Tag Archives: funny

How to Get Rich Quick

Hey 3.5 readers.

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

People always ask me, “BQB, is there a way to get rich quick?”

I’m not sure why people ask me this.  I have holes in my underpants, for crying out loud, do I look like John D. Rockefeller or something?

Hard work.  Patience.  Sticking to your goals.  These are, in general, the often cited and well respected ways to get rich over a long, long period of time…usually such a long time that by the time you get your hands on that money you’re too old to enjoy it and you end up croaking and leaving it to your spoiled children who, let’s face it, won’t appreciate it.

But, ok.  I get it.  You want money now.  NOW!

So, I’ll level with you.  There is a way to get your hands on big time money at a young age, for doing very little work.  Zero risk.  Ultimate reward.

I’ll share this secret with you now, 3.5 readers.

If you want to learn how to get rich quick, click here.

 

 

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BQB is Back!

Wonderful news, 3.5 readers.

My special Valentine’s Day song moved Video Game Rack fighter so much that she took me back, allowed me to return to BQB HQ and has returned my glorious blog to me.  Also, she returned custody of you, my 3.5 readers.

Thank you for sticking with us during this tough time.  Every couple has their ups and downs, but it’s nothing but up from here on out.

Also, having to spoon with Leo McCoy in the Random Motel for warmth was truly a low point of my life.  Please don’t tell anyone.  This should be fine as only 3.5 people read this blog.

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BQB Continues to Be a Douche on Twitter

Hey 3.5 readers.  Video Game Rack Fighter here.

So, it seems as though there was an oversight on my part.  I got custody of this blog in the divorce, but I didn’t think about the social media accounts.

Ergo, BQB just went all Trump style on me:

Can you believe it?  Just when I was thinking about giving BQB back his dumb blog and, blech, even considering the possibility of (gag) getting back together with that nerd, he totally douches out on Twitter.

It gets worse:

And then there was this gem:

What a dingus.  Now I will never give his stupid blog back.

Do me a favor and follow BQB @bookshelfbattle on Twitter.  If you see him talking smack about me, let me know.  What a butt face.

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Top Ten Most Embarrassing Entries in BQB’s Private Journal

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Hey 3.5 readers.  Video Game Rack Fighter here, still angry with BQB for his douche-tastic behavior.

In fact, after being awarded BQB HQ, Bookshelf Battle Dog, 99.99% of BQB’s Beige Corp. paychecks and BQB’s action figure collection in the divorce, it dawns on me that BQB got out of this pretty easy if you ask me.

Therefore, from BQB HQ (technically, VGRF HQ now) in Fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Most Embarrassing Entries in BQB’s Private Journal.

Sidenote: if you get kicked out of your headquarters, be sure to take your private journal with you.

#10 –  I Can’t Get Enough of the Ketchup Girls

“Goddamn it.  I can’t get enough of the Ketchup Girls.  There were like the latina Spice Girls of my generation and they should really come out with more songs.  I have no idea what they are saying but they sure know how to make me shake my wonderful, apple shaped heinie.”

#9 – Buffy Fan Fiction is Way Better than Firefly Fan Fiction

“Got into a ten hour long debate on the nerd boards with some loser who thought that writing Firefly fan fiction is better than writing Buffy fan fiction.  What an idiot.  Everyone knows that my story about how Buffy and Faith get into a fight over me while I convert Willow from lesbianism with my machismo is the best piece of fan fiction ever written.”

#8 – Jaleel White Needs a Comeback

“I’ll never understand why Jaleel White isn’t raking in the Oscars left and right.  Sure, he played Urkel on Family Matters but he was so much more talented and versatile than that.  I wish Jaleel White would make a thousand movies so I could just watch them all day long.”

#7 – I Don’t Think My 3.5 Readers Really Love Me

“My 3.5 readers seem like they’re just phoning it in these days.  I wonder if they are cheating on me and reading other blogs behind my back.  Is it me?  Am I not pretty enough?  Should I try harder?  Maybe if I wore skinny jeans.  Sigh.  I love my 3.5 readers but sometimes I wish I had never started a blog in the first place.  It isn’t easy keeping the attention of 3.5 readers.”

