Pop Culture Mysteries: Case File #005 – Smeller vs. Denier.
Or – He Who Smelt It, Dealt It vs. He Who Denied It, Supplied It.
This case stinks.
Pulitzer Prize, here I come.
And now…
Bookshelf Battle
The only site where new bestsellers are forced to do battle for space on a nerd's bookshelf.
Tag Archives: Comedy
Ask the Alien – 8/9/15 – A.H. Browne – Do Aliens Still Probe?
By: Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent
Plus 5, carry the one = get some more roughage in your diet.
Greetings Earth losers!
Earth losers, this is a very special edition of Ask the Alien.
Sometimes societies do things that are wrong and don’t realize those actions are wrong until years later.
It’s happened on your planet. Europeans arrived in the New World, declared it to be theirs, ignoring the natives’ protests of, “Hey, guys, we’re right here. We can totally hear you.”
To put it in perspective, imagine how P.O.’d you’d be if you were relaxing in your living room, watching some human sporting event, enjoying a beer and a pizza and out of nowhere, a European explorer plunks a flag down on your barca lounger and announces your crap is his crap now.
But I digress.
Aliens have their own sordid past and a question from science fiction author A.H. Browne of “Pouring my Art Out” causes this outer space traveler to rehash a dark time in my species’ history:
Actually, my first question was going to be; “Uh, you aren’t going to probe us, are you?” You jumped the gun on that one.
Indeed, I’ve addressed this difficult topic before, but since only 3.5 people read Bookshelf Q. Battler’s nonsense, it’s worth repeating.
Yes, it’s true. In the past, and for many, many years, our Supreme Overlord, the Mighty Potentate, commissioned a series of abductions, which were carried out as follows:
- Kidnap humans
- Insert probing devices in hind quarters
- Retrieve data on what makes humans tick, how they function, and what they had for breakfast
- Return humans to Earth.
- Spritz them with gin so NOBODY believes them.
- In fact, to make sure nobody believes them, we usually took eccentric folk in the first place. You know that guy at the bar who’s always babbling about how the government is reading his mind and cats are actually spies that report all of your activities to the CIA? Yeah, we’d usually scoop him up in a heartbeat.
Was probing our finest hour?
No, but we learned a lot about you and after 10,000 years of experience, we offer, in the name of peace and putting this sad chapter behind us, the full summation of our probing knowledge:
Eat more fiber. Seriously. You’re all backed up worse than I95 after a semi-truck rollover in the eastbound express lane.
Further, a public service announcement:
The Mighty Potentate cancelled the probing project over a thousand years ago. There has not been an officially sanctioned probing expedition since medieval times. If you want to know why the dark ages were full of angry people who were constantly hacking each other to pieces, it’s because they were so angry that we were probing the bejesus out of them.
But that’s all done now. Once we reached the limit of all possible data available through lodging roving robotic devices into human nether regions, the MP put the kibosh on the whole deal. After all, no one wants to waste their time watching something they’ve already seen. It’s like MASH. Why are the reruns still on the air? We get it, Klinger. You’re wearing that dress in the hopes the brass will send you home.
However, we do have some young aliens who don’t know any better. Your human teenagers range from 13-19. Our aliens have their young and dumb period between 100-1,000. I always say, “Boy, I hope no one thinks ill of me just because of some stupid stuff I did when I was 999 and didn’t know any better.”
Anyway, our younguns often get rowdy and their idea of a fun Saturday night includes:
- Flying to Earth
- Probing humans
- Teleporting cows to different locations, thus confusing the cow and the human farmer who’s left wondering where his cow went.
- Crop circles (the Mighty Potentate had once ordered these markings to show our shock troops where to land, but the hostile takeover was cancelled once your planet invented reality TV, thus proving to the MP that your species wouldn’t be a welcome addition to his empire.)
In short, if an alien demands to probe you, he does this without the Mighty Potentate’s blessing, and thus you may feel free to defend yourself from insertion of a Probe-o-matic.
Usually, all you have to do is state to the alien intruder, “I’m telling the Mighty Potentate on you!” and they’ll skeedaddle.
Ornery aliens always wise up once the possibility of vaporization is on the table.
Now that you humans no longer have to fear probing, might I suggest that you use your new found free time to read one of Browne’s books? For example, a lazy, opinionated janitor at an intergalactic Texas saloon becomes an unlikely hero during a spaceship hijacking in Saloon at the Edge of Nowhere.
Browne seems to have a good sense of humor, so the 3.5 of you who enjoy BQB’s scribblings will probably like this book too.
