Tag Archives: christmas

Dec 07 2016
Leave a comment
Things That Really Frost My Ass

Things That Really Frost My Ass – Uncle Hardass Recites Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” – Part 1

By: Uncle Hardass, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Grumpy Old Man Correspondent

cropped-shutterstock_159396938 copy

Hello degenerate 3.5 readers.

How are your unlikely writing careers going?

I overheard my idiot nephew Bookshelf Q. Battler saying the other day that you all participated in something called “NaNoWriMo” last month.

Interesting.  Let me do my best impression of the agent that you’ll submit your book to: “NANOWRI…NO!!!”

Get a job, clowns.  The salt mines are calling your name and all that salt isn’t going to mine itself.

In the meantime you useless wastes of space, I want to tell you all about a good man whose reputation is always unfairly trashed this time of year.

That would be one Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge.

You think he’s the bad day in Dickens’ classic?  “Bah humbug!” I say.

Let me lay it all out for you so you special snowflake twerps will understand:

EBENEZER SCROOGE WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE DAMN BOOK WHO HAD A JOB AND EVERYONE ELSE WAS A BROKE ASS HIPPIE LOOKING FOR A HANDOUT!

If you haven’t read the book yet because you’re too busy working on your writing career (which will go nowhere) then I’ll tell you what happens.

Ebenezer Scrooge is the richest son of a bitch in London and he didn’t get there by writing books and reading stupid ass blogs, let me tell you.  No, he became wealthy through the sweat of his brow and the cut of his jib.

The man was a genius who worked his ass off, saved his money, then, as all rich ass futhermuckers do, he put his money to work for him by becoming a money lender.

Thus, because he’s so friggin’ smart and rich you’d think he’d be the hero of the story and everyone would want to emulate him but noooo.  Instead, every cheap ass, lazy ass do nothing assface in Jolly Old England comes knocking on Scrooge’s door to complain because they’re a bunch of jealous losers who wish they could be half as successful as this pillar of the community.

Do they pick Scrooge’s brain and ask him for tips on how to be successful?  Do they ask him for a job so they can learn the skills they need to make it in the world?

Nope.  They just bitch and moan about what a rich prick Scrooge is rather than look at themselves in the mirror and realize they have made poor life choices and they are failures and if they had an ounce of Scrooge’s work ethic, they wouldn’t be crying poor mouth all the time.

Anyway, so a couple of do gooder charity collectors knock on Scrooge’s door looking for the old man to part with his dough in the name of the less fortunate and Scrooge is all like, “Eat a dick, do gooders, those losers can go to the workhouse or the prison or some shit.”

So then the do gooders are all like, “But shit, yo, the poor people would rather die then do that.

And the Scrooge is all like, “Good then tell them to die, bitch, I ain’t got time for this shit I’m a hard ass working man, son.  Don’t let the door hit you in your do gooders asses on the way out.”

Later, Scrooge’s nephew comes by.  I don’t remember the cat’s name so we’ll just call him Fuckface McGee.  Young Fuckface is all like, “Uncle why don’t you come to my Christmas party!  I love Christmas and I’m all happy and shit!” and then Scrooge tells him, “Yeah, well you would be dick nuts since your parents worked hard and gave you all their cash so you can mince around like a pansy and rub your lack of a need to work in everyone’s face but some of us had to work for what he have so no, go lick a scrote because I don’t have time to go to your Christmas party.”

Then Scrooge’s man secretary Bob Cratchitt gets in Scrooge’s face and he’s all like, “Scrooge can I put some coal on the fire and can I get Christmas Day off?” and Scrooge is all like, “Damn it Cratchitt. Do I look like I’m made of coal?  Does coal just pop out of my ass?  No, that shit costs money.  And you want me to pay you to NOT work on Christmas?  What kind of pinko Commie Marxist bullshit is this?”

But then Scrooge feels bad even though he shouldn’t because let me tell you, that man could have put an ad in the paper for Cratchitt’s man secretary job and have fifty candidates lined up by the end of the week and none of them would want extra coal on the fire or want the day off for Christmas or any of that other crap.

Therefore, Scrooge was all like, “Yeah fine take Christmas off but get your ass here bright and early the next day because all of my important papers and records and shit aren’t going to write themselves, man secretary.”

After working a long ass day because he was such a hardworking man, Scrooge plops his old ass into bed only to hear some chains jingling.  He looks up to find the ghost of his old partner, Jacob Marley.

“Boo, bitch!” cries Marley to wit Scrooge replies, “Goddamn it, Marley!  I’m overworked and old as fuck!  Are you trying to give me a heart attack with your spooky white translucent ghost ass?!”

vintage-1705150_1280

Just another hippy harassing a hard-working, self-made man.

“No, bitch!” Marley says.  “My ass got sent to Hell because we cheated so many people and  stole all their money and shit and now I’m here to warn you to be nicer and do some do gooder shit and give away all your money to lazy ass incompetent freeloaders who don’t do anything!”

And Scrooge says, “What?  Eff that in the A.  Trump won so I’m not going to do all that hippy shit!”

Marley jingled his chains and was like, “Booo!  Boo!  I’m a ghost and shit and I will leave you with a warning that three more ghosts will come to haunt you this evening!”

