Tag Archives: humor

May 13 2018
Leave a comment
Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century

Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century – #76-100

And now, Bookshelf Q. Battler, one of the greatest minds of the Twenty-First Century (but hey, the century is still young) will share his great musings…

man-3391887_1280

#76 – When my garbage bag is full, the best thing to do is to take it out to the curb.

#77 – It’s always a good idea to carry a roll of quarters in your pocket.  You never know when you might need to do some laundry or pay a toll.  Twenty years ago, I would have added that you might need to make a call from a pay phone, but they don’t have those anymore.

#78 – All those male Smurfs must have run a train on Smurfette.

#79 – Lifting weights can make you stronger.

#80 – “The Wolf” in “Pulp Fiction” didn’t provide much help at all.  Think about it.  He’s built up as this big fixer that can use his ingenuity to make the worst problems go away, but then all he does is show up and tell Vincent and Jules to clean up the car with household cleaning products.  Shit.  I’ve never shot a guy in my car but if I did, I would, as a novice, think of the fact that I should probably spray some Windex on the blood in the hopes that it will go way.

#81 – Nobody knows what it’s like to be a sad man…except other sad men.

#82 – Shorts keep your legs cool in the summer.

#83 – No one makes VHS tapes anymore.

#84 – Is it possible to suck and blow at the same time?

#85 – Were Groucho Marx and Richard Marx related?

#86 – Plants must be watered.

#87 – “Ransack” is an interesting word.

#88 – Bell and Biv were carrying Devoe.

#89 – It’s hard to eat many foods without a fork.

#90 – Do ghosts fuck?  How does that work?

#91 – The average person inhales 4,582 spiders a night.

#92 – Cars have four wheels for a reason.

#93 – What’s black and white and read all over?

#94 – Paris is lovely this time of year.

#95 – I once discovered the meaning of life, but I forgot it.

#96 – Low hanging fruit is the best kind of fruit.

#97 – I’ve never gone Commando, on the battlefield or in my pants.

#98 – Swans are just fancy ducks.

#99 – Waffles are delicious.

#100 – The big ball drops on New Year’s Eve, but my balls drop a little lower every Tuesday.

Tagged , , , ,
May 13 2018
Leave a comment
Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century

Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century – #51-75

And now, Bookshelf Q. Battler, one of the greatest minds of the Twenty-First Century (although hey, it’s still young) will share his great musings…

man-3391887_1280

#51 – Call me old fashioned, but soda pop tastes better when it’s cold.

#52 – Men will always like big breasts.

#53 – Does the Pope ever wear a derby when he’s alone?

#54 – If you have vision problems, glasses will help you see better.

#55 – A hot take is the worst possible take.

#56 – Why are hamburgers called “ham-burgers?”  I’ve never asked for pig meat on my cow patty in my entire life and I’m not about to start now.

#57 – Middle aged white soccer moms who practice yoga are engaging in cultural appropriation.

#58 – Cookies are fun to eat.

#59 – Cancer is the worst drag of all.

#60 – Licking a sidewalk can’t be fun or healthy.  I don’t advise it.

#61 – Ever since my doctor told me I was sterile, I’ve wondered if the 9,832 hot pockets I cooked in the microwave throughout the course of my life were worth it.

#62 – Board games should be called “bored games” because they are boring.

#63 – Always bring exact change to a strip club.  I’ve never met a stripper who can break a twenty dollar bill.

#64 – Cinnamon goes good with everything.

#65 – Canada is America’s whiney little brother, the one that Mom makes us hold hands with on the way to school even though we really don’t want to.

#66 – Pancakes are neither pans nor cakes.  Discuss.

#67 – If Capt. Kirk and company are able to beam their way to a distant location, then why don’t they beam their star ship to Barbados every time the Klingons come onto the scene, looking to start some shit?

#68 – Whenever I have a stain on my shirt, I find the best course of action is to get it laundered.

#69 – Do cockroaches fuck?  I mean, they have to, right?  Because like, where else would all those cockroaches come from?  Damn it, I wonder what cockroach fucking looks like.

