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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 7

October 7, 2015

It was mid-afternoon and a bit of light streamed in through the store’s front windows. I felt at ease during the day. It was night time I had to worry about. The pitch black night when VGRF, my alien and I huddled together back to back, fearful that a vicious zombie might be inches away from our faces and we wouldn’t even know it.

“Ahh let’s see,” I said as I stared at Alien Jones’ space phone. “Couple new followers. A few new comments. Some dude is trying to post a spam comment about Venezuelan jock itch powder.”

Sir Spamsalot says: 8:01 A.M. Oct 2, 2015

I am to be enjoying your fine bloggings with the writings and the words of much importance and interest to the readers of the world who care very much about jock itch powder for the curing of the itching of the jock…”

“Delete!”  I said as I punched a button on the space phone.  “I’ll never allow me 3.5 readers to be sold inferior jock itch powder!”

“I can’t believe you’re worried about your dumb blog at a time like this,” VGRF said.

“I’m past the point of no return in my one post a day for a year challenge,” I said. “I promised my 3.5 readers one post of BQB goodness every day in 2015 and by God, I’m not about to quit now, come hell, high-water, or zombies!”

I scrolled through my WordPress dashboard.

“Jeeze,” I said. “I’m really behind in responding to these comments…whoa!”

“What?” VGRF asked.

“Check this out.”

My ex-girlfriend, Bland Life Settler, or “Blandie” as I called her, had posted a comment on the Bookshelf Battle Blog a few days earlier, long before the power went out:

Blandie Settler says: 9:45 P.M. October 3, 2015

BQB, you ass! You’re really updating your blog right now? You know I work at Hipster Hut and yet it never once dawned on you to check on me to see if I’m ok! I’ve barricaded myself in the backroom behind the checkout counter. Get your stupid ass over here and save me or I’ll tell every last one of your 3.5 readers about your tiny…

Huh. I don’t know what happened. The rest of the comment must have been cut off.

“Blandie works in the mall?”  VGRF asked.

“Same job since high school,” I said. “Blandie likes things to be predictable and boring, whereas I prefer to try new things. It was one of the main reasons why she dumped me.”

Alien Jones sauntered in, noshing on a club sandwich he’d made himself from various ingredients he’d swiped from the deli. I don’t think it mattered to him that everything had spoiled due to a lack of electricity.

“That and your tiny…”

I cut the Esteemed Brainy One off.

“Yeah, I can’t think of any other reason why she left,”  I said.

“She also disparaged your interest in a writing career,” Alien Jones said. “Caused you to quit on your dream and take a lame job as the Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice President of Corporate Assistance at Beige Corp, the world’s premiere producer of beige products and accessories.”

“God,” I said. “I haven’t even checked in with my boss since last week.”

“Don’t worry,” Alien Jones said. “He’s probably zombie poop by now.”

“Poor Mr. Thompson,” I said.

I’d always thought I had the most boring job known to man, until I met Video Game Rack Fighter and learned that she was the Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice President for Corporate Assistance at Drying Paint Media, the world’s premiere production studio for drying paint videos.

I knew it was kismet because we’ve both long regretted not following our dreams, mine of becoming a writer, hers of designing video games, so now we support each other and pursue our passions in our spare time.

“Blandie made this post four days ago,” I said. “Wow, I hope she’s ok.”

“Why?” VGRF asked. “You’ve still got the hots for that bimbo or something?”

“What? No.”

The photo of Blandie that BQB kept. She literally made this face at our hero at all times throughout the tenure of their relationship.

The photo of Blandie that BQB kept. She literally made this face at our hero at all times throughout the tenure of their relationship.

“He didn’t throw away the photo of her when you moved in to BQB HQ,” Alien Jones said to VGRF.

That little green rat.

VGRF looked hurt.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “I don’t know why I didn’t throw her photo away. I don’t have any feelings for her anymore. It’s just, we were together a long time. Somehow it didn’t seem right to throw her out with the trash.”

“As she did with you,” Alien Jones said.

Zing.

