Tag Archives: health

Dec 29 2016
5 Comments
Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB – What Can We Learn From Buddhism?

If I’m understanding Buddhism correctly, and I probably am not, life and in particular, all of the material and greedy pursuits that we tend to seek are fleeting and impermanent, therefore they can never make us truly happy so we should either stop chasing them or if we do chase them we should not feel bad if we fail because had we succeeded we were eventually going to lose whatever it was that we were pursuing anyway.

The big house, the fancy car, the supermodel girlfriend with the giant fake boobs – these will all be lost sooner or later so rather than beat yourself up for not achieving them, focus on calmness of mind and spirit and meditate.

If your mind starts to dwell on mistakes you made in the past, mistakes you made that cause you to hate yourself because you feel they prevented you from getting the big house, the fancy car and the girlfriend with the big fake boobs, then close your eyes and mediate.  Focus on your breathing, focus your mind on thinking about nothing, repeat a mantra and chant it over and over again, essentially distract your mind.  You will only feel bad if you keep rehashing all of your failures in your mind.  Focus instead on meditation.

It’s basically like those shirts – “Keep calm and…”  Well, instead of “and drink beer” or whatever, it’s “Keep Calm and Meditate.”

Anyway, I’m sure there are better buddhists out there who could explain this better.  I tend to research subjects related to novels I am working on at the moment so don’t mind me, I’ll be researching something else in the next five minutes.

Also, in theory, I feel like the girlfriend with the big fake boobs would be a calming influence but only if you could have access to the big fake boobs without the ensuing problems that go with them but let’s keep it real.  She’d probably bring a lot of drama into your life, want all your money, leave you broke, cheat on you with the pool boy and so on.

Until they invent robot girlfriends with big fake boobs, meditation may be our only hope for staying calm.

What say you, 3.5 readers?

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Nov 12 2016
2 Comments
Tomfoolery

I’m Thinking About Becoming Amish

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Hello 3.5 Englishes,

Your old pal BQB here.

So check it out.

I’m thinking about becoming Amish for the following reasons:

#1 – Too much stress.  Too much technology.

That’s two reasons. Too much stressful technology? OK now it is one.

Cell phones were a great invention but really never should have evolved other than you have a device you can use to call someone and ask for help if you find yourself in a jam.

YES – “I’ve run my car off the road and need help!”

NO – “Hello this is your boss. I know you are on vacation but I need to talk to you on the phone right now while you are sitting on the toilet in the bathroom of a Tijuana Señor Frog’s.”

3.5 READERS: But BQB what about your blog?

Good riddance, infernal blog! Who needs you? Always pestering me to update you just to entertain 3.5 readers.

NOTE: I’m just kidding. I love you blog and 3.5 readers.

#2 – Health – Diet and Exercise

Have you ever seen a fat Amish guy? No!

Why? First they’re always exercising. But they’re not going to gym like assholes and running around on a treadmill like a goddamn hamster on a wheel are they?

No. They are not. They are raising barns and churning butter and planting crops and so on.

Shit actually happens when they exercise.

Wait. You know what? Up until like 1950 people didn’t even think to call strenuous activity “exercise.” They just called it “doing shit.”

Here’s what people were like:

CHESTER: Hey Bob! You doing some shit on your farm?

BOB: Sure am, Chester. I’m doing all this shit on my farm, then later I’m going to pickup some heavy shit and move some shit and dig up some shit and plant some shit. You off to do some shit of your own?

CHESTER: Of course. Gotta get to my farm where I will also do a ton of shit. In fact, I got a long ass fuckin’ walk to my farm and I’ll tell you even that wears the shit out of me. But once I walk to my farm I’m going to do a lot of shit.

BOB: Boy howdy, doing shit sure does keep you from becoming a fat fuck doesn’t it?

CHESTER: What’s a fat fuck, Bob? I’ve never seen or heard of one before.

BOB: I think I saw one in a picture book once. Some egghead scientist theorized that if people ever stop doing shit they’ll get really fat.