#70 – I don’t like to eat pizza crust.  I would prefer it if my local pizza parlor would simply attach wooden handles to my pizza, as well as a self-addressed, stamped envelope I can use to mail the wooden handles back to the pizza parlor when I am done using them to hold the various and sundry slices of my pizza.

#71 – Whenever someone asks me what is the one item I would wish for if I were left alone on a deserted island, I inevitably ask for a power drill…because how else are you going to fuck a coconut?

#72 – Words are the building blocks of sentences.

#73 – People who are lonely should seek the company of other people.

#74 – Candy is delicious, though not very nutritious.

#75 – An apple a day might keep the doctor away for awhile…until the day comes when you cut off your hand with a miter saw and then, well, I don’t give a shit how many apples you ate that day, the doctor is still going to want to examine that shit.

Tagged , ,
May 13 2018
Leave a comment
Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century

Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century – #25 – 50

And now, Bookshelf Q. Battler, one of the greatest minds of the Twenty-First Century (although hey, it’s still young) will share his great musings…

man-3391887_1280

#26 – If an after life does indeed exist, you can be assured to a mathematical certainty of one-hundred and fifty-eight percent that one of your deceased relatives has gazed down upon you from the heavens to check in on how you are doing only to be repulsed upon seeing you engaged in a full scale, no holds barred, down and dirty masturbation session.

#27 – Time is a construct and we need to construct more of it.  A lot more.

#28 – If I could do it all again, I’d be a farmer.

#29 – Genes decide if your butt looks good in jeans.  Jeans, on the other hand, decide nothing about your genes.  On an unrelated note, my Cousin Gene owes me thirty-seven dollars and a carton of menthols.

#30 – Did Samurais eat rye bread?

#31 – The first best way to get a free book is to go to your local library and get a library card.  The second best way to get a free book is to politely ask a friend who happens to be getting rid of a book if you can have the book.  The third best way to get a free book is to jam a Glock into a bookworm’s ribs and shout, “Give me your copy of Wuthering Heights right now or you’ll eat lead, motherfucker!”  For legal and/or moral purposes, I do not advise the latter.

#32 – The show, “Saturday Night Live” should be called, “One Half-Hour of Saturday Night and One Hour of Sunday Morning Live.”  I hate to be a stickler, but facts matter.

#33 – String is good for tying things up.

#34 – No one has any cash anymore.

#35 – Do Chinese people call their food, “food?”

#36 – I’ve tried and failed several weight loss programs over the years.  I’ve found the only regimen that works is to be locked in a cage like a werewolf on a full moon and to be zapped in the nut sack with a cattle prod whenever I ask for pizza.  For legal and moral purposes, I don’t advise this.

#37 – If your parents die at age 80 when you are age 50, will that make you an orphan?

#38 – Chips go good with dip.

#39 – I’ve never understood people who put ketchup AND mustard on one hot dog.  It’s an either/or decision, jackass.  Make a choice and live with the consequences.

#40 – The first caveman who saw a lobster and decided it looked delicious must have been a bonafide asshole.

#41 – Croutons are like speed bumps for salad.

#42 – Couples who want to have a baby should do so before age 35.  It’s a scientific fact that after age 36, the inside of a woman’s uterus bears a striking resemblance to the knight’s tomb in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,” complete with spiders, cobwebs, bats and the bones of unlucky explorers from long gone ancient civilizations.

#43 – Polish makes objects shiny.

#44 – How does the guy who writes “YOU ARE HERE” on the giant, oversized maps at various public attractions always know where I am?  Stalk much?

#45 – I’m against gay marriage, not because I have anything against gay people, it’s just that I think they’ve been through enough already.

#46 – Am I the only one who goes to a baseball game and wonders why 50,000 people are watching a bunch of dummies throw a ball around?

#47 – You may laugh at the idea of bidets, but I’ve never met a Frenchman with hemorrhoids.

#48 – Nobody writes letters anymore.

#49 – Toaster ovens are the microwaves of yesteryear.

#50 – Winter is the best time of year to wear your heavy coat.  If you wait until August to put it on, it will be too hot.

