Tag Archives: funny

Apr 19 2015
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Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog

PRESS RELEASE – Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog Reinstated as Head of Security

EAST RANDOM TOWN, USA – Bookshelf Q. Battler, Owner and Proprietor of the Bookshelf Battle Blog, has announced that after a thorough internal investigation, BQBD will be reinstated as Head of Security of the Bookshelf Battle Compound.

“I was extremely displeased when BQBD allowed The Yeti to enter onto the compound with reckless abandon,” BQB said.  “However, upon further review, I determined that BQBD is one foot tall, whereas The Yeti stands at a whopping eight feet.  In trying circumstances, BQBD fought valiantly and did what he could.  Alas, he was no match.”

BQBD - A stoic master of security. I sleep better knowing he's around.

BQBD – A stoic master of security. I sleep better knowing he’s around.

Adding to BQBD’s woes is this photo, which clearly shows the alleged guard dog licking his schnozola, completely oblivious to the puppy sneaking up behind him, preparing to swat him in the backside.

“That photo is troubling,”  Bookshelf Q. Battler said.  “However, let’s be honest.  BQBD could have easily dispatched that puppy with a karate move.  Instead, he decided to show restraint to a young lad who has yet to learn the ways of the world.  That takes guts.”

Members of the press further asked BQB what his number one pet peeve is.

“I’m glad you asked,” BQB said.  “Those idiots who share pictures of their stupid pets on their dumb blogs.  We get it.  You like your pets.  You think every little thing they do is adorable.  Who cares?  Your pets are stupid!  Stop bothering everyone with them!”

Asked for comment, BQBD released the following statement:

Woof.

BQBD – a relentless protector and a canine of few words.

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Apr 19 2015
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Ask the Alien

Ask the Alien – 4/19/15

Previously on Ask the Alien:

Alien artifacts and diseases!

Pixels!

And now Ask the Alien continues…

Greetings Earth Losers.  The greatest and most humble mind of the universe, here to answer your questions and save you all from your own incompetence.

Sigil of House Jones

BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER:  AJ!  It’s a real humdinger of a week here on Bookshelf Battle!  We have three, count ’em, a whopping 3 questions for you!

ALIEN JONES:  Holy Farzing Shazbo.  Have you been bribing winos off the street again?

BQB:  No!  They’re people!  Actual real people!

The first question this week comes from Mei-Mei of jedibyknight.com who asks:

“Lord Alien, love your house sigil/motto. Can you tell us about one of your distinguished ancestors of House Jones? Or one of the crazy ones, either way.”

Gadzooks.  That stupid sigil.  Who knew when I signed up to be a guest contributor for this blog I’d be required to participate in promotions, such as this Ren Faire disaster nonsense that Bookshelf Q. Battler will have going on until June.

BQB:  I actually do it all year round.  I only display it prominently for GOT from April-June.

ALIEN JONES:  You probably don’t want to admit that.

Anyway, I’m not privy to “Lord BQB’s” final draft, but I’m sure I’m the only Alien who makes an appearance in :::shudder::: “Game of Yetis.”

In the real world, a place that BQB should consider visiting once in awhile, aliens of my planet are cloned in a government lab and assigned a designation number.  Some of my favorite family members?

Cousin 1012049AZ1 – Ah good old Cousin 1012049AZ1.  Many a day we spent scanning for signs of intelligent life in the cosmos.  We’re still scanning.

Uncle 3XC5056089 – If I felt emotions, I imagine I’d be brimming with pride over the exploits of good old Uncle 3X.  Took down a Maloklaxon freighter with nothing but a wad of chewing gum, a paper clip, three boxes of what you call baking soda, a pair of ladies’ pantyhose (don’t ask me how he got them) and some twine.  He’s been on the Maloklaxon Most Wanted List ever since but that’s ok, because between you and me, the Maloklaxons are considered the a-holes of the universe.

Great Grandpa 19191919RFT – The black sheep of the family.  Only cured three diseases and developed two inventions.  Talk about an underachiever.  Bleh.

Thank you for your question, Mei-Mei.

NEXT QUESTION!

ALIEN JONES:  Who’s this guy?

BQB:  He’s Sci-Fi Gary!  Everybody knows Sci-Fi Gary!

ALIEN JONES:  Scanning memory banks.  Ahh…yes!  Of course Sci-Fi Gary!

As an all-knowing Alien, I was born with an inner-knowledge of every book ever written, as well as those yet to be written.  I even know about all those half-written manuscripts you all can’t finish because you’re too busy watching Mad Men.

BQB:  You know I’ve invested eight years of my life in that show and it looks like Don’s going to marry a random waitress in the end?

ALIEN JONES:  It’s Dexter all over again!

Back to Gary.  I took a peak at Amazon Author page for Gary Alan Ruse, which features many of his novels originally published in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

I’ll have you know that Bookshelf Q. Battler was a big fan of 1980’s sci-fi.  He used to watch that movie where Tom Selleck shot the robo-spiders on a continuous loop as a kid.

