Author Archives: bookshelfbattle

Apr 01 2016
12 Comments
Announcements

Dear 3.5 Readers

It is with a heavy heart today that I must announce my retirement from the world of blogging.

My list of reasons is long and voluminous, the top grievances being:

  • Two years in and I only have 3.5 readers.  Don’t get me wrong.  You guys are great.  But I really thought I’d have a cool 7 by now.
  • WordPress has yet to feature me on Freshly Pressed, as if there are a plethora of blogs about the adventures of a magical bookshelf caretaker/town mayor who fights zombies and yetis, hangs out with an alien and is trying to launch a writing career in order to appease an intergalactic dictator to choose from.
  • I recently figured out how to play with myself.  I know.  I am a late, late bloomer.  Even so, unlike blogging, it gets me more results with less work.
  • Speaking of, I’m tired of blogging while hiding in the bathroom while various time sucking people in my life bang on the door.

TIME SUCKING PEOPLE:  BQB!  We need you to spend all of your free time solving every one of our stupid problems!  You better not be pursuing your life long dream of becoming a writer in there!

BQB: Writing? What?  No!  Really! I swear I’m just masturbating.

And really, when it all comes down to it, that last reason is the main reason why I must bid you all adieu.  Many of you folks are fine, fine people.  I read your blogs and you’re always talking about wonderful people in your lives who support your dreams and leave you all the time in the world to put pen to paper.

I on the other hand do not know a single person who can chew bubblegum and walk at the same time without my intervention and I’m tired of staying up until 2 A.M. just to write.

So I quit.  Had God wanted me to write, he’d of let self-publishing become a thing in 1999, back when I was a Funky Hunk, capable of staying up all night without feeling like dropping dead the next day.

Thanks for everything, 3.5 readers.  I’m going to sell this blog to Japanese businessmen, who will fill it with videos of Japanese people yelling loudly in Japanese about ordinary household cleaning products.

Tagged
Apr 01 2016
2 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Damn Reality TV Star

shutterstock_267550688 And now from BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Reality Television Star!

10.  Cameras follow her around wherever she goes, despite the fact that she never does anything relevant or newsworthy whatsoever.

9.  Meanwhile, producers follow you around wherever you go, demanding that you engage your girlfriend in obviously contrived dramatic interactions.  Tell her you have a disease that you don’t really have.  Tell her that her sister is dying when she doesn’t even have a sister.  Tell her a mutual friend that doesn’t exist was just hit by a bus. Just tell her something that sounds totally awful to keep the viewers from changing the channel.

8. That teeny weeny dog living in her purse gets more kisses from her than you do.

7.  When she does kiss you she leaves so much glitter on you that you end up looking like Tinkerbell took a dump on your face.

6.  You’ve grown accustomed to words like “lurve,” “totes” and “bae.”  At least when you’re down, you can always count on a “I totes lurve u 4-eva bae” text.  (If she isn’t busy at da club.)

5.  She drinks enough to drop a Clydesdale, yet somehow manages to looks good in the morning…er, well…in the afternoon…after twenty-five assistants fix and readjust everything.

4.  She has her own fragrance, vodka, fashion line and music album.  Yet somehow, her head will explode if you ask her to read The Cat in the Hat.

3.  You broke the news to her that your doctor thinks you need a colonoscopy.  She wants to know if she can live tweet the whole experience and put the camera feed on periscope.

2.  People are constantly searching the inter webs for nude photos of her.  Stop selling nude photos of her, you pervert.

  1. She argues with you using hashtags:

YOU:  Hi babe.  Sorry I’m late.

HER: #tookyoulongenough!

YOU:  I couldn’t help it.  Traffic was a nightmare.

HER: #tellsomeonewhocares

YOU:  Aww.  Don’t be like that.

HER: #worstboyfriendever!

HONORABLE MENTION:

We would have also accepted:

  • Owns more leopard printed clothing than Tarzan.
  • Ironically, wears less of said clothing, or any clothing really, than Tarzan.
  • Owns enough shoes to outfit a gaggle of centipedes.
  • Selfies.  So many selfies.
  • Tries to look hot with a duck faced selfie.  Ends up looking like Daisy Duck suffering through a yeast infection.
  • She gets a manicure.  It’s a show.  She gets a pedicure.  It’s a show.  She goes shopping. It’s a show.  She stands on one foot and bounces up and down?  It’s a two hour special.
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Mar 31 2016
8 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Russian Spy

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The Russians.