Then Scrooge rolled his eyes and said, “Damn it.  A hard working, successful man can’t get some sleep around here.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Tagged , ,
Dec 05 2016
4 Comments
Tomfoolery

An Interview with Krampus, the World’s Most Notorious Ancient Germanic Yuletide Demon

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

So, as you know, I’m a hostage of the yeti, but he is allowing me to interview my next guest because he is such a fan of his work.

I’m not a fan per se but, you know, the blog must come first and I need the clicks.

Without further ado…Krampus.

horror-1312110_1280

Krampus: Vile Ancient Yuletide Demon/Denier of the Power of Facial Scrubs

BQB: Your Evil Hornyness, welcome.

KRAMPUS: Thank you, BQB. I’d say it’s good to be here but I’ve been thrown out of places much classier than your pitiful blog.  Hell, I had way more than 3.5 followers in the olden days when computers hadn’t even been invented.

BQB:  Right.  So, can you tell my 3.5 followers who you are?  I don’t mean to be rude.  I’m just not sure that they have heard of you.

KRAMPUS: That’s cool, bitch.  First of all, I am hella old.  I date back before pre-Christian times.  Second, I’m the antithesis of everyone’s favorite fat man, that rotund wishy washy do-gooder Santa Clause, or as I call him, “Old Saint Dick.”  See what I did there?

BQB: Yes.

KRAMPUS:  Because he’s really Old Saint Nick but I called him Old Saint Dick because I think he’s a dick.

BQB: Punny.  But we all know what Santa does.  He brings toys to all the good little girls and boys of the world.  What do you do?

KRAMPUS: Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone and stop the presses, Cochise.  Santa does not bring toys to good girls and boys, so let me just straighten out your bent propaganda there.

BQB: He doesn’t?

KRAMPUS:  No, he doesn’t.  Oh sure, he’s got you all hoodwinked with all the, “He sees you when you’re sleeping” and the naughty/nice list but really, honestly, truly, we all know that shit is a scam.  That fat bastard will bring a toy to a kid no matter what and he does not give a shit whether or not that kid has been naughty or nice.

BQB:  Really?

KRAMPUS:  You know it, bitch.  Look, parents love to get their misbehaving little turds to straighten up by warning them that they will get jack shit when Santa finds out all the heinous shit they’ve done, but Santa doesn’t care enough to actually cross-reference a naughty/nice list of every damn child in the entire world.  And you think the elves are going to help him do it?  Those little freaks are union.  They have like nineteen smoke breaks a day and the fat man is lucky if he can get those pointy eared butt goblins to do a half-hour’s worth of work in a day where he pays them for eight hours at a rate of fifty bucks an hour.

BQB:  Wow.

KRAMPUS: I know.  If I were that fat ass crushed red velvet suit wearing diabetes patient, the first thing I would do is send all of those Keebler cookie rejects packing and ship the entire North Pole operation to China.

BQB:  I think we’ve gotten off topic.  You still haven’t told my 3.5 readers what you do.

KRAMPUS:  Well, nothing right now, but back in ancient times, I did Santa’s job.

BQB:  Oh.  So you delivered toys to good little girls and boys?

KRAMPUS: Say what?  Bitch, please.  If a kid was good, I walked my demon ass right on by that kid’s house without giving him a reward.  You’re supposed to be good and to channel my inner Chris Rock, you’re not supposed to get a “cookie” for doing something “you’re supposed to do.”

BQB:  Oh.  And the bad kids?

KRAMPUS:  Beaten with chains.

BQB: Umm…

KRAMPUS:  Yup.  “Hey Gunter and Greta,” all the ancient Germanic parents would say.  “Be good and do your chores and clean up the cave and wipe all the moss off the rocks and don’t talk back or else Krampus will throw you in his sack, beat you with his chains, then drag you off to Hell.”

BQB:  This interview has taken a turn for the worse.

KRAMPUS: Oh please, don’t feed me that namby-pamby bleeding heart shit.  The ancient holiday season was fun.  Ancient folk would even sing songs.  “Krampus Carols” we used to call ’em.

BQB: Please don’t sing one.

KRAMPUS: “Jingle chains, jingle chains, Krampus has got his chains…”

BQB: Stop.

KRAMPUS: “Over the river and through the woods and into Krampus’ sack we go…”

BQB:  Stop.

KRAMPUS: “…it’s slung over his back and down through the cracks of the earth and into the underworld we go-ah-oh!”

BQB:  We get the picture.  So obviously, you don’t do that anymore.

KRAMPUS:  A shame really.  So many children deserve a good in-sack, chain beating.

BQB:  Wow.  OK, just for the record and not just because my lawyer is advising me to say this…I do not condone or approve of violence against children in any way, shape or form.

KRAMPUS:  Fine, fine.  We can nix the chains and the sacks and the dragging naughty children off to Hell now that we live in quote unquote modern “enlightened” times.  But at the very least, that little shit that keeps pulling his sister’s hair and treats his parents like cash machines and personal servants should not get a present from the fat man, don’t you agree?

BQB:  Eh…kids are kids.  Sometimes the worst kids grow up, realize the difference between right and wrong and live good lives despite youthful naughtiness.

KRAMPUS:  Yeah, and like I said, no more sacks, chains, and/or draggings off to the underworld, but maybe instead of a new bicycle, Tommy can pay his penance for bullying all those nerdy kids at school by being forced to watch a week’s worth of incredibly dry documentaries.  “No Tommy.  No presents for you.  No trip to Grandma’s house to play with toys and stuff your face with cookies.  You will now watch programs about how wicker furniture is made until New Year’s Eve.