BQB:  Runaway

ALIEN JONES:  I would if I could but my agent says I’m locked into writing this damn column forever.

Anyway, I highly advise that you check out Gary’s stuff.  My faves:

  • Morlac – The Quest of the Green Magician
  • The Gods of Cerus Major
  • Aggie and Agent X – the cover features an alien in a trench coat who bears a striking resemblance to my old college roommate
  • Houndstooth – a secret project in which a chip is put into a dog’s brain

BQB:  Alien Jones, can you put a chip into Bookshelf Q. Battledog’s brain to keep him from using Bookshelf Battle Headquarters as his personal toilet?

ALIEN JONES:  I could but it would turn him rabid.

BQB:  Nothing new.  Hey, on a serious note, isn’t it great that authors who have had publishing success in the past have been able to use sites like Amazon to sell books to a whole new generation?

ALIEN JONES:  Indeed.  Thank you for your question, Gary.  Continue spreading your tales of intergalactic daring-do.  The comments and reviews on your books tell me you’re a respected author who has built a loyal following.

NEXT QUESTION!

ALIEN JONES:  Zounds.  A third question?  I demand a raise.

BQB:  OK.  I’ll double the nothing I pay you now.

Kai Delmas of the blog, “Of Orcs and Men” writes:

“I write a story blog about a war between orcs and humans. It’s called “Of Orcs and Men”. I thought AJ could help promote it and while he’s at it, with his infinite wisdom, he could answer some questions about orcs that I was wondering about.”

Ah yes.  Of Orcs and Men.  The first draft of Steinbeck’s classic tale of two hulking beastly creatures who roam about the Californian countryside, looking for work and getting into trouble due to Lenny the Orc’s dimwittery.  Steinbeck didn’t think it worked with both characters being big, dumb and stupid so he rewrote it as “Of Mice and Men” with both characters as humans and George being smaller and smarter.

1. Are there orcs or other fantastical creatures on other planets in the universe?

Yes.  We enjoy fantasy just as humans do.  On my planet, there is a show called Game of Brains.  It imagines a fantasy planet Earth, where the humans have them.  They never watch reality television, people are only famous if they achieve something, and stuffed crust pizza is banned.  You can your cheese on the pizza but in the crust?  Insanity!

I admit, there are some far-fetched plots on that show.  Here’s an except from last week’s show:

PETE:  Say Fred, we each practice a different religion, but let’s not start a war over it, ok?

FRED:  That’s a very sensible idea, Pete.  No need for people to die just because I pray to one man in the sky and you pray to another.

PETE:  Capital idea, Fred!  Another notion – let’s have an election where both sides provide their thoughts and points of view on various issues and leave it up to the people to decide without a constant need to paint one side or the other as a bunch of vile, baby’s candy stealing, puppy kicking lowlives?

FRED:  That makes sense, Pete.  At the end of the day, we all want we believe is best for the world.  We can voice our opinions, but there’s no need to be monsters over it.

Ahh…good old Game of Brains.  The highest rated fantasy comedy on my home planet.

2. If yes, are they smarter than us primitive earthlings?

Until we locate another planet where the inhabitants wear pajama pants to public shopping centers, I’m sorry to say that Earth wears the dunce cap of the cosmos.

3. Who does he think would win such a war between orcs and men? (Medieval times)

Men.  And hobbits.  And dwarves.  And elves.  J.R.R. Tolkien was trying to tell you all the truth about your planet’s early history.  All of his books were actually written as documentaries.

Thanks and have a wonderful stay on our planet. It’s not much, but we’re doing the best we can with our limited cerebral resources. 😉

Appreciated.  Earth?  I rarely visit that dump.  I do most of my blogging from my ship.  Once in awhile I will visit Bookshelf Q. Battler’s compound to watch Scandal.  

Aliens love Scandal.

Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Submit it to Bookshelf Q. Battler via a tweet to @bookshelfbattle, leave it in the comment section on this site, or drop it off on the Bookshelf Battle Google + page. If AJ likes your question, he might promote your book, blog, or other project while providing his answer.

Submit your questions by midnight Friday each week for a chance to be featured in his Sunday column. And if you don’t like his response, just let him know and he’ll file it into the recycling bin of his monolithic super computer. No muss, no fuss, no problem.

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Apr 18 2015
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The Yeti

A Very Important Yeti Related Press Conference

BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER:  All right then.  Settle down now.  I know you’ve all come to hear the exciting JORNALnews, but there’s no need to act like a bunch of uncouth barbarians, is there?

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press.

In early March, due to a pathetic performance of his duties, Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog, Head of Bookshelf Battle Headquarters Security, failed miserably in his mission to secure the premises and allowed my arch enemy, The Yeti, to enter.

Upon spying the intruder, I did what any civilized gentleman would do.  I challenged him to a best two out of three roundhouse kick to the face competition.  Whoever landed two direct kicks to the opponent’s face first would be allowed to stay.