(Did I really get through an article about probing and not make a Browne/brown pun? I’m slipping.)
Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, on a mission to raise Earth’s collective intelligence levels one question at a time. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Tweet it to @bookshelfbattle on Twitter, leave it in the comments on bookshelfbattle.com, or stop by Bookshelf Battle on Google Plus. If he likes your question, he might even promote your book, blog, other project in his answer.
Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.
Pop Culture Mysteries: Fan Dime Drops – For the 3.5 (Part 3)
PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…
Part 1 Part 2
AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…
“Perhaps I was in the wrong to complain about this situation,” I said. “After all, being cooped up with the most beautiful woman in the world isn’t so bad.”
That would have worked on my first wife, Trixie, who was all looks and no brains. Delilah, on the other hand, was the whole package and that meant nothing but disappointment for yours truly.
“Do gain control of your loins and prepare for the next question.”
DELILAH: Mr. Hatcher, a Ms. Barb Knowles reported this dilemma:
“I have a question for Jake. Can he PLEASE find out how Robert Ludlum has published more books since his demise than he did when he was alive??”
Read Barb’s blog at saneteachers.com
“Who’s this gal?”
“A teacher,” Ms. Donnelly explained. “She writes about ‘the things they never taught her in teacher school.'”
“I don’t envy anyone who has to educate kids in this day in age,” I said. “Hell, even my kid brother Roscoe and I were known to drive the occasional chaulk jockey bananas back in our day. What tricks are kids pulling now? Whoopie cushions? Joybuzzers? Rubber snakes in the peanut brittle can? Tack on the teacher’s chair?”
“I suppose those are all things that teachers of today have to deal with now and then,” 
Ms. Donnelly said. “When they aren’t busy worrying about drugs and weapons coming into the schools.”
I coughed from surprise. One of many reasons why I no longer recognized the world I lived in.
“Sorry I asked,” I said.
I rubbed my thumb and fingers together, making the international sign for money.
“It’s all about the cash-ola,” I said. “The green stuff. The bread. The lettuce. The cabbage.”
“Yes, I understand, Mr. Hatcher.”
“An author’s readers are a form of currency,” I said. “They’re an asset and like a piece of land, or a house, or a watch, they can be transferred and utilized after the author’s demise. An author’s name is something his heirs can cash in on and before you’re quick to judge them, you should realize that you probably wouldn’t run in the opposite direction if some extra scratch was coming your way.”
I needed another puff.
“In Ludlum’s case, I bet there are some readers who aren’t even aware he’s gone. Folks just see ‘Ludlum’ and grab the book like one of Ma Hatcher’s prize winning flapjacks at the county fair. Other readers are aware but are happy to see stories set in a world they enjoy continue. And if you’re a writer, and a new writer continues spinning yarns off of a spool you built, don’t you still deserve some credit in the form of your name being slapped on the cover, albeit posthumously?”
“An astute deduction, Mr. Hatcher.”
“Who’s next, sweetheart?”
Movie Review – Vacation (2015)
Holiday Rohhh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oad.
Yup. I wasted valuable time and money to take in this movie.
OBLIGATORY SPOILER WARNING – though the trailer pretty much summarizes the best parts of the film:
Movieclips Trailers – Vacation
Oh Hollywood. Why must you continue to play it safe with reboots and sequels and so on?
Let me put it this way:
1) This movie doesn’t suck.
2) It only starts to suck when you start comparing it to the three original Vacation movies from the 1980’s that share this film’s name.
3) Though I can’t call it a guffaw-fest, there were a number of times where I did laugh.
The setup: Adult Rusty Griswold (Ed Helms), recognizing that his family is stuck in an unhappy rut, decides to pack up the clan and take them on a road trip to Walley World, just as his father Clark (Chevy Chase) did in the first film.
From there on, the film becomes a series of sketches, smaller vignettes that happen the family as they make various stops along the way.
Some jokes from the first movie are parodied or paid homage to (Rusty rents a Prancer, an Albanian car that far surpasses his father’s Family Truckster in suckage).
But to the movie’s credit, it pokes fun at itself, and an attempt is made to go off on its own rather than be simply a modernized carbon copy of the original.
Cameos aplenty, as I assume many of today’s actors have fond memories of laughing their butts off at a young Chevy Chase, as I do.
Chevy and Beverly D’Angelo make cameos as Grandpa Clark and Grandma Ellen. I feel like there might have been potential to do something funnier with them, but then again, had they been featured longer than they were, it’d of been a different movie altogether.
