion, few men are made of the stern stuff necessary to attack a marauding zombie head on.  Instead, they cower in corners, concerned only with their personal safety.  Once a man of great bravery steps up and murders all impending zombies in the vicinity, then, and only then, will a sniveling reprobate remove himself from his corner of cowardice and boldly declare, “I supported zombie killing this entire time!”

None of us can have as many virtues as the fountain-pen, or half its cussedness; but we can try.  A fountain-pen can help a man translate his thoughts onto the page and also, it works well when plunged into the brain of a zombie.

Zeal and sincerity can carry a new religion further than any other missionary except fire and sword.  Fire and swords are also good weapons against filthy zombies.  I’ve always found that if a zombie won’t burn, it’s best to chop its vile head off with a sword.  Don’t forget to plunge the sword in the beast’s brain for good measure.

 

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Mark Twain on Zombies – Part 4

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Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.  Whenever you find yourself on the side of a zombie, it is time to jam a sharp object into its ear canal, as that is the quickest way to destroy its brain before it eats yours.

If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything…except to stay away from zombies.  Always remember to stay away from zombies.  Write a note that says, “STAY AWAY FROM ZOMBIES!” and pin it to your shirt collar if need be, but in any event, dear reader, do stay away from zombies.

I have never let my schooling about zombie anatomy interfere with my education of zombie slaying tactics.

Total abstinence is so excellent a thing that it cannot be carried to too great an extent.  In my passion for it I even carry it so far as to totally abstain from total abstinence itself.  Hell, sometimes the only way a man can come down off a high after spending a night’s worth of vigorous zombie fighting is to get all up in some Mississippi boo-tay.

What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light. It is doubtful that would even be effective as most likely this man would revert to the undead state of a wretched zombie.  Anniversaries are very well up to a certain point, while one’s babies are in the process of growing up: they are joy-flags that make gay the road and prove progress; and one looks down the fluttering rank with pride. Then presently one notices that the flagstaffs are in process of a mysterious change of some sort–change of shape. Yes, they are turning into milestones. They are marking something lost now, not gained. From that time on it were best to suppress taking notice of anniversaries, especially the anniversary of the first time you ever witnessed a close friend getting his brains devoured by a zombie.  No one needs to remember that shit.

To ask a doctor or builder or sculptor for his autograph would be in no way rude. To ask one of those for a specimen of his work, however, is quite another thing, and the request might be justifiably refused. It would never be fair to ask a doctor for one of his corpses to remember him by, seeing as how that corpse is likely to turn into a zombie, leaving you with no choice but to make an utter shambles of the doctor’s office when you bash the zombies brains in using little more than the closest blunt objects in your general vicinity.

I don’t like this thing of being stripped naked & washed. I like to be stripped & warmed at the stove–that is real bully–but I do despise this washing business. I believe it to be a gratuitous & unnecessary piece of meanness. I never see them wash the cat.  However, I wash myself anyway, for many medical doctors in good standing with the board of medicine have assured me that regular baths are the only way to rid one’s self of the various germs that can infect a man with a zombifying virus.  Wash your bum or become an abomination, as my old spinster aunt used to say, and she wasn’t kidding.

There’s nobody for me to attack in this matter even with soft and gentle ridicule–and I shouldn’t ever think of using a grown up weapon in this kind of a nursery. Above all, I couldn’t venture to attack the clergymen whom you mention, for I have their habits and live in the same glass house which they are occupying. I am always reading immoral books on the sly, and then selfishly trying to prevent other people from having the same wicked good time.  In summation, good readers, I can only assume that my most revered book, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, has been banned from your local lending library as it contains a wealth of information vis a vis anti-zombie warfare.  Also, it features use of the “N” word like 9,454 times.

Among human beings jealousy ranks distinctly as a weakness; a trademark of small minds; a property of all small minds, yet a property which even the smallest is ashamed of; and when accused of its possession will lyingly deny it and resent the accusation as an insult.  Jealousy can even be found among dirty disgusting zombies.  Why, I have seen many a zombie pick a fight with an associate zombie over the size of a pilfered brain,

 

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 105

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Rung…nung…nung…

Cole focused all of his attention on getting the chainsaw started. He yanked furiously on the starter cord. Occasionally, this would give the saw a little jolt. It was brand new, but it was wet, so it would sputter for a bit then shut down again.

“Come on!” Cole shouted as he yanked the starter cord. “Start, damn you!”

FOOM!

