Tag Archives: funny

Movie Review – Bad Moms (2016)

Oh those wacky moms.

So many vagina jokes, so little time.

BAD SPOILERS.

BQB here with a review of Bad Moms.

I’ve been looking forward to this one for awhile now because the trailer looked hilarious. Rarely does a movie live up to a good trailer but this one does.

The setup – Amy (Mila Kunis) struggles to be a top notch mom.  She juggles work, taking care of the kids, the house, the dog, getting everyone to all of their activities and still finding time to volunteer for the PTA.

Blah blah blah…it all becomes too much when super perfect mom/PTA president Gwendolyn (Christina Applegate) and her flunkies (Jada Pinkett-Smith and Annie Mumolo) become Nazi moms – i.e. the moms that have all sorts of rules (the highlight being a detailed power point presentation on what ingredients are allowed in treats sold at the school bake sale along with punishments for those who don’t comply.)

Long story short, Amy and friends Carla (Kathryn Hahn) and Kiki (Kristen Bell) decide to be…wait for it…”bad moms.”

Get it? That’s why they called the movie Bad Moms…because they decided to be bad at motherhood.

I don’t want to ruin it by getting any further into detail.  Lots of funny R rated material. Abundant jokes about male and female anatomy. Musical montages in which they openly disobey PTA rules by purchasing sugary snacks and so on.

There’s definitely a lot of social commentary throughout.

Some things I noticed:

  • Millenials jumped over Generation X without waiting their damn turn. I complain about this constantly myself.  Also, that millennials just lump all the generations that came before them together.  Case in point – Amy’s boss is a dopey 20 year old who is convinced Amy is part of “the Greatest Generation.”
  • People downgraded to part-time.  Companies downsizing jobs to part-time status has been in the news a lot lately. Amy suffers the same problem.
  • No one respects marriage anymore.  Her dopey husband is caught cheating on her and makes it out like it’s no big deal and she’s being uptight.
  • Kids start worrying about what college they’ll go to at twelve now.
  • Parents aren’t allowed to tell their kids no or to tell them to shape up or stop being little jerks when they act jerky or what have you.
  • Of course, the overall theme is to show what the average working mom goes through.    Between work, taking care of kids, volunteering at their school and all kinds of other stuff, life becomes one big juggling act where moms are frantically running from one thing to the next and feeling like there’s never enough time for everything.  So give those moms a break, will you?

Anyway, lot of laughs. I had a good time.  It makes me sad that Christina and Mila, who were once the teenage daughters in Married with Children and That 70’s Show, respectively, are now old enough to be playing moms who go to mom war against each other.

Oh well. Time marches on. It’s tough for us old folks in the Greatest Generation.

But seriously, it is an issue I’ve brought up to the 3.5 readers of my blog so many times, so I was so happy to see the “Millenials think anyone born before 1990 must be a hundred years old” issue in a movie.

I thought it was just me and I was the only one who’d noticed. It was worth going just for that.

OK. I’ll stop sounding like an old crank now.  Get off my lawn.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy.  Theater worthy, though the laughs would be good as a rental too.

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42 Condoms for Every Olympian

I read an article that every Olympian at the Olympics in Brazil is being given 42 condoms to prevent the spread of the Zika virus.

I have many questions.

  • 42? Really? Look I get it. You’re all young and in good shape. You all have a certain amount of fame, some more than others given what sport you’re in. But holy shit.  Don’t you need to be spending some time practicing your shot puts and javelin throws and thirty meter dashes and all that shit?
  • Who decided 42?  Why not 40?  Who thought of 40 and then was like “Well, better throw in two more!”
  • Why not 25?  I mean really, if you’re getting that much you must have some things going for you and at that point you must be able to afford your own condoms.
  • Is this where we’re at now? AIDS isn’t enough to worry about? Now we have to worry about a disease passed by a mosquito bite and then it can be passed further when people dance the horizontal mambo?  Crap. Holy Crap. It’s like there is a grand conspiracy to keep people from doing it.  I blame the mosquito lobby. Big mosquito most be stopped.
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Hello Nerds

What’s going on today? I guess I’m pretty engrossed in writing my books so I have no other entertainment for you today.