CHESTER: Aint that some shit?

 

But now we’ve got cars and computers and gadgets and shit so a lot of the heavy lifting is gone.

Second reason why you never see a fat Amish guy – they’ve got good diets.

Seriously. They don’t have Amish McDonalds. They no quiero Taco Bell. They don’t have processed foods.

You know what their food process is? They pull a damn carrot out of the ground and shove it in their suck hole and then if they want a steak they cut it off the ass of the cow that has been their family friend for years.

That in and of itself would get me to stop eating meat and become a vegetarian.

I love steak and burgers, but only as long as some nameless butcher in some factory somewhere is hacking the cow to pieces somewhere far, far away where I never see it.

If I have to hack the cow up then I’ll just eat carrots instead. I’m not going to bond with Bossy the cow and then be all like, “I’m hungry so time to die, Bossy.”

And I love chicken, especially chicken tenders and chicken nuggets…but not enough to wrap my hands around a chicken’s neck and strangle the ever loving shit out of it until I watch all of that chicken’s hopes and dreams fade from its eyes as the last bit of its life force exits its feathery carcass.

No thank you. Fuck that. Pass the broccoli.  And no matter how many reports I get that broccoli is good for you, I will never forego red meat and chicken meat in the name of broccoli unless I’m Amish.

#3 – Romance Simplified

Oh my God.  Dating is such bullshit.

Just arrange my marriage when I’m five.  Or you know what? Just let me choose.  The one in the bonnet or the other one in the bonnet.

And let her choose too. This isn’t Communist Russia.  Let her choose between me, the one in the beard and the hat or the other one in the beard and the hat.

I’m sure there is a modicum of bullshit that enters into Amish dating.

“Oh, I was going to marry Ezekiel but Jedediah has raised far more many barns!”

But that’s fine. I’ll just raise a lot of barns. At least then I know what to do. Here in the modern world women get mad at you and you never know why and even they don’t know why.

But in Amish world its simple. You just haven’t raised enough barns and you need to raise some more and then you will be able to get your hands on an Amish babe’s sweet, sweet ankle.

CONCLUSIONS

So that’s it.

Those are my three reasons.

I want to be Amish so I can kick technology to the curb, exercise more, eat less and eat more nutritious food and impress women by raising barns.

What say you, 3.5 readers? Am I on to something here? Do you want to become Amish with me?

Who’s down?

 

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Aug 21 2016
4 Comments
Tomfoolery

BQB’s Quitting Soda Journal

I’ve got a problem, 3.5 readers.Gerald-G-Fast-Food-Drinks-FF-Menu-4

Some people toke the ganja.

Others pop the pills.

There are people who even fill their nostrils with Bolivian Nose Candy.

Me? I chase a fizzy, bubbly dragon known as diet soda.

Sure, the love affair started out simply enough.

So many years ago, I needed to stay awake longer so I could study harder.

I thought all the studying would lead me to become a great man.

Had I known the height of my achievement would be to become the proprietor of a blog with 3.5 readers my responses would have been “What’s a blog?” and “Oh, I guess I’ll study less and sleep more then.”

Anyway, as the years went on, I became thoroughly hooked on the fizz.

It’s a vicious cycle.  I feel like I need it to stay awake.  But then because I’m jacked up on the caffeine, I can’t sleep.  And then because I didn’t sleep enough, I’m tired during the day, so I reach for a soda.

Oh and the diet soda isn’t always enough.  Sometimes I go for the hard stuff. Full on calorie laden regular cola.

And you know, if it were just me, I’d give in to the fizzy dragon.  I’d let the aspartame and sodium and caffeine and god knows what else course through my veins until I keep over in a pool of carbonated brown sugar water.

But its not me anymore.  Its me and my 3.5 readers and damn it, my 3.5 readers need me.

Who will entertain my 3.5 readers but me?

Who will feed the minds of my 3.5 readers but me?

Who will make my 3.5 readers feel better about themselves because at least they have accomplished more than starting a blog with 3.5 readers but me?