The Yeti, who is more intelligent than his poor grooming habits would have you think, made use of a loophole by kicking me in the face with both feet at the same time.  Amazingly, he still managed to do it roundhouse style.  Two feet on my face in one turn allowed him to remain in my compound and take me as a hostage and my abode as his own.

The Yeti, as you may recall, believes that all should leave a bland, boring life – one free of excitement and intrigue.  I, on the other hand, with my witty stories and fabulous posts, spread joy to the hearts of my 3.5 readers everyday.

Don’t believe me?  Just read this review of my blog written by a total stranger I have absolutely never met before:

The Bookshelf Battle Blog doesn’t completely suck.

Sincerely,

Not Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Aunt Gertie

Thank you Stranger Who is Not Aunt Gertie.

Shortly after determining that The Yeti was, in fact, a Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater, I challenged him with another bet.  I wagered that I could get 4,000 followers on twitter.  If I got them, he had to leave.  We never negotiated what he’d get if I failed because, you know, he’s a stupid yeti.

The Yeti, confident that I could never acquire such a cornucopia of followers, took that action.  Today, I am proud to say I have 4000 followers.  4008 the last time I checked.

The Yeti has now been defeated, my honor restored, and Bookshelf Battle HQ is once again secure.

I will now take your questions.

REPORTER #1 – BQB, Joe Fakenamer for Who Cares Digest here.

BQB:  A fine publication.

REPORTER #1 – Now that you have proven that you are, in fact, better in every way than The Yeti, will you cast him out of Bookshelf Battle HQ as promised?

BQB:  No.

GASPS ALL AROUND

BQB:  Joe, we as writers need to be professional and courteous to everyone, even our worst critics.  The Yeti, who once lived in Siberia and shared a tent with three hundred other Yetis, has become used to American culture.  Frankly, he’s a pampered Yeti know and I can’t just send him out on his own.  I will allow him to stay at BQB HQ indefinitely.

REPORTER 2 – Emily Hotchkiss of Woogy Waggy Times here.  What would you say to critics who claim you’re a two-bit hack who just uses “The Yeti” as a prop for when you’ve run out of things to say in during your ill-advised one post a day challenge.

BQB:  I’d say they’re not inaccurate.

REPORTER #2 – Huh?

BQB:  What?

So there you have it folks.  The Yeti will now live in the basement and I will begin the long process of having a team of 1000 hair removal experts remove all of the hair from the remainder of the compound.

Continue to tune in as hi jinx are likely to ensue when two mortal enemies live under the same roof.

Newspaper graphic courtesy of Vasco Soares on openclipart.org

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Apr 18 2015
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Game of Thrones, Game of Yetis

Game of Yetis on Wattpad

Dear 3.5 Readers,

I hate to call it fan fiction, but I suppose there’s no other label.  Game of Yetis is basically me just goofing around and having fun with my favorite TV show.

I posted the first part on Wattpad, mainly out of an experiment to discover the process of posting something over there.

I had no cover other than the “House Bookshelf” banner from the GOT sigil creator.

But it turns out, it’s fairly simple to put up a story.

Even better, I was able to pull it up on my phone – it felt very “e-bookish” and for good or ill, seeing something I wrote in a mobile digital format, no matter how trivial, caused that little old self-publishing bug to sink its teeth into me that much harder.

Crap.  I might actually have to start doing some work around here.

We’re 5 parts in on Game of Yetis here on bookshelfbattle.com, but should you desire to read Game of Yetis while out on the town (and let’s be honest, if that urge hits you, you must be on a real lousy day), then head on over to Wattpad:

Game of Yetis on Wattpad

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Apr 17 2015
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Game of Yetis

Game of Yetis – Part 5 – House Bookshelf

Previously on Game of Yetis:

PART 1 – House Bookshelf – Lord BQB hides out from the War for the Iron Throne, coming up with various excuses as to why he’s been unable to assist various claimants to the throne all the while positioning himself to declare allegiance to whoever emerges as the victor. Alas, a complication in his plan arises when a band of Yetis under the control of Lord Yeti abscond with his supplies of snacks and Dew of the Mountain.

PART 2 – House Yeti – Lord Yeti of House Yeti, the ruler of Yetifell, a territory North of the Wall, where abominable snowmen love to frolic because it is ridiculous cold, mocks his son Yetyrion, calling him a dwarf because he is 6’5″ (which is really short for a Yeti).

PART 3 – House Bookshelf – The usually not so easily rattled Lord BQB is enraged when he discovers that his supply of Special Edition Code Red Dew of the Mountain has been stolen by dirty yetis in the employ of Lord Yeti of House Yeti. Unable to purchase an army of eunuchs because Daenerys Stormborn bogarted them all, he turns to his trusty banner men. Alas, they were only in it for the Dew of the Mountain and now Lord BQB must fight this battle alone.

PART 4 – House Yeti – Lord Yeti is aghast when he spies white walkers on their way to Yetifell.

