Lot of talk about Russian spies in the news lately, 3.5 readers. Is your lady an agent for the Kremlin?
Oh sure, they say they want to be our friends but then as soon as we aren’t looking they kick the Ukraine in the balls and give East Europe a wedgie.
Let’s face it. For many Russians the Cold War never ended and they’re looking for their chance to spread communism across the globe.
Fellow American men, here are some warning signs that your girlfriend might in fact be a Russian spy:
10. You asked her if she is a Russian spy and her answer was “nyet.” Nyet, of course, is Russian for “no.” This is a clear sign your girlfriend is a Russian spy as an American woman would have responded, “No” or “Shut up and buy me something assface.”
9. You glanced at her cell phone and noticed she has “Putin” listed in her contacts.
8. She gets up in the middle of the night, strips naked, opens up the freezer and then just stands there taking in the cold blast. You could question her about this, but she’ll just give you some bullshit excuse about it being some kind of weird sex fetish. In actuality, she does this because it reminds her of summertime in her native Siberia.
7. She can’t name a single player on the local baseball team. (Note for this to work you need to not be a nerd who doesn’t know a single player on your local baseball team.)
6. She has difficulty fitting in during social gatherings. You and your friends always want to talk about movies, music and popular culture whereas she just keeps randomly blurting out stuff like, “Religion is the opiate of the masses!” and “When we hang the capitalists they will sell us the rope we use!”
5. Ever since she got a look at your fully stocked bathroom she’s been willing to do horrible, unspeakable things in the boudoir in exchange for a roll of two-ply. “Pass the Charmin” has taken on an entirely new meaning.
4. You have compared notes with your male friends. When their girlfriends get mad at them, they get a lecture or the cold shoulder. When your girlfriend gets mad at you, she slams her shoe down on the counter and shouts, “We will bury you!”
3. Whenever you ask her where she wants to go on your next date, she invariably replies, “the Pentagon” then asks if you know whether or not they allow flash photography.
2. She regularly asks if that is a hammer or a sickle in your pants or are you just happy to see her.
By: The Siberian Yeti, Newly Self-Appointed Ruler of the Bookshelf Battle Blog
A question for you, 3.5 readers.
Is Bookshelf Q. Battler some type of wizard? Is he a mage? Does he dabble in the black arts? Surely you, his trusted 3.5 readers, could shed some light on the subject.
I ask because I once assumed that with our Commodore 64, which allows us to play Tapper all the live long day, we Yetis were ripe with technological prowess.
Behold! The Commodore 64 in all of its glory. It allows us to play Zork, Galaga, and Tapper. So much Tapper. We cannot get enough of Tapper.
But as I survey the Bookshelf Battle Compound, I notice many devices that make the Commodore 64 look like a pile of Yeti droppings.
Did Bookshelf Q. Battler create these using magic? Or, do you all have these devices and we Yetis just did not get the memo? Perhaps you did not share news of this technology with us because you lousy Americans wish to conquer Siberia and put a Hooters restaurant on every street corner. You would probably even build street corners.
Bookshelf Q. Battler has a device not much larger than standard pad of paper. It is a single piece of glass with a few buttons and when I press them I am able to watch movies. Movies and television shows all day long. Does anyone in America work? Is everyone in your country an actor?
This magic glass device has a picture of an apple. I don’t get it. Is it supposed to tell you where you keep the apples? In Siberia, we are only allowed three apples per year. I usually barter mine for more toilet paper squares.
Plus, Bookshelf Q. Battler’s computer has a game on it called Skyrim. Apparently, Mr. Battler was pretending to fight dragons and marry peasant wenches all day. And yet he whines about having no time to write. Typical American cry baby.
I must procure a copy of this game to bring back to Siberia. All other Commodore 64 games pale in comparison, except Topper. Nothing can beat Topper.
We Siberian Yetis do not appreciate being kept in the dark about your technology, America. You will be hearing from our Yeti lawyers.
I must go now and check on Bookshelf Q. Battler. I am forcing to watch Olga’s Stew-stravaganza Part II: Electric Stewgaloo.
By: The Siberian Yeti, Newly Self-Apponted Ruler of the Bookshelf Battle Blog
3.5 readers. How utterly decadent. Very Western. Very American. Very “oh look at me, I’m a blogger, I’m special, I’m going to post a picture of what I ate for lunch today because I am so great everyone will want to know!”
Bozhe moi. In my village, we have only one newspaper. Literally, we only have one copy of a newspaper. It was printed in 1943 and we Yetis have been reading it ever since. It is our second favorite form of entertainment, the first being our state of the art Commodore 64.
But you Americans? You have so many options to choose from when it comes to the written word. So much free thought can’t be good for you.
