Category Archives: Tomfoolery

Top Ten Last Minute Gift Ideas for Your Girlfriend this Valentine’s Day

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Ahh, Valentine’s Day.  That day that you don’t want to screw up, for if you do, your source of vagina, er I mean your beloved lifelong best friend and companion, will go on lockdown.

Have you been too busy reading this fine blog to buy a gift?  From BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, here are my top ten last minute ideas:

#10 – Household Appliances – If 1950s advertising has taught me anything, it’s that you’ll be a hero in your household for getting your wife a dish washer, clothes washing machine, basically anything that will make less work for her around the house and frankly, you’re a good man for not being a stickler and making that lazy bitch clean clothes and dishes the better, old way of demanding that she put all that dirty shit in a sack and drag into down to the river and then spend three days washing it all in the river water and drying it all on a rock.

Make sure you let her know that you’re being a good guy by helping her out here.  “You know, honey, Mr. Tiddlybonker across the street makes his wife carry all the dirty clothes to the river…”

#9 – Money – Chicks dig money.   Oh, and if you don’t have a wife or girlfriend, I’ve heard that money can buy you a prostitute…so, rent a valentine!  (Don’t do it you’ll go to jail and be a bad man’s valentine).

#8 – IOU Coupons – Free backrubs, free this, free that.  Hand drawn.

#7 – Penis.  Consensual penis only.  Seek written, notarized, witnessed and videotaped consent.  Just to be sure, make her take a lie detector test while she’s consenting.

#6 – Karate lessons.  Once she’s a blackbelt, she can karate chop all of the unwanted, non-consensual penis.

#5 – A lifelike dummy replica – She can put this out and it will take all of the unwanted, unsolicited, non-consensual penis attacks while she goes about her daily business.

#4 – A song.  Write her a song.  Sing it.  If all else fails, sing your words over a Boyz II Men track.

#3 – Cake.  Women love cake.

#2 – Russel Stover heart shaped chocolate boxes.  Only squeeze 70 percent as you look for the one you want.

#1 – A poem.  Her eyes are like the ocean, her smile is like the sun…chicks love that shit.

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A Love Letter Using Only 1990s Song Titles

Dearest Macarena,

One Sweet Day, I’ll need you to Hit Me Baby One More Time.  I’m Too Sexy, I Swear, and I’m not a Loser.  Is this the End of the Road?  No, and No Scrubs could ever be Killing You Softly with His Song.  Will we be Livin’ La Vida Loca?  You Can’t Touch This?  That’s cold as Ice, Ice, Baby.

 

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How to Make Any Woman You Want Fall in Love With You

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Hey 3.5 readers.

Your old pal BQB here.

Look, I’m not gonna lie.  It’s tough out there in the dating world.  Women have very high, exacting standards and if you don’t meet them then it’s out on the curb you go.

If you’re reading this blog, then chances are you are a nerd.  I mean, if you were awash with hot ladies, you wouldn’t be sitting here reading my nonsense, would you?

Look, I’m a nerd but along the way I’ve managed to figure out some key tips, some crucial lessons that can help even the lowliest of dweebs score that fine ass hottie.  I’m not talking about settling for just any old woman – nay, I’m talking about how you, a dorky ass poindexter, can walk into a club and score any chick you want.

I figure it’s about time I give back, so I created an entirely new website, one that will give you all the answers you need to the questions you have about wrangling the hottest babes.  Watch one of my free seminar videos, read one of my articles, or if you’re still stuck, I’m happy to provide one on one consultations.

The thing to remember, 3.5 readers (who I assume are all male if you’re still reading) is this website WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.  No more lonely nights turning your socks ceramic.  No more lonely nights squinting at movies in the hopes of catching some side boob.  Nay, good sirs, all the boobs you want and then some will be yours if you simply visit my fine, excellent site today.

So it’s up to you, 3.5 male readers.  Are you a man or a mouse?  Are you going to sit back and waste your life, never experiencing the joys of being with a hot woman, or are you going to grab life by the balls and learn my secrets to picking up hotties today?

If you’re a mouse, then go eat some cheese, bitch, because I have no time for you.

If you’re a man, then click here.

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If you’re just joining us…

…I got tired of trying to explain to people what this fine blog is all about, so I paid this lady to do it for me:

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New Year Resolutions You Can Actually Keep

Fart more.

Eat more.

Be ruder.

Smell worse.

Do less.

Procrastinate more…tomorrow.

Exercise less.

Watch more TV.

Play more video games.

Be lazier.

Read less.

Fail more.

Don’t be productive.

Eat more candy.

Don’t get out and meet anyone.

Get fatter.