My 3.5 readers need me and I must live a long, happy, healthy life in order to entertain them.

Thus, I’m doing this for you, 3.5 readers.

Today, I will suck down my last soda.

Tomorrow, I begin the long walk to soda fiend recovery.

That’s right.  No soda pills. No soda patches. No soda 12-step programs.  No soda rehab centers.

I’m going cold turkey baby.

And I’ll update you once in awhile on how the soda quitting efforts are going.

I hope this will inspire you to drop your bad habits, 3.5 readers.  Or if you don’t have any, to not develop any.

Thanks for reading, 3.5.  As usual, you’re a trio and a half of good eggs.

Sincerely,

Eduardo Ricardo Papageorgio Von Finklestein (Better known to his 3.5 readers as Bookshelf Q. Battler or BQB)

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Aug 10 2016
8 Comments
Tomfoolery

Is Flossing Good For You?

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3.5 readers, I’d like to share an important detail about myself with you:

I’m a flosser.

Oh how I love to floss.

I don’t use the regular string floss. I use those floss picks – the plastic ones with the floss strung between two ends.

Love ’em.

My teeth never feel clean without them and oh my God, the things I have pulled out of my teeth over the years that I never even knew where there:

THINGS I HAVE PULLED OUT OF MY TEETH WITH FLOSS THAT I OTHERWISE WOULD HAVE NEVER KNOWN WHERE THERE:

  • Plaque
  • Germs
  • Food particles
  • Pieces of steak.
  • Pieces of corn (popcorn and regular).
  • Pieces of chicken.
  • Never broccoli. F that.
  • Whole chicken nuggets.
  • An entire pizza…still in the box.
  • The dog I had before Bookshelf Q. Battledog.  Turns out he never ran away. He had crawled into my mouth when I was sleeping and died.  And here all this time when people asked me, “Sheesh, what crawled in your mouth and died?” I always thought they were being more rude that accurate.
  • Jimmy Hoffa’s body. How the mob traveled through time to lodge him under my bicuspid I’ll never know.
  • Pirate treasure, me buckos.
  • The Lost City of Atlantis.

In all seriousness, for me, there is something that is both gross and satisfying when I dig that floss in between my teeth and pull out a hunk of something that would have remained there all day had I not flossed.

And mind you, these hunks of whatever remain after brushing, after using mouth wash…they’re just dug in there and only floss can get them out.  If they remain, they linger, the bacteria eats away at your teeth and gums.  Ugh.  Ugh!!!

So, it bothers me to read this study that’s been floating around claiming that flossing has no benefits.

Here’s a New York Times article about it if you want the details.

My take on it is that they aren’t saying flossing is bad for you. They’re just saying it doesn’t do anything for you.

Balderdash, I say.

Look, I’m not a dentist but I made a pact with myself long ago to never allow lack of qualification and/or credentials stop me on opining on a subject I have never studied in-depth before.

So, no, I am not a dentist, but it seems to me that if brushing and mouth washing doesn’t remove certain particles, and flossing can (and boy howdy, have I yanked some doozies out  from between my teeth over the years) – I have to assume that ridding your teeth of those particles has got to be beneficial to your oral health.

You know folks, years ago I never flossed.  Like noted presidential candidate Donald Trump, I too have enormous hands and therefore, it has always been hard for me to get my fingers in my mouth with the floss.

And so, my dentist read me the riot act.  Told me I was going down a bad path with my teeth.

So I brushed more. And used mouthwash more. And I got the floss picks and flossed regularly.

And boom. My mouth health improved.

So…I don’t know.  You do what you want 3.5 readers but me?

I’m a flosser.

Holy Crap. I should start a blog completely devoted to pictures of crap I pull out of my teeth.

Not gonna lie. It would get more readers than this blog.

What say you,

 

 

 

 

 

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May 25 2016
7 Comments
Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB – Should Scientists Make Chimeras?

Good morning 3.5 readers.

BQB here with another daily discussion.

Chimeras. They’ve been in the news lately.