#6 – The 2000s Suck

“I miss the 1990s.  I really do.  I feel like pop culture peaked in 1999 and it’s all been a downward spiral of crap ever since.  I wish I could live in an alternative universe where the Spice Girls, Nirvana and Gwen Stefani play on a continuous loop, dressing like a lumberjack is considered fashionable and the news stories are constantly about the latest broad that Bill Clinton boned.  This is the last time period I can remember where I felt like the world was a safe place.  It was all a downhill shit storm after that.”

#5 – Face/Off is the Best Movie Ever Made

“Face/Off was the best movie ever made about two men who trade faces using highly experimental face trading surgery.  John Travolta becomes Nicolas Cage and Cage becomes Travolta.  Awesome.  The only thing I didn’t understand was why did Travolta have the weight put back on when he traded Cage’s face for his own at the end.”

#4 – My Farts Frighten Me

“It was very quiet in BQB HQ.  So quiet you could have heard a proverbial pin drop.  Suddenly, I farted and the unexpected noise made me leap out of my chair.  I thought BQB HQ was under attack by an entire battalion of renegade troops until I finally realized the noise was coming from my butt.”

#3 – Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog is the Best Dog Ever

“Oh Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog, you are the best dog ever.  You are my furry friend for life.  I wish I could sit with you forever and braid your fur and just let all of the problems of the outside world just float away.”

#2 – The Yeti Isn’t So Bad

“Once in a blue moon, I admit to myself that the Yeti isn’t so bad.  He’s an epic butt face and wrong about everything, but he believes he is right and people and/or hairy beings who believe in something, anything at all, are a rarity these days.  I just hope he doesn’t find out I said this or else he will think we are friends or something.  I don’t want that to happen as I continue to despise yetis and all that yetis stand for.”

#1 – I Want to Create an Army of Super Strong Warrior Women to Protect Me

“Lucy Lawless aka Xena: Warrior Princess. Ronda Rousey.  Gina Carano.  I want to create an army of super hot MMA/Wrestling/Action Movie babes who will defend BQB HQ by day and then beat me senseless with their incredibly muscular vaginas at night.  I think Video Game Rack Fighter would be cool with it.  I would put her in charge of this army as I don’t know anyone else who has a more muscular vagina.  I mean, she can crack walnuts with that thing.  She’s really been going to town on the old kegel exercises lately.”

VGRF’S EDITORIAL NOTE:  OK, that last one was sweet, BQB.  But it doesn’t matter.  You will never get your blog back.  It is mine forever.

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The Real McCoy – Spooning with Bookshelf Q. Battler

By: Leo McCoy, the Man Who Once Delivered a Sandwich to James Van Der Beek

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Howdy doo, 3.5 readers.

Leo McCoy here with my first column for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  When Video Game Rack Fighter called and asked me to write for her, I immediately responded that I would check my schedule to see if I was busy.  Then I admitted I was lying because I haven’t been busy since 1998, on that glorious day when I delivered a sandwich to James Van Der Beek.

Oh how I remember it like it was yesterday.  Dawson’s Creek or “The Creek” as we 1990s people called, was the hottest show on the WB, next to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Oh, the WB was once a hot network filled with shows for 1990s era young people.

Although it was owned by Warner Brothers and thus they could have chosen any of the Looney Tunes characters to headline the channel (Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck, for example), they chose that damn racist frog.  You know the one.  “Hello my baby, hello my mammy, hello my rag time gal.”  Sorry, I can’t steal that joke.  That joke belongs to Dave Chapelle.

Anyway, I was a duly designated employee of a local delicatessen.  Got a call that a fella was looking for a Reuben sandwich, a bag of barbecue potato chips and a Dr. Pepper.  Diligent worker that I was, I ran it right over to the Random Motel, the number one spot for tourists to stay while they’re visiting East Randomtown and who should appear at the door but none other than James Van Der Beek himself.

