Tag Archives: funny

Stop Sucking With Vinny Baggadouchio – Why Does My Writing Suck?

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World Renowned Motivational Speaker, Anti-Suck Book Author and Bookshelf Battle Blog Columnist, Vinny Baggadouchio

Hello 3.5 Suckers.

I’m motivational speaker Vinny Baggadouchio and I won’t rest until everyone and everything in the entire world is one hundred percent suck free.

Is a suck free world a lofty, unattainable goal? Maybe. But if we can’t hold out hope for a suckless tomorrow, then why bother trying not to suck today?

If you’re tired of being an economy sized suck face, check out one of my many anti-suck books:

Journey to the Valley of the Suck

Desuckify Now! Ask Me How.

50 Ways to Stop Sucking

A Long Day’s Journey into Not Sucking

I Used to Suck But Now I Don’t

I Sucked but Now I’m Free

How to Spot a Sucker at 50 Paces

A Suckface Says, ‘What?’

The Sucktastic Voyage

Zen and the Art of Sucklessness

Bookshelf Q. Battler tells me this is a blog where writers are free to drop in and discuss ways to improve their writing skills.

As the world’s foremost anti-suck coach, I have counseled many writers on how to perfect their craft and stop writing in such a sucky manner.

MY FORMER WRITER CLIENTS AND HOW I HELPED THEM TO NOT SUCK:

Steven King – In the first draft of Carrie, Carrie and the school bullies learn to resolve their differences over cookies and milk. Carrie’s mother is so moved by this that she seeks professional psychiatric help and vows to become a better, less abusive mother.

I got up in Stevie’s grill and was all like, “Throw a bucket of pig’s blood on your protagonist and get the party started!”

RESULT: Steve’s book sales did not suck at all.

Suzanne Collins – Suzanne originally set out to have Katniss and friends compete in a friendly game of checkers of in order to determine who got to eat the last chocolate chip cookie.

My advice? Add in an evil dictator, give Katniss a bow and arrow and instead of checkers, make all the kids fight to the death.

RESULT: Four part movie deal.  Boo-yah!

GEORGE R.R. Martin – GRRM’s had a vision of a fantasy world where a mere three characters agreed to disagree in a polite manner and followed all the rules while resolving their differences.

“Georgie Boy,” I said. “Try 9,072 main protagonists. Add in lots of backstabbing, violence, betrayal and gratuitous boobs.  Dragons and more dragons. Make a slave girl march across a fantasy continent for like 20 years while she gets set on fire all the time and shows everyone her jugs. Oh, and be sure to make everyone think the good guy is about to win and then boom, he doesn’t.  Also be sure to explain who the bad guy ended up becoming the bad guy so people have no clue how to feel about anything.  Finally, throw in a brother and sister who do it and their doing it destroys all peace and stability in the realm.”

RESULT: George is one rich ass nerd.

DISCLAIMER: Mr. Baggadouchio may or may not have made up the above mentioned anecdotes but in all likelihood he probably did.

So, you want your writing to not suck?

Here are my steps to Desuckifying Your Writing

  1. Write and Read More
  2. Rewrite
  3. Seek Help
  4. Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself

Climb aboard the anti-suck train as we go through these steps one by one:

  1. Write and Read More

If you’re reading this, chances are English is your first language. It could be your second. If you’re new to the English language and this blog is one your first experiences with the English tongue, my condolences, and allow me to recommend this cat named William Shakespeare. That dude’s book sales are legendary. Some very not-sucky numbers.

You might think you know all there is to know about the English language but you don’t. Some know more than others but overall, even the experts are learning new rules every day.  It is difficult to master them all.

To complicate matters, there will always be rules where experts disagree.

The more you write, the better your writing will become.  You didn’t learn how to ride a bike without wiping out a few times and you won’t learn how to write churning out a few sucky turd nuggets on paper either.

Can you learn how to ride a bike by watching someone else ride? It does help.  Thus, you may not realize it at the time, but when you read a book, you learn how another author has handled a scene, dialogue, or other predicament.

Will practice make perfect? Perfection is in the eye of the beholder, but I can tell you that practice will make you suck less.

2.  Rewrite

Rome wasn’t built in a day and your novel won’t be either.  After you write it, you’ll need to rewrite it.

You didn’t know who your characters were when you started. Now you do. You have had time to think about it and you realize certain details need to be added in the beginning. Perhaps a scene isn’t working. Maybe a sentence is clunky.

A good rewrite will knock the suck right out of your book.

Think of your book like a steak.  Sure, you could plop a piece of meat on a plate and serve it up to your guest.  They’ll eat it.  They’ll go away with a full tummy.  They might be left with the notion that you’re a sucky cook due to your poor presentation.

But take that same steak, drop a sprig of parsley next to it, garnish it with some garlic salt and smother it with a nice creamy bearnaise and your guest will be singing your praises.

3.  Seek Help

Your book is like your child. You’re too close to it.  You’ve tried your best but you can’t identify every way it sucks.

Sometimes this is because you’ve grown so used to the suck you can’t tell the suck from the non-suck.

Other times this is because what you believe to not suck does, in fact, suck.

There are editors out there who can help you desuckify your book.

They won’t be cheap and you need to be careful.  Shop around.  Seek recommendations from authors whose books you like.  Do your homework.

But just as a good counselor will be able to analyze your kid and tell you all the ways you can help that kid to stop being such a giant suck bag, so can a good editor check out your book and advise you how to suck the suck right out of that draft.

Remember – once you click the publish button on Amazon, the eyes of the world (well at least the people who come across it) will be on your book.

You want to make a good impression. You want to do all you can to make it so your book does not suck.

4.  Don’t Be So Hard on Yourself

Unfortunately, I’ve a very busy anti-suck coach so I can’t advise you all on a one on one basis.

Some of you may believe that your writing sucks and you may very well be right. You could be correct in assuming that a drunk blindfolded llama with a pen stuck in its mouth could write a better novel than you.

Then again, some of you may be so wary of the need to not suck that you have mistakenly convinced yourself that your writing sucks when it actually does not suck.

Is your novel idea too far fetched?  Maybe.  Is it so far fetched that it sucks? Possibly.