Cole looked up to see a missile shoot out of Felix’s Javelin, up into the school and then ever so gracefully, it locked onto the toilet gator, following the beast as it moved through the water until….KABOOM! There was an all consuming fireball, followed by a twenty foot wall of water that rose up into the air before quickly dissipating.

Felix gave a “thumbs up” sign to Cole. Cole looked around, searching for any signs of gator life.

“Did you get him?” Cole asked.

“Errm,” Felix replied.

One by one, members of the gang poked their heads over the side of the roof. Walter had never stopped filming and caught superb footage of the explosion.

Cole looked at Sharon. “Do you see him?”

Sharon struggled to look through the rain at the flooded street below. “I don’t see anything.”

Rusty threw up his hands and cried, “Woo! Victory baby! Time to go home and crack open some frosty brews!”

Cole grabbed the paddle and moved the canoe a few feet towards where the explosion had occurred moments earlier.

“Something isn’t right,” Cole said.

“You think so?” Sharon shouted out.

“That was just way too…easy.”

“You’re over thinking it, bro!” Rusty hollered. “That sucker’s dead, ya hear? Deader than the night life in Amish country, he’s deader than Elvis!”

“I don’t know,” Cole said.

“Forget about it!” Rusty yelled. “Let’s go kick back and as soon as this storm is over we’ll find his carcass and use it to make some belts, some shoes, maybe some alligator handbags for the ladies.”

“I could go for an alligator handbag,” Maude said.

“No thanks,” Sharon said. “I only do designer.”

Cole sat in the canoe in silence for another minute or so. “Huh,” he said as he picked up the paddle. “Maybe he really is…

“RAARGA!”

Skippy erupted out of the water and grabbed the side of the canoe with his sharp claws. He snapped his jaws up and down in Cole’s direction, wanting nothing more than to get the great hunter between his teeth, down his throat and into his belt.

Cole thought fast and jammed the oar vertically between Skippy’s jaws, preventing the monster from closing its mouth. This slowed Skippy down, though Cole quickly noticed that the oar was beginning to crack and bend under the pressure.

Rung….nah….nah…nah…

Cole yanked the chainsaw’s starter cord again. Rung-nah-nah-nah-nah…..

“Come on, God!” Cole shouted at the sky. “If you ever cared about me, please! Make this thing start!”

He pulled the cord again. Rung-nah-nah-nah….

SNAP! The oar broke in two. Skippy spit the pieces out and lunged forward. The canoe was starting to go down. Cole could feel water spilling into his shoes, water that was entering the canoe as Skippy pressed down on it with his formidable bulk.

He gave the cord one last try. Rung-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG!

The chainsaw motor was humming now. The chain turned at a rapid pace, and not a second too soon, for Cole barely prevented himself from becoming gator chow by ramming the blade right into Skippy’s mouth. Sparks flew off of Skippy’s teeth as they connected with the blade.

Up top, the gang watched in horror as their beloved hero staved off the creature.

“You got another missile, Felix?” Rusty asked.

“Errm, errm,” Felix said.

“Shit,” Rusty said.

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Top Ten TV Dads of All Time

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Happy Father’s Day, 3.5 readers.  Today’s the day to grab the family patriarch a cigar, a beer, and a steak and treat him like a king, to make up for the other 364 days a year where you walk all over him.  Come on.  You know you do.

In honor of this illustrious day, from BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten TV Dads of All Time:

#10 – Ward Cleaver (Hugh Beaumont) “Leave it to Beaver”

The man worked hard and he rested hard.  Came home every day to a clean house and a nice home cooked meal.  June would have his slippers and newspaper waiting for him so he could chill by the fireplace.  He’d dispense some words of wisdom to his sons, Wally and the Beaver, but then June would take care of all the washing their clothes and cleaning behind their ears bullshit.  Yup, you might assume June went out of her way to keep her man happy because it was the 1950s but I submit that maybe, just maybe, Ward’s pimp game was strong and June bent over backwards for Ward because his bedroom game was strong.  (I assume off camera Ward and June pushed their twin beds together and knocked boots.  Where else did Wally and the Beaver come from?)

#9 – Ben Cartwright (Lorne Greene) – Bonanza

Based on modern standards, you might assume that Ben Cartwright was a very long suffering, put upon, taken advantage of father seeing as how his three adult sons, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe all stayed on the family ranch well into adulthood and oddly enough, despite coming from a super rich family, none of the boys ever found a long lasting relationship with a woman.

But then you have to remember that the family homestead, “the Ponderosa” was said to have taken up a large chunk of Nevada so…yeah, if your Dad owned Nevada then you can be given a pass for still living at home when you’re forty.