BQB:  I’m not really for it but I guess it is way better than the chains and the sack and so on.

KRAMPUS:  I’m a hip demon.  I get with the times.  I can find all kinds of new age punishments that twenty-first century hipster millennial parents will be down with.  “What?  You didn’t do your homework?  No presents for you until you eat this bowl of vegan, gluten-free tofu.”

BQB:  I think I know the answer already but I have to ask.  Why aren’t you as well-known as Santa?

KRAMPUS:  Ah.  Where do I start?  Rumor has it that Hitler had me banned.  I can’t confirm or deny that because we evil demons have to stick together, but between you, me and your 3.5 readers, I was such a shit heel that even the dude who was all like, “Hey, maybe shipping off six million people to their doom isn’t such a bad idea” heard about me and was all like, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Krampus!  Enough with the chains and the sack beatings already!”

BQB:  So it was Hitler?

KRAMPUS:  Eh, you could say that but really it was commercialization.  The gift and card industry.  Those advertising pricks on Madison Avenue.  I mean, really, around this time of year, whose face do you want to see on your box of cookies, or on your soda-pop bottle or on your television?  Me and my jagged razor sharp teeth of Fatty McGoody-Two-Shoes, what with his chubby angelic cheeks and his professor glasses and his red suit and his warm smile and his overall aura of, “Hey, you all do your best, so here’s some free toys and shit and you know what?  I’ll even let you naughty kids fool yourselves into thinking you were nice all year long because that’s just what the Grandpa of the World does.”

BQB:  Well, when you put it like that…

KRAMPUS:  There’s just no way I can compete with that adorable walking “Before Jenny Craig” model.  I might be getting soft in my old age because there are times when even I want to let bygones and bygones and give old Fatty McManTits a big hug.

BQB: Why don’t you?

KRAMPUS:  Eh, Mrs. Claus and I used to date.  Santa is kind of a dick about it.  It’s all very awkward. I’ve said too much.

BQB:  It’s cool.  Only 3.5 people read this blog anyway.  So what do you do with all your free time now that you have hung up your sack and chains?

KRAMPUS:  Oh, let’s see.  What don’t I do?  Yoga.  Knitting.  A little bit of crocheting.  Spin class.  Pottery Barn.  I can’t even get within five feet of a Pottery Barn without destroying my credit rating, let me tell you.

BQB:  They do have some nice stuff at Pottery Barn.  Krampus, that’s all the time we have and I’d like to thank you for this interview, but I won’t, because it was truly awful and will no doubt give my 3.5 readers nightmares, which they don’t deserve because they are all nice people.  Before you go, do you have any last words?

KRAMPUS:  Don’t be good because an obese, raging pizza addict at the top of the world will give you a free video game if you do, because he will give it to you even if you’re a total asshat anyway.  Instead, be good because you’re supposed to be good.  And if you’re good for the right reason, then good things will come to you throughout your life.

BQB:  Wisdom found in a surprising place.  Thank you for reading, 3.5 readers.  Good night and Merry Christmas.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,
Dec 05 2016
Leave a comment
TV

Saturday Night Live – Sump’n Claus

I’ve always laughed at this sketch.  Even if you’re too naughty for Santa, Sump’n will get you a little sump’n:

Tagged , , , , , ,
Dec 04 2016
8 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Gifts You Shouldn’t Buy Your Girlfriend for Christmas

Oh joyous Yuletide.  This is the time of year for couples to take a moment to let each other know how they truly feel about one another.

But men, no matter how loudly your girlfriend may shout her lack of interest in material possessions, if you leave a junky gift under her tree on Christmas Eve, then your tree will be incredibly lonely in the new year.

box-15718_1280

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Gifts You Shouldn’t Buy Your Girlfriend for Christmas:

#10 – Blender, Mixer, Iron, Washing Machine, Other Household Appliances

Hmm.  A dilly of a pickle here.  If she’s actually expressed an interest in a particular appliance, then go for it but only, ONLY if you also get her something else awesome in addition to said appliance.

EXAMPLE:

YES:

WOMAN:  I love to bake!  Baking is my life!  I wish I had an electric mixer so I could make more cookies!

MAN:  Here’s a mixer…

WOMAN: I hate you!

MAN: And a pair of ridiculously expensive earrings!

WOMAN:  I don’t hate you as much now!

NO:

WOMAN:  I never bake.  What the hell is this mixer for?  Are you trying to imply I should be a subservient kitchen slave, that my only purpose in life is to bake cookies to shove into your hideous, misogynistic caveman suckhole?!

MAN:  Um, it was shiny and on sale?

WOMAN:  Sleep on the floor forever!

Remember, in either case, and especially in the latter case, the household appliance should not be THE ONLY gift.

Come to think of it, even in the case where she REALLY wants that mixer (i.e. cooking/baking is her life and she keeps Rachel Ray on her DVR), you might want to wait until January just in case.  Make it look like you were just being thoughtful and it had nothing to do with Christmas.

Actually, you know what, just get her a bag of diamonds and a pony and a tiara and then if she really wants you to get her a household appliance of any kind, tell her that she’s going to have to submit that request in the form of a signed, notarized in triplicate letter.  Two impartial witnesses of upstanding moral character will also be required to confirm in a video that she asked for a household appliance.