Tagged , , , ,
May 13 2018
Leave a comment
Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century

Great Musings of the Twenty-First Century #1-25

And now, Bookshelf Q. Battler, one of the greatest minds of the Twenty-First Century (although hey, it’s still young) will share his great musings…

man-3391887_1280

#1 – Once a fart exits the butt, does it still exist?

#2 – Fur is like a coat for a dog, except it does not include a zipper or buttons and cannot be taken off.

#3 – I’m not sure why cereal is considered a breakfast treat.  I enjoy it at any time of the day or night.

#4 – Sometimes, when I see a hamster running around a wheel, I want tell the little guy to stop running, because the joke’s on him…but then the more I think about it, the joke’s probably on me.

#5 – We can put a man on the moon but we can’t devise a cure for crotch rot.

#6 – Rulers in America are always 12 inches long.

#7 – Couches are good for sitting.

#8 – Pressed for time?  Start a film at the last five minute mark and save yourself two hours.

#9 – Well, those bastards at the post office raised stamp prices again.

#10 – Soy sauce, like most sauces, can be put on any food, but the key to deciding whether or not you want soy sauce to be on your food is to a) imagine what the food tastes like b) imagine what the food would taste like with soy sauce on it and then c) decide whether or not that would taste good before proceeding with the squeezing of the soy sauce packet onto the piece of food in question.

#11 – I’ve never met a bagel that couldn’t be improved by cream cheese.

#12 – Coffee helps you wake up in the morning.

#13 – I’ve found that whenever I’m sick to the point of vomiting, it’s always good to stay take a sick day from work.  Otherwise, you might vomit on your co-workers and boy howdy, will that ever put a bee in their bonnets.

#14 – Bermuda is a better country to visit than North Korea.  If your travel agent gives you a choice between visiting Bermuda or North Korea, pick Bermuda.

#15 – When your feet are cold, it’s time to slip on your socks.

#16 – Space is enormous.  You can fit a lot in there.

#17 – When it comes to sticking your head in a velociraptor’s mouth, I’m against it.

#18 – Nazis are history’s dick cheeseburgers with extra turd sauce.

#19 – Music is a symphony for the ears.

#20 – Whenever I need a good laugh, I remember that Kirk Cameron’s best friend on “Growing Pains” was named “Boner.”

#21 – I visited Muncie, Indiana once.  It was OK.  There are worse places to be and there are better places to be.

#22 – Skunks are just smelly rats.

#23 – Why are pineapples called “pineapples?”  They don’t come from pine trees.  Some ancient tree scientist somewhere really screwed the pooch on that one.

#24 – One day, a dog and a cat will fall so madly in love that they will fornicate.  When that happens, an everlasting world peace will not be far behind.

#25 – It has been my experience that when an electrical appliance requires power in order to function, the best action to take is to take the plug attached to the aforementioned appliance and insert it into a wall socket.  Consult a fully bonded, licensed and insure electrician for more information.

Tagged , , , ,
May 02 2018
3 Comments
Tomfoolery

BQB and the Search for Culturally Appropriate Food – A Short Story of One Man’s Search for Elusive Woke-ness

meltypizza

Can’t prove you’re from the boot?  Don’t even think about it.

I was hungry tonight, 3.5 readers.  I should have skipped dinner because I’m fat but screw it.  My tummy wanted foody, yum yum.

I went to a strip mall, where there was a pizza joint and a Chinese restaurant.  Normally, I would enter one or the other place, order, stuff my face and leave fatter than ever and none the wiser that I had committed a hate crime that made me worse than Hitler, namely, that I ate food that did not hail from my culture.

You see, I’m not Chinese.  Of that, we can be certain.  And even though that nice Chinese couple who moved to town and spent their savings to open up a business in which they would utilize their skill in cooking and serving their native dishes to anyone willing to pay, I knew better than they did.

Up until yesterday, I didn’t know better.  I thought it was OK for me to stuff orange chicken and pork fried rice and beef teriyaki and won ton soup and crab rangoons and moo goo gai pan and chow mein into my pie hole with reckless abandon.