Oh how handsome he was.  I’m not saying that in a gay way.  Any heterosexual man can surely appreciate the aesthetic features of a good looking man without wanting to touch his bits and pieces although, I can’t lie, the man was famous as all get out so had he asked, I’m not sure I would have been able to deny him.  Again, that’s not a gay statement.  It’s just a recognition of the power of celebrity.

What a golden haired Adonis he was, standing there with his flowing locks and flannel shirt.  Open with a white shirt underneath, as was the style of the day.  You weren’t anyone in the 1990s if you didn’t dress like Paul Bunyan.

“I’m sorry sir,” I said.  “But are you James Van Der Beek?”

“Maybe,” the man replied.  “What’s it to you?”

I then lifted up my shirt and handed the man a pen.

“Mr. Beek, sir,” I said.  “I’d be honored if you’d autograph my nipple.”

“Get lost, weirdo,” the man replied, before tossing the money he owed, taking the food, and slamming the door in my face.

Sigh.  My nipple remained unsigned, but I knew it was him.  I don’t blame Mr. Van Der Beek for wanting to lay low.  Had word gotten out that the world’s sexiest Dutchman was in town, he would have been swamped with fans and no one wants to sign the nipples of fans when they are hungry for deli food, let me tell you.

Ahh, on that day I knew life would never get any better.  I peaked so early that I quit my job at the deli and started waxing the stool of the Random Bar with my ass.  Same stool, same ass for nearly twenty years and I don’t regret a single day.  I accomplished what I was meant to do early in life and I’ve been waiting for the good Lord to take me ever since.

Now, as all 3.5 of you readers know, I have a rivalry with BQB.  People say Battler is the most famous man in East Randomtown because he started a WordPress blog with 3.5 readers.

Oh, whoopee.  Anyone can start a blog on WordPress.  Sure, even less people get 3.5 people to read their blogs but still, it can be done.  Have any of you ever a man that you were ninety-nine percent sure was the infamous James Van Der Beek, star of the most popular show about a teenager just trying to make it in the 1990s as an aspiring filmmaker whilst trying to win the love of the precocious Joey Potter all the while maintaining his friendships with bad Pacy Whitter and town slut Jen Lindley?  I think not.

Anyway, I’d like to thank Video Game Rack Fighter for inviting me to be a columnist on this blog.  I gotta admit, I’m getting a kick out of the fact that I get to blog on BQB’s blog while BQB is no longer allowed to.

Oh, you may have noticed in the past my last name was spelled, “McKoy.”  Yeah, that’s because I always wanted to be a rebel but now that VGRF has promoted me from bit player to featured cast member, I figured I’d switch to the traditional spelling.

Also, I’d like all 3.5 of you to know that even though BQB has been my longtime enemy and I despise him from taking away my position as East Randomtown’s most famous citizen by starting his stupid blog, I am still a Christian and thus I have gladly opened my room at the Random Motel to him for his use.

BQB needs a place to stay as Video Game Rack Fighter has been awarded 99.99% of BQB’s paycheck from Beige Corp.  That’s gotta hurt.  Luckily, I never married.  Marriage never interested me after I got a close look at Mr. Van Der Beek’s angelic face.  No, that’s not a gay statement.  Can’t a man just appreciate the statuesque features of a living god without being accused of gayness?

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” as Jerry Seinfeld once said.  You know, I was ten percent sure that I once delivered a pastrami on rye to Jerry Seinfeld but then it just turned out to be a guy who just said, “What’s the deal” a lot.  Oh well.  I suppose no one could ever be blessed with meeting James Van Der Beek AND Jerry Seinfeld in one lifetime.

Let me end this column with some questions you no doubt have:

Q:  Are you and BQB staying at the same room James Van Der Beek once rented?

A:  Yes.  On the same day Mr. Der Beek checked out, I sold my house for pennies on the dollar and moved into the same room and have never left since.  Also, I have been snaking the bath tub drain for twenty years in search of errant golden locks, the DNA of which might prove to all haters and naysayers that I did, most assuredly, meet James Van Der Beek.