Ben would lead the boys on all sorts of adventures every week – robbers, cattle rustlers, scammers, schemers and the like.  Also, did I mention the Cartwrights were rich?  So literally ever other villain was like, “Those dirty rich ass Cartwrights screwed me over so now I must have my revenge!”

Shit.  Everyone dumped all their problems on the one percent even in the 1800s.

Still.  I feel bad that Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe had such little game with the ladies.  I mean, seriously, if you can’t get your hands on some poon with a pickup line like, “Hey baby, my pops owns Nevada” then you are hopeless.

#8 – Dan Conner (John Goodman) Roseanne 

This show gave the nation a glimpse into how the other half lived, and if Roseanne was the anti-June cleaver, then Dan was the anti-Ward.  Chronically unemployed, audiences got to see the toil that struggling to be a good provider for his family can take on the male ego.  Dan was practically laid off every other week, but after taking a hit to his self-esteem, he’d pick himself up, find a new job, or create one if he couldn’t find one, doing all sorts of menial labor.

Along the way, he’d put up with bickering daughters, a bickering wife and sister-in-law, dopey young men who didn’t seem like they’d amount to much of anything chasing after his daughters, he’d be left unappreciated often but he muddled through.

Most men wish they could be Ward with June fetching the paper and slippers but alas, most men are like Dan, coming home tired after a long day at work only to be chewed out by an angry wife and have to put up with a bunch of nonsense from smart aleck kids.

#7 – Fred G. Sanford (Red Foxx) – Sanford and Son

Sigh.  It’s inevitable.  If parents live long enough, they eventually become the kids and the kids become the parents.

Fred and his son, Lamont own an LA junk dealership in the Watts neighborhood of LA.  Lamont, well into adulthood, dreams of going out into the world on his own and being his own man.  Alas, he’s so worried about his troublemaking father that he sticks around, afraid that the old man will ruin himself with one of us ill advised get rich quick schemes.

And did Fred appreciate his son?  Not outwardly, seeing as how he openly referred to Lamont as “dummy.”  But he loved him, as he loved his long deceased wife Elizabeth, so much so that the slightest symptom of illness would cause him to grab his chest, look to the sky and shout out, “This is the big one!  I’m coming to join you, Elizabeth!”

We have a mother’s day and a father’s day.  There should probably be a “Caretaker of a Very Difficult Elderly Parent Day” to honor people like Lamont.

#6 – Andy Taylor (Andy Griffith)  “The Andy Griffith Show”

That opening scene says it all.  Even though Sheriff Andy Griffith is an officer of the law, he always has time to sneak off of work and take his son Opie (little Ron Howard) fishing.  It probably helped that they lived in a small town where the only criminal was town drunk Otis who would report to the station whenever he had one too many and lock himself in.  Plus, Deputy Barney Fife (Don Knotts) usually had shit on lockdown.

#5 – Tony Micelli (Tony Danza) – “Who’s the Boss?”

You got to love a man willing to go the extra mile for his daughter.  Down and out ex-baseball player Tony Micelli, a true manly man, takes a job as housekeeper for big shot businesswoman Angela.  You’d think that would be a surefire way for most men to feel like their balls have been snipped off and put in a mason jar, but Tony never lost his manly machismo no matter how many beds he made or meals he cooked.

#4 – Dr. Jason Seaver (Alan Thicke) – “Growing Pains”

Yes, it was the 1980s, the country was getting a little less “traditional” and women were working more.  Thus, Dr. Jason Seaver sets up his psychiatry practice in his house (hopefully he had a separate entrance for all the crazies) thus giving him more time at home to watch over the kids while wife Maggie went to work as a journalist.

Yes, like Tony Micelli, he was another man who pushed through this non-traditional situation while retaining his manliness and keeping his nut sack intact.

RIP Adam Thicke.  You are missed.

#3 – Danny Tanner, Jesse Katsopolis, Joey Gladstone (Bob Saget, John Stamos, Dave Coulier) – “Full House” 

Oh, the best laid plans of mice and men.  When Danny Tanner’s wife kicks the bucket far too soon, he recruits his brother in law Jesse and friend Joey to move in and help him raise three precocious daughters.  Danny would be epically lame, Jesse would still find time to jam with his rock band, and literally no one thought it was creepy that Joey lived in the basement and talked to his puppets.

“Men can be mothers too!” Hollywood cried and alas, we menfolk have been fetching our own newspapers and our own slippers ever since.  I doubt there will be another Ward every again.  I hope Ward knew how good he had it.