Not gonna lie. Up until now I thought they only existed in that video game, Resistance, about an alternate World War II in which the US fought human/animal monsters.

But nope. Various news outlets are reporting that scientists are indeed working on making part-human/part-animal embryos.

“Chimera” is a word from Greek mythology, used to denote a part animal/part human.

Scientists claim in various stories I have read, such as this one from NPR that this effort isn’t being done in the hopes of creating some kind of awful animal man, but rather, to study diseases, learn about ways to improve health, and perhaps even be able to grow human organs inside of animals that can be harvested for terminally ill human patients.

But the experiments are controversial, so much so that the National Institutes of Health have ceased funding them until the issue can be studied more, according to the above article.

Personally, I’m suspicious of everyone and everything. I can already see my nemesis, Dr. Hugo Von Science, using this research to raise his own army of pig men, goat men, horse men, dog men, cat men and elephant men to conquer the world.

On the other hand, the idea that I could keep a pig in the back yard with some extra organs in case I need one is intriguing.

It’d have to be an actual pig. If it were a pig man then I’d feel bad.

What say you, 3.5 readers? Yay or nay on chimeras?

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May 19 2016
1 Comment
Daily Discussion with BQB

Introducing Daily Discussions with BQB

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Your chance to talk with BQB – World Renowned Poindexter, Magic Bookshelf Caretaker and Champion Yeti Fighter

Hey 3.5 readers.

Your old pal Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

Let’s talk.

3.5, I have to level with you. Over the course of many years, your humble blog host has acquired a number of unhealthy habits and allowing them to go for as long as I have has generally turned my flesh into more or less a jiggly cottage cheese like substance.

Caffeine. Sugar. Not exercising. Not getting enough sleep. These are among my problems.

I’m tired of it. I don’t want to go on like this any longer.

But honestly, it was easy for me to let things go for a long time because, well, when you’re unhappy and life is having a good laugh at all your plans, hopes and dreams, it’s hard not to pop a diet coke, unwrap a candy bar, and chillax.

Can’t do it anymore and, you all should be honored, because I’m not going to do it anymore because of you, my 3.5 readers.

Yes, you fine 3.5 readers clearly enjoy my site, seeing as how you all arrive to click on it 3.5 times a day, and I want to give you many, many more years of BQB goodness.

Selfishly, I want to give you many, many more years of BQB goodness.

To quote Jerry Maguire, you complete me, 3.5 readers. You really do.

You’re the ying to my yang, the pep in my step, the apple of my eye, the cream in my coffee, the hot fudge on my sundae, the up to my down, the smile to my frown and the Denver Broncos to my Cleveland Browns.

I have no idea about football. That last statement could have been negative, positive or neutral. I don’t know what those two teams think of each other. I just said it because I needed to end with a word that rhymed with frown.

I digress.

I’ve been reading a lot about making your life more efficient by getting up early.  Hal Elrod’s The Miracle Morning for example is a good book on the subject.

Generally, a body is like a car and it requires a lot of upkeep, especially one that’s in, well, disrepair.

You’ve got to get your ass out and buy vegetables and healthy food instead of just letting Bookshelf Q. Battledog order pizza. (You wish you had a pizza ordering dog.)

You need to, I don’t know, make salads and vegetable juices and shit.

You need to go for walks and jogs and do jumping jacks and sit ups and all that horse shit.

You need to lift weights.

You need to plan out your day.  Get things done so you don’t end up stressed, overwhelmed, and stop taking care of yourself.

I have been trying to wake myself up early in the morning just to have some extra time to do all this for many years now.

I pledge that I’ll do it but then I never do.

But you have to.  Because at the end of the day, it is way to easy to tell yourself, “I’m tired.  I’ll do it tomorrow.”

But tomorrow never comes!  You just do the same bullshit tomorrow.

Or at least I do.

So I don’t really want to give you regular updates about the various healthy things I’ll be doing.  That seems lame.

Instead, to keep myself honest and make sure I’m getting up everyday to do all this stuff, I’m introducing a new segment.