And now Game of Yetis continues…

“This journey has been agonizing, Maester Monty.  I’m not sure if I can put up with this any longer.”

Maester Monty wiped beads of sweat off his brow and stopped to rest.  The old man was out of breath and felt feint.

“I didn’t say stop, Monty,”  Lord BQB said as the Maester set down the rickshaw he’d used to carry his Lord from the shores of Casterly Rock all the way to Riverrun.  “I’m just saying, you know, all of these bumps along the road.  They’re very unsettling and causing me to spill my…what did you say this clear, tasteless liquid was called again?”

“Water, sir,”  Monty replied as he heaved the handles of the rickshaw onto his decrepit shoulders and marched forward.

“Blech,”  Lord BQB as he took a swig from a jug.  “Disgusting.  We must recover my Special Edition Code Red Dew of the Mountain without delay.  Mush, Monty, Mush!”

“Mushing sir,”  Monty replied.

They continued along the King’s road for hours until a question popped into Maester Monty’s mind.

“My Lord, if I may be so bold, why have you never married?”

Lord BQB bit into an apple and winced.

“Yuck,”  Lord BQB said, ignoring the question.  “People really eat these things, Monty?”

“Indeed sir.  They’re considered most healthy.”

“The shame of it, Monty,”  Lord BQB said.  “The dirty yeti eating my slim jims while I’m forced to waste away on water and apples like a flea bottom beggar.”

“Yes, but the question sir?”

“Oh yes,”  Lord BQB said as he stared at the setting sun.  “If you must know, Monty.  I am partial only to a particular type of woman…one that is difficult to locate.”

“Elaborate, sir?”  Monty asked, as he struggled to not collapse under the rickshaw.

“I like big women.”

“Oh my lord,”  Monty said.  “Surely there are many fine corpulent ladies throughout the Kingdom that you might choose from.”

“No no no,”  Lord BQB said as he tossed the apple core at Monty’s head.  “I don’t mean big in that way, though this Lord has nothing against a bit of junk in the trunk as it were.  No, Monty, I prefer women tall in stature.  My whole life I’ve waited for a beautiful extra tall amazon to sweep me off my feat, provide me with all of the love and care that I deserve, and most importantly, be willing to hack my enemies to pieces.”

“That will be a tough woman to locate indeed, my Lord.”

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Apr 15 2015
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Game of Yetis

Game of Yetis – Part 3 – House Bookshelf

Previously on Game of Yetis:

PART 1 – House Bookshelf – Lord BQB hides out from the War for the Iron Throne, coming up with various excuses as to why he’s been unable to assist various claimants to the throne all the while positioning himself to declare allegiance to whoever emerges as the victor.  Alas, a complication in his plan arises when a band of Yetis under the control of Lord Yeti abscond with his supplies of snacks and Dew of the Mountain.

PART 2 – House Yeti –  Lord Yeti of House Yeti, the ruler of Yetifell, a territory North of the Wall, where abominable snowmen love to frolic because it is ridiculous cold, mocks his son Yetyrion, calling him a dwarf because he is 6’5″ (which is really short for a Yeti).

And now Game of Yetis continues…

When Joffrey took the head of his good friend Ned Stark, Lord Bookshelf Q. Battler didn’t cry a tear.

When his old roommate Theon Greyjoy (from that semester at Winterfell Tech) had his, um, appendage removed, Lord BQB chalked it up to “cost of doing royal business.”

When Lord BQB heard that the Stark family was butchered at the Red Wedding, his only comment was, “That must have made the chicken dance awkward.”

Whether Lord BQB was cold or if he’d just grown accustomed to life in a cold world is a question for the ages.  Needless to say, he was a lord who was not easily rattled.

But when Lord BQB saw his supply room bare and a band of filthy yetis running out the back door with his barrels of Dew of the Mountain, he bellowed a terrible scream that was heard all the way up to the wall, down as far as Dorne, and it even made its way across the Narrow Sea.

To this day, there are Dothraki who, during rare moments when they aren’t fornicating or beating each other senseless, ask, “What was that guy yelling about?”

“MY DEW OF THE MOUNTAIN!!!”

“There there,”  Maester Monty said as he patted Lord BQB on the back.  “There will always be more Dew of the Mountain.”

Lord BQB sniffed and looked up at his trusted elderly confidant.  “But it was the Special Limited Edition Code Red Dew of the Mountain.”

“Oh my,”  Maester Monty said.  “That is a travesty, my Lord.”

Lord BQB stood up, withdrew his sword, waved it high in the air and proclaimed, “In the light of the Seven, I shall hack every Yeti I see to ribbons until I get my Dew of the Mountain back.”

“A tall order, my Lord,”  Maester Monty said.  “Yetis are fearsome beasts.”

“You’re right,”  Lord BQB said.  “We’ll need back up.  Send a raven across the Narrow Sea to that place where the Khaleesi gets all her Eunuchs.  What’s it called? ‘Eunuchs R Us?'”