But consider that the most popular show on television today features a drunken dwarf advising a dragon queen how to conquer a land being fought over by bastards, incestuous families, and ice zombies.

Yes Game of Thrones is on HBO, the same network that aired True Blood, a show about vampires who just humped and made funny quips all the time.

Does your farfetched idea suck? Maybe. But if you can honestly visualize it being turned into a show in the HBO lineup, then maybe its just the right kind of suck that people will love.

People, do you realize that for years now, a series of films about a man in an iron suit working with a green rage monster, a Norse God and a well-preserved World War II hero have been the most bankable box office busting flicks?

Let me share a piece of advice that entertainment insiders don’t want you to know:

Most book/movie ideas suck!!!

Do you know what is realistic?

Real life.  You wake up.  You poop. Brush your teeth. Take a shower. Eat a bagel. Go to work. Deal with assholes all day. Come home. Wash your laundry. Watch TV. Go to bed.

REPEAT THAT SHITTY SUCK FEST FOR 60 YEARS!!!

No one wants to read realism in a book.  No one wants to see realism in a movie.

Do outrageously farfetched ideas suck?

In theory, yes.

But they’re a special kind of suck that, if discovered by enough people, could put some fat stacks in your bank account.

CONCLUSIONS

That’s all the desuckification advice I have for you today, 3.5 suckers.

Stop sucking around. Grab your laptop, start clacking your keys and get to work on desuckifying your writing career.

If you still need help, you can always pick up a copy of my book, Suck Free Writing: A Guide for Beginners Who Really Suck at a bookstore that doesn’t suck.

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Chewbacca Mom Video

In case you haven’t seen it, random lady Candace Payne now dubbed “Chewbacca Mom” made a video of herself trying on her brand new Chewbacca mask and laughed so uncontrollably that it became an instant viral video sensation:

Come on. That mask is cool. It is a marvel of modern engineering that we have masks now that can make you sound like Chewbacca.

I watched this video and my naturally skeptic self wondered, “Hmm.  Is she really that happy? Did she really find this that funny?  Was all that laughing just to up the video’s silliness factor?”

No.  Not at all. Clearly she really is that happy and I now envy her as I’m one of those people who can’t find that much joy in the smallest of things.

And she even ended up on the Late Late Show with James Corden and met JJ Abrams:

So here’s to you, Chewbacca Mom.

Your nerdyness inspires us all, and that’s saying a lot, seeing as how this is a blog run by a nerd for 3.5 readers.

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Things That Really Frost My Ass – Class of 2016, Please Welcome Your Graduation Speaker

Hello 3.5 readers.

It’s graduation season and for those of you about to matriculate from any kind of school of higher learning, you’ll probably have to sit through a well-thought out speech delivered by a distinguished scholar.

No offense, but F%&K that guy. Pop on your phone and read Uncle Hardass’ graduation speech instead.

Class of 2016, please join me in welcoming your graduation speaker Uncle Hardass, a retired employee of Salt Mines, Inc. and esteemed grumpy old man correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.

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Uncle Hardass, Your Distinguished Graduation Speaker

Hello graduates.  OK. Yes. Thank you. Stop the clapping please. Some of us have more important things to do than bake in the hot sun like an asshole on a perfectly good Sunday afternoon, so let’s get down to business already.

First thing’s first.  GET A JOB!

Seriously. The Salt Mines are always hiring. Sure, finish up with your silly little ceremony, drink some juice and toss a piece of cake in your cake hole but if you don’t have a job by the time your head hits the pillow tonight then you’re an utter failure and you always will be for the rest of your miserable pathetic lives.

What? Why’s everyone giving me the stink eye?  Oh.  Right. I’m supposed to be upbeat and encouraging.

Sorry graduates.  I meant to say that while you’re failing miserably at life, you’ll do an excellent job of keeping your parents’ couch from spontaneously floating off into outer space because you’ll be on it for most of the day watching Ellen and old reruns of TV shows that were made before your grandparents were even born.

Look, if you want encouraging and upbeat, you should have invited…I don’t know…some guy who had his arms and legs blown off but he still competes in marathons by bouncing up and down on custom built metal springs or something.

If you want to be told how it is, then I’m your man.  And frankly kids, between your parents, your teachers, and every other adult in your lives, you’ve all had way too much smoke blown up your asses for your own good.

So it’s time to gather ’round, take a knee, and let your old Uncle Hardass give you the first dose of reality you’ve ever had.

GRADUATES: UNCLE HARDASS, WHAT SHOULD WE DO WITH OUR LIVES?

Graduates, a lot of goody two shoes folk are going to tell you things like “save the whales” or “save the environment” or “end poverty” or some such hullabaloo.

These thoughts are all very nice but alas, I have the misfortune of being the first adult to tell you that if you set out on a mission to save the world at 20, the world will still be the big garbage heap that it is when you’re 30 (except trashier) and you’ll be ten years older with no savings, no job, no employable skills and your parents will probably hate your guts because they had to spend the money they saved to travel the world in their old age on subsidizing your bullshit.

Poor people will always be fucked. Whales and the environment will always be fucked.  They were fucked when I was your age and they’ll still be fucked when your kids are your age.

The world is new to you kids so every time you hear about someone or something getting fucked, you automatically assume it’s the first time a fucking has ever gone down.

Trust me kids. It’s all been fucked up before and it will all get fucked up again.

Stop wasting your time on nonsense that you can’t change.

Get a job.  Make the money. Clock the grip. Stack the cheddar cheese.  Cash money bling dolla dolla bill make you sing y’all.

Get a job doing something important to you if you can’t cure yourself of that do-gooder nonsense. Find some organization that will pay you to clean oil out of whale blowholes or some bullshit.

Whatever you do, and here’s the important thing here, GET A JOB THAT PAYS.

Volunteering isn’t free, kids. For as long as you volunteer your time to dopey causes for free, Mom and Dad are spending the the money they would have spent on visiting Hawaii one time before they get tossed into a pine box on feeding, clothing, and sheltering you.

Bye bye Mommy and Daddy’s retirement dreams.  Bye bye. Mommy and Daddy can’t go to the luau because little Billy and little Suzy want to change the world one oily manatee dong at a time.