#9 – That Damn Tub of Three Flavored Popcorn

It’s the ultimate gift you get when you get invited to a party held by someone you sort of like, but don’t really.

You know, I’m talking about that guy who you’re like, “Eh I’ve known him a long time so I don’t want to skip his Christmas party but if he gets hit by a bus tomorrow I’m not taking a day off for his funeral.”

Stores put these addictive snack canisters right out front over the holidays because they’re cheap and allow you to say that you cared enough to bring something to the party.

And yes, you did bring something to the party…THE GODDAMN HARBINGER OF THE EBOLA VIRUS!

People love popcorn.  Especially the cheese corn.  Or the caramel corn.  Or maybe you’re a buttery traditionalist.  Either way, by the end of that party, a minimum of five hundred and ninety seven hands are going to be shoved deep inside the bowels of that tub.

Statistically speaking, it will be highly unlikely that any of those hands will be washed, thus that three flavored tub of popcorn with Santa’s face on it will turn into a petri dish filled to the brim with bacteria, germs and contagion.

Bottomline – you don’t want to bring this tub to your worst enemy’s home, let alone your girlfriend’s humble abode.  Also, since those tubs usually don’t cost more than five bucks if that, your babe is going to think you are a big time cheapskate (as soon as she’s done being treated for popcorn induced Ebola virus).

#8 – Gift Cards

Yeah, I get it.  You realized this is all just one big giant mind game, so you flipped over the board, scattered the pieces all over the room and decided not to play anymore.

“Here babe.  I pay just enough attention to know what your favorite stores are but not enough to know what you’d want.”

Essentially, this is borderline treating your gal like a prostitute.  “Here’s a down payment on another year’s worth of nookie.”

I’ll just throw it out there though.  If you are confident that the gift you actually put time and effort into selecting will pass muster, than tossing in a gift card might sweeten the pot enough that she might (I stress might) forgive you if the actual gift you got turns out to be all wrong.

(SPOILER ALERT: Your gift will no doubt be wrong no matter what).

At any rate, like that mixer you got your baker girlfriend, a gift card can’t be the only gift.

#7 – Perfume

This is a real roll of the dice.  If she’s always raving about a fancy perfume, you might get her a bottle…but know how your girlfriend’s mind works (I know, that’s like asking a man to know how the atom is split or how the universe came into being, but give it your best guess).

Imagine yourself giving your girlfriend the perfume.  If you honestly can’t imagine her taking this gift as a sign that you think she stinks like a back alley dumpster, then go ahead and get her that trendy bottle of Eau du Ooo la la.

Otherwise, you might want to just skip out on this one.

#6 – Fitness Equipment

Exercise bikes.  Treadmills.  Weights.  Elliptical machines.  Even if she is a fitness nut and a professional athlete, she’ll beat you within an inch of your life if she comes downstairs to find a gift shaped like a paper wrapped stationary bike under the tree.

Seriously dude.  You might as well just hand her a card that reads, “I think you are a big fatty fat fatty so lose some weight or my magnificent junk and I are taking our business elsewhere, fatty.”

MEN: But BQB, she actually asked me for an exercise bike.  She feels this would help her with her regular fitness routine.  She’s even made a point of printing out information about her top bike choices for my perusal.

And I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn I’d like to sell you for a song, you big league sucker!

Do not buy your girlfriend fitness equipment, even with a signed, notarized in triplicate request letter, and even if she holds a gun to your head unless you want to be dumped like yesterday’s trash.

MEN: But BQB, if I don’t get her the exercise bike she asked for, she complain about it on Christmas.

“Honey, this diamond encrusted necklace is lovely but you forgot my exercise bike.”

Yes, she might hit you with that, but in that case, just tell her that you are an idiotic dumb ass man and all the various bells and whistles on the bikes were much too confusing so you got her a diamond encrusted necklace instead but you plan to take her to the bike store at her convenience so she can select her favorite one.

Why will you take this approach?  Because you’ll never win with fitness equipment, even with specifically asked for fitness equipment, but you also won’t win by pointing out that she’d be mad about getting fitness equipment because (follow me here) in the moment when she does not get fitness equipment, she doesn’t realize she’d be mad if she got it.  She would only actually get mad if she got it.  Since she didn’t get it, she just assumes you are a buffoon that didn’t listen to her.

You’re not getting out of this without some kind of black mark on your boyfriend record, but trust me, “buffoon” is better than the beating you’ll take after all her girlfriends work her up when they have a cry-in session and burn effigies of you while they take turns cursing your name and your decision to buy her fitness equipment for Christmas.

But if she doesn’t bring it up, you don’t bring it up.  (Just throwing it out there. That’s good advice on literally everything that will ever happen throughout your entire relationship).

#5 – Framed Photos of the Two of You

Adorable and says you really love the idea of the two of you together, but it can’t be the only gift.  If you decide to get this as one of many gifts in order to show you’re a romantic or something, be sure to pick a photo of her that she likes.  She must have said no less than three times that she likes the photo in question before having it printed and framed.

#4 – Electronic Equipment of Any Kind

Women don’t give a shit about giant TVs and HD TVs and HDMI cables and Xboxes and so on.  (Well, my Video Game Rack Fighter does but she’s a rarity).