“Daily Discussions with BQB.”

Yes.  I’m going to wake my ass up early.  I’m going to post a quick discussion question.

It won’t be anything too elaborate. It will be something related to pop culture, self publishing, books, blogging, movies or what have you…you know, the stuff I usually write about.

It’ll give the blog a little boost. It’ll put pressure on me to wake up early.  When I’m up early, I’ll start working on myself.

I’ll need your help, 3.5 readers.

If you ever see this blog without a daily discussion posted in the morning, rip me a new one.  Yell at me profusely, call me horrible names, voice your unwavering disappointment with me.

Together, we’ll whip my ass into shape.  I’ll be happier, I’ll live longer, I’ll be stronger and more able to work on my books which, let’s keep our fingers crossed, will earn me enough to buy a mansion in Malibu.

OK.  I guess I can’t put it on you people to help me buy a mansion in Malibu.

Shack in Sheboygan?

Whatever.

Join in the daily discussion with me, 3.5.

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May 15 2016
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BQB's Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Bad Ass Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 1 – Pre-Apocalypse Planning – Section 1 – Getting Your Body in the Best Physical Condition Possible

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You’ve got a lot of work to do between now and the zombie apocalypse, my friend.

Noble readers, waiting until the Zombie Apocalypse begins to figure out how to save yourself from the undead hordes is a lot like waiting until you walk in on your girlfriend bumping uglies with your best buddy in your bedroom to confront them even though you know you saw them making googly eyes at each other at that raging kegger last Thursday.

Either way, the situation stinks (figuratively and literally) and someone’s getting screwed.

Do you kids still do keggers?  I have no idea. Bill Clinton was chasing interns around the oval office with his pants around his ankles when I was in college.

At any rate, you get my point. A Zompoc may or may not be coming but if it does, then you’ll want to be like Bill Paxton in Twister and get ahead of that shit storm.

Sorry. There will be many 1990’s references throughout this guide. Be forewarned.

Take copious notes, students, because I’m going to break down what you need to do so that you will be ready when the undead start breaking down your door.

Way in advance of the Zombie Apocalypse you will need to:

  1. Get your body in the best physical condition possible.
  2. Zombie proof your home.
  3. Pack a bug-out bag in case you need to flee your home.
  4. Identify ideal places to flee to if you must flee your home.

Pay attention, Geekensteins, because there’s going to test on this later.  And no it’s not going to be a multiple choice test. It’s going to be an “Oh my God a damn zombie is trying to eat my face so now I wish I had paid more attention to Bookshelf Q. Battler!” kind of a test.

That’s right. I’m going to save you from a zombie eating your face.

PREP STEP #1 – Get Your Body in the Best Physical Condition Possible 

Cardio

In addition to being perhaps the best comedic film about zombies, Zombieland also provided the world with a great deal of useful information.

Jesse Eisenberg wasn’t kidding when he advised you to do lots of cardio. The longer you can run without breaking a sweat or getting tired, the less likely it is that a damn zombie will chase you.

Amongst the zombie expert community, there’s a difference of opinion about just how fast zombies are.  Some say they are incredibly slow and dim-witted. Others say that they are very fast and dim-witted.

Everyone agrees that zombies are dumber than cacti, but personally, I don’t want to wait until a zombie’s teeth are clamping down on my vital organs to find out how fast they move.

No thank you. I’m going to assume that all zombies move like Jackie Joyner Kersey.

Jackie Joyner Kersey? Anyone? Anyone? Famous Olympian from the 1980s and 90s?

Shit I’m old. Maybe I ought to just give up and lie down and allow the zombies to have their filthy way with me.

No.  I can’t. I have to think of you.  There are so many lives I can still save with my anti-zombie knowledge.

Bottomline.  I get it. Life is hard. You’re very busy. There’s always ten things you need to do that are more pressing than getting your butt on that treadmill in your spare room that you turned into a coat rack long ago.