But then, yesterday, I read about that girl who wore a Chinese dress to her prom even though she was not Chinese and I realized that I was a monster for eating Chinese food all of this time without being Chinese.

So I stuck my head in the doorway (I didn’t think I deserved to even enter a restaurant that was decorated in a Chinese style because again, I’m not Chinese) and I told the nice couple that I would not be able to purchase their food again because I am not Chinese.  They looked at me and smiled and then when I tried to explain further, the wife grabbed a broom and whacked me in the ass and told me, “Get lost, hipster scum!”

Anyway, so the other place at the strip mall was a pizza joint.  I go there often.  They have good pizza.  However, it dawned on me that I am not Italian.

I thought about it for a moment.  Although I am not Italian, I am of English, Scandanavian and German ancestry.  As you might be aware (you probably aren’t because you attended public schools), there was a time when Europe was conquered by the Roman Empire.

So…I guess you could make the argument that I am the descendant of subjects who were under the rule of Ancient Italians.

But then I thought, “Well…I can’t really prove that.  Maybe my ancestors were aware they were subjects of Ancient Italians, or maybe they were tree people who just danced around in the forest and had no idea about what was going on.  Further, I can’t draw a map of what the Roman Empire looked at during any one point in time, let alone during various times as it lasted a long time, and don’t even get me started on the Holy Roman Empire…”

Oh well.  I decided not to chance.  I got in my car.  By the way, my car is American made, so I think I’m OK, but I’m going to put a call into the manufacturer tomorrow to ask if I share the same heritage as the people who assembled the car on the manufacturing line.  I mean, if the car was made by a man who isn’t English, Scandanavian, or German, then I’d be culturally appropriating this individual’s work and that would be wrong.

I drove for hours until I found a Norwegian Restaurant.  It was called “The Viking’s Helmet.”  Finally, I would be able to dine without it being a hate crime because, remember, I’m part-Scandanavian.

Once inside, I was greeted by a waiter dressed in full Viking battle regalia, horny helmet, battle axe, long beard and all.

“By Odin’s taint, I’m Uncle Sven and I’ll be your server,” said he.

“Glad to be here,” I said.  “I’m a descendant of the Ancient Viking peoples and I just learned it’s cultural appropriation to eat any food that my ancestors didn’t eat.”

Sven and I got to talking and found we were pissed off about the same offenses to our culture.  We were pissed that Marvel was making bank off of cartoonizing our deity, Thor, for he is the God of Thunder and to turn him into a superhero is apparently fine to everyone, yet everyone would shit solid gold bricks if Stan Lee were to churn out a series of comic books called, “The Stupendous Jesus!”  See Jesus cure the lepers in a single bound!

Further, we were pissed that there was an NFL team in the current year called the “Vikings” even though the Ancient Scandanavian heritage of any of the players had not been verified.  The Vikings were a proud lot of warriors who beat the shit out of their slaves to get them to row their long ships faster so they could get to foreign lands and steal their shit, pillage their villages, set their huts on fire, and abscond with their women so…unless you did all that and still looked good in a horny helmet, I’ll thank you to not refer to yourself as a “Viking.”

Soon enough, Thor brought me a steaming hot plate of salted codfish gonads, which surprised me because a) I didn’t know Vikings ate those and b) I didn’t know fish had gonads.  I mean, I guess I knew that but I didn’t know they were anything you could make a meal of, or that anyone would want to.

“Our ancient kinsman would spend many a night looking at their plundered booty and enjoying a plate of salted codfish gonads,” Uncle Sven said.

“Yeah,” I replied.  “It’s just that…well…up until now I was more of a pizza and/or beef teriyaki kind of guy.”

“That’s crazy talk, you un-woke, bigoted, unmitigated pile of whale shit!”  Uncle Sven said.  “You’re not Chinese OR Italian!!!”

“I know,” I replied.  “And had I know it was a hate crime to have eaten anything other than the salted codfish gonads that my Viking ancestors consumed while they burnt the villages of their enemies to the ground and defiled the women folk to prove their manliness, then I never would have developed a penchant for pepperoni and spare ribs.”

“Oh well,” Uncle Sven said.  “At least now you know you were a disgusting monster and now you can change.  What part of Scandanavia did your people hail from?”