GRADUATES: UNCLE HARDASS, WHAT SHOULD WE DO WITH OUR MONEY?

Graduates, have you seen the news lately? The world is fucked and it’s only going downhill from here.  You think the economy is bad today? There may not even be an economy tomorrow.

Like a miserly hermit, horde every cent you can and never lend anything to anyone. I don’t care if your own mother is short one penny for a life saving operation, no deal! Sure it’s only a penny today but pretty soon the word gets out that you’re a softy and before you know it you won’t be able to walk three feet down the street without every jackass in the neighborhood treating you like you’re their own personal ATM.

Avoid spending your money on useless nonsense like bubblegum, comic books, and Miley Cyrus records.

Bank that scrilla. Invest it wisely and when you hit your first “What is the meaning of my life?” crisis in your 30s, you’ll have the dough you need to travel the world.

Hell, when you have enough money banked up, you might even dabble in that “save the world bullshit” that you’re all so interested in.  Don’t worry, kids. The world will still be fucked by then.  The fucked-ness won’t be going anywhere.  If anything, the longer you wait, the more fucked there will be for all you do-gooder bleeding hearts to remove.  Plenty of fucked, no waiting.

Save enough money today and when you’re older, you can spend your time pulling plastic soda can rings out of walrus butt holes or whatever gibberish your professors have been getting paid over $100K to spout into your mushy little brains.

Point? Mom and Dad can’t take care of you forever and the older you get, the less acceptable it will be for you to be broke as hell.

Make the fat green wads today and you’ll be able to polish all the oily otter testicles you want tomorrow, two at a time if need be.

GRADUATES: BUT UNCLE HARDASS, WE WANT TO BE WRITERS, ACTORS, POLITICIANS OR INSERT OTHER PIE IN THE SKY HIGHLY UNLIKELY PROFESSION HERE

Oh Jesus H. Christ.  Are you guys sure you graduated? Because that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.

What?  Who is this lady trying to get my attention?  No ma’am, I will not stop using profanity in front of the graduates. I have a constitutional right to swear in public.  George Washington did not karate chop the King of England’s scrotum so that I could NOT swear in front of young adults, I’ll have you know.

Where was I?  Oh right.  The terrible, terrible choices you have made about your future professions.

First of all, let me talk to the wannabe writers. You know who else wants to be a writer?

My dumbass nephew, Bookshelf Q. Battler. He just entered year three on his blog and he only has 3.5 readers.

Do you want to end up as a blogger with only 3.5 readers? I don’t think so.

What happened, wannabe writers? Your English teacher slapped a sticker on your report about Hamlet and you’re already polishing your Pulitzer in your mind?

Forget about it. “Oh look at me I’m a writer. I’ll change the world by publishing a record of my thoughts and feelings!”

Sorry.  The world was fucked before writers started writing.  The world be fucked after writers stop writing.

Where are my wannabe actors?  Hello there.  Look at you.  You’re the kids in the drama club that starred in an off-off-off way off broadway production of Rent.

Look kids, your parents only told you that you did a good job because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings. In actuality, your performance was so awful that by the end of the second act they started praying to catch AIDS just so they wouldn’t have to listen to any more of your horrible singing.

What?  What? Why’s everyone booing?  You can’t make AIDS jokes still?  Jesus, what’s it been, like 35 years?

Fine.  Fine. Have it your way, PC police. No AIDS jokes until 2050.

My point is, you wannabe actors might think you are hot shit because you gave a lukewarm performance in your school play, but Hollywood will crush your soul and all your dreams.  Just take it from me and assume your soul will be crushed and report to the Salt Mines for a nice, steady minimum wage job instead.

What else do you kids want to be?  Politicians? Eh, I suppose that’s somewhat doable but remember, only run for office if you’re doing it for the money.  If you’re doing it to change the world, don’t waste your time.

The world is a whore, kids.  It enjoys the deep fucking that it has been getting for many, many years. It obviously does because if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be so difficult to stop it.

So remember graduates, only run for office for all the fancy perks and underhanded graft opportunities. If you want to change the world, you’ll have a better shot at it by signing up to wash oily polar bear gonads.

IN SUMMATION

Graduates, I see my time is up, not just by the clock, but by the sight of the security officers headed my way to throw me off the stage and that’s understandable, because no one likes getting a truth bomb dropped on them.

But that’s just what I do.  I’m Uncle Hardass and I keeps it real, playa.

If you forget everything else I said, remember:

  • Always, always, ALWAYS sell out your dreams in exchange for the most easily obtainable job you can find, then desperately cling to that job for thirty years because believe you me, you’ll never do any better.
  • Horde your money as if the world’s financial system is about to be thrown into complete and utter chaos and disarray at any moment because, let’s face it, that’s not that far fetched, is it?
  • Assume the worst about everyone and everything and you’ll never be disappointed.
  • Odds are that one of you might end up doing something remotely interesting and worthwhile with your lives.  The rest of you will be lucky if you end up selling boat insurance at a strip mall.
  • Never forget that not a single one of you is special.  Had none of you ever been born, there would have been no noticeable effect on the world whatsoever.  The world turned before you got here. It will keep turning long after you’re gone.
  • When you’re feeling stopped up, there’s nothing like a cool glass of prune juice with a bran muffin chaser to get the old turd factory going again.

Finally, I’d just like to say this whole experience of speaking to you today was a complete disaster.  A real misuse of my precious time.  Time that I will never get back because I spent it talking to a bunch of losers like yourselves.

Let me drop the mic.  OK it’s been dropped. Uncle Hardass out.

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Angry Birds Movie

I’m not going to write a very in-depth review, but it was cute, funny, and they took the concept of an app based video game that requires you to shoot birds with a sling shot at pigs and make a whole movie about it.

Worth checking out.

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BQB’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Section 3 – Packing a Bug-Out Bag

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When the zombies come for you, they’re not going to care if you aren’t ready for them. This isn’t the prom and these flesh chomping dirt bags aren’t going to park their butts on your sofa and make small talk with your mom while you put the finishing touches on your make-up in the bathroom.

They want your brains and they want them now.

Thus, in the event that it starts looking like your home is about to be overrun with more zombies than you can handle, then you need to be prepared to make a dash in a flash.