Q:  Is BQB a good roommate?

A:  No.  He cries into his pillow all night over losing his beloved blog to VGRF.  Also, he misses VGRF.  I offered to dress up like her and dance around to make him feel better.  He said that would be gay but frankly, I don’t see how.  Ungrateful homophobic bastard if you ask me.

Q.  Why do you and BQB spoon?

A.  Partially due to the fact that there’s only one bed and it is very small.  Partially because the furnace in the Random Motel has been broken for twenty years.  Rumor has it that when Mr. Der Beek left, the Random Motel’s owner smashed the furnace to pieces whilst shouting, “This place will never get any hotter now that James Van Der Beek has left!”

Q.  Are you sure the owner did that?  Kind of sounds like something you would do.

A.  No comment.

Q.  Where does the yeti sleep?

A.  On the floor.  He makes for a fine throw rug.  Occasionally I put a blonde wig on him and recreate my glory days, or rather, the glorious day when I delivered a sandwich to James Van Der Beek.

Q.  Do you have anything else to say?

A.  Yes.  “I don’t want to wait…for my life to be over…until you realize that I’m more famous in East Randomtown than BQB…”  Oh James Van Der Beek, you are a national treasure.

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An Ode to My Vagina – An Original Poem By New Bookshelf Battle Blog Proprietor Video Game Rack Fighter

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Dear 3.5 Readers,

Divorce is never easy, especially when you’re BQB and you learn that you were married due to a legal technicality.  Divorce is especially difficult on the children, or in your case, the readers.

I know all 3.5 of you must feel some sort of loyalty to BQB but don’t, for he is an epic douche who peed on the toilet seat one too many times without dropping to his knees to apologize and beg for mercy, and he now he must suffer for the rest of his life as penance.  Really, it’s only fair.

I mean, I regularly took time away from my passion of playing Car Thief Mayhem to help BQB run his stupid blog, his stupid BQB HQ, and to even walk Bookshelf Q. Battledog and the Yeti.  So when you think about it, I really deserve to take everything and BQB deserves to live in a seedy motel for the rest of his days with Leo McKoy.

I feel like I was pretty generous in the settlement negotiation process.  Not only did I let Attorney Donnelly talk me into not calling for BQB’s genitals to be slammed in a steel door for the rest of his life, but I also let BQB retain custody of the Yeti.  So really, when you think about it, I’m the good guy here.

Things are finally going to be run differently around here.  I don’t know what exactly inspired me to cast BQB into a life of misery so I could fully recognize my full womanly potential.  I’m not going to lie though, I felt motivated as soon as I watched Ashley Judd give her deranged poem on the National Mall.

As Ashley ranted and raved about the blood stains on her bedsheets that weren’t her choice, I found myself shouting at the TV, “Yes!  Yes!  I don’t need a man! Bookshelf Q. Battler is the source of all my problems!”

Listen, don’t worry.  This blog has been missing a woman’s touch for far too long.  It will still be totally awesome.  Don’t listen to all that nonsense BQB spouted that under my watch, this blog will turn into a collection of daisy photos and vagina poems.

In conclusion, please enjoy this photo of a daisy…

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…and also this original poem I wrote about my vagina.

An Ode to My Vagina

An Original Poem By New Bookshelf Battle Blog Proprietor, Video Game Rack Fighter, May BQB Never Sully This Website With His Inability to Put Urine Into the Toilet Ever Again

Vagina!  Whoa, my vagina!

Giver of life and of mirth.

Is it the source of my inner-self?

Should it be the sum total of my self-worth?

Colin Firth.  Bridget Jones could do so much better.

Won’t someone write my vagina an appreciative letter?

Eddie Vedder.  Lead singer of Pearl Jam and to him

And any other man after my vagina I say, “Scram!”

Isn’t that the plan?  A world conquered by vaginas!

An end to rule by man.  Oh, vagina!