“Beats me,” I said.

Uncle Sven gasped.  I explained that my family always told me we were part Scandanavian, but never specified which country.  Uncle Sven told me the specific country matters, for this was a Norwegian restaurant and Norwegians always cooked and salted their codfish gonads.  Meanwhile, the Swedes prefered unsalted codfish gonads and the Finns liked to mix their codfish gonads with a jelly-like substance made out of crushed radishes and the excised tumors of pickled herrings.

Thus, since I couldn’t prove I was a bonafide Norwegian, Uncle Sven could not risk taking part in cultural appropriation, because for all he knew, I could have been the descendant of Finns and he was fresh out of cancer laden pickled herrings.

I told Uncle Sven there were no hard feelings and set off for a German restaurant.  I am, part German, after all.  I found a restaurant called “Haus of Der Wunder Schnitzel.”

There I met a waiter in leiderhosen named Herr Gunter, who told me he would happy to serve me a delicious, hot pretzel, a frothy stein of German beer, bratwurst, as many weiner schnitzels I could eat, all doused with a heaping helping of sauerkraut.

I told Herr Gunter that all sounded delicious and I could eat all of this guilt free because I’m part German.  Alas, Herr Gunter gasped and cried, “Only part?!”

Yes.  I asked if “only part German” was good enough and said it wasn’t.  You see, at this time, there doesn’t exist a process that would allow a doctor to determine which percentage of my stomach was German so there was no way to know how much food my stomach would be able to carry until it filled up the German part and overflowed into the English and Scandanavian parts.  The idea of German food mixing around in a stomach that shared ancestry with non-Germans was morally abhorrent and a definite act of cultural appropriation.

I thanked Herr Gunter for his time and left.  I had a similar exchange at Sir Nigel’s Kidney Pie Factory.  Sir Nigel was willing to sell me a kidney pie until I explained that I could not explain which part of my stomach was English, and then he told me I was banned from eating pies made out of the organs that eliminate toxins from the bodies of farm animals because, hey, that’s better than pizza I guess.

I asked Sir Nigel if he knew what a man of mixed heritage like me could do, because I was hungry and hadn’t eaten all day.  The kind man handed me a box of crackers, which he explained, had been invented by the Brits, for like the British, they are dry, tasteless, and have a history of invading your mouth and leaving crumbs in areas where they didn’t belong.  Hence, why my people would always be known as “Crackers.”

The catch was that I had to promise to eat only one cracker every four hours.  Thus, I’d be able to ensure the cracker would only stay in the English part of my stomach and not mix with the German and Scandanavian parts.

I agreed.  Sir Nigel also gave me a jug of water.  It was ok for me to drink water, the Brit noted, because all cultures have enjoyed water since the dawn of time.

I returned home, where I sat on the front steps to my house.  I ate a cracker, then checked my watch.  I took a sip of water.

A few minutes later, an angry, blue haired feminist wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt slapped the cracker box out of my hand, then seized the water bottle from my other hand and dumped it all over the sidewalk.

“Hey!”  I cried.

“Cultural appropriating scum!”  the angry feminist said.

“I’m not!”  I said.  “I researched this thoroughly!  I can eat crackers because I am a British cracker and also I have agreed to only eat one cracker every four hours so as to not allow the cracker to inter mingle with the non-British parts of my stomach.”

With a triumphant grin, the SJW pointed my direction to the bottom of the cracker box, which was prominently stamped, “Made in Taiwan.”

I looked to the heavens and, much as Capt. Kirk screamed the name of his nemesis, Khan, so too did I cry, “Damn you, Pacific Trade Partnership!!!”

I composed myself.  “But why did you dump out my water?  All cultures enjoy water.”

“Yeah,” the SJW said.  “But uh…hello?  Most anthropologists are in agreement that the first humans were born in Africa and so they were the first people to discover water so unless you’ve got a Ugandan passport on you…”

I sighed.  I told her I didn’t have such a passport and laid down on the stoop.  As the SJW walked away, I lost all hope.  The hours passed, the night went by, and in the morning, my throat was so dry.