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How the West Was Zombed – Epilogue

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Wisconsin

The hunter was a sturdy man with brown hair and a mustache. His spectacles made him look like he belonged in a library yet his frame was built for the frontier.

A rainstorm earlier that day turned the forest floor to mud. He trudged along for awhile until he saw it – a fresh bear track.

He knelt down and examined it. “Hmm. Yes.”

He pushed a finger into the dirt then sniffed it. “Fresh. You couldn’t have gotten far you rapscallion.”

The hunter rose to his feet and pressed on, deep into the forest, rifle in his hands at the ready.

Surrounded by nature, he felt at home. At peace. He stopped momentarily to close his eyes and allow the fresh air to fill his lungs. Alas, his respite was interrupted.

“Master Roosevelt!” called an old man. “Master Roosevelt!”

Disgusted, Roosevelt did his best to ignore his unexpected visitor and followed the line of bear tracks.

“Master Roosevelt!” the old man called. “Please take pity and slow your pace, sir!”

Roosevelt did no such thing. Eventually, the old man caught up to him and huffed and puffed as he struggled to keep up.

“How did you even find me, Humphrey?” Roosevelt asked.

“Your esteemed father, sir,” Humphrey answered. “He bid me to find for you and not to dare show my face at your family’s estate until I do so. I’ve made inquiries at every trading post and tavern in the vicinity until I finally met some fur traders who did some business with you and pointed me in this direction.”

“Blasted Frenchmen!” Roosevelt said. “And what news do you bring, man?”

Humphrey withdrew a crinkled up piece of paper from his pocket and started to read. “A letter from your father, sir. Dear Theodore…”

“Summarize the most salient points,” Roosevelt said.

“In short,” Humphrey said. “Your father bids that you cease these adventures that you are always going on, that you stop, and I quote, ‘trying to be the wild jungle man from Borneo’ and come home to take your place at the family business as you were always meant to.”

“Balderdash!” Roosevelt cried. He stopped, which provided Humphrey with great relief, as he needed a rest. “Look around you, Humphrey. Have you ever seen a land as beautiful as this?”

“It was beautiful for the first few moments, sir,” Humphrey said. “But between the multiple blisters on my feet and voluminous insect bites on my person, I must say the beauty has lost its appeal to me.”

Much to Humphrey’s chagrin, Roosevelt started walking again. Humphrey continued his pursuit.

“Well, you’ll just have to disappoint him, Humphrey,” Roosevelt said. “For I shall never return to New York. My home is here in the great outdoors.”

“Master Roosevelt,” Humphrey said. “Most assuredly, it is beyond my lowly station to say this but I have served you since you were a mere babe so might I inquire, am I wrong in feeling that you and I have a rapport that would allow me to speak freely?”

“You are correct in feeling that way, Humphrey,” Roosevelt said.

“Excellent,” Humphrey said. “Sir, might I then inquire as to whether or not these expeditions of yours are more about proving to the schoolyard bullies of your youth that you are no longer the asthmatic bookworm they so enjoyed making sport of and that you are instead, now a specimen of vim and vigor?”

“Of course not, Humphrey,” Roosevelt replied. “Don’t waste my time with such poppycock.”

“I apologize, sir,” Humphrey said. “My only point was that I hope you know that you have proven your worthiness to all who love you and therefore opinions of those from days long gone by should be of little consequence.”

“I’ve never given those ruffians a second thought,” Roosevelt said.

The forest floor ended and turned into a ten foot drop which in turn, became a steep embankment that went on for as far as the eye could see.

Humphrey persisted. “Even so sir, I must insist…”

“Shh!” Roosevelt spotted it. A majestic black bear resting on its hindquarters straight below.