Sing me a song!

Give me respite from the days that are so long.

Dong!  Destroy anyone who has one.

And when that happens, my vagina will have won.

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My Side of the Story – Bookshelf Q. Battler

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Hey 3.5 readers.

A sad day in East Randomtown.  As my attorney, Ms. Donnelly, has notified you, VGRF and I are done, over, kaputsville.  Even worse, I have lost the Bookshelf Battle Blog, BQB HQ, Bookshelf Q. Battledog, and my action figure collection in the divorce, which, by the way came as a big surprise to me because I didn’t even know that VGRF and I were married.  Thanks Obama.

So this will be my last post.  This was a site for manly nerds and no, that’s not an oxymoron.  Now I can only assume that Video Game Rack Fighter will turn this fine website that I have spent three years of my life building into an online repository of daisy photos and vagina poems.  I mean, I don’t know that for sure, but I can only assume that most women spend 99.99% of their time looking at photos of daisies and writing poems about their vaginas.

It all started when I left one errant pee sprinkle on the toilet seat.  Totally wasn’t intentional.  It’s not like I meant to.  When VGRF brought it to my attention, I immediately dispatched the Yeti to clean it up.  I don’t know why, but the Yeti is into cleaning up weird messes.  I don’t know why.  I don’t ask.

But Video Game Rack Fighter was all like, “Well, you made the mess so you should clean it up and not make the Yeti do your dirty work” and I was all like, “Who cares?  He’s just a stupid yeti” and then she was all like, “It doesn’t matter.  You should take responsibility.”

So then I was all like, “You know, I don’t give you this much shit over the giant toe nails that you clip and just leave strewn all over BQB HQ.  This is a place of online blog business yet everywhere I go I’m stepping on toenails the size of Fritos!”

At that moment, I was reminded that it is impossible to win an argument with a woman because VGRF gave up on having any kind of rational discussion and proceeded to round house kick me in the face repeatedly until I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the Random Motel with my freaking archenemy Leo McKoy of all people as a room mate.

By then, Attorney Donnelly had worked out the details of the divorce I had to a woman I didn’t even know I was married to and I don’t know how but I’m still blaming this on Obama.

Part of me is mad that Ms. Donnelly didn’t get me a better settlement, one that would have allowed me to retain BQB HQ and the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  Then again, part of me thanks her for keeping me from suffering VGRF’s first bid, namely, that I end up with my genitals slammed in a steel door repeatedly for the rest of my life.

Women always have to go right for the junk, let me tell you.

So I guess that’s it.  I’m stuck as Leo McKoy’s roommate indefinitely.  Probably forever because, did you hear this?  I have to also pay VGRF 99.99% of the paycheck I earn from Beige Corp.  I don’t know why.  It’s not like VGRF is getting up every day and assisting people who assist people who assist the people who sell beige products and accessories.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get to post again, 3.5 readers.  VGRF’s settlement calls for me to be shot out of a high velocity cannon and directly into the sun if I post on this blog again.  Yeah, part of me was surprised that the court system approved that part and then again, part of me wasn’t surprised at all.

I haven’t decided yet but I might ditch Leo and explore the universe with Alien Jones for awhile.  I asked him over the space phone if he would like to be intergalactic roommates but all he did was make a few staticky noises with his mouth then say, “Um…sorry…the space phone is breaking up…bzzt bzzzt….talk to you later…”

Poor guy really needs a new space phone.

Thanks for the memories, 3.5.

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Bookshelf Battle Blog Under New Management

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Good Day, 3.5 readers.

Lead Counsel for Mr. Battler, Delilah K. Donnelly here.

It is my unfortunate duty to inform all 3.5 of you that Mr. Battler and his longtime girlfriend, one Miss Video Game Rack Fighter, have split up over irreconcilable differences.

Although terrible news, this normally would not be a matter of legal concern.  However, as it turns out, Ms. Fighter was an incredible legal researcher and was able to convince a court of law that by virtue of East Randomtownian Law, she and Mr. Battler had established a common law marriage by living together in sin for so long.