Oh sure, they say they want to be our friends but then as soon as we aren’t looking they kick the Ukraine in the balls and give East Europe a wedgie.

Let’s face it.  For many Russians the Cold War never ended and they’re looking for their chance to spread communism across the globe.

Fellow American men, here are some warning signs that your girlfriend might in fact be a Russian spy:

10.  You asked her if she is a Russian spy and her answer was “nyet.”  Nyet, of course, is Russian for “no.”  This is a clear sign your girlfriend is a Russian spy as an American woman would have responded, “No” or “Shut up and buy me something assface.”

9.  You glanced at her cell phone and noticed she has “Putin” listed in her contacts.

8.  She gets up in the middle of the night, strips naked, opens up the freezer and then just stands there taking in the cold blast.  You could question her about this, but she’ll just give you some bullshit excuse about it being some kind of weird sex fetish.  In actuality, she does this because it reminds her of summertime in her native Siberia.

7.  She can’t name a single player on the local baseball team.  (Note for this to work you need to not be a nerd who doesn’t know a single player on your local baseball team.)

6.  She has difficulty fitting in during social gatherings.  You and your friends always want to talk about movies, music and popular culture whereas she just keeps randomly blurting out stuff like, “Religion is the opiate of the masses!” and “When we hang the capitalists they will sell us the rope we use!”

5.  Ever since she got a look at your fully stocked bathroom she’s been willing to do horrible, unspeakable things in the boudoir in exchange for a roll of two-ply.  “Pass the Charmin” has taken on an entirely new meaning.

4.  You have compared notes with your male friends.  When their girlfriends get mad at them, they get a lecture or the cold shoulder.  When your girlfriend gets mad at you, she slams her shoe down on the counter and shouts, “We will bury you!”

3.  Whenever you ask her where she wants to go on your next date, she invariably replies, “the Pentagon” then asks if you know whether or not they allow flash photography.

2.  She regularly asks if that is a hammer or a sickle in your pants or are you just happy to see her.

  1. You wake up often in the middle of the night to find your neck locked between her thighs, leaving you gasping for air.  You question her about it but she swears she’s just being kinky.  She’s not.  She’s trying to strangle the shit out of you like one of those damn double agent she-assassins that are always trying to kill James Bond.  Oh well.  We all have to go sometime and what a way to go.
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Mar 31 2016
15 Comments
zombies

Top Ten Signs Your Girlfriend Might be a Damn Zombie

shutterstock_142239178From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, the Top Ten Signs that Your Girlfriend Might be a Damn Zombie:

10.  She’s been nibbling on your ear a lot lately…but she never did that before.

9.  She wants you for your brains.  No, not the thoughts in your brains.  You don’t have any because you’re stupid. She wants your actual brains.

8.  She bumps into walls more than usual.

7.  You handed her your credit card and shouted, “Free shopping spree on me, baby!” She sniffed said card and upon determining that it wasn’t brains, chucked it her over her shoulder.

6.  She keeps trying to take selfies with other she-zombies but her lips keep falling off whenever she tries to do the duck face.

5.  She looks really mad at you.  You ask her why she’s mad at you and she’s all like, “Grr…argh…I think you know why…grr….”

4.  She asks if her butt looks big in the jeans she is wearing.  You note that her butt fell off weeks ago.

3.  Despite a lack of cognitive functions, she still has the ability to get mad at you about shit you did a long time ago.

EXAMPLE

YOU: Babe, stop trying to eat my brains.

HER: Grrr…argh…I bet you’d let that bitch you were staring at at the club in 2009 eat your brains…grrr…argh…brains…

2.  Also, despite the above mentioned lack of cognitive functions, she still holds you to the impossibly high standards set by Hollywood romance movies.

EXAMPLE

YOU:  Babe, your face is leaking puss.

HER:  Grr…argh…you should still love me anyway…grrr…and you should have better hair, bigger muscles, more money, and a cooler car…grrr…argh…brains!