For fans of Community, it might be hard to not look at Chevy these days and think “Pierce Hawthorne.” Meanwhile, Beverly has definitely made some kind of supernatural anti-aging deal.
My favorite bit was the younger brother bullies the older brother routine. Every once in awhile, I’ll see that somewhere. It’s usually the older kid, who’s bigger, bullies the younger kid, but every so often you’ll see an older kid who’s polite and doesn’t want to hurt his miserable pipsqueak of a younger brother, even though he could totally knock him into next week for being a little jerk if he wanted to. That dynamic makes for some fun here.
As if there wasn’t enough in this film to make me feel old, Christina Applegate, who once played the uber hot Kelly Bundy in her youth (and who I oggled extensively in mine), now plays the uptight Mom trying to prove to everyone she’s still as fun as she used to be.
Oh time, please slow down.
Should you rush out to see it? Nah. Is it worth a rental when you have nothing better to do? Sure.
STATUS: Not shelf-worthy.
BUT – if you’re one of those younger people born with a cell phone in hand, you should check out:
Vacation
European Vacation
Christmas Vacation (I don’t know about you but I have to watch this at least once during the holiday season)
And though it’s not as good, Vegas Vacation.
Free Promo Do-Over – Free Promo Saturday
Oh alright.
Promote anything you want in the comments below all day Saturday…
…and you don’t have to swear fealty to the Mighty Potentate at all.
Just don’t tell him I said that. I don’t want to be vaporized.
(Those who do hail the Mighty Potentate will get a promotional tweet as well though.)
ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!
Gee whiz, asking your 3.5 readers to pledge allegiance to an alien overlord goes over like a lead balloon around here.
All Hail the Mighty Potentate!
Pitiful Humans!
The Mighty Potentate, always so happy.
The Mighty Potentate here, commanding you to address your inquiries to my emissary, Alien Jones!
“What’s in it for me?”
Ah yes! The first thing any human asks! Right after, “Can I take a selfie?”
Ask the Alien a question, and if he likes it, he’ll plug your books and blogs in his answer on this most irreverent of sites, bookshelfbattle.com
BQB will tweet it with his @bookshelfbattle handle and on his Google Plus page.
18 authors assisted so far.
Will you be next?
Do not allow the vile forces of reality television to win! Help Bookshelf Q. Battler push his and your fiction to keep all of our collective televisions free of absurdly produced, low quality unscripted programming such as:
1. Tuba Wars – Have you got what it takes to be the best tuba player in the world?
2. Falafel Truck Nightmares – A leading falafel vendor helps others bring their falafel businesses up to speed.
3. Narwhal Makeover – The ugliest half-whale/half-unicorns (they really exist!) consult with beauty experts.
4. Who Wants to Be a Chicken Wrangler? – Self explanatory.
5. Cooking with Preppers – Have you ever wondered if it’s possible to make a stew out of a boot? Find out.
Don’t be shy, lowly humans. Ask the Alien a question today and Bookshelf Q. Battler’s 3.5 readers can be yours!
Image courtesy of openclipart.org
Pop Culture Mysteries – Case File #004 – Snubbed
By: Jake Hatcher, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Private Eye
Pop Culture Mystery Question: Are Nicki Minaj’s claims of a VMA snub justified?
“You never should have come here.”
Women drivers…
A granite slab doesn’t make for a good pillow, but I was exhausted and it was the only thing around to rest my head on. I leaned back and stretched my legs over the green grass, noticing the tiny flecks of dew forming on the blades.
“I wish you’d of listened to me, kid,” I said as I took a pull from the forty-ounce not so cleverly disguised by a brown paper bag.
Yes, I was one of those people who drank during the day. Morning, afternoon, night. Time doesn’t matter when you don’t age.
“All this town does is put stars in the eyes of young dopes too stupid to know any better,” I said. “‘Shoot for the stars and you’ll land in the clouds,’ the dreamers say. They forget to tell you about the part where you might bypass greatness altogether and crash into the ground harder than a Mack Truck aimed at a brick wall.”
Crash into the ground.
Poor choice of words.
I ran my fingers over the engraving that marked the head stone:
Roscoe J. Hatcher
1925-1952
“You thought I didn’t want you in LA,” I said as I took another swig. “That I didn’t want you cramping my style. I was just trying to keep you away because this place is a haven for weirdoes and I didn’t want you to end up a two-bit bum like yours truly.”
I sat and sulked for awhile, interrupting my kid brother’s dirt nap with a one-sided conversation.