But if the thought of running away from a pack of hungry zombies for a little bit until you keel over from exhaustion and get torn limb from limb won’t motivate you to jump on that treadmill and bump up the incline then I don’t know what will.

P.S. even if the zombie apocalypse never happens, all this working out is going to make you look fab-u-lous!

Strength Training

Cardio’s great but you’re also going to need to pump your pythons.

What…what are you doing? No. Stop. That wasn’t a masturbation euphemism.

I’m talking about lifting weights.

Now, I belong to a gym and like any gym in America, it’s filled with two things:

  1. Old dudes who feel a bizarre need to walk all over the locker room with their wrinkled as hell wangs flapping in the breeze on full display.  

I’m not even kidding. They comb their hair while they’re naked, they shine their shoes while they’re naked, they tie their shoes, shave off their beards, trim their nose hairs, they do all of this nonsense while they’re naked. For Christ sake’s, old dudes, put on your pants then go through your entire bodily grooming regimen!

And before you say it, no, it’s not that I’m complaining because they’re old. I’d complain if a young dude this too. But young dudes don’t do this. Young dudes (whatever, just because I watched Friends while it was still on the air doesn’t mean I can’t call myself young so shut up) usually exercise discretion and keep their pants on.

Seriously. I don’t know what it is with old dudes in locker rooms. Maybe they figure they’re going to croak soon so they might as well take advantage of their last chance to be voyeuristic, or maybe at a certain age you run out of shits to give and don’t care if your naked walk abouts inspire off-topic rants in books about zombie apocalypse survival, but either way, I must move on.

2. Muscle Bound Dudes Offering You a Neverending Stream of Free, Unsolicited Advice

I don’t know about you but whenever I go to my gym, I can’t lift a bar bell more than three times without some jackass the size of an ox who looks like he’s straight out of Arnold Schwarzengger’s Pumping Iron sauntering up to me to say something like, “You’re doing it all wrong, bro.”

OK I get it. It’s very negative to automatically perceive someone’s attempt to help me as an insult. The guy could actually be trying to help me. Perhaps he knows some strength training techniques that could be of assistance. Maybe he was once a weak ass loser like me and wants to hook me up with some advice.

But frankly, I’ll look at myself in the mirror next to said muscle bound dude and I just feel like saying, “Ha. I get it, sir. Your much manlier than I am. You bang more chicks than I do and your penis probably puts mine to shame. Please now, allow me to struggle with this pink bar bell I stole from the Curves across the street in peace.”

Curves?  You know. Women have all these gyms that are just for them so they don’t have to deal with men checking out their butts while they do their squat thrusts?

I’m not going to say we’re not checking out their butts, but you know, if a female butt happens to be in my line of sight while I’m throwing up my pink bar bell that’s not my fault.

OK. Let’s reign it in here.  You’ll want to get as strong as you can because you’re going to have to lift a lot of heavy shit during the zombie apocalypse.

Maybe you’ll have to carry a big bag of supplies.  Perhaps you’ll have to let your best friend lean on your shoulder for awhile until you reach a shelter.

Hell, you might even have to climb your ass up a tree to avoid a bunch of angry brain chompers.

And based solely on knowledge gained from watching the same zombie apocalypse themed movies and TV shows that you have, I know for a fact that you’re going to be bringing down machetes, baseball bats, tire irons, department store mannequin legs, and other assorted blunt instruments down on zombie heads all day long.

If you don’t pump your cannons, that shit will wear you out.

Put on that muscle so you’ll be ready to do the zombie hustle.  But remember I only said to…

Get Yourself in the Best Physical Condition…Possible

Some of us are naturally born athletes and some of us aren’t. Some people can scarf down a whole pizza and never gain an ounce. Others can chew on a celery stalk and end up with an ass the size of a barcalounger.

We all come in different shapes and sizes.

Do the best you can but realize you’re not a miracle worker either. You have to make do with what God gave you.

There are simple steps you can take immediately. Quit smoking and drinking. Cut back on sugar, caffeine, and peanut butter cups. Stop lying. You’re eating a peanut butter cup right now. I know you are.