She will instantly see this for what it is…a gift for you.

Speaking of…

#3 – Gifts That Are Really For You

Yes, it would be awesome to be the proud owner of an ATV or a jet ski or one of those frigging jet packs that you can take to a lake and user water to fly, but if you see yourself using it more than she will, then it is a gift for you and she will see through this.

Lingerie will also be considered a gift for you.  Unless she’s a Cinemax actress (that joke worked better in the 1990s) she probably doesn’t walk around in lingerie all day or think that putting on a skimpy outfit that involves 900 straps and snaps is particularly comfortable and/or a benefit to her wardrobe.

#2 – Animals

Personally, I’ve noticed a lot of women like animals.  Cats.  Dogs.  I’ve met a lot of women who are really into enormous, two-hundred pound dogs and whenever I meet such women I want to dress up like Dr. Freud and sit them down on my couch and get them to admit that they are really into enormous dogs because they see gigantic dogs as obedient men they can love and punish at will and on their own timetable.

Hmm.  That theory actually deserves a post on its own.  At any rate, don’t get your woman a pet.

First, maybe she doesn’t like pets.  If you give a person who doesn’t like pets a pet, they’re going to think, “Well, why don’t you just take a giant dump on every square inch of my home and save me the trouble.”

I mean, if she really, really, really wants a pet then you could get her a pet but again, you’re going to need the notarized request letter.  Otherwise, when the pet inevitably turns out to be a crazed, psychopathic furniture humping rug pooping nightmare beast, she will go on and on about “your brilliant idea” to buy a pet and all those times when she made googly eyes at that proverbial puppy in the window will be long forgotten.

In either case, whether she’s a pet lover or a pet hater, whether the pet was her idea or yours, you will be the asshole walking that furry little pooping machine at 3 a.m. in the middle of a rain storm so…just keep that shit in mind before you get that pet.

#1 – Jewelry, Flowers, or Anything, Really

You’d think jewelry or anything traditionally girly would be a safe bet but even this will most likely be frowned upon.  It might be your safest bet, but she’ll just view you as lacking imagination.

Come to think of it, that brings me to…

BONUS SECTION: THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN WIN

Yup.  There’s no way to win here.

Men are simple, logical creatures.  Want to make us happy?  Bake us a cookie and touch our disgusting nether regions once in a blue moon and we’ll be happy.

Sure, some of us like to rant and rave about how if only our current girlfriends weren’t holding us back, we could be with women who would bake us cookies and touch our disgusting nether regions 24/7 but literally only ten men in the entire world are handsome and/or wealthy and/or intelligent enough to actually make that shit happen in real life.

The rest of us have just given in to the grim reality that if we take enough abuse for long enough, our women might let us get a pity boob honk in once per presidential administration.

THE AVERAGE MALE EXPERIENCE:

1996: Bill Clinton – “I feel your pain.”

HUSBAND: Can we uh…

WIFE: (ROLLS EYES): Ugh, I guess so.

2000 – George W. Bush – “Strategery!”

HUSBAND: Think it might be time to uh…

WIFE: Ugh, just get it over with.

2004: George W. Bush – “Mission Accomplished!”

HUSBAND: Babe, isn’t it time to…

WIFE: Yeah, yeah just keep the light on so I can read my book.

2008: Barack Obama – “Hope and Change.”

HUSBAND: I hope to change that uh…

WIFE: Yeah, whatever.

2012: Barack Obama – “Look, here’s the deal.”

HUSBAND:  Look, here’s my…

WIFE: Ugh!

2016: Donald J. Trump – “Grab her by the…”

HUSBAND: What say I grab that…

WIFE: You’ve grabbed enough for twenty years, pervert!

At any rate, women are mysterious.  They have no idea what they want but they feel you should.  You can’t get them nothing.  You have to get them something.

But just keep in mind that whatever you get will be wrong.

Get her a house?  The shutters are the wrong color.

Get her a car?  She wanted a different one.

Get her an island?  She wanted an archipelago.

Damn women and their love of archipelagoes.

The point is that if you at least avoid the obvious pitfalls like fitness equipment, kitchen equipment and tubs of popcorn, then you have a small (very small) chance of preventing Christmas from turning into World War III.

Just do what I do every year.  I just lie down under the tree and curl myself up into the fetal position and when Video Game Rack Fighter comes downstairs, I throw my wallet at her and shout, “Please! Please! Just get yourself something and free my mind from this virtual hell!”

It totally works…to an extent.  Like I said, perfection is impossible and therefore should not be your goal.  Just try to do as little damage to your ability to get your disgusting nether regions touched once every four years.

Four more years!  Four more years!  Four more years!

3.5 readers, do you have any ideas on what to get a woman for Christmas?  Discuss in the comments.

Tagged , , , , , ,
Nov 30 2016
5 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Christmas Movies

Ho ho ho 3.5 readers.

Jingle bells, the Yeti smells, BQB is still in captivity.

But that’s ok because I have my ways of getting around the Yeti.