Roosevelt dropped to the ground, flat on his stomach in a prone position.

“Please sir…”

Without taking his eyes off his prey, the hunter reached up, grabbed hold of Humphrey’s coat and pulled on it until the old man relented and joined his master in the muck.

“Sir, your father will be very cross…”

“Not another word,” Roosevelt whispered angrily.

The hunter trained the sights of his rifle at the bear’s head.

“I’ve got you now, bear.”

Roosevelt pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing. His gun was jammed.

“Blast,” Roosevelt said as he stood up.

“Most unfortunate, sir,” Humphrey said. “But if we could now make our way to the nearest train station…”

Roosevelt drew a long knife out of a sheath on his belt, then rested his free hand on his man servant’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Humphrey.”

Without giving it a second thought, Roosevelt threw himself off the cliff and landed on his quarry’s back.

The bear roared as Roosevelt grabbed hold of its fur. “I’ll have none of your back-sass, bear!”

Roosevelt raised his knife high in the air only to drop it when the bear bucked about wildly. The hunter held on with all his might until the bear reared backward and threw his attacker off.

The bear hauled a paw back and swiped at Roosevelt, who rolled out of the way just in time.

Roosevelt rolled up his sleeves and took a boxer’s stance. “Ahh, so it’s fisticuffs, is it?”

The bear rose up on its hind lags to stand at its full length, then slapped its two front paws down at Roosevelt, who dodged certain death yet again.

“You’ve asked for it now, bear!” Roosevelt shouted as he landed a punch right into the bear’s nose. “Don’t say you weren’t warned!”

The bear’s roar echoed throughout the forest. It’s teeth were sharp. It’s breath reeked. Roosevelt was unfazed as he sailed an upper cut right into the bear’s jaw, followed by a good solid left hook.

“Relent, bear!” Roosevelt shouted. “This will only get worse for you!”

The bear charged. Roosevelt ducked out of the way then grabbed hold of the bear’s side and climbed onto its back.

The embankment grew steeper and steeper. The bear kept running until it reached such a fast pace that it was unable to stop. With Roosevelt holding on for dear life, the bear just kept running until…SMASH!

The bear’s face planted into the side of a brick wall. Its neck snapped. Its body collapsed. It was no more.

Roosevelt inspected his kill. Moments later, Humphrey arrived on the scene.

“Oh Master Roosevelt! Thank goodness you’re all right.”

“What do you think, Humphrey?” Roosevelt asked. “Shall I just mount the head on the wall in my den next to the wild boar or turn the entire carcass into a lovely throw rug?”

“Your wall is already cluttered with many the head of a wild beast, sir,” Humphrey said. “And I thought you said you weren’t going home.”

“I never said I wouldn’t visit.”

Roosevelt looked up at the wall. It went on farther than he could see.

“Humphrey?”

“Yes sir?”

“What in God’s name is this monstrosity?”

“Oh yes,” Humphrey said. “You’ve been away from civilization for quite some time. You see, the West has been zombed sir and…”

“What?” Roosevelt asked. “It’s been what?”

“Zombed,” Humphrey repeated. “Filled with dead men who continue to walk long after they’ve expired.”

Roosevelt squinted his eyes at Humphrey. “Preposterous!”

“Indeed, yet quite true, sir.”

Roosevelt looked around. Hundreds of workmen hustled about, carrying tools, bricks, lumber and building materials. Twenty feet down the wall, a large scaffold had been erected and workers were building the wall even taller.

The hunter and his servant walked along the side of the wall for awhile until they saw two soldiers manning a post at the top of the wall.

“Hold on,” Roosevelt said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You there!”

The first guard turned around. “Who goes there?”

“Theodore Roosevelt,” the hunter replied. “As a citizen of these United States, I demand to know what’s going on!”

“Fuck off,” was the first guard’s reply.