Yeah, you think you’re funny but you won’t be laughing breaks himself off a piece of your Kit Kat Bar.

Drink more water and get more fiber in your diet. Eat your vegetables. Eat that yogurt that helps ladies poop. Why don’t they have a yogurt that helps men poop? I feel discriminated against because I don’t have my own poop assistance yogurt. Someone get a civil rights attorney on the phone.

Start today and maybe if the zompoc takes its sweet time, you could end up being an Adonis by the time the biters come a-calling.

But if you’ve got a body that looks like you’ve been freebasing Twinkie cream since the second President Bush said, “Don’t Mess With Texas” and the zombie apocalypse starts tomorrow, then you, my friend, are going to have to rely on bribery to get yourself through the end of days.

You’ll need to bring a bevy of goodies to use as you purchase the assistance of survivors in better shape than you.

And you’ll need to keep these goodies in your bug-out bag.

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Mar 20 2016
5 Comments
Tomfoolery

I Got Shocked By My Earbuds

Hey 3.5 Readers.

Those who read this blog often (and my condolences to you, don’t worry, you’ll find something worth living for soon) are aware that I often complain about how it seems like some kind of cosmic karma force is after me, coming between me and all the goals I have in life.

Never before was that on full display today than when I made some time to hit the gym…

…AND I GOT SHOCKED BY MY DAMN EARBUDS!!!

Holy shit.  I kid you not.  It was hella scary y’all.  (Yes, I said that.)

Here’s how it all went down.

I got out of my BQB mobile.  Popped on my earbuds.  I have an eclectic collection of music and I was in a Snoop Dogg mood.

His early work.  Gin and Juice.  Ahhh…how I miss the early 1990’s.  Straight up fo sizzle.

So I walk through the parking lot.  Head on in to the locker room.  Take a wizz.  (You need to know the full story and I can’t leave out any detail.)

Then I hang up my coat…Snoop’s kicking old school…laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind…sippin on gin and juice…I’m grooving along and then all of a sudden Snoop’s voice gets garbled and…

…ARGH!!! SHOCKS IN MY EARS!  WTF?!  WTF?!  What’s going on!  Snoop!  Help me!

So I pulled the earbuds off and threw them into the locker, afraid if I kept holding onto them they’d fry me into a charcoal briquette.

Now I’m embarrassed in front of the old naked dudes walking around in the locker room.

SIDENOTE:  Men, have you ever noticed that whatever gym you go to, there’s like a hundred and fifty naked old dudes walking around with everything on full display?  It doesn’t matter what time you go.  Morning, noon, night, 3 am, there will be a hundred and fifty naked old dudes just allowing everything to flap in the breeze because Goddamnit, they’re old and they don’t give a shit anymore.  God bless them.  It’s their God given right to let it all hang out in the locker room I guess.

I just wish they’d clear out when I get there but I digress.

Back to my original tirade.

So I had set down my phone and I go to pick it up and it gives me a static electricity shock and then I touch the locker itself and it gives me a static electricity shock.

Now, Dr. Hugo Von Science and I are on the outs, so I can’t exactly ask him what the hell happened, but I was able to conclude that apparently it is possible for static electricity to travel through your earbuds and shock your damn ears.

It was very scary.  And honestly, I’m adding it to my list of complaints.

Because seriously, what are the odds of getting your ears shocked by your earbuds?  They have to be pretty low.  Probably not as low as they are to win the powerball, but still low.

When the odds of something good happening to me are low, they never happen.  When the odds of something bad happening to me are low, they happen.

It’s just a pain in the ass.  My whole life is like me dodging and ducking all kinds of bullshit that comes between me and the things I want to do in my life and to get shocked in the ears…it just made me feel like “OK F this I guess the gods just want me to stay out of shape and away from the gym.”

Because it’s not like going to the gym isn’t enough of a pain in the ass on its own.

First, there’s the aforementioned one hundred and fifty naked old dudes ALWAYS hanging around the locker room with no clear purpose for being there.