Did you know you can help rid BQB HQ of Yeti rule by following me on Twitter – @bookshelfbattle ?

theatre-marquee-568237__480

In the meantime, from BQB HQ, here are the Top Ten Christmas Movies, in no particular order:

10.  Scrooged (1988) – A Christmas Carol has been remade, rebooted, and parodied a ridiculous amount of times.  It makes sense because it follows a classic formula for teaching a main character the error of his ways.  For me, the best and funniest retelling was this Bill Murray comedy from the late 1980s.  Entertainment executive Cross follows in Scrooge’s footsteps by chasing money and working his way to the top of a TV network, only to realize he missed out on the love of his life Claire (Karen Allen) and not taking care of the people who have helped him along the way like Bobcat Goldthwait’s take on Bob Cratchit in the form of Eliot Loudermilk.

9.  Home Alone (1990) – Truly the most heartwarming film about child neglect, Kevin McCallister (Macaulay Culkin) left behind by his large family on Christmas and must defend the family homestead from robbers Daniel Stern and Joe Pesci.  Ironically, the sequel stars the 45th President of the United States.

8.  A Christmas Story (1983) – Author Jean Shepherd’s recollections of his youth come to life as Ralphie (Peter Billingsley) hounds his family into buying him a Red Ryder BB gun, despite their fears that he’ll shoot his eye out.  Hollywood embarrassed itself terribly by making a sequel you shouldn’t bother with.

7.  Bad Santa (2003) – Ever wonder if that person in the department store mall Santa outfit is a reputable character?  Billy Bob Thornton answers a resounding “no.”  RIP John Ritter and Bernie Mac.

6.  The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) – If Scrooged is the best version of the Dickens classic, then this is the second best.  Michael Caine as Scrooge.  Kermit as Cratchit.  It’s all good.

5.  Gremlins (1984) – You forgot this takes place at Christmas, didn’t you?  Zach Galligan and Phoebe Cates end up battling little green men over the holidays when a wise Chinese shopkeepers mugwai care instructions are ignored.  Never feed a gremlin after midnight.  (Isn’t it always after midnight somewhere?  Like what is the feeding window?  Isn’t 1 p.m. still after the previous day’s midnight?)  Check it out for Phoebe’s monologue about her Dad dressing up as Santa Claus and then getting trapped in the chimney and dying, thus ruining her yuletide spirit forever.  I have yet to figure out if this speech is supposed to be straight up serious or darkly comedic.  Maybe a little of both.  Gizmo…caca!

4.  The Polar Express (2004) – Breathtaking animation.  Tom Hanks animated as multiple characters.

3.  Prancer (1989) – A girl takes in a reindeer as her pet, only to discover…dun dun dun…that it belongs to Santa!  #mindblown

#2 – Die Hard (1988) – I don’t care what anyone says, this is a Christmas movie.  Truly the best underdog action hero story about a man who tries to make amends with his estranged wife by attending her office Christmas party only to end up having to save the day from German terrorists.  Yippy ki yay.

#1 – Christmas Vacation (1989) – This one is number one for a reason.  It really is the best Christmas movie ever made.  Others come and go.  I might watch them or I might not but every year I watch Die Hard and Christmas Vacation.  Shitter was full!

Did I miss your favorite Christmas movie, 3.5 readers?  Tell me about it in the comments.

 

 

 

 

 

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Nov 28 2016
1 Comment
Movies

Movie Review – Bad Santa 2 (2016)

Ho ho holy moly.  I can’t believe they made another one.

BQB here with a review of Bad Santa 2.

OBLIGATORY SPOILER WARNING.

The year was 2003.  George W. Bush was in the White House, the clubs were playing Fifty Cent’s In Da Club on a continuous loop (which frankly, they should still be doing even today) and a little Christmas comedy movie called Bad Santa turned out to be unexpectedly hysterical.

So naturally, in this age where Hollywood hasn’t had a new idea in awhile, they had to take another dip in the Bad Santa well.

Billy Bob Thornton reprises his role as Willie Stokes aka the worst Santa ever.  His diminutive friend/elf Marcus (Tony Cox) is out on parole after double crossing Willie in the original film, but now he’s back and recruits Willie to go on a new Christmas heist.

Even worse, Willie’s foul mouthed degenerate mother Sunny/Mrs. Claus (Kathy Bates) joins in on the action.

On top of all that, Thurman Merman (Brett Kelly) aka the dumb little kid who befriends Willie in the first film is back and dumber than ever.  He’s all grown up and totally an adult now.

Seeing as how I remember seeing this movie like it was yesterday,  I’m not sure which makes me sadder, that Thurman is an adult or that John Ritter and Bernie Mac, who both had big parts in the original, have since, and to my great dismay, shuffled off this mortal coil.

Time, you son of a bitch.

Back to the review, Christina Hendricks and her enormous boobs replace Lauren Graham of Gilmore Girls fame as Willie’s love interest this go around.

I have to be honest, while Christina’s enormous boobs are truly a spectacle to behold as well as a pair of national treasures, I really do believe she deserves a feature film role that isn’t about her enormous boobs.  Sadly, this isn’t it, though she does make the film worth watching.

The movie has its funny parts as well as a lot of scenes where it is clear the actors are just being called upon to be as gross and disgusting as possible.  As often happens in comedy sequels, the jokes that floored us the first time are repeated and though we’ve come to expect that, they just don’t have the same luster that they did before.

Where the crap did thirteen years go?  Holy shit.  Someone get in a damn time machine and pull me out of the Bad Santa 1 movie theater and explain the series of mistakes I need to avoid in order to not end up as the proprietor of a blog with 3.5 readers in 2016.