Or to put it more succinctly, you need to be ready to “bug out” of your pad and that’s where a bug-out bag comes in.

Only Pack the Essentials

Your baseball card collection. That trophy you got for coming in seventy-seventh place in a foot race with seventy six of your classmates. Your collection of potato chips that bear a striking resemblance to Phyllis Diller.

Be ready to leave all that and more behind, because if you aren’t ready to eat those Diller chips for sustenance, then they’re just bogging you down.

(Phyllis Diller, millenials? No? Crap. Who’s a crusty old funny broad today? I got it. Do you have a collection of potato chips that look like Lisa Lampanelli?  No? Too early 2000’s?  Ok.  Check it out. Do you have a collection of potato chips that look like Chelsea Handler? Yes. The millennials are nodding their heads. I can get out of this terrible joke and move on.)

The zombies are not going to give you a break because you need to grab a few things before you go. And they aren’t going to run slower to compensate for you carrying a bunch of crap that you don’t need.

Zombies are dumb animals who don’t understand concepts like fairness…or kindness…or hygiene.

So if you’re slowly struggling under the weight of bags filled with all the notebooks you used to write love letters to Harry Styles from One Direction, then I guarantee your brains are going to end up with zombie teethmarks in them.
Thus, you must fill your bag with a) life sustaining essentials and b) the sum total weight of which you can carry while you are running away from damn dirty zombies.
The great thing about diversity is that we all are, at the risk of sounding redundant, different. An item that can sustain my life may be of little to no use to you.

So only you know what you can or can’t get along with during the z-poc, but here are some suggestions:

Food and Water

We covered storing food and water a bit in the section on zombie proofing your home. Now we’re talking about packing it. You’ll definitely want a few store bought water bottles in your bag. Prepackaged foods will also be ideal. Granola bars. Some of that nutritional shake mix (something along the lines of Carnation Instant Breakfast, for example) might be good. Of course you’ll have to mix it with water. You won’t have any milk to mix in it unless you manage to kidnap a cow amidst the apocalyptic fallout, which if you do, go you. I applaud your resourcefulness.

Canned food will last awhile, not due to its nutritious value but because it is pumped full of more preservatives than the face of your favorite aging celebrity. Just remember too many cans and you’ll be weighed down. The slower your roll the more likely you’ll end up zombie poop (because a damn zombie will eat and digest you and yes, they do poop.)

Medicine

You’ll definitely want to bring your prescription drugs, though I can’t really recommend just leaving them in a random bag in your house. Drugs can be dangerous so you want to keep all that shit locked up in a safe location, far away from dumb little kids who explore the world by putting as much of it in their mouths as possible. (You parents who are constantly prying random, tiny pieces of floor junk out of your kids’ pie holes know what I’m talking about.)

Plus you want to keep your drugs out of the hands of untrustworthy adults, like your coke head brother-in-law, or your self-medicating hypochondriac buddy who jumps onto various health websites and diagnoses himself with a strange new tropical disease every time he sneezes.

In other words, your pharmaceuticals are for you, period. A medical doctor prescribed them to you based on his assessment of your condition and his judgment based on years of medical training.

So no, don’t leave drugs lying around your house in an unsecured bag. Keep drugs somewhere safe, secure, away from others but remember where you left them in case you need to grab them in a hurry when the zombies come.

As for over the counter stuff, these drugs can also be dangerous if you leave them just lying around in a bag.

Instead, maybe keep a mental list of what you’ll want to grab quickly when the zombies come a calling.

Do you want to bring your Nyquil in case you get a stuffy nose and/or a sore throat that keeps you from sleeping? Be my guest. However, keep in mind that the sleep you get from it will leave you less alert and more likely to become zombie chow.

Money

It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave a little bit of cash in your bug-out bag. During the first few weeks of the zombie apocalypse, people will retain their faith in the government’s ability to restore order. Thus, they’ll be willing to trade goods and services for cash, completely unaware that the president has already left us all for dead and is partying hearty in his underground bunker with a champaign flute in one hand and a buxom supermodel’s honkers in the other.

(Not gonna lie, world leaders will really be the only ones who totally make out like bandits during the zombie apocalypse, which is totally unfair, for as we will discuss later, if anyone is going to cause a zompoc, it’s going to be those asshats.)

How much money? The short answer is whatever you can afford to lose, because you’ll be keeping it in a random bag in your house and you just know that when the end times come and you need a hundred bucks to bribe a guard to let you through a gate that leads to safety, you’re going to reach into your bag and discover that one of your sticky fingered relatives already found it, swiped it and spent it on something stupid (candy, comic books, ticket to a Justin Bieber concert, take your pick.)
Lighter and/or Matches

From time to time, you’ll need to start a fire when you’re living in the wilderness. Maybe you’ll need to cook a squirrel you caught and never would have even eaten before but after months without fast food that furry little bastard is looking mighty good to you (and ironically, it will probably taste much like your favorite fast food chain’s burger.)

Some experts might tell you it is possible to make a fire using a flint stone, rubbing two sticks together, or by harnessing the power of the sun through a magnifying glass, but I’m not an expert on anything. I’m just a jackass with a magic bookshelf pulling random thoughts out of my butt.

At any rate, it probably isn’t very safe to leave flammable materials lying around in a bag in your house either, so…ok. Scratch this idea too.

First Aid Kit

This is a must have. Some bandages. Some gauze. Maybe educate yourself on how to treat a wound. I have no idea how to do that shit either so let me know if you do.

Weaponry

Ah, finally. The gun control debate that’s tearing our country apart finds its way into a Bookshelf Q. Battler book.

Folks, here in America, we have the right to bear arms. This right has been written into our constitution due to a rather abusive relationship we had with our pre-democracy ruler, the King of England.

I’m sorry but someone has to say it. King George was an epic douche. Always bossing us around and telling us what to do. Forcing us to house his damn redcoats. Taxing the shit out of our tea.

We don’t drink as much tea as we used to and today we have  taxed ourselves at rates that would make the Founding Fathers spin in their graves, but still. It’s the principal of the thing.