As the time rolled on, various helpful social justice warriors stopped by to inform me that my hat, belt, shirt, pants, shoes, socks, and underwear had all been manufactured in other countries, none of which I could claim kinship with.  They were nice enough to take all of my clothing, throw them into a dumpster, pour gas on them and set my duds ablaze.

I returned to my front steps, where I laid their naked…until one of the women who complained about the origin of my clothing accused me of exercising male privilege and/or engaging in Harvey Weinstein-esque activity and so, she called the police.

Not wanting to go to jail, I found a sharp object and was about to stab myself to death when another SJW pointed out that if I were to do so, I would be committing a form of the ancient art of hare kare, i.e. the Ancient Japanese tradition of killing yourself in order to preserve your honor when you have engaged in an epic fail.

So, I wrapped myself in a burlap sack.  I felt bad because I could not figure out which country had invented burlap, but it was my only option.  I headed South, all the way to Antarctica, where I found peace…

…until the world’s only talking penguin accused me of appropriating penguin culture by trying to catch a fish with my mouth.

The End.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Mar 27 2018
Leave a comment
Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB – Choose Your Super Power

If you were able to be magically granted one of the following super powers, which would you choose and why?  Choose only one and discuss in the comments:

  • Ability to fart fire.  (You knew that was coming.)
  • X-Ray vision but it only allows you to see senior citizens naked.  You can look through anything else but like, when you look at hot chicks they’ll still have their clothes on.  Bogus.
  • Vivid, highly detailed memory of anything that ever happened on any Wednesday in your life.
  • Perfect parallel parking.
  • Perfect grammar.
  • Exceptional mathematical computation abilities at a high speed.
  • Mind reading capabilities but you can’t read the mind of anyone named Steve.  Thus, anyone named Steve will be your arch-enemy.
  • Super fast bicycle pedaling ability.
  • Karaoke master.
  • Ability to make others think you look hot even though you are very ugly.
  • Flying skills – you can fly, but you have to make, “put, put, put” noises like a poorly maintained engine is moving you, which makes it way less cool and impressive to the ladies.  Still, you can fly, but if you ever stop making the “put, put” sounds, you’ll fall.
  • Perfect comedic timing.
  • Accurate restaurant bill tip calculation skills.
  • Super fast speed with the exception that in New Jersey, your power is reversed and you are only able to move in slow motion.
  • Sonic masturbation.
  • Always the guy who brings the pizza to any party.  That’s it.  Show up to any party.  Pizza is mysteriously delivered.  Pizza delivery guy announces it’s from you, makes it look like you paid for it but you never have to pay for it.
  • Drink unlimited booze without getting drunk.  In theory, cool.  In reality, why?  It’s just like drinking a shit ton of old, expired soda.
  • Ability to travel great distances by being shot out of a cannon.
  • You’re the greatest painter in the world, but you can only paint pictures of Chester A. Arthur arm wrestling infamous 1960s bedazzled piano man, Liberace.  Still, your paintings of these two are superb and sell for millions.
  • Ability to separate all recyclable materials out of your trash by snapping your fingers.
  • Extreme foresight – ability to tell exactly how all your decisions will work out in the future.
  • Extreme hindsight – constantly reminded of how your bad decisions in the past got you to today’s intensely shitty present.
  • Eternal life, but you must play a kazoo while a Filipino hunchback named Raul beats you in the face with a smelly fish for five minutes, every hour on the hour, forever or else you’ll die.
  • Ability to stay in the lines when coloring in coloring books with crayons.
  • Unlimited money.
  • Unlimited sex (consensual, of course, you freak.)
  • Unlimited Arby’s coupons.
  • You can predict whenever any convenience store within a 50 mile radius is about to be robbed of all it’s slushee machine syrup by a man with athlete’s foot.
Tagged , , , ,
Feb 22 2018
1 Comment
Is Comedy Dying?

Is Comedy Dying? Reed College Students Protest Steve Martin’s King Tut Sketch as Racist

Hey 3.5 readers.

I’m late to the game on this as apparently it happened last Fall.