Just kidding 3.5 readers.  You know I love you and your seven eyes.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy, but partly because it makes me nostalgic for the original and partly because of Christina Hendricks (I should be clear and say that her boobs do not appear on screen.  Sorry. I know. Spoiler.)  Otherwise, I could take or leave this movie.  If you’re looking for adult themed holiday laughs, this is your movie.  If not, you can wait and rent it next year.

FYI I karate chopped the Yeti in the face just to go see this movie and review it for you, 3.5. You’re welcome.

Tagged , , , , ,
Oct 12 2016
Leave a comment
#31WaystoDefeataVampire, Uncategorized

#31WaystoDefeataVampire – Way #12 – Any Kind of Silver

By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire

shutterstock_115934428

Sure, you’re all aware that silver will defeat a vampire.

But did you know that it doesn’t have to be something made out of actual silver?

It can be something or someone that just has the word “silver” in the name.

Consider the following:

  • Pollster Nate Silver has, to the best of my knowledge, never been attacked by a vampire, most likely because his name strikes fear into the hearts of vampires.
  • Bing Crosby sang Silver Bells not to celebrate Christmas, but to ward off vampires. It worked. Bing Crosby was never bitten by a vampire (again, that I know of.)
  • The Lone Ranger always yelled, “Hi ho, Silver!” not to call his horse but to ward off vampires.  Also, because the horse was named Silver, he was never attacked by a vampire.

Change your name to silver. Wear silver clothes (have you ever seen someone dressed in a 1960s space costume get chased by a vampire?) or write a song about silver and sing it all day long and you will not become vampire chow.

How would you defeat a vampire? Discuss in the comments.

Tagged , , , , ,
Dec 25 2015
7 Comments
Christmas

Merry Christmas 3.5 Readers!

shutterstock_237801511

Bookshelf Q. Battler and Video Game Rack Fighter, East Randomtown’s Nerdiest Power Couple Wishing You a Merry Christmas!

Dearest 3.5 Readers,

A quick note to say thank you, for you, my darling 3.5 readers, are the wind beneath my wings, the hot fudge on my sundae, the dip on my chips and the reason I keep writing.

As I reach the home stretch of the One Post a Day for a Year Challenge, I realize I’ve learned a lot about blogging, self-publishing, social media, building a fan base and so on.

What I’ve noticed is that unlike other activities, blogging…very slowly but surely…does yield results.  Bookshelfbattle.com did better in 2015 than it did in 2014 and here’s hoping things just keep improving with every passing year.

Tell your friends so I can have 7 readers in 2016 and 14 readers in 2017.  Let’s double everything every year!

It hasn’t been an easy year, what with attacks from the Yeti, Dr. Hugo Von Science choosing a dark path and the zombie apocalypse that decimated my hometown but amidst it all, you fine 3.5 readers have been there for me.

Thank you 3.5 readers.  Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Whatever Holidays You Celebrate.

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Dec 24 2015
8 Comments
Things That Really Frost My Ass

Things That Really Frost My Ass – Christmas Edition

shutterstock_152049665

Happy Holidays from Uncle Hardass

Ho Ho Ho Ya’ Lousy Degenerate 3.5 Readers.

Uncle Hardass here to put some much needed coal in your mental stockings.

Now, I know what you hippies are thinking. “Oh, Uncle Hardass! You’re not going to take a dump on the joyous holiday season are you?”

Yes!  Yes I am!

Where do I start?  I’m not sure what spoils my eggnog more. Maybe it’s…

  • …the fact that Christmas gets celebrated earlier every year. Everyone takes off their damn Halloween monster masks and puts on a Santa hat. The last three months of the year are Hooray for Death in October, Hooray for Stuffing our Fat Pie Holes in November, and Hooray for Running Up Our Credit Card Bills on Shit We Don’t Need December. Before you know it, people are going to start celebrating the next year’s Christmas on Dec. 26.
  • …that I have to say nonsense like “Happy Appointed Nondenominational Religiously Neutral and Atheism Inclusive Festivity Day” just to avoid offending an unwashed hippy who should toughen up and get a job at the Salt Mines.
  • …people who post pictures of their Elf on the Shelf drinking a beer, puking in the toilet, smoking a cigarette next to a Barbie, or some other obnoxious pose. We get it. You’re very lonely and the likes you get on social media are your only means of contact with the outside world. Go on. Put the little guy in a pink Barbie car and have a police officer action figure pull it over, you scamp you.
  • …that I can’t get candy canes all year round. I love candy that tastes good and makes my breath smell like an elf fart. I should be able to buy candy canes in August. Oh wait, I can because CHRISTMAS STARTS EARLIER AND EARLIER EVERY FREAKIN’ YEAR!
  • …that people expect me to wrap presents. Why do you want me to wrap your damn present? Fancy paper does not bring any additional enjoyment to whatever useless piece of garbage I got you. If anything, it prevents you from getting to the useless piece of crap earlier. There is a delay in your ability to enjoy the crap equivalent ot the time it takes to unwrap the crap. The environmental hippies might be onto something here. One day when the Earth is doomed, the aliens who move in next will say, “It was because the humans had an entire season when they bought useless crap for each other AND chopped down entire forests just to cover the useless crap with paper that delayed their access to said crap.”
  • …people who a) wear ugly sweaters b) put their hideous pets in ugly sweaters and c) color coordinate their outfits with their pets. One day your home will be foreclosed on and you will wish you had all the money you wasted on outfits your dog did not want to wear.
  • …mistletoe. If you wanna kiss, then just pucker up. I’m a man, damn it and I don’t need a sprig of a plant that’s otherwise unseen the rest of year just to play tonsil hockey with some random bimbo at a party.  Sorry Gertie, but I’m dead now and I did say “Till death do us part.”
  • …Santa tracker apps. Inevitably, some jackass at the party will whip out his Santa Tracker and gush like an idiot, “Whoa boy, Santa’s flying over X third world country!” No, no he’s not. Santa’s sleigh doesn’t have an anti surface to air flare system and that fat bastard doesn’t want to get shot down when he’s mistaken for a military combatant.
  • …that people leave cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeer but they never leave anything at all for the elves, the only people in the entire organization that actually break a sweat slaving away in Santa’s toy factory. Just like everywhere else in the world, the working man goes unappreciated while dirty hippies enjoy the fruits of our labor.
  • …that people still insist on looking at Ebenezer Scrooge as the bad guy. Look clowns. Just because you start a business does not mean you are required to buy fat ass geese for all of your employees and fix all of their kids’ problems. They should consider themselves lucky you gave them a job and those three hippy ghosts should go occupy Wall Street or something. Shit, I’m a damn ghost myself and I have half a mind to visit Scrooge and tell him to keep up with his oppression of the downtrodden Victorian London era masses.  It’s good for them. Oppression builds character, I always say.