If we’re going to be required to take a portion of our hard earned moolah and feed it to the bureaucratic beast known as government, then we at least want a say in choosing via elections which public officials will fleece us and which song and dance routines we want to see as these officials promise they’ll do one thing with our money and then once elected, do something completely different with it. Pick the song and dance routine that complies with whichever preconceived notions you have about the world that will never occur because political types just do what they want in the end anyway.

Like an empowered woman who has escaped an abusive relationship but remains fearful her nasty ex might break down the door at any time, we Americans still sleep with one eye open, frightened that the King of England will either come back for us, or a new, scary form of government will rear its ugly head and make us yearn for the good old days with the King.

Thus, Americans are understandably hanging onto this right. And aside from concerns about hypothetical tyranny, there’s always people who are rightfully afraid of crime, street gangs, terrorists, and assorted perverts.

Personally, I don’t own a gun. I could tell you that it is because I am trained in a variety of martial arts, from Kung-Fu and Krav Maga to Nerd-Fu and Obla Dee Ma Da.

But frankly, the real reason I don’t own a gun is because I did a mental calculation of the pros and cons of gun ownership versus potential risks posed to me and determined that due to my general incompetence and stupidity, the likelihood of me accidentally shooting myself or someone I care about was high whereas the likelihood of me needing to protect myself or someone I care about from a mob of violent weirdoes was low.

I’m in a weird place on gun control. I don’t want a gun. I don’t want to blow a deer’s brains out or anything. But I don’t necessarily want to see the right to own a firearm go away. After all, every time we surrender a right, the government grows that much stronger, and though the government we have today seems reasonable, who knows what it might morph into tomorrow.

On the other hand, we do have a problem with mass shootings and other gun related crimes. I don’t have the statistics but generally speaking, I don’t recall there ever being as many instances of mass shootings when I was a young lad in the 1990’s as there are today.

We were better at handling our depression in the 1990s. We’d pop on some alternative rock. A moody as hell bearded dude dressed up like a lumberjack in his best flannel would sing a depressing song. All of us young folk would sort of half-dance by swaying a few inches to the left then a few inches to the right with our heads down. We essentially handled our depression by going out of our way to let everyone know that we were depressed all the time.

Today’s kids are different. Parents and teachers and shrinks and everyone pumps kids full of so much happy good time, sparkly sunshine, special snowflake, get a participation ribbon just for showing up bullshit that when they become adults and meet up with someone telling them no for the first time, they grab a heater and go berserk.

And yes, I do realize its not only the millenials losing their shit. Old people have engaged in mass shootings. Middle-aged people have as well.

So I do understand why many people today are throwing their hands up, declaring society as a whole can’t be trusted with individual gun ownership, and demanding that the right to bear arms be thrown in the trash.

I’ll have to paraphrase the late great Ronald Reagan here. He once said that “the closest thing to eternal life on Earth is a government program.”

I’d go a step further and say that the closest thing to eternal life is a right. Once the government says you can do something, it becomes difficult and practically impossible for that right to be taken away.

I don’t know what the answer to the gun debate is. A long held government right vs. too many people getting blown away by wackos. I’m just a mild mannered humorist so I can’t tell you how to resolve this debate, but I hope the various and sundry folks at the helm of our national ship figure out a way.

Did I have a point with all this? Oh right. So honestly, I am not going to tell you to go out and get a gun or a knife or some other kind of weapon to prepare for an apocalypse of any kind, be it a zombie apocalypse or an apocalypse generated by some other type of disaster.

The odds that you’ll shoot or stab yourself, or someone else, maybe even someone you love are high whereas the likelihood of you needing a gun or a knife or another weapon to fight zombies are 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 to 1. Shit, that’s a lot of zeroes, but that’s also how unlikely zombies will ever become anything more than make-believe.

Should you feel dumb for buying this book then? Probably, but it’s too late. I have already spent the money you shelled out for it on a delicious wings and skins sampler.

Burp. Excuse me.

If you are already a gun and/or knife or other type of weapon owner, I hope you’re exercising your right to bear arms cautiously. If you are, then surely you know it is a dumb idea to keep guns, knives and other weapons lying around in a bag in your house. You must, must, must keep all weapons locked up in a safe, secure location, and there is plenty of information out there on how to do that.

Bottomline

Hmmm. So I have determined it is a bad idea to leave weapons, fire starting implements, and medicine in a bag that’s just lying around your house. Perhaps this section was a waste of time.

Or maybe it wasn’t. You can still pack a bag filled with bottles of water, nonperishable packaged food, and as much cash as you can afford to lose. In the unlikely event that the zombies come, you can at least grab your food/water/money bag and run like hell.

During the first few weeks of post-apocalyptic survival, you’ll be able to survive off of the food and water you bring, and you perhaps could even trade some of your food and water with other survivors for goods and services.

Your money won’t be there because you always knew your buddy Doug was a dirty, dirty thief.

Up your nose with a rubber hose, Doug. You know you spent my zombie apocalypse money on hookers and blow. #WorstBuddyEver

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BQB’s Romance Tips for Nerds #1 – Oui by Jeremih

Hey Nerds.

BQB here.

Look, I’m no Casa Nova, but I’ve learned a thing or three in my day.

If you’re reading this blog then you’re probably a lonely nerd.

If there’s a she-nerd out there who’s on the fence as to whether or not you’re the man for her, put yourself over the top by playing “Oui” by Jeremih.

Forget that commercial where Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (that guy who plays Jamie Lannister on Game of Thrones) strikes out when he plays it.

He was up against Alison Brie, a famous actress who probably gets hit on by famous men all day long. She’s immune to it.

The average woman is powerless against Jeremih’s smooth vocals and I’m telling you, just bring “Oui” up on your phone, push play and she’ll be all over you like stink on a monkey.

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Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Section 2 – Zombie Proofing Your Home

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Zombies will be trying to break into your crib at all times. You need to nip that shit in the bud.

Whether it’s a swanky mansion in Beverly Hills or a crumbling old shack in East Randomtown, your home is yours. It belongs to you.

And I don’t know about you, noble reader, but I’d rather sing a karaoke version of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits while Japanese businessmen pelt me with rotten eggs than allow a damn dirty zombie to drive me out of my home.