 

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I Paid Money for This…

…so I feel like I have to run it every once in awhile:

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“Baby It’s Cold Outside” – Sexual Harassment Version

BQB NOTE:  Last year, I wrote “Politically Correct ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside.‘  Now, given the latest news, it’s time for the Sexual Harassment version.

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HER:  I really can’t stay…

HIM…but baby it’s cold outside.

HER: I’ll call the media right away!

HIM: Oh my God!  No, please, I’ll put down my hands today!

HER:  This evening has been…

HIM:  …I’ll stop bothering you then…

HER:  The top story on CNN!

HIM:  Look, I’m sorry and my abuse will cease.

HER:  I’m drafting a press release.

HIM:  I’m so embarrassed I want to be dead.

HER: Hello operator, put me through to Gloria Allred.

HIM:  I didn’t mean it, I’m so ashamed.

HER:  The pundits will give you the blame.

HIM:  I just wanted to grab a boob.

HER: And now you’re off to jail, so grab the lube.

HIM:  Oh my God, I’m so screwed!

HER: I really can’t stay.

HIM: No more argument here.  So sorry to offend.

HER: Your perversions are now the top Twitter trend!

HER: I really can’t stay.

HIM: Then get the hell out of here!  Please, for the love of God, I still want a job on Monday!

HER:  Wow, it really is cold outside!

 

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Happy Halloween

Have a good day, 3.5 Halloweeners.shutterstock_113293567

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Someone in England Bought My Book

Do I have to fill out twenty forms to be able to accept the 29 British cents or is that Amazon’s problem and I’m accepting money from Amazon, an American company?

I dunno.  I don’t want to be accused of being a British spy for accepting 29 British cents just because some guy in Liverpool wanted to check out my writing prompts. Lord knows I have always vowed to report redcoats wherever I see them and I have never allowed the King to quarter troops in my domicile.  Also, I never drink tea and have urged all of my neighbors to throw their tea into the nearest harbor.  I even burned all my Beatles albums…except for Hey Jude because if you can listen to that song and not cry you are a heartless bastard.

Surely, someone out there has had your book bought by a British person…what do you do?

(Also, thank British person for buying my book.  If anyone else wants to buy it, they can do so here.)

Bookshelf Q battlers for Amazon

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A Brief History of the Second American Civil War

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It began in 2017 and lasted until 2030.  By the end of the gruesome conflict, over a hundred thousand protestors on various sides of the political spectrum and with little more to do than go out and hold signs about their individual causes while their poor oppressed parents footed the bill, would be dead.

Millions more Americans who just wanted to turn on the TV and not see outbreaks of tomfoolery would be severely annoyed.

What, you might ask, was the Second American Civil War over, you might ask?

It was over what to do with the monuments dedicated to the First American Civil War that ended approximately 160 years ago.  Yeah.  We know.  Stop shaking your head.

It all began with General Toke-It-All Jackson, the unemployed and unemployable pot fan/purple haired fifth level otherkin hipster leader of the Social Justice Brigade.  “As nothing as my witness, because the idea of a God is oppressive to atheists everywhere, I will never allow a statue of some old racist fuck sit in a park while no one gives a shit while his head gets pooped on by pigeons ever again!”

And so the Social Justice Brigade marched through the South, using their limited upper body strength to pull down one statue of a traitorous rebel racist fucker after another, rather than, you know, maybe just submit a proposal to the local city governments to ask that the statues be removed through the democratic process and be put into museums where nerdy Civil War re-enactors can continue to delay losing their virginity by master bating all over these monuments to a failed effort to double-cross the United States of America.

Meanwhile, the Modern Southerners would not stand for this.  Their leader, General Hushpuppy Beauregard, who sounded very similar to Foghorn Leghorn, publicly said, “We Modern Southerners do not see these statues as a tribute to racism, but rather, as a tribute to our ancestors.  Why, my Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandpappy Rufus Beauregard was General Lee’s personal horn blower.  Why, old Grandpappy blew General Lee’s horn long and hard, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast, always being sure to use plenty of tongue and not any teeth and sometimes for hours on necessary if need be.  He looked clean and crisp and respectable in his uniform and we are all proud of Grandpappy’s service.”

When pressed on the fact that the Confederacy was set up to continue the wretched institution of slavery, General Hushpuppy said, “I do declare sir, we Modern Southerners are not racist at all.  We love black folk just fine and want to see them do well and get good jobs and be successful and have good lives and I suppose if our daughters bring one of them home we will begrudgingly acknowledge them and then yell at our dumb wives for telling our dumb daughters for this is somehow ok but regardless, we bear black folk no ill will.  In our minds, the Civil War has been homogenized in pop culture and the hundreds of Civil War films we have seen just display the conflict as a disagreement between two sides of gentlemen gone awry.  Those movies rarely mention the slavery aspect or if they do, they don’t focus too hard on it.  I add that I am no racist sir for I have all of Jay-Z’s songs on my iPhone and I masterbate to the sight of Beyoncé’s luxurious rear end at all times.”