After an intense, seventy-eight hour negotiation session, a divorce agreement was reached and the property of the Bookshelf Battle Blog shall be divided as follows:

  • BQB HQ – Goes entirely to Ms. Fighter in recognition of the two years she lived there, even though Mr. Battler lived his entire life there and it was gifted to him by his beloved Aunt Gertie.
  • The Magic Bookshelf – Goes to Mr. Battler as Ms. Fighter views it and the characters who live it as little more than a nuisance.
  • Ms. Fighter’s Video Game Rack – Entirely to Ms. Fighter, though Mr. Battler may borrow her copy of Car Thief Mayhem once a month but only if she is not playing it.
  • Mr. Battler’s Action Figure Collection – Entirely to Ms. Fighter, not because it has any monetary value but because Mr. Battler believes that he will not be able to attract anyone with a vagina if he retains it.
  • Mr. Battler’s Collection of Used Whoopie Cushions and Rubber Chickens – To Mr. Battler in an effort by Ms. Fighter to show that she is not a total monster.
  • Mr. Battler’s Vintage 1990s Pornographic Magazine Collection – Sold at public auction and distributed evenly between the parties.  Now the property of ex-mayoral candidate Leo McKoy, who has been known to enjoy photos of half-naked women wearing nothing but flannel lumberjack shirts and hair-dos reminiscent of Rachel from Friends.  Mr. McKoy’s only public comment on the matter was, “I’ll be there for you…ugh.”
  • Alimony – Ms. Fighter retains the right to garnish 99.99% of Mr. Battler’s earnings as an assistant to the assistant of the vice-president for corporate assistance at Beige Corp., the world’s premiere producer of beige products and accessories.
  • Bookshelf Q. Battledog – Full legal custody with Ms. Fighter.  Court supervised visits for Mr. Battler every third leap year.
  • The Yeti – Full legal and physical custody to Mr. Battler.  Ms. Fighter will be within her rights to sue for mental pain and suffering if Yeti visitations are attempted.
  • Alien Jones – Retains his position as Mr. Battler’s intergalactic advisor.  Will continue to nag Mr. Battler until he writes a novel that inspires the masses to abandon reality television so that the Mighty Potentate will not conquer the planet.
  • Dr. Hugo Von Science, Uncle Hardass, Vinny Baggadouchio, Search Engine Optimized Poet, Nerdstradamus and Other Assorted Bookshelf Battle Blog Columnists – Will now be employees of Ms. Fighter.
  • The Bookshelf Battle Blog – Full ownership goes to Ms. Fighter.  Mr. Battler will no longer be allowed to post on penalty of being shot into the sun via a high velocity cannon.  Ms. Fighter will be able to post whatever she wants.
  • Mr. Battler’s 3.5 Readers – Now the property of Ms. Fighter.  They are not allowed to read anything written by Mr. Battler under court order.

LEGAL CONCLUSIONS

This is indeed a horrendous development, 3.5 readers.  Mr. Battler did so enjoy posting for your enjoyment, and even when you did not enjoy it, which by my understanding was most of the time.

I understand that you know me as one of the finest attorneys in the land and therefore you may wonder how Ms. Fighter was able to reach such a one-sided settlement.  All I can say is, she started high and sold low.  The alternative to this agreement was that Mr. Battler would have been required to slam his genitalia in a steel loading dock door from now until the end of his life and record every slam and post the footage on YouTube.

All things considered, I’d say Mr. Battler got off easy.

As for Detective Dashing and myself, Ms. Battler has issued no decrees as to whether or not she will utilize our services at this time.  As far as I am concerned, I shall remain Mr. Battler’s attorney until further notice and will continue to advise him as he begins his new life in the roach infested Random Motel, East Randomtown’s premiere pay-by-the-hour lodging resort.

Mr. Battler thanks you for being his 3.5 readers and asks that you do not weep for him, for, as he bravely put it, “It was better to have had 3.5 readers and lost them than to never have had 3.5 readers at all.  Also, Video Game Rack Fighter Sucks Yeti Butt.”