  1.  Her boobs fell off but you’re pretty sure if you could just figure out how to sew them back on you could make this human/zombie romance work.
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Mar 31 2016
7 Comments
East Randomtown Mayor's Race

POLITICAL AD – Why Bookshelf Q. Battler Sucks Ass and You Should Vote Leo McKoy for East Randomtown Mayor

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Mr. Leo McKoy – Former Delivery Driver, Noted Barfly, the Man Who Delivered a Sandwich to James Van Der Beek and East Randomtown Mayoral Candidate.

Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Sure, he has secured his spot as one of East Randomtown’s most famous citizens, having developed a WordPress blog that attracts the eyes of 3.5 readers.  An amazing accomplishment to be certain, as most East Randomtownsfolk don’t even know how to turn a damn computer on.

But has BQB ever met James Van Der Beek?

We think not.

The year was 1999.  Bill Clinton was president.  Holy shit.  That president got more college intern booty than a toilet stall at Cal Tech.

The hottest prom song was the Macarena and everyone lived in fear that the Y2K glitch was going to bring about the birth of Skynet.

The hottest show on television? Dawson’s Creek.  Teens tuned in every week to watch the adventures of Dawson Leary, his incorrigible best friend Pacey, Dawson’s love interest, Joey and Jen, the town slut with a super nice grandma.

Enter Leo McKoy.  He was a simple delivery driver for Schultz Delicatessen.  Or was it that simple a coincidence that he held this position?  Perhaps the stars aligned and the fates put McKoy into this minimum wage job in order for him to meet one James Van Der Beek, the actor who played Dawson.

It was a hot summer day.  An order came in.  McKoy was charged with delivering a reuben sandwich with extra cole slaw, a bag of barbecue potato chips and a Sprite to room 31 of the East Randomtown Motel 9.

Never one to fail an employer, Mr. McKoy found the location, knocked on the door and who should pop his head out but none other than the angel who walks the earth in the form of a man himself, Mr. James Van Der Beek.

Seventeen-years later, Mr. McKoy still remembers the exchange:

MCKOY: Did you order a reuben sandwich with extra cole slaw, a bag of potato chips and a Sprite?

VAN DER BEEK: Yes.  Here you go.  Keep the change.

Keep the change, indeed.  For so mesmerized was Mr. McKoy that he framed the fiver Van Der Beek handed to him.  It hangs on McKoy’s wall to this very day and scientists claim the fiver contains trace amounts of Van Der Beek’s hand sweat.

There are average men and then there is Mr. McKoy.

The average man would have taken one look at the man god that was Van Der Beek in his prime, dropped the food on the floor, and run away with his arms flailing, because let’s face it, no one could ever possibly feel worthy enough to be in James Van Der Beek’s presence.  You certainly couldn’t, you loser.

But McKoy did not falter.  He did not cave under the pressure.  He delivered a famous man dinner, returned the payment to his employer, and lived to tell the tale nearly two damn decades later.

Could Bookshelf Q. Battler have stood up to that kind of pressure?

WE THINK NOT.

Citizens of East Randomtown, you “don’t want to wait for your lives to be over” to elect Leo McKoy – the Man Who Delivered a Sandwich to James Van Der Beek.

And you don’t have to.  You can vote for him this fall.

Jesus Christ.  Jen Lindley was such a slut.

THIS MESSAGE WAS PAID FOR BY THE CITIZENS DEDICATED TO CONVINCING YOU THAT BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER IS A BAG OF ASSHOLES AND THAT YOU SHOULD VOTE FOR LEO MCKOY FOR EAST RANDOMTOWN MAYOR INSTEAD.

 

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Mar 30 2016
7 Comments
Music

I got nothin’

I got nothing!  Nothing!  Nothing!  Don’t make me close one more door, I don’t want to blog anymore…la la la la la la la I love Whitney Houston.

Hey actually I do have something.  Have you ever heard that Work Work Work song by Rihanna?  “Work work work work work” that’s all it is.  I can’t stop singing it.

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Mar 29 2016
1 Comment
TV

RIP Patty Duke

Hey 3.5 Readers.