“I’m afraid word has it that the Khaleesi had her dragons burn up the slavers who produced the Unsullied,”  Maester Monty said.

“Confound her hide!”  Lord BQB shouted.  “Isn’t that convenient?  She takes all the Eunuchs for herself, then burns up the Eunuch store so nobody else can have one!”

“Perhaps your banner men might assist you?”  the maester asked.

“Of course!  My banner men!  They are zealously loyal and will follow me to the gates of hell if I ask them!  Quickly!  To the barracks!”

Lord BQB and Maester Monty walked all the way to the living quarters of the Shelftopia banner men.  It was completely bare, save for the following note:

Dear Lord BQB:

We was only in it for the free Dew of the Mountain, we was.  Now that you ‘aint got any, we’s goin’ splitsville we is.

Sincerely,

Your Ex-Bannermen

“Blast!”  Lord BQB said.  “You just can’t get good banner men these days!”

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Apr 10 2015
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Game of Yetis

Game of Yetis Part 1- House Bookshelf

And ye, as the war for the Iron Throne of Westeros raged on, another battle gripped the Island of

Sigil of House Bookshelf

Sigil of House Bookshelf

Shelftopia, a lush island a few miles off the coast of Casterly Rock.

Shelftopia was under the control of House Bookshelf, the leader of which was the devastatingly handsome and exceptionally charming Lord Bookshelf Q. Battler.  (No, he did not write this himself).

“Bringeth me mine fool for mine entertainment!” commanded Lord BQB, who spent most of his days

playing X-Box and consuming mass quantities of Doritos and Dew of the Mountain, for chicks diggeth a man who can hold his Dew of the Mountain..

Maester Monty, a decrepit hunchback who served as Lord BQB’s personal lackey and manservant, popped on a jingly bell hat and danced a robust jig, albeit with little enthusiasm.

“Why so glum, Maester Monty?”  Lord BQB inquired.  “While Westeros burns, Shelftopia prospers!  We have managed to stay out of the fray altogether, holed up here in my glorious palace, with nothing to do but play video games!  The best part?  When the dust settles, we shall be perfectly poised to declare our affections and loyalty to whoever happens to be the last man or woman standing!”

“Speaking of, my lord, you may wish to rescind your congratulatory letter to Robb Stark.”

“Why?”  Lord BQB asked.  “Did he quit the war to write fan fiction?  Only losers write fan fiction.  Beat me vigorously with my own entrails if you should ever find me writing fan fiction, Maester Monty!”

“Indeed, my lord,”  Maester Monty replied.  “And no.  I’m afraid the Young Wolf and Lady Catelyn are very much…well…dead.  Died at a wedding.”

“Come again?”  a stunned Lord BQB asked.  “A wedding you say?”

“Lulled into a false sense of friendship and security by Walder Frey, then hacked to pieces.”

“Get out!”

“I shall get in, sir.”

“Wow,”  said Lord BQB.  “Almost makes you wonder if we all just live inside the mind of an elderly sadist who lives to torture us in unexpected ways.”

“Indeed sir.”

“Very well then,”  Lord BQB said as he sucked from his chalice of Dew of the Mountain. Take a letter, Maester:

Dearest Lord Tywin,

Greetings from Shelftopia and a thousand apologies for being unable to pledge myself and my bannermen to your righteous cause.  We were very much looking forward to being hacked to pieces on the field of battle but alas we all came down with a horrendous case of the crabs and well, you can’t bloody well swing a sword when you’re as itchy as all get out, can you?

Many congratulations on your treachery vis a vis having the Starks gutted like pigs at the wedding feast.  Talk about thinking outside the box!  Save me a seat at the victory party because I was totally behind you the entire time.

Yours Truly, Lord BQB of House Bookshelf, Lord of Shelftopia, etcetera etcetera and so on…

“About that sir,”  the Maester said.  “Lord Tywin died as well.”

“Ah,”  Lord BQB said as he munched on a fistful of Doritos.  “Stabbed in the gut in battle I suppose?”

“The toilet.”

“Excuse me?”

“Shot with an arrow whilst on the commode by his son, Tyrion.”

“An arrow in the gut whilst relieving his bowels on the toilet?”  Lord BQB asked, a stunned expression on his face.  “Deaths at weddings!! Deaths on the can!  Does anyone die in battle anymore???”

“Apparently not, my Lord,”  Maester Monty said.  “Speaking of, your bannermen accused you of being a reprehensible coward for not choosing a side in the war.”

“Me?  A coward?”  Lord BQB asked as he slapped his forehead in disgust.  “I’m the only sensible one in the whole bloody realm!”

“How so?”

“Monty,”  Lord BQB continued.  “Here’s something you need to know about politics.  One man says he’ll be a great King.  Another man says he will be even better.  Truth be told?  They’re all morally bankrupt charlatans and all we can do is go with the one who will cause the least amount of turmoil.”