This is America, damn it, and if those zombies want my house they’ll have to either yank my stank ass corpse out of it or at the very least, make me a reasonable offer based on fair market value, adjusted for inflation, with additional moving expenses added in.

I’m not going to tell you that it is possible to fully zombie proof your home. After all, put enough zombies anywhere and they can destroy anything.

But I will tell you that these are some steps that will slow the undead down:

Board Up Your House

Yes, right now.  Every door. Every window. Every entrance. Nail boards over all of it.  Then in bright orange spray paint write “Zombies Not Welcome” all over the boards.  Or, if you want to be tricky, put up a sign that says, “All the Brains in this House Have Already Been Devoured in a Grotesque Manner.”  Zombies are pretty dumb so they’ll fall for it. And let’s face it. No one in your house is a rocket scientist so a sign reading “No Brains Here” wouldn’t even really be that much of a stretch would it?

Do you want to be nailing boards over your doors while zombie hands are busting through the walls and getting all grabby with you? I think not. So nail your house shut and then sit in the corner and wait for the zombie apocalypse like a good reader.

Then again, I suppose if you did all this the neighbors would probably assume you are a wacko and call the cops on you.  And it would harm your home’s ventilation, cut down the interior air circulation, rob you of natural lighting,  and turn you into an unhealthy shut in.

Shit. OK. Change of plan. DO NOT board up your house.  But go to Home Depot and get a bunch of boards and store them somewhere nice and safe so you’ll have them ready to go when the news reports start warning of an impending zombie attack.

If you can’t carry the boards, there are usually a lot of Mexican dudes hanging around outside Home Depot waiting to help people carry anti-zombie attack boards in exchange for a few bucks. That’s not a racist statement. That’s just how it is.

In fact, and I don’t mean to tell the news media how to do their jobs here, but someone really needs to ask Donald Trump who the hell is going to carry all of our anti-zombie home protection boards when all the Mexicans are sent to the other side of the wall that he wants to build and bill to the Mexicans.

By the way, that reminds me:

You Need to Build a Wall

You need to build a giant wall around the entire perimeter of your home. You need to do it fast, you need to do it now and you need to make the zombies pay for it.

Don’t let the zombies fool you.  Many of them are still carrying the wallets that belonged to the people they were before they became undead shells of their formers selves. So they’ve got the cash to reimburse you for anti-zombie wall.

In that wall, there should be a door. You can use it if you ever want to leave your home for whatever reason. Maybe you need to go on supply runs or something.

Now it’s your home so you can choose to let zombies in if you want, provided that they pass through your rigorous vetting process, but make no mistake about it, zombies will only be allowed to pass through the door in your wall legally.

Look, this idea isn’t going to be popular but I’m just going to say it. Maybe we ought to put a total moratorium on all zombies entering your home until we figure out what in the hell these zombies are up to.

So get your ass back to Home Depot, grab some bricks and mortar and hire those Mexicans to build your wall for you. The higher the better because pole vaulting is not exactly a zombie’s strong suit.

Um, you might need to get some permits and the approval of various officials before you build your wall.  There’s probably limits on how high you can build too.  You know what, I’m just going to let you figure that part out on your own. I can’t do everything for you.

Get a Gas Powered Generator

These will become a hot commodity during a zombie apocalypse so rather than wait and put yourself in a position where you’ll have to sell you body to some redneck in order to get one, why not invest in one today?

Go get one, get it set up, and keep a reasonable supply of gas on hand. I mean, you don’t want to keep so much that you’ll burn down your house, but enough so that you’ll at least be able to run the lights and let your kids play their stupid video games so that you won’t have to talk to them or read to them or do any parenting or shit.

(That was a joke. Parent your kids and teach them to be solid citizens.  Who knows? Maybe with your help they’ll grow up to become respectable world leaders who won’t allow a zombie apocalypse to happen.)

Security Systems

If you have a home alarm monitoring system, it’s not going to work once the power goes out.

Thus, a pesky zombie could break into your house and if you’re fast asleep, you won’t know he’s inside until he’s munching on your face.

Various anti-zombie experts will differ on this, but I recommend hiring a band of hobos to walk around your house.  Promise to send some food their way once in awhile and in exchange, they’ll be expect to shout, “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!” if they see any zombies coming your way.

Oh, right. My attorney advises me to to warn you that hobos are a violent, ill-tempered lot and should not be trusted anywhere near your home.

Really? That seems kind of racist against hobos.  Wait. Hobos aren’t a race. Classist? I don’t know.

You know what. Forget it. Don’t put hobos in charge of guarding your house.  Damn lawyers ruin everything.

Store Food/Water

Who knows how long the zombie apocalypse is going to last?

If you’re stuck in your home for an extended time period, you’re going to get the munchies like a futhermucker.

I’m no expert, but rarely has that ever stopped me from offering my opinion on anything, so here goes.

Perishables won’t last very long. Raw meat, cheese, milk, it’s all going to expire quickly if the zombies knock the power out and you didn’t have the foresight to get yourself a back-up generator.

You’ll probably want some powdered milk, packaged foods. Twinkies, I’m told, will last through a nuclear war and I know this because whenever I eat one I feel like it is still dancing in my belly for hours.

Do they still make Twinkies? I thought they stopped making them for awhile but then I thought they made a comeback. I don’t know.

Water is definitely something you’ll want. There’s all kinds of literature out there that will tell you how to keep it safe and drinkable even after storing it for long periods of time.

Do you know they have this invention now where it is like a giant bag you can put in your tub, fill it up with water and then your tub becomes like your own personal water storage tank?

Obviously, if there’s an impending disaster that could affect the quality of your water, you’ll want to fill that bag before said disaster.

With zombies, you could probably wait until news of a zombie epidemic spreads.

Then again, zombies have been known to pee in town water supplies.

You know what? It’s up to you. If you want to stop showering so you can leave a giant water bag in your tub in the event of a zombie apocalypse, be my guest.

Sorry.  There are probably people out there more qualified than I am to tell you how to package and preserve your water and food stuffs.

“You need twinkies and water” is the best advice I can give you.

Also, if it gets down to the point where you have to drink your own urine, consider just giving up and letting the zombies have you.