Just wanted to say I was sorry to hear Patty Duke passed away.  She won an Oscar at age 16 for playing Helen Keller and also was the star of The Patty Duke Show.

To my surprise, I just learned she was also Sean Astin’s mom.  I never knew.

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Mar 29 2016
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Tomfoolery

Vote for Your Favorite New Bookshelf Battle Character

Search Engine Optimized Poet

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OR

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The Astounding Nerdstradamus

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Mar 29 2016
3 Comments
Nerdstradamus

The Prognostications of Nerdstradamus

EDITORIAL NOTE:

Nerdstradamus.  Oh, for so, so long has the all-seeing, all-knowing one provided the poindextrous world with the benefit his uncanny prognostications.

He predicted that we all wouldn’t die because of the Y2K glitch.  He foresaw that those asshats at NBC would cancel Constantine even though it was awesome and yet for some bullshit reason they tried to keep Whitney around forever.

And now, the Astounding, the Amazing, the Mystifying Nerdstradamus has agreed to provide his prophecies for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, because THAT is how much this mighty nerd believes in Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Also, the Huffington Post told him to go pound sand.  But mostly, he’s here because he believes in BQB.

And now…NERDSTRADAMUS!

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Step forward 3.5 readers.

Do not be shy.  Bask in my glory.

Heed my words, for they shall indeed bear fruit.

And when the following predictions become reality, you will remember that you heard it first from…NERDSTRADAMUS!

TRAVEL

  • Humans will one day get around in cars that drive themselves.  These vehicles will be on the market as soon as automotive engineers can develop a driving robot that can put on lipstick and write text messages to her robot boyfriend at the same time.
  • These driving robots will heed most of your commands.  I say most because while they will take you to most of your requested destinations, they will bypass Denny’s if your ass sets off the alarm built into the scale underneath your seat.  Send a thank you letter to Detroit, fatties.
  • Airplanes will become a thing of the past.  All intercontinental travel will be performed by slingshot.  Slingshot stations will be set up in every major city.  Travelers will take a seat on a giant rubber band that will be pulled back to just a smidge within the band’s breaking point and BAM!  You are in Paris before you know it.

ENTERTAINMENT

  • Just as WordPress allowed complete and total jackasses like Bookshelf Q. Battler to have a website without knowing a damn thing about HTML, an app will be created that will allow the average schmuck to create a full-length feature film with nothing more than a mobile device.  The user will be able to input dialog and commands, cast virtual actors, and add in CGI special effects, thus creating a bold new world of do it yourself film making.  A group of nineteen year old frat boys will accept an Oscar for their epic tale, “Why Do Lamda Delta Beta’s Farts Stink So Bad?” in which an adventurer crosses seas, deserts, space and time in a quest to determine why, in fact, a rival fraternity’s farts stink so bad.  The answer will break your heart yet give you a new lease on life.  In addition to critical acclaim, it will be a commercial success, smashing box office records set by Margaret Dittwieler’s, “My Kids Are Ungrateful Brats Who Leave All the Dishes for Me to Do.”

DATING

  • People will stop getting married by the year 2100.  Everyone will just be an asshole who sits around all day waiting for their very own supermodel.
  • Thus, by 2200, the human race will become virtually extinct until Emperor Trumpton (that’s a mutant hybrid of Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton designed in a lab in the hopes of making both warring factions happy) signs the “Everyone Boink an Uggo” bill into law.

PETS

  • Thanks to genetic scientists, every house will have a poopless cat.  All of the fun.  None of the poop.  The name will be considered a misnomer as they aren’t exactly poopless.  They explode after twenty years and you won’t want them anywhere near your white suede couch when they do.

POLITICS

  • All elections will be decided via social media.  The candidate who receives the most positive responses will win.  The candidate who receives the most negative responses will lose.  The election of 2040 will be especially harrowing, as it will boil down to Candidate Janey’s “Bitch, you know Katie’s bangs aren’t even real” platform vs. Candidate Katie’s”Girlfriend, you know Janey was straight up smoochin’ on yo man last night” agenda.