“Rather pessimistic approach to the problem, sir…”

“Like I told Ned Stark,”  Lord BQB said as he paced up and down the floor of his chamber.  “‘Ned, so what if that little shit Joffrey is the product of unspeakably horrid brother on sister action?  What’s the alternative?  Stannis swoops in and has anyone who looks at the Red Lady cross-eyed drawn and quartered?  Just let the little twerp have the throne because it isn’t like there’s anyone who’s any better and at least this way you’ll keep your head.”

“Makes sense now that you put it that way,”  Monty said.

“Seven Hells, if only more than 3.5 subjects would listen to my brilliance!”

Lord BQB popped open a bag of funions and offered some to the Maester, who delighted in taking a handful.

“Well I suppose with Tywin out of the picture and Joffrey dead from another wedding gone wrong, it’ll be Cersei running the show working her boy Tommen like a puppet.  Take a letter!”

Dearest Queen-Regent Cersei:

Congratulations on finally finding yourself at the top of the game, now that your esteemed father hath croaked on the crapper at the hands of your treacherous imp brother, leaving you free to warp King Tommen’s mind to your will.

Please know that I was with you all along and I apologize profusely for being unable to join your forces on the field of battle but alas, I was required to stay in my palace in order to receive the painting repairman.  A painting of my noble self has been broken for weeks and of course, those bloody wretches at the painting repair company give you an open window of 9-5 fortnights for their arrival, and then at the end they usually just send a raven to tell you that they’ll have to reschedule.

The nerve!  The whole time I sat in my palace, completely enraged that I was missing out on the opportunity to be hacked to pieces in the name of the Queen.

Save me a seat at the victory party, for I was totally behind you the entire time.

Sincerely,

Lord BQB, Head Honcho of Bookshelf Manor and so on and so forth

P.S. – By the by, I never bought that malarkey that you and your brother were engaged in salacious activities.  Joffrey totally looks like the late King Baratheon if you ask me.  I mean, if he were the product of an illicit union between you and Ser Jamie, the kid would have like 5 eyes and 3 heads wouldn’t he?  That’s just science.

“I would not assume that Cersei has this locked up, my lord,”  Maester Monty said.  “There is another player.”

“Who?”

“Daenerys Targaryen.”

“The Khaleesi?”  Lord BQB asked.

“The same.”

“Get out!”  Lord BQB said.  “Very well.  Hold the raven on that letter to Cersei.  Take another letter.”

Dearest Khaleesi…

Oookie tookie ba dookie dookie…

“She speaks the common tongue, my lord,”  Monty noted.

“Ah!”  Lord BQB said.  “Take it again from the top!”

Dearest Daenerys Stormborn, Rightful Queen of Westeros, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, yadda yadda yadda, holy shit this woman has a lot of titles, don’t write that Monty:

Greetings from the Lord of Shelftopia!  Congratulations in your war against slavery and for having all the masters put on pikes and so on.  My apologies for not joining you in battle but alas, I stubbed my toe in a training exercise, the point of which was to prepare to be hacked to pieces whilst fighting for your honor, my Khaleesi!

Please know that I was with you the entire time.  If you hear rumors that I was behind Robb Stark, Tywin, or Cersei, well, that’s a load of crap.  I have been Khaleesi or bust the whole time.  Dragons, baby!  Bring on the dragons!

Good luck on your journey across the narrow sea and smash a few usurpers for me!  Save me a seat at your victory party!

Sincerely,

Lord BQB, titles titles and so on.

“Then it again it could be Jon Snow,”  the Maester said.

“Oh for the love of,”  Lord BQB said.  “Fine!  Send a letter to every jerk face in the 7 Kingdoms who thinks he or she has a claim to the Iron Throne and tell them I’m with them!  There!  Done!”

“Right away.”

“Thank goodness my snack stores are plentiful,”  Lord BQB said.  “It sounds like this war will be going on forever.  Luckily I have enough Doritos, Funions, Ring Dings, Ho Hos, Slim Jims and other assorted high cholesterol crap to get me through the long winter.”

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the opposite side of the palace.

Lord BQB made haste, running to his snack storage room to find a band of yetis absconding with his snacks!

“Who are you foul furry beasts?”  Lord BQB asked.  “Explain yourselves!”

“We are the bannermen of Lord Yeti of House Yeti!”  said one of the yetis.  “We plunder your snack reserves in the name of our noble lord!”

Join us next time, for another exciting installment of…Game of Yetis!

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Apr 09 2015
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TV

In Memoriam – Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane

HAZZARD COUNTY, GA – Flags are flying at half-mast in Hazard County as the citizenry pay their last respects to infamous lawman, Rosco P. Coltrane.