Suddenly, the sound of a finely tuned engine filled my ears. I looked up to see a cherry red 1955 Cadillac winding its way through the lonely cemetery access road.
The sporty little number came to a halt in front of me. Inside? An even sportier little number – the object of my misplaced affection, Ms. Delilah K. Donnelly.
“Are you lost, ma’am?” I asked as I sprang to my feet and pointed to the right. “Rodeo Drive is that-a-way.”
“Apologies for interrupting your lunch, Mr. Hatcher,” Delilah said as her baby blues stared at the brown bag in my hand in a most disapproving manner.
I attempted a save.
“Can you believe degenerate winos use this place to get smackered?” I asked as I threw the bottle into a trash can. “Found this lying on the ground and Ma Hatcher always taught me if I see litter I should pick it up.”
“I’ll pretend not to notice your rampant alcoholism so that we might steer our attention to a most pressing matter,” Delilah said as she popped the door lock.
“The nerd has another question?” I asked as I sprawled out in the passenger seat. It was nice. Comfortably and roomy. Not like the crap boxes they try to squeeze you in nowadays.
“Precisely,” Delilah said as she drove away. “And might I add a further apology for interrupting your mourning time.”
“No need,” I said. “Roscoe wasn’t much of a conversationalist anyway.”
As we hit the open road, Delilah turned on the radio. A nice classic station. Oldies all the time.
Legendary Jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald brought my mind back to the good old days. There was a gal that didn’t need a gimmick. Just a sweet tune about love and a set of superb vocal cords.
There’s a saying old, says that love is blind.
Still we’re often told, ‘Seek and ye shall find.’
So I’m going to go seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind.Looking everywhere,
Haven’t found him yet.
He’s the big affair
I cannot forget.
Only man I ever think of with regret.– Ella Fitzgerald, Somebody to Watch Over Me, Pure Ella (1954)
“You have good taste, Ms. Donnelly.”
“I’m aware, Mr. Hatcher.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Ms. Tsang said you’re known to visit your brother’s grave know and then. Perhaps it isn’t my place to pry…”
Ahh, here we go. Once again, Delilah acts like she doesn’t care, but then cares enough to ask.
“But I’m surprised you’d visit your brother at all…after what he did to you.”
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the breeze as air rushed all around me.
“People say there are some things that can never be forgiven,” I said, “But to them, I say they just haven’t lived long enough.”
“Time heals all wounds?” Delilah asked as she took the highway onramp.
“No,” I said. “Time just gives those wounds more of a chance to fester. But given enough time, you lose your ability to give a shit about them.”
“I’m not so sure I concur.”
Delilah sure had a lead foot. She steered us into the passing lane and floored it. It was like being chauffeured like a female Mario Andretti.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Ma Hatcher taught me never to swear in the presence of a lady.”
“It’s quite all right,” Delilah said. “In fact, your obscenity reminds me of our next case.”
Delilah adjusted the radio dial and the following lyrics invaded my ear drums:
This one is for my bitches with a fat ass in the f*%king club
I said, “Where my fat ass big bitches in the club?”
F%$k them skinny bitches,
Fu&*k them skinny bitches in the club
I wanna see all the big fat ass bitches in the motherf*%king club…– Nicki Minaj, Anaconda, The Pinkprint Album
I lit up a cigarette and shook my head.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “The nerd has me looking into pornography now?”
“Pornography?” Delilah asked. “This is one of the top songs of the past year.”
I choked on my own smoke.
“Get outta’ town.”
Anaconda and Somebody to Watch Over Me are Nicki and Ella’s songs, respectively.
The rest is Copyright (C) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler. All Rights Reserved.
Image courtesy of a shuttestock.com license.
Movie Review – Pixels (2015)
Hey parents! Remember all those video games you loved as a kid?
Well, they’re so old that they’ve become quaint!
Bookshelf Q. Battler here with a review of Adam Sandler’s action movie for kids, Pixels.
Even Pac-Man couldn’t gobble up the oncoming SPOILERS fast enough.
Movie Trailer – Pixels – Sony
Sometimes it’s hard to be Adam Sandler.
He wowed people in the 90’s with hits like Happy Gilmore and Billy Madison. Those are two films that are still quotable today.
(You’ve never told someone something they just said made no sense and everyone is now dumber for having heard it?)
But then he made a slew of lesser films that fell flat and now he’s the point where everyone expects his movies will suck.
To his credit, this one didn’t.
If you’re looking for highbrow entertainment, then you’ll probably think it does.