You may notice that Bookshelf Q. Battler’s posts are still popping up now and then. They will do that for awhile. He has scheduled many posts in advance.
But rest assure, Mr. Battler and his Head of Security, Bookshelf Battle Dog, are locked up in the basement, where they are being forced to watch a selection of my favorite Russian films:
Dude, Where’s My Yugo?
Ivan and Anatoly’s Adventure, Which Was No More or Less Excellent than the Adventures of Other Citizens
The Passion of the Ration
For over a year, I have requested that Bookshelf Q. review my book, Ten Ways to Stretch Your Toilet Paper Rations. Imbecile that he is, he has constantly refused me.
Now I know why. Look at this ridiculous display of Western greed I found in the bathroom once occupied by the former proprietor of this so-called book blog:
As you are aware, we Siberians believe in weekly rations of three squares of toilet paper. No more. No less. Frankly, we could get by on two. We would be grateful to just have one.
But four squares? Why don’t we just put on cowboy hats and have fake silicone bosoms attached to ourselves while we’re at it?
Now that Bookshelf Q. Battler is indisposed, he can no longer stand in my way. I will now review my book myself.
Ten Ways to Stretch Your Toilet Paper Rations, a new non-fiction book by the Siberian Yeti, is a fantastic read. You are all ordered to purchase it immediately. End of review.
If you are unable to find my book on your favorite American website, Amazon, the site you fat, stupid, lazy Americans use to have flying robots deliver snacks and video games straight to your homes, thus allowing your copious bottoms to become one with your couches, then I will simply share the ten ways below:
Top Ten Ways to Stretch Your Toilet Paper Rations
10. Pinecones. Don’t ask. You’ll figure it out.
9. Stop eating. You’ve had enough already.
8. Use both sides.
7. Subsidize your TP budget with leaves.
6. Use pages from the 1943 newspaper.
5. Seek assistance of rabbits, as suggested by noted American philosopher Eddie Murphy
4. Horde TP squares during times of constipation, and they will be ready in times of dispensation. Always be ready for times of boom and bust.
3. Barter your services in exchange for payment in TP squares from your fellow man.
2. Run through a car wash. One day we might get cars that don’t fall apart when we wash them.
1. Hold it indefinitely.
Yes, my new book is sure to be a big time NYT bestseller. Step aside, Mr. James Patterson. Out of the way, Mr. Steven King. The Siberian Yeti will be climbing the charts, all thanks to my conquest of a book blog viewed by 3.5 readers.
We Siberian Yetis do everything our government requests of us with no question. You silly free-thinking Americans are no doubt filled with questions, so you may leave them in the comments below and I will respond with all the ways in which you are wrong.
I must go now and give Bookshelf Q. Battler his daily water ration. One dixie cup. No more. No less.
Hello 3.5 Bookshelf Battle Readers.
The Siberian Yeti here. I have returned to Bookshelf Battle HQ, made my way past Bookshelf Battle Dog, and have subdued legendary blogger, martial artist, international ladies’ man and magical bookshelf owner, the one and only Mr. Bookshelf Q. Battler.
Top Secret Surveillance Footage of the Siberian Yeti Village Revealed!
No longer will he fill the minds of the masses with his spectacularly awesome ideas. As the Mayor of the Siberian Yeti Village, I must keep people from thinking big ideas, lest they start thinking ludicrous thoughts, like three toilet paper squares per week are not enough.
Just look at the trash ideas this alleged book blogger is trying to sell you on:
A Book Review of Lock-In by John Scalzi – Robots and viruses, mystery and deception, too much stimulation for your pitiful American minds! We Siberian Yetis prefer to watch mold grow on rocks. That is all the excitement we can stand.
An Ask the Alien Column – Interactivity? Blech! Patooie, I say! Why do you want to promote your book, blog, or writing project through the assistance of a rude and snarky alien when you could engage in the ancient Siberian Yeti art of snowball juggling?
These Silly “Can’t Stop the One Post a Day Challenge” Columns – Bookshelf Q. Battler claims he can defeat Highlanders, Chuck Norris, and zombies all in the name of bringing a daily dose of absurd nonsense to his 3.5 readers? Preposterous!
Frank Underwood Reviews Green Eggs and Ham, House of Cards Parody – Such tomfoolery! We Siberian Yetis have been watching House of Cards on our Commodore 64 at a rate of one frame per three days and we are totally rooting for the Russian President to crush Underwood like the capitalist pig that he is!
Defense of Shatner – How can Bookshelf Q. Battler defend a man who is the typical spoiled, rich Hollywood actor, complete with a toupee on his head that looks like a tribble?
Yes, I, the Siberian Yeti, am now in control of the Bookshelf Battle and from now on, there will be no interesting ideas on this blog whatsoever! Get used to it, pitiful 3.5 readers!