Outraged, Roosevelt grabbed a long ladder that was resting against the side of the wall and straightened it so that it reached where the two guards were standing.

“Hold it steady, Humphrey!”

“Master Roosevelt, I do not think this is such a good idea.”

As he watched his master climb up the ladder, Humphrey gave up on arguing and held the ladder with both hands.

Roosevelt reached the top of the wall and stood up. “Gentlemen. This fortification has blocked my passage to the Mississippi River. I demand you remove it at once!”

“Can’t,” the first guard replied.

“Why not?” Roosevelt asked.

“Zombies,” the second guard said.

“Zombies?” Roosevelt asked.

The first guard handed Roosevelt a spy glass. “Have a look see.”

Roosevelt peered through the spy glass at the shoreline, where three particularly disgusting zombies tromped toward the wall. The guards opened fire, bursting their hideous heads open.

“You’re killing them!” Roosevelt said.

“They’re already dead,” the first guard said.

“We’re just putting them out of their misery,” the second guard added.

“My word,” Roosevelt said. “In all my life I have never seen such wretched creatures. How did this happen?”

“I haven’t got the time or the patience to explain it to you,” the first guard said.

“Help!”

Roosevelt looked through the spy glass again. A young couple, a man and a woman, drifted across the river on a raft made out of logs tied together.

“Turn back!” the first guard shouted.

“We can’t!” the young man shouted from his raft. “There’s fucking zombies over there!”

The first guard fired a warning shot that landed in the water a foot away from the raft. “The next one’s at your head!”

“What are you doing, man?” Roosevelt asked. “Those people are in need of help!”

“We’ve got our orders,” the first guard said. “Everyone from across the river is either a zombie or a suspected zombie and is to be treated as such. No exceptions.”

“This is an outrage,” Roosevelt said.

“Climb back down or we’ll throw you off,” the second guard said.

“No,” Roosevelt said. “Sirs, I shall have you know that as a member in good standing of the Republican party, I protest what you are doing here.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the first guard said. “A Republican!”

“Bunch of bleeding heart do-gooders,” the second guard said.

“Yes!” Roosevelt said. “Bleeding heart do-gooders are we, for the Grand Ole Party carries the mantle of Lincoln, who fought boldly and gave his life to abolish the dreadful institution of slavery. Our party cares so much for the downtrodden masses that we lobbied for equal rights protections for them in the Constitution.”

“I don’t got all day to listen to your Republican nonsense,” the first guard sense.

“And yet listen to it you shall, sir,” Roosevelt said. “For the Republicans have earned their status as champions of all poor, unfortunate souls and so ingrained is our place in the American psyche that I dare say that even one hundred and fifty years from now, whenever people ask, ‘Who will help those in the minority?’ the answer will most assuredly be, ‘the Republican party!'”

“I’ve heard enough,” the first guard said. “Down you go.”

“This is not right, sir,” Roosevelt said. “The people across that wall need our assistance. The proper response for government is to utilize its resources to help them, not to build a wall and turn them away.”

The guards pointed their guns at Roosevelt.

“Fine!” Roosevelt started to climb down the ladder, but not without adding. “But do not think for one moment you have heard the last word about this from me, sirs!”

Moments later, Roosevelt reached the ground. He did not skip a beat. He stormed off. Humphrey followed.

“Something amiss, sir?”

Roosevelt turned around, stared at the wall, and tossed his hands into the air. “I have now found my true purpose in life, Humphrey. As God as my witness, I shall rise through the ranks of politics, ascending even to the Presidency of the United States if need be and I shall not rest until this wall has been torn down and the full might of our army is dispatched to bring an end to all zombies from sea to shining sea.”

“A most noble calling, sir,” Humphrey said.

“Indeed,” Roosevelt said as he walked away. “Skin my bear and meet me at the nearest train station, will you?”