Second, whenever I pick up one damn weight, there’s always at least two hundred and fifty steroid addicted muscle bound jocks who feel the need to walk over and offer unsolicited advice on what I’m doing wrong, to which I always just nod politely until they leave me alone but in my mind I’m thinking, “Thank you sir, but as you can see, I’m not able to lift that damn seven hundred pound weight over my head and dance the Charleston like you can, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just stand here and put my full shame on display as I struggle with this tiny barbell which, by its pink color, I assume was designed for girls.”

And now, third, I have to worry about my ears getting shocked by my earbuds.  I googled it.  It indeed is a thing.  It happens.

So be careful, 3.5 readers.  Your earbuds can shock in more ways than playing Nicki Minaj’s latest song about her copious derrière.

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Feb 13 2016
4 Comments
Movies

Deadpool Discussion Question

If you were offered a procedure that would allow you to live forever but the catch is that you had to be hideously, wretchedly ugly, like barf enduringly ugly, would you do it?

I think I would.  I mean you’d get to live forever.  All the future you’d  get to have seems like it would outweigh the ugliness. Plus, with all that time you could save a lot of money and become super rich and once you are rich people ignore the ugly.

Success comes if you are a) super attractive but if you can’t be super attractive then lots of money tends to convince people to overlook that.  You can look like a total butt and people will like you if you’re loaded.

I should start another hashtag.  #OscarsSoRich  – Surely there’s a dirt poor actor who starred in an indie movie that’s being ignored.

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Nov 28 2015
2 Comments
Undesiredverse

Undesiredverse Question – Is Age Just a Number?

For the 3.5 readers paying attention, there was a big reveal in Chapter 20 of Undesiredverse: Wanted.

In earlier chapters, we saw Roman, our hero:

  • Punch a dude in the face in a rave club
  • Flirt with a space hooker
  • Fight a duel with an old friend
  • Take on 6 henchmen at once
  • Kiss yet another space hooker (I’m worried he might have a thing for space hookers)
  • Hang in the air from a hook attached to a ship piloted by Alien Jones
  • Fight a robot controlled by a highly evolved and super evil artificial intelligence on top of a ship as Alien Jones flies it all over the place.
  • Dive through the air without a parachute to save an alleged space hooker (though it kind of looks like she’s not a space hooker)

All the work of a young man, wouldn’t you say?  (I know.  There are too many space hookers in this story)

Ahh, but there’s the rub.  In Chapter 20, we learn that Roman is 65 years old.  In the future, humans start taking a drug called Rejuvatrix at age 25, which allows them to retain a healthy, 25-year old looking body for the next 275 years, a 300 year life span in total.

  • Plot wise, it makes things interesting.  There are older, wiser humans but you might debate whether or not they are because they still look 25.
  • But then again, perhaps “maturity” is a relative term.  In theory, most people don’t really want to slow down.  They just do because their bodies are telling them to.  In other words, your 65 year old grandpa would probably fist fight a robot on top of a space ship and kiss space hookers if he wasn’t sleepy all the time.
  • An extended adolescence is created.  0-100 is considered youth.  100-200 is middle age.  200-300 means you’re elderly.  But again, to confuse things, from 25-300, you look like you’re 25.
  • By the time we figure life out, we’re too old to do jack about it.  It amazes me that we expect people to choose their life’s path at 18, an age when they have no idea who they are, what they are capable of, what they’re good at and not good at, and most importantly, what would make them happy?  We need Rejuvatrix so we can all take a century to just go out and find ourselves.
  • For the 3.5 people reading the story, did it change your view of Roman to learn that he’s 65?  He certainly doesn’t act like today’s 65 year old.  In fact, when Alien Jones showed him a picture of what I (Eduardo Ricardo aka BQB) will look like when I turn 65 (a future event for me, or a past event for future Jones, if you sit down to do the math)…Roman freaks out at an image of what a 65 year old looked like in the early part of the 21st century.

 

 

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