His words, not mine.  I do not say such vulgarities.

Enjoy the rest of your day, 3.5 readers.

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Top Ten Pieces of Investment Advice

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Ahh, money.  It makes the world go round, doesn’t it?  You know they say money can’t buy love, but if you ask me, those losers have never tried it.

Love it or hate it, you’ve got to have a base line amount of it to make a go of it in this world.

Stocks?  Schmocks.  Savings?  Schmavings.  There are plenty of investment advice blogs out there, written by, you know, people with investment credentials and shit.

My advice will get you absolutely nowhere fast and my lawyer urges that you not follow it at all.

Stupid lawyers.  Always the buzzkill.

Anyway, from BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, MA, here are BQB’s Top Ten Pieces of Investment Advice:

#10 – Buried Treasure

Withdraw your cash, stick it in a tin box, wrap it in plastic wrap and bury it in the backyard.  If the worms, gophers and weather don’t destroy it, you’ll have a fun time digging the shit out of your yard when you do actually need it.  Don’t forget to draw yourself a map that you won’t understand in the future and/or will most likely lose anyway.

#9 – Electronics

Stock up on cell phones, computers, etc.  They aren’t making any more of that shit.  It’s not like they aren’t coming out with a new updated version of your phone every three months.  Oh, wait.  They are?  Sorry.  You are the owner of a crate full of useless phones now.

#8 – Gold!

That crusty old bastard William Devane is always telling me to buy gold in those TV commercials and damn it, if you can’t trust a man who played the president in a season of 24 as well as The Dark Knight Rises then who can you trust?  Eh, in theory, and I’m totally spouting shit out of my ass here, a little bit of gold in your safe might not be a terrible idea.  I’m sure super rich actors, celebrities and politicians all have a bunch of frigging gold bars stored somewhere in case the economy collapses and chaos reigns supreme.  My gut tells me not to buy more than I can afford to lose though because, you know, there are thieves about and I have so much to do that I don’t have enough time to sit around BQB HQ with a shotgun just to ward off gold thieves.

#7 – Pez

I believe Nerdstradamus when he says that Pez will be the currency of the future.  Buy up all the little candy bricks and cartoon dispensers you can so you can be rich as all get out in the future.

#6 – Time Shares

It’s a home that you own for a week a year!  What could possibly go wrong?

#5 – Join a Tontine

It’s simple.  You and your friends put all of your money in a big concrete box and bury it or hide it somewhere.  Then, you all live your lives and the last one who dies gets the money.  Just, you know, don’t be a dick and kill all your friends.  And don’t join up with friends who are dicks.  You know what? Just don’t do this.

#4 – IOUs

Every time you buy something extravagant that you don’t really need, write an IOU to your future self.  Don’t worry.  You’re good for it.

(SPOILER ALERT:  You’re not good for it).

#3 – Loan Sharking

The good news?  You can “help” people by lending them money with usurious, ridiculously high interest rates attached.

The bad news?  A) It’s illegal and B) You’re going to have to break some legs.  You don’t want to break legs.  You’re too nice and also it makes a terrible mess.  My lawyer and I don’t advise you to do this at all.

#2 – Farts in Jars

In the future, man will evolve into a butt-less species.  Thus, you should shoot every toot into a jar and store those jars in your basement so that one day, when a butt-less society becomes nostalgic for fart smells, you can clean up.

Note that if this does not happen before you grow old and die, the grandchildren you leave behind to clean up your house will think you were insane.

#1 – Wise, Prudent, Solid and Cautions Savings and Investing Plans

Invest wisely in solid, reputable mutual funds, savings accounts, IRAs and so on.  Seek the advice of competent investment professionals.

I mean, you could do all that shit but will that be as fun as going on a treasure hunt and/or farting in jars?  I think not.

REPEAT:  My lawyer and I urge you to not waste your money doing any of the horrible things mentioned in this ridiculous blog post.  Really, you should be ashamed of yourself for even reading it.