“It’s ok,” VGRF said. “I get it. I might have a photo hanging around of my ex too.”

“What the shit?!”  I yelled. “You need to burn that shit immediately!”

VGRF was pissed at that response.

“Um, I mean, ok, so we’ve both come to an agreement that it’s possible to wish an ex well and not still be in love with them. And you know what? Screw Blandie. If she needs to be rescued from brain chomping bastards then she should have thought about that before she let this prime side of beef go.”

“No,” VGRF said.

“No?”

“No,” VGRF repeated. “She’s still a human being.”

“I can tell you some stories that would change your mind about that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” VGRF said. “She’s a person. Whether it’s your ex or some random stranger, I’ll never be able to live with myself knowing someone was eaten alive by zombies and I could have done something to stop it.”

“Babe, no,” I said. “We’ve got a good set up here. We’ve got the whole run of a store full of supplies. The hall is full of undead beasts ready to sink their teeth into us. No. Absolutely not. We’re staying put.”

“If you don’t go, then I’ll go on my own,” VGRF said. “If we let Blandie die, then we’re no better than the monsters we’re hiding from.”

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about what to say.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go by myself. I won’t allow you to die for her.”

I felt my heart racing. VGRF’s cheeks looked a little flush as well.

She slapped me across the face.

“Damn it, man! Where you go, I go. I’ll never abandon you and that’s the last I’ll hear of it!”

Alien Jones sucked on a straw attached to a two liter bottle of soda and watched us like he was at a movie theater and we were the coming attractions.

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I brushed my hand over the spot on my cheek where VGRF slapped me.

“I love it when you play rough, baby.”

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the danger. The possibility that we were considering a mission that could get us both killed, but our engines were at full throttle.

“Yeah, you like that?” VGRF asked as she ripped my shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere. “Then take me right here, right now you sexy bitch!”

“All right I’m out,” Alien Jones said as he walked off toward the deli. “I wonder if there’s any pastrami.”

VGRF pressed her lips against mine, pushed her tongue inside my mouth and gave me the longest, most passionate kiss we’d ever exchanged in our entire relationship.

“MMmph, baby,” I said as I pulled my head back. “Hang on. I need to call someone.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER AND VIDEO GAME RACK FIGHTER, USUALLY LIKE THIS:

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NOW LIKE THIS:

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THANKS, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 3

It was only a matter of time.

Since October 1, zombies have been trying to break through the metal gate that separates Price Town from the rest of the mall. Thus far, it has held.

We secured the front doors leading to the parking lot as well, locking them, then chaining and padlocking the handles together for extra measure. We moved as much furniture and junk as we could find to put in front of the glass doors.

In the stock room, the loading dock was impenetrable. There was a giant roll-down steel door that was shut tight.

But we forgot one thing.

The four of us were playing a rousing board game that may or may not have involved dungeons and or possibly dragons when a hideous zombie popped out of a ceiling vent.

Zombie Farmer...E I E I...ARRRRGGHHH!!!

Zombie Farmer…E I E I…ARRRRGGHHH!!!

The creature was ugly and wore a pair of overalls. I assumed he must have been a farmer in his previous life. He lunged at us and I didn’t hesitate to unload a clip in his chest, to no avail.

Bernie scored a headshot and the zombie’s brains went flying everywhere.

Four more zombies charged out of nowhere, but were instantly misted.

Alien Jones smacked his vaporizer.

“Out of power? I thought I charged this thing before we came here!”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, that’s my bad. I unhooked your vaporizer because I needed to charge my electric toothbrush.”

Alien Jones' Pocket Vaporizer

Alien Jones’ Vaporizer

Alien Jones face-palmed himself, took a seat at VGRF’s video game console and started playing Car Thief Mayhem.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I thought you didn’t like that game,” VGRF added.

“Yeah, well, you dummies have put me in a prostitute running over mood,” was the Esteemed Brainy One’s reply. “Go secure every vent in the store. I can’t do everything for you.”

“Sheesh,” I said as VGRF, Bernie and I walked away. “If he had a butt, I’d ask what crawled up it.”