“Why I do declare this is the saddest day Hazzard County has ever known,”  said County Commissioner Jefferson Davis “Boss” Hogg.  “Sadder than that time Bo and Luke Duke were replaced for a season by Coy and Vance.  Even sadder than that 2000’s movie with Johnny Knoxville.  Rosco was a top notch Sheriff and an even better lackey/henchmen/bumbling dupe in my hair-brained schemes.  Why, if you were to total the numerous times I was disappointed when my schemes and scams aimed at relieving the Dukes from their precious farm failed miserably, you would still not begin to reach the level of disappointment I feel at having lost our beloved Sheriff Coltrane.”

Sheriff Coltrane, seen here with his beloved pooch, Flash.

Sheriff Coltrane, seen here with his beloved pooch, Flash.

“Every week it was pretty much the same thing,” said Deputy Cletus Hogg, who has long insisted his hiring as Deputy had nothing to do with nepotism.  “We’d chase them Duke boys.  For some reason Rosco would have a hard time finding them even though they drove a bright orange charger with a confederate flag painted on it in a backwater area that didn’t have that many cars to begin with.  Eventually, the chase would end with them Duke boys getting away and Rosco’s car ending up smashed or in a ditch or something.”

When asked why Sheriff Coltrane never bothered to reconnoiter with state police and arrest the Dukes at their Uncle Jesse’s farm, where they lived out in the open, Deputy Hogg scratched his head and replied, “Damn.  Wish we’d thought of that.  Oh well.”

Bo and Luke Duke were interviewed at Uncle Jesse’s farm.  When contacted by this reporter, they were loading jugs of clear liquid into the back of the General Lee, which they insisted were not moonshine.

“We’re very sad to have lost our arch nemesis,”  Bo said.  “We realize though that Rosco was more or less a puppet of Boss Hogg so we never really held a grudge against him.

“Even though there was that time that Boss Hogg tried to evict Uncle Jesse from the farm under false pretenses,”  Luke said.

“And that time he tried to frame Uncle Jesse to get the farm,”  Bo added.

“Pretty much every week Boss Hogg and Rosco were trying to get their grubby mitts on the farm,”  Luke said.

Cousin Daisy was unavailable for comment as she was busy cutting the legs off her jeans.  Uncle Jesse was too busy making clear liquid, which he too insisted was not moonshine.  However, in a display of his trademarked Southern hospitality, stated to this reporter, “Y’all come back now, ya heah?”

Local mechanic Cooter thanked Coltrane, noting that the weekly repairs he had to make to Coltrane’s car following botched chases with the Duke boys allowed him to retire a rich man.

Sheriff Coltrane passed peacefully.  His last words were, “Gyoo gyoo, gyoo gyoo!  Them Dukes, Them Dukes!!!”

In a related story, James Best, the actor who played Coltrane, also passed.  He was awesome and in addition to Coltrane, appeared in a number of serious roles.  He will be missed.

Some might argue that since Best appeared in over 80 movies and 600 TV shows, it’s a bit unfair that he’s best remembered for playing a bumbling incompetent Southern Sheriff.  However, most press reports read by this reporter indicate that Mr. Best was a good sport and was cool with it.

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Apr 08 2015
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TV

Man Problems – Are You a Don Draper or a Louis CK?

Hello, 3.5 readers.

I’m a man.  I have problems.  Are you a woman?  Yes, I know you also have problems.  But I can only write about what I know.

There are some man problems I know all too well.  There are other man problems I know nothing about.

SPOILERS AHEAD

DON DRAPER

On one side of the spectrum, there’s Don Draper of Mad Men fame (aka Jon Hamm).

Don has problems.  He has more women than he knows what to do with.  He cheats on all of them constantly and when one of them gets fed up, another soon arrives, fully aware of the cad’s ne’er-do-well-lifestyle but willing to give it a go anyway.  Maybe she’ll be the one to change him.

In short, Don has some problems I wouldn’t mind having.

Oh AMC. First, you fill my Sunday nights with zombies and murderous drifters. Then, you replace them with ennui laden 1960's era ad executives. Is there no middle ground with you?

Oh AMC. First, you fill my Sunday nights with zombies and murderous drifters. Then, you replace them with ennui laden 1960’s era ad executives. Is there no middle ground with you?

Don lives in a world I know nothing about.  In fact, though I’ve never received the memo, I’m getting a sneaking suspicion that I most likely never will.

It’s a world where Don, as recently as Sunday’s final season premiere, walks into a diner, propositions a waitress, and within seconds they are engaging in flagrante delicto in a back alley.

Not for nothing, but I’m fairly certain had I tried to pull a stunt like that, I’d be tazed and pepper sprayed unmercifully.

Oh wait, it’s the 1960’s.  She would have just cracked my skull with a rolling pin.

Don’s problems?  Which one of these women do I go out with tonight?  Which one of these women will I go out with and not tell the others about?  Which one of these women that I used to go out with do I miss and want to see again?  And how soon can I make another deal with my charm so I can grab some more money that I can use, naturally, to impress more women?  Not that I need money to get women because, hey, look at me, but the extra cash doesn’t hurt.