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Happy Sunday 3.5 Readers

None of the other revered Bookshelf Battle Columnists have stopped by lately. I guess now that I’m nearing the end of completing my very first draft of a book ever, I’ve been focused on that, rather than help my esteemed slate of scribes polish their work for your perusal.

Which columnist do you miss the most? Alien Jones? Dr. Hugo Von Science? Vinny Baggadouchio? Video Game Rack Fighter? Nerdstradamus? Search Engine Optimized Poet? Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire? Uncle Hardass?

Inform me who you miss the most in the comments, 3.5.

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Movie Review – Central Intelligence (2016)

Kevin Hart. The Rock. 1990’s nostalgia.

Let’s do this.

I’ll tell you what I want, want I really really want…SPOILERS!

Back in 1996, Robbie Wierdick (no I’m sure no kids made fun of that name) was an overweight nerd with no friends. But when big man on campus Calvin Joyner (Kevin Hart) showed him a kindness that no one else would, he never forgot it.

Flashforward twenty years and Robbie is now Bob Stone (the Rock).  There’s been a total role reversal. Bob’s whipped himself into shape and has become a badass CIA agent whereas Cal, once voted most likely to succeed, now lives the boring life of an accountant.

Blah blah blah…through a hilarious sequence of events, Bob and Cal end up working together on a mission to save the world.

It’s your typical Kevin Hart film. Kevin gets thrust into a dangerous situation and then hilariously whines and tries to wiggle his way out.

The running joke of the film is that Bob (again, remember, he’s played by the Rock), despite having become a ripped secret agent, still pretty much acts like his old nerdy self.

In other words, there was probably a contest in the writer’s room to see how many dorky things they could get the Rock to say. (Highlights – he loves unicorns, can’t get enough of Molly Ringwald, and his voicemail message plays the Spice Girls.)

Speaking of the Spice Girls, there’s a whole plethora of 1990’s references as the action circles around Bob and Cal trying to save the day in time to get to their twentieth high school reunion.

Sheesh. Was 1996 really 20 years ago?

Damn it. That means Bob and Cal saw Independence Day after they graduated, with no idea that twenty years later there’d be a ridiculous sequel.

Hollywood, why are you insisting on reminding me that 1996 was twenty years ago? Boo!

STATUS: Shelf-worthy, but again, follows the pretty standard Kevin Hart film formula.  No need to rush out to the theater for it, but worth a rental for the laughs and 90’s flashbacks.

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Will You Use Facebook Live for Promotion?

Hey nerds.

Informal poll here.

I’ve been seeing people spring up with Facebook Livestreaming all over the place the past a week, the latest Facebook feature.

Will you use it and what for?

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Meh

I’m going through a phase where I’m wondering whether or not blogging, Twittering, Facebooking et al is little more than narcissistic d-baggery.

Fear not. It will pass.

And don’t forget to follow me on Twitter and Facebook.

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Daily Discussion With BQB – Rate My Attack Dog

Good morning 3.5 Readers.

As regular readers, you’re aware that Bookshelf Q. Battledog holds the esteemed position of Security Chief of Bookshelf Q. Battler Headquarters.

That’s right. All enemies of BQB HQ must go through this furry protector:

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QUESTION: Do you think BQBD is sufficiently scary? If you were an enemy of BQBHQ, would you cower in terror upon seeing him or punt him like a football and then engage in a hostile takeover of the Bookshelf Battle Blog as the evil Yeti did a couple years ago?

You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but he has actually devoured 7,345 intruders alive. He also knows karate, ninjutsu, kung-fu and tae kwon do.

But I don’t know. There’s just something about him that makes me worry he may not be sufficiently intimidating.

And when you run a blog dedicated to putting more awesomeness in the world, I really need a fearsome beast that will protect me from all who would seek to stop the awesome.

I can’t figure it out. Maybe he needs to work out more. Hit the gym a little.

What say you, 3.5 readers?

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I am on strike

I refuse to entertain this audience again until it doubles in size to 7 readers.

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