Maybe one of the aforementioned grievances frosts my ass. Maybe they all do. But 3.5 readers, do you REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT FROSTS MY ASS?

HERE IT IS:

Congratulations. You’re a parent. As if the world didn’t have enough to worry about, now the world has one more mutant spawn to suck up its precious resources.

You work all year. Well, some of you do. Most of you are just writers who scribble a bunch of nonsense then act like your memorialized thoughts and opinions matter to this godforsaken world, but I digress.

You worked and you saved your money. You went out and bought your little whipper snapper the latest toys, gadgets, and gizmos. You enjoyed doing it. You paid attention to what your kid wants and you went around to ten different stores to track down whatever piece of crap he wanted. With tender loving care, you wrapped all the toys up and placed them under the tree.

In short, you put a lot of work into making your kid happy.

So can someone please tell me why, WHY is it that I will be able to walk into any house in America and listen to the adults, who have gathered to watch the kids open their presents, say shit such as:

  • “Oh wow. It must be nice to have X piece of crap. I was NEVER lucky enough to have a nice piece of crap like that when I was YOUR age.”
  • “Oh, aren’t you spoiled? Look at all these presents.  Do you really need all this crap?”
  • “You got Y piece of crap too?  Sheesh, you got X piece of crap AND Y piece of crap. Do you know that when I was a kid my parents only got my brothers and sisters and I ONE piece of crap and we had to share that piece of crap and we considered ourselves lucky to have it?!”
  • “Look at that!  That is one top of the line piece of crap!  They hadn’t even invented crap like that when I was a kid. Oh I bet you don’t even appreciate all this crap ya’ little twerp.”

Look, 3.5 readers, and keep in mind this is coming from a guy named Uncle Hardass, so you know what you’re doing is f%&ked up.

Stop it with the passive-aggressive comments on Christmas morning about how your kids don’t deserve all the crap you got them. Even if you think you’re just talking to the other adults, they can hear you.

Honestly. You loved your kids enough to spend your time and money on getting this crap, you gave it to them so there’s a part of you that WANTS them to have it but then all you do is shit on them for having it.

You’re taking all your work and flushing it down the drain. If it really pisses you off that your kids have nicer shit than you did as a kid, then there’s a simple solution. Don’t get them the shit. Sorry kid, I didn’t get shit as a kid, so you shouldn’t get shit as a kid.

Sure, they’ll whine about it now but as adults, they’ll probably be more mentally secure people then the kids who grew up thinking, “Gee, I wonder if I deserve all this crap?”

Either that, or just be happy that you, despite the odds, obtained a level of success great enough that you can afford to buy shit for your kids that your parents weren’t able to buy for you. Call up your parents and laugh at them. Send them pictures of all the shit you bought for your kids and rub it in that you’re a better provider than they were.

Hell, if you even like the shit that much and are jealous of your kids for having it, then just go ahead and play with all those toys and shit while they aren’t looking.

Better yet, play with the toys with them. It might actually make you AND them happy.

What? You didn’t think your old Uncle H was capable of providing such heartwarming advice?

Just goes to show what you don’t know could fill an empty Salt Mine shaft, 3.5 readers.

So Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and listen, make a resolution to stop reading my dumbass nephew’s blog in 2016, will you?

Every time one of you losers gives him a hit he thinks he’s going to make it big and his ego just doesn’t need that kind of unmerited support.

Peace on Earth and goodwill to men, losers.

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Dec 23 2015
1 Comment
TV

Happy Festivus!

Did you know that December 23rd is the date that George Constanza and his family celebrated “Festivus” on Seinfeld?

Ever since that episode, I’ve always considered Dec. 23rd to be Festivus. So  perform the feats of strength then gather ’round the aluminum pole for the annual airing of the grievances.

What grievances do you have, 3.5 readers?

Tagged , , , , , ,
← Older posts
Newer posts →