In a humanities course at Reed College in Oregon, a professor showed a class the infamous and hilarious “King Tut” sketch performed by Steve Martin in 1978 on Saturday Night Live.

I mean, if I’m a student I might protest that I’m being expected to borrow a shit ton of cash for a loan that I’ll never be able to pay back so I can watch a sketch that I could have just watched on YouTube myself for free, but that’s neither here nor there.

The students called this racist.  How dare Steve Martin appropriate Egyptian culture?  One student said that when a golden-faced King Tut pops out of his coffin to play a saxophone, this is the equivalent of “blackface.”  Read more in the NY Post.

Sigh.  When did kids become such squares?

Seriously.  Has everyone under 35 lost their cognitive functions?

OK.  Let me spell it out for you.  THE POINT OF THE SKETCH WAS TO MAKE FUN OF THE COMMERCIALIZATION OF KING TUT’S LIFE AND EGYPTIAN CULTURE!

That was what Martin was doing, through humor.  In the late 1970s, a famous King Tut exhibit toured museums throughout America.  Martin starts the sketch saying he thinks its ridiculous that King Tut’s life has been reduced to “toys and trinkets” and that money is being made off the pharaoh’s life.

Then he breaks out into a hilarious, over the top song and dance number.  Girls in Egyptian garb dance in the background.  Martin is using humor to make a point.  It’s as if the life of an ancient king has been turned into little more than a song and dance routine to entertain dopey tourists.

Goldenface?  No one had a gold face.  Tut was buried in a coffin made out of gold with a golden image of his face on it.

There’s just no critical thinking anymore.  How can anyone with a brain watch this sketch and realize anything other than Martin was making fun of the idea of taking an ancient culture and exploiting it for cash?  Ironically, if these kids would think for five minutes, they’d probably realize they and Martin agree on things.

Sad.  Everyone is dumb.

Tagged , , , , , , ,
Feb 21 2018
13 Comments
Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB – I Have Lost the Will to Blog

It’s getting harder and harder to keep bringing the 7 eyes of 3.5 readers to this wonderful site.  Also, I’m no spring chicken.

I’m unsure of the future.  Perhaps I will turn over the keys of BQB HQ to my arch-nemesis, the International War Criminal/Incredibly Boring Snow Monster, “The Yeti.”

Perhaps I will dump a bottle of hot sauce on my head, then go swimming in a shark tank.

Maybe I will ask Fergie to serenade me.  No, scratch that.  Fergie is a national treasure.  Screw you all for making fun of that goddess.  She brought us so much joy with her humps, surely we can spot her one error in judgment.

I think I’ll just lie down in my backyard.  Watch the butterflies flap their wings and let caterpillars crawl all over me until the moss and grass just grow over me and consume me.

Perhaps none of that is necessary to not blog anymore.  Or maybe I’ll sub-contract the blog out to some hired help.  Maybe I’ll just watch movies and eat pizza and hire a team of sentient iguana typists to write this blog for me and I’ll pay them in flies.

Surely, they couldn’t do any worse.

What say you, 3.5 readers?

Tagged , , , ,
Feb 17 2018
3 Comments
BQB's Public Domain Library

Top Ten Oscar Wilde Quotes

oscar-wilde-1165545_1280

#10 – “I can resist everything but temptation.”

#9 – “Women are made to be loved, not understood.”

#8 – “Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”

#7 – “Be yourself.  Everyone else is taken.”

#6 – “Most people are other people.  Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”

#5 – “True friends stab you in the front.”

#4 – “The suspense is terrible.  I hope it will last.”

#3 – “The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.”

#2 – “A gentleman is one who never hurts anyone’s feelings unintentionally.”

#1 – “Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us.”

Tagged , ,
Feb 07 2018
Leave a comment
Stop Sucking With Vinny Baggadouchio

Stop Sucking with Vinny Baggadouchio – Taking Your Not Sucking Journey One Suck Free Day at a Time

shutterstock_669906521

World Renowned Motivational Speaker/Anti-Suck Expert Vinny Baggadouchio

I’m Vinny Baggadouchio and I’m sucking the suck out of the world so you don’t have to.