I mean, it’s your wizz, for Christ’s sake. There can’t be anything tangy or delicious about that.

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Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse – Introduction

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Artistic rendition of what Bookshelf Q. Battler would look like as a zombie nerd.

Good day, noble reader.

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

Most likely, we haven’t met yet, but I hold many titles.  Specifically, I’m a world renowned poindexter, epic nerdventurer, reviewer of pop cultural happenings, a magic bookshelf caretaker and last, but certainly not least, a champion yeti fighter.

I won’t waste too much of your time going into all that hullabaloo.  If you’re interested (and I hope you are) you can read more about my life by visiting my humble blog, “Bookshelf Battle” located for your convenience at bookshelfbattle.com

As of this writing, I’m proud to announce that the Bookshelf Battle Blog boasts upwards of 3.5 readers, and it would be a distinct honor for me if you would bring that total up to 4.5.

Hell, if you’re one of those fancy people who has friends, feel free to tell them about me and together, we can make my plan to get my website up to 30.5 readers by 2020 a reality.

If you’ll allow me this brief plug, the Bookshelf Battle Blog is a rousing celebration of all things nerdy.  I don’t mean to imply that you, specifically, are a nerd. Cool people purchase books on how to survive zombie apocalypses all the time.  For the rest of you nerds, I think you’ll feel right at home after your first visit.

I’m not going to lie.  It isn’t easy juggling my many duties. Did I mention on top of all this I hold two full-time jobs?

One of them even pays. I currently hold the distinguished position of Assistant to the Assistant of the Vice-President of Corporate Assistance of Beige Corporation, the world’s premiere supplier of beige products and accessories.

Our motto? “When you need to wear a color that says absolutely nothing about you as a person whatsoever, try beige!”

Yup. It’s a gig that is as boring as it sounds, but it does pay the bills.  Don’t worry, I’m only doing it until my career as a self-published writer takes off.

FYI my writing career needs to take off or else a maniacal alien despot has pledged that he will conquer the planet, but I don’t want to bore you with my problems.

Well, technically it’s also your problem, unless you’re one of those who weirdoes who thinks getting your planet conquered by an alien would be good times. Personally, I doubt it.

Theoretically, I’m not sure the aliens could do any worse than the folks running the joint right now, but this isn’t a political book, so I don’t want to open that can of worms.

Where was I?  Oh right.  Telling you about my two full-time jobs.

The second one only pays me in heartburn and increased stress levels.  But it’s also the reason why I have become an expert on the subject of zombie attacks.

You see, I currently hold the position of Acting Mayor of East Randomtown, USA.

I was never elected and honestly, I don’t even want the job because it requires me to listen to the incessant complaints of a bunch of dumb dummies.  Literally, Kim Kardashian could challenge any one of my constituents to a debate and come off sound like Steve Hawking against these brain donors.

Look, I’m not trying to disparage my home town, but facts are facts, and here are some facts that will help you get the full picture of what I’m dealing with here:

  • An Absurdly High Mortality Rate – My home town leads the world in deaths caused by accidental choking caused by an inability to walk and chew gum at the same time.  I have done my best with a “Spit Before You Hoof It” campaign but I can only do so much.  We are also the town with the highest number of accidental drownings due to people leaving their mouths open when it rains. Thanks to my leadership, every neighborhood has a drown warden now, charged with the task of reminding everyone to shut their suck holes at the first sight of a rain drop.
  • Poor Education – Thanks to my “Books Won’t Steal Your Soul” initiative, I was able to convince more townsfolk to pursue higher education for awhile.  Alas, that all stopped when the local Hipster Hut had a sale on laser pointers. Now half the populace just draws on their walls with their laser pointers while the other half, much like cats, try to catch the light between their hands.
  • Favorite Pasttimes – Baseball?  No. Our official town sport is “Getting Drunk and Accusing Other People of Thinking They’re Better Than You.”  Resident Otto Dobner holds the record, having accused three hundred and eighty seven residents of thinking they’re better than he is.  (Between you and I, most of them were.)

Point? I never would have voluntarily sought the position of being the leader of this moronic wasteland.

Rather, I was drafted into the position in October of 2015, during which I bravely and selflessly took it upon myself to save the town from a zombie apocalypse caused by the evil mad scientist, Dr. Hugo Von Science. (Side note: Dr. Hugo is still a columnist for my blog but my lawyer is working on breaking that contract on the grounds of, well, he’s a nutbag who enjoys causing zombie apocalypses.)

Long story short, our elected mayor was eaten by zombies and then our self-appointed mayor tried to kill me and feed me to zombies.  Ultimately, I had to take the position and am doing my best to suffer through it until someone with half a brain is willing to take this burden off my hands.

I’m not holding my breath.  If you’re interested in the events of the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse, you can read more about that on my blog. Hell, feel free to click a few extra buttons while you’re there because it gives me the warm fuzzies whenever I see my blog stats go up.

My purpose with this book isn’t to educate you about the zombie mayhem that went down in East Randomtown.  Suffice to say, under my leadership, a whopping 35% of the townspeople were saved, which sounds low, but if you think you could save more people during a zombie apocalypse, then feel free to write your own guide to surviving a zompoc, you braggadocios pain in the posterior, you.

Instead, my goal is to take you, the noble reader, open up your brain and pour in all the knowledge I gained as an experienced fighter of the undead, thus turning you into a bad ass zombie apocalypse survivor.

Noble reader, I’ll even make you this guarantee.

If a zombie apocalypse ever does break out and the knowledge you gained from this book does not prevent you from dying a miserably gruesome death at the hands of disgustingly wretched zombies, then simply send me a tweet @bookshelfbattle and I’ll happily give you a full refund.

And if there’s never a zombie apocalypse, then you’re welcome. No doubt that will be the result of all the zombie apocalypse avoidance information that you will also find inside this revered tome.

Thank you for your time, your interest, and most importantly, the sweet sticky scrilla you dropped on this book.  Know that it will be spent on a good cause, namely, a wings and skins sampler at my favorite chain restaurant, which I will stuff in my face hole in your honor.

Now take my hand and join me on this epic learning experience.

Hold onto your brains.  It’s going to be a bumpy ride. (And also, it makes it harder for the zombies to eat them.)