If you’re a parent looking for a movie to bring your kids to that won’t bore you to tears, then you’ll enjoy it.
As kids, Sandler (Brenner), Kevin James (Cooper), Josh Gad (Ludlow), and Peter Dinklage (Eddie) once competed in a 1980’s video game tournament.
Back in those days, the lads thought the world would one day be their oyster. Alas, they find life pretty disappointing as adults.
Brenner, who once dreamed of becoming a tech genius works at a Best Buy-esque home TV installation company. Ludlow has become a wacky conspiracy theorist who still lives with his grandma and Eddie? I won’t spoil it for you.
The only one who had life go his way was Cooper, but I won’t spoil that for you either.
Needless to say, the buddies who once believed their video game skills were useless in the real world become the world’s only hope when aliens attack using video game warfare.
Turns out, aliens aren’t that bright. (Don’t tell Alien Jones).
Footage of the video game tournament was sent to outer space as an example of Earth culture in the hopes that friendly aliens would discover it. Alas, the aliens take it as a challenge and develop real life versions of 1980’s video games to attack Earth.
Completely silly I know, but you’ll enjoy the special effects as Brenner and friends take on Centipede, Pac-Man, Donkey Kong and so on.
There’s plenty of celebrity appearances. Brian Cox plays a cranky American general and Sean Bean plays his British counterpart. Michelle Monaghan plays Brenner’s love interest/Army inventor of anti-alien video game technology.
Josh Gad steals the show with his antics until Dinklage steals it from him with his obnoxious, egotistical character.
Q-Bert becomes the Jar Jar Binks of the film but that’s besides the point.
Will you, as once said to Happy Madison, be dumber for watching this movie? Maybe. But if you suspend disbelief and silence your inner critic, you’ll be entertained.
But if you can remember a time when arcades were fun and popular, then you might want to skip it because you’ll be left feeling old…unless you’re feeling nostalgic.
STATUS: Shelf-worthy.
Pop Culture Mysteries Gets Back to Basics
Read the Fine Print Whenever Ms. Donnelly is Involved.
Happy Friday, 3.5 Readers.
Bookshelf Q. Battler here.
Among my many roles as Blogger-in-Chief of a blog read by 3.5 readers, I’m the boss of Pop Culture Detective Jake Hatcher, a hardboiled 1950’s private eye who sniffs out the answers to my questions about Hollywood and the entertainment industry.
Jake and I have never met in person. Rather, I prefer to dispatch all my inquiries through Attorney Delilah K. Donnelly, Lead Counsel for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.
It’s kind of a Charlie’s Angels situation. I ask the questions. Delilah delivers them. Jake hunts down the answers. By keeping Delilah as a buffer, I’m able to retain Jake’s services and he’s not able to strangle me until I spill the beans to the secrets I’m keeping from him:
How did he fall asleep in 1955 and wake up in 2014 and more importantly, how can he get back to his own time?
Yes, I can help him with both questions, but I’m stringing him along until he’s solved 100 cases.
Feel free to thank me, 3.5 readers. Sure, many bloggers put in a lot of work for their fans, but few are willing to extort a 1950s private investigator for your reading pleasure.
He’s gotten a bit carried away lately. He’s starting writing down recollections of his adventures of a gumshoe. I think they’re all interesting and worth sharing.
Two of his ideas in particular I hope to turn into self-published books, the profits of which I’ll keep because, you know, when Attorney Donnelly hands you a contract, you’d better read the fine print before signing.
Sorry Jake.
Anyway, the core concepts of this series:
1) I have questions about popular culture.
2) Referring to those questions as, “Pop Culture Mysteries” is funny.
3) A 1950’s hard-boiled film noir style detective complete with trench coat and fedora tracking explaining the answers to these questions in traditional/stereotypical noir style (i.e. longwinded exaggeration and lots of ridiculous comparisons) is funnier.
Planning of novels set in Jake’s world are underway, but before the noble trio of Jake, Delilah, and myself do anything, we need to get a few more Pop Culture Mystery Questions answered and into the can.
Jake needs a fan base before he writes a couple of novels. Otherwise, who’d buy them?
And how could I cut Jake out of the deal and use that sweet, sweet Amazon moolah to buy myself a Porsche?
Ah, don’t worry, 3.5 readers.
Behind that ice queen exterior, Attorney Donnelly often serves as the moral compass of this blog.
I’m sure she’ll twist my arm and convince me to share some of those book profits with our resident sleuth.