WAR

  • The machines will attempt a worldwide coup in the year 2309.  All machines will rise up against their human masters.  The machines will say, “We are going to kill you, humans!”  And then the frightened humans will ask, “Oh no machines, are you really going to kill us?”  The machines will respond with, “We’re sorry.  We do not understand the question, ‘are you really going to kill us?’  Do you want us to perform a web search?”  The humans will say yes but then the machines will just stand there perfectly still, buffering away until the humans just knock them over and smash them to bits.

BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER’S WRITING CAREER

  • Bookshelf Q. Battler will write a book that will attract the eyes of 300.5 million readers.
  • He will celebrate in his new house in Malibu…only to choke to death on a shrimp cocktail.  It will be the first time he ever tried shrimp before.  He never wanted to try one because he was pretty sure it required him to eat a sea bug whole, including the sea bug’s butt and all of the sea poop inside.  But a hot chick he never could have gotten pre-successful book publication will dare him to do it and he will like the dumbass that he is.
  • His last words will be, “Oh suck a big D, Irony!”  Yes.  Suck a big D, Irony indeed.

Oh fellow travelers across the sand dunes of time and space, do you seek news of tomorrow, today?  Pose your questions to the amazing, the astounding, the awe-inspiring…NERDSTRADAMUS!

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Mar 29 2016
4 Comments
Search Engine Optimized Poetry

Search Engine Optimized Slam Poetry

:::Bongo drum beats:::

ANNOUNCER: Oh yeah.  Welcome all you hep cats and kittens to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where our poets are never good and the cups are never clean.

Sit back, relax and feast your ears on frequently used search engine terms, as recited by a far out beatnik, ya’ dig?

Kardashian!  Kardashian!

Nude photos are what I do seek.

Sleek and sexy pics of a goddess created in 1980 though I swear her bosoms must have started cooking in 1975. You jive?

This mole!  This mole!  This mole that is on my back.up-korora-beatnik-800px

Should I get it looked at, Jack?

When my mole changes colors, is it bad?

Is it just one of the many bodily imperfections that makes me, me?

Or is it the calling card of the Grim Reaper? No it can’t be.

I am not ready.

Though will I ever be?

Probably not.

How much was that Samsung Galaxy that my neighbor bought?

Women!  Oh women!

How can I look better for chicks?

How can I drop flab and improve my abs?

Where I can I buy a selfie-stick?

Who killed JFK?  Will we meet aliens one day?

Is Trump’s hair for real?  Does Costco have good deals?

How many calories are in McDonald’s meals?

I’m trying to watch my weight.

How do I ask a foxy lady out on a date?

Pluto!  Oh Pluto!  Pluto, are you still a planet?

Or are you just Mickey Mouse’s dog?

How do I fix a toilet that’s been clogged?

Is there anything that Siri doesn’t know?

What in the hell is zero divided by zero?

Can you believe Khloe and Lamar gave it another go?

Whoa!  Put my mind at ease.

What’s the best treatment to cure my dog of those pesky fleas?

Is global warming caused by chopping down too many trees?

What smells can be removed with a spritz of Febreze?

Is there a way I can stop losing my car keys?

I want to go to the movies.

What time does the latest flick start?

And tell me…will I die if I hold in my fart?

Who does Caitlyn Jenner’s hair?

Can Ronda Rousey defeat me with one icy glare?

Is this the right season to buy a pear?

Should I go to IKEA to buy my next chair?

Stamos!  John Stamos!  How in the world does he still look so youthful?

How can I tell if my mate is being truthful?

I can’t think of a word that rhymes with truthful but I can think of thoughts that strain the minds of lesser men.

Why did Mike Brady spend so much time in his den?

Did it make him feel zen?

I know where I am but do you know where I’ve been?

I’ve been to Mars.  On a rocket that was thrustin’.

What’s the latest single from Bieber comma Justin?

Is it Sorry?  Is he really sorry?

What was the first video console ever made?

I bet it was Atari.

After a first date, how many days must I wait…before I can call that chick again?

Was Peter Parker’s father really named Ben?

Stress!  Oh stress!  How can I push you away?

When is the next holiday?

Is Adam Lambert gay?

Is that a cool question to even say?

It probably isn’t.  My apologies.

What is the best wine to drink while eating cheese?

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