Warmest Regards,

Bookshelf Q. Battler

Blogger-in-Chief of the Bookshelf Battle Blog

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Summer of Bookshelf 2016

Hey 3.5 Readers.1371251154

Your old pal, BQB here.

Don’t you just love summer?

For me, there’s just something about good weather that lifts my spirits. Frankly, if it weren’t for the giant, monolithic corporation run by a cartoon mouse and the highly likely chance of being eaten by an alligator, I probably would have moved to Florida a long time ago.

But I digress.  Summer is a time when I feel more energetic, happier and more hopeful and thus it’s a shame to let this rare burst of positivity go to waste (although knowing me, it’ll be gone tomorrow).

This is all subject to change, mind you, but here are my thoughts for Summer 2016

  • I’m loathe to say our favorite pals like Uncle Hardass, Alien Jones, the Yeti, Dr. Hugo and so on will be on hiatus, but they’ll probably take a chill pill for awhile.
  • In other words, I’m going to try to focus more energy on completing publishable work product.  “Books” as you tawdry laymen might call them.
  • I have had people ask me this.  “Why not spend less time posting gibberish and more time posting new parts of your book draft?”
  • And my answer is usually, “Why don’t you eat light salad for every meal? Because even though it’s the right thing to do, and it is the disciplined thing to do, once in awhile you need to pig out on some Doritoes and fudge bars and so on.
  • So…I’m not saying the funny stuff will go away. I mean, I’ll still go to movies and write reviews.
  • I’m still going to write about Game of Thrones because, holy shit, it’s Game of Thrones and I doubt there will be another adult oriented fantasy themed “Lord of the Rings with Gratuitous Boobies” show again at least for the rest of our natural lives so we might as well enjoy it while it lasts.  And as long as smoke keeps popping out of witch vaginas and imps and eunuchs keep trading bitchy barbs, I’m going to be blogging about it.
  • But I’d like to start working on a second project, Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse.  
  • We’ll differ on whether or not it is fiction. You’re probably a square that doesn’t believe in zombies. I on the other hand know they’re real because I fought them during the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse.
  • But to appease the suits that control the various book publishing sites, I’ll say it’s fiction that reads like non-fiction.
  • I have often wondered to myself if I should play to my own strengths. Novel writing is much more difficult than blogging my opinions.  Novels must make sense. Meanwhile, as a humorist, my opinions just need to make you laugh.
  • Ergo, and to bring this post home, while the various Bookshelf Battle Blog characters won’t completely disappear this summer, I’m going to a) put much more effort into finishing How the West Was Zombed and b) when I feel the need to feast on the writing equivalent of Doritos and/or a fudge bar, I’m going to work on my guide to surviving a zombie apocalypse.
  • Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse will be written in my own quirky, humorous style.  Rants. Opinions. Nonsense.  Funny stuff.
  •  The best part? When I’m done there will be a minimal amount of editing. Sure, there will be rewrites, error fixing, additions and subtractions, tweaking but will I need to draw up a flow chart of who each character is, where they need to be at what time and so on? Nope. There will be no characters.  I’m the only character this book needs, baby.
  • So sit back, relax, and give me your feedback.  For the Summer of Bookshelf begins…wait for it…wait for it…hold on I need to take a casserole out of the oven…ok…now!
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The Funky Hunks – Greatest Hits Album

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Read N’ Plenty (Known Today as Bookshelf Q. Battler, Proprietor of a Website With 3.5 Readers)

The Funky Hunks.  Bookshelf Q. Battler and Bernie Plotznick, or as you knew them back in the day, Read N’ Plenty and MC Plotz.

They were the most wholesome, least controversial rap duo ever assembled, and that’s why your moms listened to them more than you did.

Relive the late 1990’s again with these non-threatening songs:

  • “Get Yo Milk On, Sucka”
  • “Look Both Ways Before You Cross Da Street, Playa”
  • “Straight Up Recyclin'”
  • “Girl…We Should Get to Know Each Other in an Extended Courtship First”
  • “Damn Baby, I’mma Have Yo Ass Home By 10:30 P.M.”
  • “Hygiene, What’s It Mean?”
  • “Carrots B. Tas-tay”
  • “Word to Yo Toothbrush”
  • “Call Yo Damn Grandma, Fool”
  • “Tell That Stranger to Step Off”
  • “Fight 4 Da Right to Bedazzle”
  • “Homework Betta Recognize”
  • “Can’t a Dawg Get a Decent Pair of Slacks at a Reasonable Price Up in This Bitch?”
  • “Fs Go Away, I’m A Plussin Everday”
  • “Straight Outta Bean Dip”
  • “Me So Studious”
  • “Etiquette Yourself Before You Wrecketiquette Yourself”
  • “Cuz I Got High…On Life”
  • “Break Me Off a Piece of Dat Bran Muffin”
  • “Girl, I’mma Need Your Unequivocal, Verbalized Permission Before I Kiss You”
  • “I Wanna Be a Decent, Stand-Up Taxpaying Citizen So Friggin’ Bad”
  • “Put Yo Clothes On Girl, I Barely Know You”
  • “Mad Hella Fiber in My Diet, Son”
  • “If You Aint Floss, Yo Teeth Aint Clean, Sucka”
  • “Increasing Auto Insurance Rates Be Everyone’s Problem, Ya Heard?”
  • “Girl, I’mma Come Inside and Say Hello to Yo Pops Before I Take You to Da Movies and Keep My Hands to My Mutha Truckin’ Self Da Entire Time”
  • “Wheat Grass Aint No Joke”
  • “Straight Up Tippin Dat Hard Workin’ Waitress”
  • “Wash a Dish…Wipe a Dish”
  • “Bake a Cake for a Homeless Veteran, Cuz”
  • “I’mma Dream It, I’mma Do It”
  • “I Got 99 Problems But Bad Manners Aint One”
  • “Bustin Caps…on the Soda Bottle B4 It Go Flat”
  • “Damn It Feels Good to Turn Off a Light and Save My Parents Some Money on the Electric Bill”

All these hits and more, wherever wholesome late 90s rap songs are sold!

What were your favorite Funky Hunk jams? Post them in the comments!

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MC Plotz

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