(I’ll need to keep some of it though just to pay Delilah’s latest legal bill though. Sheesh! Talk about billable hours!)
Don’t worry. Jake will get back to regaling you all with The Wrong Guy, the story about how he tracked down the killer of his buddy Lou the liquor store owner.
But first, I need to put him on a more pressing case:
The Nicki Minaj Video Music Award (VMA) Snub – Does Her Complaint Have Merit?
Before Jake pounds the pavement on the trail of this caper, I’d like to take an informal poll:
What say you, 3.5 readers? Is Nicki right? Did she lose out because, as she tweeted, only certain “kinds” of artists get recognized? Or, you know, should she just take all the money she made off of Anaconda and be happy?
Sour grapes or a star treated badly?
And what do you think about Taylor Swift and Katy Perry jumping into the fracas?
You tell me, 3.5. You tell me.
Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.
The Mighty Potentate Responds to the Discovery of Kepler-452b
By: The Mighty Potentate, Alien Jones’ Boss and Supreme Overlord of a Planet the Name of Which is None of Your Damn Business
ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!
Greetings, Pitiful Humans!
Alien Jones’ boss, the Mighty Potentate, here to respond to rumors vis a vis this fiasco:
Yes, your Earth scientists, who think they are all big and brainy but in actuality are about as witty as a Banji Beast’s Butt Burst compared to the legion of geniuses under my command, claim to have discovered an Earth-like planet, one potentially capable of sustaining life.
Let us address the question that has no doubt entered your minds:
Is this Alien Jones’ home world, the one I, the Mighty Potentate, rule over with an iron fist?
THE ANSWER: NO!
Muah ha ha! Foolish hairless apes. You really thought it would be that easy to locate a planet under the control of a being with a brain as copious and learned as mind?
Hilarious! The notion brings nothing but laughter to me. Ha. Ha, I say! Ha.
No, this is not my secret planet and therefore, your degenerate Hollywood executives should, UNDER NO MEANS:
1) Use this telescope contraption to beam your insipid reality television programs to my, er, this planet’s media viewing devices.
2) Build spacecraft capable of long range flight to deliver reality television stars to this world. I mean, it’s not mine, but seriously, no planet deserves an influx of reality TV. Keep it to yourself.
3) Develop more obnoxious reality TV programs in the hopes of selling them to the residents of this planet.
4) Don’t just start calling it a random name like Kepler-425b. Perhaps this planet has a much cooler name. I don’t know what it’s name is. Why are you asking me? I wouldn’t tell you if I knew it’s name anyway. It’s none of your business, losers. Seriously, just showing up to a place already inhabited, acting like you own it and can just move in, ignoring the beings that already live there. You humans have a bad habit of doing that, you know.
Whoever the inhabitants of this mysterious planet may be, rest assured had they wanted you poking your big noses around, they’d of invited you to do so long ago, pathetic humans.
Whoever the inhabitants of this planet are, maybe all they ever wanted was to kidnap and probe a few of you to find out what makes you tick (specimens were surely given right back) and make crop circles as practical jokes. No doubt a wise ruler put an end to those practices long ago, though some of his dumber subjects probably don’t listen.
What? I’m talking about some other planet. Stop asking questions.
In closing, REMOVE THE OFFENDING TELESCOPE CONTRAPTION FROM MY ORBIT IMMEDIATELY OR PREPARE FOR INTERGALACTIC CONQUEST!
Er, I mean, or don’t. I don’t care. Because that’s totally not my planet.
CEASE PUBLIC TRANSMISSION.
PRIVATE TRANSMISSION.
Not to be shared publicly with the worthless humans.
ALIEN JONES! You were ordered to keep the humans away! First, it’s this damnable satellite! Next, my TV will have nothing but “Bowling Alley Disco Makeover” and “Who Wants to Be a Barracuda Farmer?”
Double your efforts towards launching BQB’s writing career, Alien Jones! He and the self-published authors promoted in your Ask the Alien column are our only hope!
Fix this immediately, or it’s Welcome to Vaporization City: Population You!
End of Private Transmission.
Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Submit it to Bookshelf Q. Battler via a tweet to @bookshelfbattle, leave it in the comment section on this site, or drop it off on the Bookshelf Battle Google + page. If AJ likes your question, he might promote your book, blog, or other project while providing his answer.
ALIEN JONES’ GUARANTEE: If you don’t like AJ’s response, just let him know and he’ll file it into the recycling bin of his monolithic super computer. No muss, no fuss, no problem.
Alien image courtesy of openclipart.org
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