“It’s the zombie apocalypse,” VGRF said. “It’s stressful. Puts a lot of pressure on everyone. You can’t expect everyone to act like their usual selves. Circumstances like these bring out the worst in people…and aliens.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “People are the same no matter what situation you put them in. Right Bernie? Bernie?”

Bernie was busy, smearing his face with war marks, using dark eyeshadow he nabbed from the make-up

Bernie's losing it...more so than usual...or than he ever did in the late 90's.

Bernie’s losing it…more so than usual…or than he ever did in the late 90’s.

aisle.

“Look out for Charlie. He’s everywhere. And its either us or them.”

He took a kitchen knife he pinched from housewares and walked up to the carcass of the farmer zombie. There wasn’t much head left, but there was just enough there to hold an ear.

Bernie cut it off and showed it to us.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making a necklace,” Bernie said. “As a warning to the other zombies.”

I leaned in and whispered into VGRF’s ear (luckily still intact) and said, “You might be right.”

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Amazon’s $50 Tablet

Amazon has released a $50 tablet.

They’re so cheap you can buy a 5-pack for $250.

Use them as stocking stuffers.  Hell, leave one by your bed, one in your car, one at the office, one on your kitchen table, toss them all over and you won’t be without a tablet next time you need one.

Does your kid keep bugging you for your tablet?  Give them this one so they won’t get their greasy fingers all over yours.

Are they any good?  God I hope not or else I overspent on my last tablet.

What’s Amazon up to?  Assumably, they want to get their products into the hands of as many people as possible and are reaching into the market of folks who normally couldn’t afford a tablet…which is a good thing.

That or perhaps with Apple and Samsung tearing up the tablet market, perhaps they might think “$50 bucks could convince an Apple user to try us out.”

And they’re right.  I’ve been curious about Kindle, but not enough to abandon my iPad.  $50 might convince me to check it out.

What will it mean for us aspiring scribes?  More people with tablets=more readers?

More readers for other people.  I only have 3.5.

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Happy National Talk Like a Pirate Day!

By:  Capt. Deathbeard, Special Guest Pirateshutterstock_102600596 copy

ARRRR!  Avast ye bilge rats!  I hope ye have enjoyed this week of pirate talk lessons.

Today be the big day so make sure ye be talkin’ in the language of piracy from the dawning of the sun to the witching hour.  ARR.

Here be some last minute commonly used pirate phrases for ye perusal:

ARR – Umm or catchall phrase.

AVAST – Hey

AHOY – Hello

SHIVER ME TIMBERS – That’s surprising.

ME HEARTIES – My friends.

WALK THE PLANK – Typical pirate solution to any and all problems.

LAND HO – There is the land.

LILLY LIVERED – Easily frightened person.

POOP DECK – The part of the ship where the magic happens.

SCURVY – An ancient ailment, usually caused by a lack of good nutrition and/or fruit.

SCURVY DOG – Commonly used insult, drawing an inference that a person is a canine suffering from an ailment caused by a lack of fruit.

SCALLY WAG – Jerkface.

DAVEY JONES’ LOCKER – Alternate solution to all pirate problems if the plank is already booked.

LAND LUBBER – Insult that implies a person who doesn’t embrace a life of sailing the seven seas and robbing ships is a jerkface.

AYE AYE – Yes.

GROG – Alcohol.  Margaritas, cosmos, and other fancy drinks weren’t available to pirates.  Instead, they’d mash up some crap, let it liquefy, use it to brew up some inebriating slop and have at it.

MISEN MAST – The part of the ship that holds a sail.  Alternatively, the pirate’s junk.  (i.e. ahoy me lady, ye surely rise me misen mast, ARR!)

BRITCHES – pants

BRINEY DEEP – Where Davey Jones’ locker is located.

Enjoy National Talk Like a Pirate Day, mateys!

For more info, check out the site of original Talk Like a Pirate Day inventors John Baur and Mark Summers.

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Things That Really Frost My Ass – People In My Way at the Store

If stats are any indication, Uncle Hardass’s “Things That Really Frost My Ass” is one of the most popular posts on this blog.