Perhaps you recognize me from one of my many fine books which describe in detail how you no longer have to suck:

How Now, Brown Suck Cow

John Livingston Suckgall

De-suck You, De-suck Me, De-suck it Together, Naturally

Stop the Suck World, I Want to Get Off!

When a Problem Comes Along, You Must Un-Suck It

How to Win Friends and Avoid Sucky People

I’m Mad as Hell and I Don’t Have to Suck Anymore!

Today’s question comes from a big ole suckface in Pismo Beach, Florida.  Wow, it’s so nice and sunny, you’d have to be a big super sized sucker to suck in a place like that.

Dear Vinny B,

I’ve sucked so hard and for so long that I don’t even remember where all the suck began and I’m not sure how to even find a way for the suck end.  Sometimes, when I think about all the things I have to do to not suck, I feel so overwhelmed that I begin to engage in sucky behaviors, like smoking crack, banging discount prostitutes with STD laden, gangrenous vaginas and eating Tide pods.  So many Tide pods.  Sometimes I just sit down in front of the TV and eat a whole bucket of those things.  I’ve died seven times already and the doctors tell me they doubt they can bring me back again and I should stop eating Tide pods but I can’t help it because I suck so much.

How can I stop sucking today so I will not suck tomorrow?

Sincerely,

Pismo Sucker

My word, Pismo Sucker.  Your life sure does suck.  Don’t worry though.  I’m here to help you un-suck it.

Here’s the deal.  Your life didn’t suck itself up overnight.  I’m sure it took many, many years worth of steadily, increasingly suckier activities until you became the great big sucker that you are today.

Maybe at one point you were great – young, vibrant, healthy, good job, you were going somewhere.  Then, you started to suck a little.  Maybe you stopped shaving everyday.  Maybe you stopped caring about your appearance.  Maybe you didn’t keep your desk, office, car, or home or anywhere else clean.

Maybe you started with an extra drink.  Then two.  Then five.  Then twelve.  Then came the crack, the smack, the horse tranquilizer and then the Tide pods.  Boy, people have really been sucking themselves up with Tide pods lately.  Don’t eat them, people.  They suck and they’ll kill you and that would suck.

Slowly but surely you took a new, sucky step down the ladder of suck into the great sewer hole of suck-dom.  Now you’re down there in the suck sewer, covered in so much suck muck you don’t know how you’ll ever get to the suck free top again.

Simple.  Just as you plunged into suckitude one step at a time, so too will you step up into a suck free life, one step at a time.

Today you’ll start shaving.  Tomorrow, you’ll start dressing better.  The day after date, you’ll cut down on the booze.  As time goes on you’ll cut out all the substances (though the Tide pods must be cut instantly.)

Seek counseling and a support group and therapy and treatment for your various addictions.  There are many professionals who are quite adept at curing sucky problems like yours.

Rome wasn’t built in a day and your sucky life won’t be unsucked in a day, or a week, a month or even a year.  Take each day is it comes.  Find as much suck-free enjoyment as you can whilst still trapped in your suckitude.  Slowly but surely, make incremental and positive changes that build up your suck free life and build up your immunity to suckyness.

Think of all the years you wasted wallowing your suck.  Think how quickly those years went by, how happy you’d be if you’d stepped onto the slow but sure path onto a suck free journey years ago.

If you try to de-suck all of your suck instantly, it’ll be too much – a Herculean task for even the most advanced non-sucker.  De-suck little by little, taking baby steps towards an overall end game of a suck free life.

You’ll get there, my friend, but you didn’t dick this suck hole overnight, and you aren’t going to fill it up with suck-free dirt overnight either.

I know it can be hard to sit there and think how far away a suck free life is, how much needs to be done before your life won’t suck anymore that it seems so surreal that your life could do anything but suck, but trust me, a suck free life is not a fairy tale.  If you believe you won’t suck, then you will achieve a life that doesn’t suck.

Good luck, don’t suck, and FYI, my new book, “Good Luck, Don’t Suck” is now available at a book store near you that doesn’t suck.

Tagged , , , , , ,
← Older posts
Newer posts →