Of course, Don is full of inner turmoil.  He had a harsh childhood.  He grew up poor – an unwanted urchin in a house of ill repute.  When he becomes an adult,  he hits it big, gets a taste of the good life and he becomes trapped in a paradox – life is short so he feels the urge to drink and get busy as often as possible.  However, deep in his soul he realizes that no amount of cavorting can replace the love and stability of a loyal woman and along the way, he loses two wives to his bad habits.

I’m just going to throw it out there.  Toss me January Jones and I’m a happy camper.  Sorry everyone, no carousing for me.  I have to get home to January.

Yep.  Mad Men would be very boring if I were the star.

Don has problems.  I’ll never know any of them.  Stop being so depressed Don.  Trade lives me with anytime.

LOUIS CK

At the other side of the man-a-verse spectrum is…”Louis Louis Louis Louis.”  (You have to sing the theme song.)

Oh Louis.  I know many of your problems so well.  Not all of them, but many.  I truly feel your pain.

Louis, when I see the expression of utter defeat on your mug, I can feel your misery, because I make the same face a hundred times a day.  It looks like this:

I know that look.

I know that look.

Do you know what that look is called?  It is the “I’m trying as hard as I can and nothing is going my way!” look.  Defeat.  Surrender.  “OK world.  You got me.”

Poor Louis.  All he wants is to be happy and yet that long sought after emotion evades him at every turn.

And contrary to what everyone in his world thinks, it’s not for a lack of trying.

Don Draper?  Sure, he feels the occasional pang of sadness when he misses his kids, but he quickly dulls the pain with the next short skirted secretary to walk by.

Louis?  He loves his kids.  He wants to do right by them.  He only sees them a couple days a week and you can tell that weighs on him terribly – that the collapse of his marriage and the subsequent inability to not be with his children daily is a failure that haunts and suffocates him.  He holds the time he has with them sacred and doesn’t let anything interfere.

Love?  Louis wants to find it.  Do you remember Seinfeld?   That other show about a comedian?  Jerry had a bevy of beauties, a new one to be mocked or offended by Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer every week.

For the most part, Louis dates average women.  He doesn’t shoot for the stars.  You can’t accuse the guy of swinging for the fences because he’s staying in his league.  And yet, things inevitably go south for him anyway.

He takes a woman to a diner.  A group of unruly teenagers harass and threaten him.  Louis does the right thing – he lets it go.  Are insults worth getting in a physical fight over?  No.  But his date thinks less of him and won’t see him again.  It isn’t easy being a man.  Even in today’s allegedly equal, liberated, forward thinking world, a man who turns the other cheek in the face of a threat is considered a wuss.

On another date, a potential love interest informs Louis that she has children.  Stand-up guy that he is, Louis tells her not to worry – he also has kids.  Quickly, the woman turns sour and skeedaddles.  She wanted a man who would be accepting of her children but in an ironic twist, thought less of a man with kids of his own.

There’s Pam, who constantly harangues Louis with one putdown after another.  She dumps him and later tries to come back, fully expecting that Louis will welcome her with open arms.  She’s shocked to learn he’s in a relationship with Amia, as if the idea that ugly old Louis found someone else is impossible to believe.

Speaking of Amia, she’s Louis’ perfect soulmate but of course, she has to move back to her native Hungary.

Sure, occasionally a hot woman will show an interest in Louis, but even then, it doesn’t end well.  A supermodel-esque blonde in attendance at one of Louis’ shows invites the comedian back to her place.  In a freak accident, Louis unintentionally elbows her in the eye, causing her permanent damage and a hefty lawsuit that he can ill afford.

Luck is not on Louis’ side.  Have you ever heard the expression, “Anything bad that can happen will, and at the worst possible moment?”  That’s Louis’ life and I have more in common with a man like Louis than I ever will with Don “I wonder which model I’ll get jiggy with today” Draper.

Thought of as a loser by his ex-wife, a dufus by his kids, and a real mensch by his friends – Louis is that reliable guy that everyone instantly calls when they need help, but the favor is rarely returned when he needs something.  Worse, no matter how far out of his way he goes for people, they still end up looking at him like a chump.

Bald.  Paunchy.  Not very good looking at all.  Louis is the champion of defeated males everywhere – those who have resigned themselves to a fate where’d they’d be happy if a woman smiles at them.  “Well life, how much crap are you going to spoon feed me today?  Whatever.  Bring it on.  I’m ready for it.”

We Louis types are in awe of a Don Draper and fail to even comprehend how his lifestyle even exists.

We live on the same planet and yet, Louis CKs and Don Drapers live in completely different worlds.

So, what are you?  A Don Draper or a Louis CK?

I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that since you’re reading a book blog with 3.5 readers, you probably trend more toward Louis.

Don’t be insulted.  So do most men, even though we hate to admit it.

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Apr 06 2015
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TV

Daryl Crashes SNL

http://entertainthis.usatoday.com/2015/04/06/norman-reedus-snl-weekend-update-walking-dead/

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