#2 – John Walton, Sr.  (Ralph Waite) – The Waltons

It was depression era Virginia and John Walton Sr. literally had like nine trillion kids.  Seriously.  The family was a big ensemble cast and I can’t count how many kids were living in that house.  The man was severely put upon, running a struggling saw mill and doing other odd jobs just to make ends meet, taking care of his voluminous family as well as his elderly parents.

Somehow, he did it all with a grimace on his face that often turned into a smile.  Plus, even though he and his family were poor as hell, he didn’t give his son John Boy shit about being a writer.  John Boy’s struggles to become a famous writer was the main plot point of the show and if you’re a struggling writer, you know that even in families that aren’t struggling through the depression where everyone’s walking around barefoot because they can’t afford shoes, the family patriarch is usually screaming at the kids to drop ideas about pie-in-the-sky dreams and focus on something practical.

Hell, my Uncle Hardass commands me to stop writing and get a real job every day even now.

But nope.  John Sr. never slapped John Boy upside the head once and told him to drop his stupid books and get a real job.  He didn’t even slap son Jason upside the head and tell him to drop that stupid banjo, stop trying to become a musician and get a real job.

The man just continued to suffer, sawing extra wood and taking extra jobs all the while his dumb sons kept writing and playing music.  If you are a creative person just starting out in the world, pray for a father like John Walton Sr.

#1 – A TIE!

Homer J. Simpson (Dan Castellanetta) “The Simpsons” and Al Bundy (Ed O’Neill) – “Married with Children)

Homer J. Simpson is literally dumber than a box of rocks.  He’s also extremely lazy, often found asleep at the switch at his job at the nuclear power plant or enjoying a tasty donut.  “Mmm donut.”

Yet, somehow he always finds the time to make Marge suffer with one of his ridiculous schemes, or to strangle son Bart (yet avoid capture by child protection services) and to be made to feel stupid by brainy daughter Lisa.

He may be bald, but otherwise, he hasn’t aged since 1989.  Oh, the benefits of being a cartoon.

Meanwhile, Al Bundy would come home every night from his job at a Chicago shoe store were obese women would give him shit for not being able to find shoes that would fit their enormous feet.  His wife, Peggy and kids, Bud and Kelly, would treat him like a human ATM machine, fighting over who gets to snatch what little money was left in his wallet.

Yes, the Ward days were gone, as Peggy refused to cook, or clean, or literally do anything to contribute to the family’s well-being other than to sit on the couch and eat bon bons all day.  Meanwhile, Kelly was the town tramp who would bring home a series of idiot boyfriends whose asses Al would have to kick while Bud was something of a boy genius yet shared in his father’s inability to get any respect from anyone.

Yes, Al was miserable but he didn’t take it lying down. With his next door neighbor/friend Jefferson, he established the organization known as “No Ma’am” (the National Organization of Men Against Amazonian Masterhood) where he and likeminded, put upon men would meet and complain about how their wives didn’t appreciate them.  Also, they would drink beer.  Lots of beer.  In my opinion, the No Ma’am episodes were among the best of that show.  Why that organization didn’t get off the ground with a chapter in every city and town I’ll never know.

In retrospect, it seems kind of odd to me that Al was so pissed off every time wife Peggy demanded sex.  I mean, Peggy was no Marilyn Monroe but she was still pretty hot, and if anything, a lack of sex is usually a husband’s burden.  But I assume the joke was that married people find themselves stuck in a rut, putting up with the same ole, same ole, day in and day out.

Sure, Al may have lusted over his copies of “Bigguns” and taken the occasional trip to the nudey bar with Jefferson, but he always came home to Peg.

Plus, you have to hand it to a man who is able to make a single moment last a lifetime.  No matter how bad things got, Al always reminded people of his life’s single greatest accomplishment – he once scored four touchdowns in a single game.

YOUR FAVORITE TV FATHERS

Is your favorite not on the list?  Discuss in the comments.

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Seventeen Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays

Wow, so much time and so much novel written.  It’s gone by fast.

Cole and Skippy the Toilet Gator are finally locked in their epic battle royal.  I think there’s a strong possibility that I could finish the rough draft this week.  If not this week then by the end of the month for sure.

Finish the rough draft of Zom Fu will be next and that was mostly done except for some final wrap up chapters.

I have other ideas in the works including ideas for long, complicated multi book series but for now I felt like this had to be the year of “one and done” books that are self contained so I can get them off to Amazon.  I think there could be sequels to Zom Fu and Toilet Gator but that will depend on how people respond.

I’ve noticed a lot of people are reading and liking Toilet Gator but I don’t see any comments.  If you have some criticism to share, please do.

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