When pressed again, General Hushpuppy added, “Look, we love black folk, but we like to brandish our Confederate memorabilia from time to time to remind those uppity Northern folk that if they keep trying to switch our barbecue ribs for kale and our pick-up trucks for Priuses and our shootin’ irons for therapy, we’ll split off from the country and by God, we’ll do it right this time.”

But it wasn’t that easy.  There were two more sides.  Next, there were the Racist Manboys.  These dudes were all kind of chubby.  Some were Nazis who, like their hero, Hitler, were trying to compensate for small penises.  Some were Ku Klux Klansmen who stole their mothers’ bedsheets and cut eyeholes in them, leaving their mothers to cry, “This is why we can’t have nice things!”

Their leader, General Honkey von Cracker, said, “The white man is better and more smarter and interesting-er than all the other mongrel races and I do be the one who should be knowing this as I took ten years to grad-u-a-mate from night school GED class.  I would have done it sooner but one time a black man cut me in line at the Burger Hut and I seethed with rage over it for years.  I’m not still quite over it but with therapy I have faith I will be.”

The Racist Manboys really, really, really loved the statues of Confederates because they often fantasized about traveling back in time just so they could join the confederacy and fight in a war to oppress black people.  The Racist Manboys divide their time between efforts to build a time machine that will allow them to travel back to the 1860s so they might join the Confederacy and to lobby for laws that will make slavery legal again because the only way they will ever be laid is if it becomes legal to kidnap hot black chicks and hold them against their will.

Finally, there was one last group of non-combatants, the People Who Had Shit to Do.  Ironically, their leader was an African American by the name of Fred Wilbur, who said, “How in the Hell do all you people have so much time on your damn hands that you can go out in the middle of a weekday and beat the shit out of each other over a bunch of statues of some racist white folk from the 1800s?  I mean, holy shit, as a taxpayer, I don’t like to see my taxes go toward the upkeep of a statue of some ass face who wanted to keep me in chains, but shit, I have a wife and kids.  I have bills to pay and mouths to feed.  I work a day job, a night job, and a weekend job.  I got three Goddamn jobs and you weirdoes don’t have any.  Get a job, get Jesus in your life.  I mean, shit, I don’t like the statues but if all you dumbass white people are just going to beat the shit out of each other then fuck it, just let the pigeons shit all over those dumb old statues of those racist pricks until the end of time.”

And so the battle raged on for 13 years as the three sides fought one another while people with jobs like Fred would just come home after work, pop open a beer, curse at all the idiots without jobs then rent a movie on pay per view, preferably one with a lot of action and chicks with big ass titties.

Finally, the war ended when a peaceful solution was offered.  The Confederate statues would remain, but statues of freed black slaves rogering statues of the white wives of the Confederate soldiers would be erected next to the Confederate statues.  All were happy by this compromise which, ironically, was proposed by President Bookshelf Q. Battler, the greatest president America has ever had ever and will also ever have.

Everything was good for awhile until the Third World War broke out in 2034.  That one was over whether or not to get rid of statues of George Washington, not because of the fact that he was a slave owner, but because George, as was the custom in his day, wore a gray haired wig to make him look older and wiser as elders were respected for their wisdom at the time.  Alas, by 2034, youth took over the world and anyone over 35 was required to sit down on an iceberg and be floated off to sea.  No one with gray hair was ever seen again and anyone who used to have gray hair in the past was considered a piece of shit who had to be erased from history.

Finally, in the year 2200, the Fourth American Civil War broke out over the proposed removal of statues of JFK, FDR, Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, President Flava Flav and President Bookshelf Q. Battler.

You see, by the year 2200, a pill was invented that made it so people don’t have to shit anymore.  Yes, by taking this pill, humans were able to absorb all necessary nutrients from their foods without producing poop.  Anyone pre-2200 who never took this pill was considered a dirty pooping Neanderthal.

Thus, a great debate began.  Yes, JFK, FDR, Lincoln, Roosevelt, President Flava Flav and President Battler had all done great things.  In fact, President BQB provided all men with free sex robots, which made them happy because they were never without sex again and their wives happy because they didn’t have to suffer their smelly husbands flopping on top of them ever again.

However, all these men pooped, and so, the Anti-Poop front declared that any traces of anyone who ever took a shit had to be erased from history as they were dirty pooping savages.

That was the last American Civil War.  After that, America, like the rest of Earth, was conquered by an alien race.  The population of the entire world was wiped out and the aliens used the planet to store their excess tennis shoes.

Later, a war would break out amongst the aliens over a statue of an alien wearing tennis shoes when it was decided that dock siders were much more stylish.

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