Maybe I should just let the old geezer take over.

bookshelfbattle's avatarBookshelf Battle

Hello 3.5 Readers.

“Things That Really Frost My Ass” with Uncle Hardass

Uncle Hardass here, reporting from the afterlife.

It’s been awhile since I’ve written on my good for nothing nephew’s blog.  I don’t want to encourage him with this writing horse shit.

You’re a writer, BQB?  Woopitty doo.  You can string together words and sentences.  GUESS WHAT?  You’re not special!  Get a job!!!  The salt mines are always hiring!

Anyway, where was I?  You know what really frosts my ass?

When you go to a store and you need to get one thing.  Just one little thing.  It’s all you need.  The trip should be quick and simple.

But when you get to the store there’s some goddamn jackass right in the way of the product you need.

And it’s never something that a lot of people need thus it makes sense that someone’s there.

It never happens when I…

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Now he’s just getting lazy…

shutterstock_120849070Sorry folks.

Alien Jones, the Esteemed Brainy One, is taking yet another Sunday off.  He promises to be back next Sunday with a brand new Ask the Alien column.  He has a few questions to get to, but if you have one, please send it his way and he’ll get to it sooner or later.

Don’t forget, self publishing authors who ask the alien a question will get plugs for their books and/or blogs.

Enjoy your Labor Day Weekend!

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Why “Self or Traditionally Publish?” is a Dumb Question

I always thought this was one of my better ramblings…

bookshelfbattle's avatarBookshelf Battle

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

BQB sounds off. BQB sounds off.

Self vs. Traditional Publishing – Which route should I take?

For awhile now, I’ve read posts that begin with this very question from a number of bloggers.

Apparently, there’s a lot of folks who feel this is an either/or proposition.

Allow me to provide my take on the issue by posing these questions:

  • Should I continue working a day job or should I put all my time and money into buying and scratching lotto tickets?
  • If a nice woman comes up to me tomorrow and expresses an interest in going out on a date with me, should I take her up on the offer or should I tell her to hit the bricks because Scarlett Johannson might (I repeat “might”) knock on my door and demand my sweet, sweet lovin?
  • If I enjoy telling jokes to people, should I continue telling them or…

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Why Librarians Don’t Want to Buy Your Self-Published Book

Don’t hate on the librarians, self publishers. Here’s why they aren’t able to accommodate your self published book by Molly Wetta.

Molly Wetta's avatarwrapped up in books

When a self-published author contacts someone in the collection development department at my library, we let out a collective groan. Inevitably, our answer to the request to add their book to our collection will feel personal, which is awkward. It will definitely mean more work for us no matter what, and for acquisitions and cataloging staff as well if we do accept the book as a donation or decide to purchase it.

Librarians don’t want to buy your self-published book, but not for the reasons you think. 

I’ve been thinking about self-published books and their place in libraries a lot recently, as my library has been updating our collection development policy and brainstorming ways to streamline how we deal with requests from authors to include their self-published materials in our collection and how our collection development work complements our strategic goal of supporting content creation in our community.

Then, this weekend…

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Hey, Traditional Authors: Self-Publishing Isn’t the Easy Way Out

Jennifer Bresnick explains why Self Publishing Isn’t the Easy Way Out.

Jen Bresnick's avatarJennifer bresnick.com

NB: In case you’re interested in winning a copy of Dark the Night Descending, even though it’s self-published, I’m giving away five books on Goodreads right now!


Twitter is great for many things.  It helps you share and communicate.  It provides an endless stream of adorable cat pictures.  It delivers breaking news in bite-sized nuggets, and it can satisfy your occasional need to get outraged about something a complete stranger says.  I think you can guess which one this blog post is going to be about.

cat

No, not that one.

Myke Cole, a military fantasy author, retweeted this comment and image by the magician behind Fantasy Faction, one of the biggest genre communities out there.

selfpub

And I was not happy.

First of all, despite the assertion that there are exceptions to what he obviously believes is a rule, the flow of this chart is insultingly reductive.  Let’s establish one thing…

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