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Top Ten Reasons Why Your Breath Stinks

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Ahh, the face hole – the best and the worst of human body cavities.  It lets us talk and eat, but at times, it can also smell like a butt, aka the worst of body cavities.

Does your breath stink?  I’m not a dentist but I play one on this blog.  From BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Reasons Why Your Breath Stinks:

#10 – Throat Gremlins

Sad, but true, tiny creatures have been known to set up shop in a human throat and party hearty.  Soon, they start to stink and that stink comes out of your pie hole.  Ten out of ten scientists who attended science school in Barbados will agree with me on this.

#9 – Demonic Possession

It happens.  You’re taking a nap, minding you business and without realizing it, a damn demon has set up shop in your body.  It makes you scream, swear, belch, fart, projectile vomit on everyone, it’s a whole mess.  Even worse, they make your breath stink.  Consult your local Catholic priest for assistance.

#8 – A Small Animal Crawled Into Your Mouth and Died

People often say, “Yeesh!  What crawled into your mouth and died?” to a person with stank breath.  Little do these people know that this often happens.  Mice, rats, bats, porcupines, armadillos, frogs, lizards.  It doesn’t even have to me a small animal.  I knew a dude who once fell asleep and a damn emu crawled into his mouth and bought the farm.  Always post signs around your sleeping area to notify animals on their last legs to go find another mouth to crawl into and die in because yours is off limits.

#7 – Oniony, Garlicky Foods

Truly, a Sophie’s choice.  Do I want to eat something delicious or do I want to avoid stink breath?  Eh, just be honest.  If you look like a butt, then you might as well eat something delicious and smell like a butt.  Having minty fresh breath won’t make you look less like a butt.

#6 – Butt Pranks

If you’re a member of a frat, chances are one of your frat brothers has placed a butt on your face while you are sleeping.  Remember, always lock your door and wear a catcher’s mask while sleeping to avoid butt pranks.  We here at the Bookshelf Battle Blog do not condone butt pranks or any other type of inappropriate butt related behavior of a butt like nature.

#5 – You Licked the Toilet Seat Again, Didn’t You?

How many times must I tell you to stop doing that?  Bad reader.  Bad, bad!  Get some help.

#4 – You Don’t Brush

There’s no magic cure for weight loss or to fix a variety of health problems, but sticking that brush in your face hole and wiggling it around for a while a few times a day can do wonders for your tooth health.  Take advantage of one of the few things that people can do to improve there lives that actually works.

#3 – You Don’t Floss

Your job isn’t done after brushing.  Brushing doesn’t get all the shit left between your teeth.  One time I didn’t floss my teeth for an entire year and learned that in the interim, the mob had started using the spaces between my choppers as a dumping ground for whacked snitches.  When I finally began flossing again, each time I’d stick the floss between my teeth and boom!  Hey, it’s Vinny Boombotz!  :::Floss::: Hey! It’s Mickey the Squirrel!  :::Floss:::  Oh my God, it’s Sal the Tuna!

#2 – You Don’t Use Mouth Wash

Brush, floss, then finish up the trifecta.  Get mouthwash.  The stronger the better.  I prefer Listerine.  Don’t just do one swish and spit it out.  Let it sit there in your mouth as you imagine the mouthwash molecules all look like a young Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now.  Picture each molecule as a helicopter pilot coming in to drop minty fresh napalm on all of the germs in your suck hole.  “Oh, how I love the smell of minty fresh napalm in the morning.”

Um…if one of my 3.5 readers is Vietnamese I apologize for that metaphor.  I didn’t even write it.  It was the Yeti.

#1 – You Never See the Dentist

I know.  No one enjoys going to see the dentist.  But these fine tooth doctors can clean up your choppers, shine them up good and help you combat any suck hole related problems you may be suffering from.  Stop avoiding your dentist.  Your suck hole will thank you, as will the people who have to breathe the air in the vicinity of your suck hole.

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