Happy Tuesday, blogmeisters.
It’s time for the Quote of the Week. Like last week’s quote, this one also comes from Shakespeare:
ROMEO tries to break up the fight. TYBALT stabs MERCUTIO under ROMEO’S arm.
Exeunt TYBALT, PETRUCHIO, and the other CAPULETS
I am hurt.
A plague o’both your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone and hath nothing?
What, are thou hurt?
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, ’tis enough.
Where is my page? – Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
Exit MERCUTIO’S PAGE
Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.
No, ’tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a
church-door, but ’tis enough, ’twill serve.
Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.
I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.
A plague o’both your houses!
Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat to scratch a man to death!
A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic!
Why the devil came you between us?
I was hurt under your arm.
I thought all for the best.
– William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet
Poor Mercutio – just an innocent guy who got caught up in the middle of the Montague vs. Capulet feud and ended up getting stuck like a pin cushion. Well, scratched like a nickel on a winning lottery ticket would be more precise but as he said, a scratch is enough.
“A plague on both your houses!” Generally, this quote has become an expression used to criticize two warring factions, so hellbent on destroying one another, that they fail to realize that innocents are being hurt in the process.
Seems a bit relevant, given the news as of late, doesn’t it?
Here at bookshelfbattle.com (where the reviews are as awesome as the author’s humilty), I try not to get political. That’s because, whether you’re a Republican, or a Democrat, or a Libertarian, a Green Party member, or even a member of some odd party that thinks America should turn itself over to intergalactic space alien rule, all I want is for everyone to come together and partake in the joy of good literature.
Also, I want your clicks. Your sweet, sweet clicks. Click on a few links while you’re in here, will you? So far my only visitors are my cat and my Aunt Gertrude.
But I digress. There are some news stories that transcend politics. Stories where we can all agree, something really craptacular happened. Such is the case with the downing of Malyasian Airlines Flight MH17 over the Ukraine last week.
Pro-Russian separatists want to break off from the Ukraine and join Russia. Ukraine claims that the separatists aren’t exactly poor farmers turned rebels but rather are trained flunkies of Mother Russia. The passengers of MH17, a bunch of poor, innocent Mercutios, if you will, got caught in the middle of a brutal Civil War. They had nothing to do with the conflict. Most of them were on their way to an AIDS conference. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
All signs indicate that the plane was blown up by bumbling pro-Russians who mistook the civilian passenger plane for a Ukranian military plane. The rocket launcher used to blow up the plane isn’t exactly something you can pick up at the 7-11, and training on how to use one can’t be provided at the local community college, so Russia, now suspected of providing the weapon in question, definitely has a lot of explaining to do.
Russia points the finger back at Ukraine – claiming the appearance of a Ukranian fighter jet in the area needs to be explained. All facts need to be accounted for, but so far if the explanations are:
A) The separatists goofed and mistook a civilian plane for an army plane (or worse did it intentionally?)
B) The Ukraine government shot down a civilian plane in an elaborate attempt to frame the separatists and garner the world’s sympathy
Then Arkham’s Razor, which dictates that the simplest explanation must be true, yields that A is the safest bet.
It is an understatement of epic proportions to say that Russia and the rebels look bad here. And perhaps “A plague on both your houses” isn’t the most fitting of quotes in this particular situation, as it appears Russia and the Rebels hold the lion’s share of the blame when it comes to this particular tragedy. However, in the long run, if I may dare be sappy – it would be great if somehow all sides could come together and find a way to end the conflict before more innocents are hurt. It probably won’t happen – but it would be great if they could at least find a way to keep Mercutios from being caught in the middle.
We live in a world where it’s possible to beam any TV show you want to your phone. We also live in a world where girls being kidnapped in Nigeria and sold on the black market is a common occurrence.
We live in a world where it’s possible to think of something you want, order it on Amazon, and have it arrive at your house in a couple days. We also live in a world where parts of Iraq and Syria have been taken over by ISIS – a radical group so bad that Al-Qaeda has even basically said, “Whoa, hold on, don’t lump us in with those guys…”
We live in a world where it’s possible to create a website where the proprietor has little to no knowledge of website production techniques – kind of like bookshelfbattle.com, for example. We also live in a world where a long lasting peace between the Middle East and Israel is unlikely.
So much violence has taken over the world. People take sides, throw down their gauntlets, the innocent Mercutios be damned. It’s not my intention to start a debate over who’s wrong and who’s right. I have my views of who’s wrong and right in all these conflicts and I’m sure you do too. All I’m saying is that if the various warring factions of the world can’t to find peace, then maybe they can find a way to at least avoid hurting people who have nothing to do with it.
Wow, the mood got a little too somber in here. Luckily, that’s about as political as bookshelfbattle.com ever gets. Join us next time as we discuss which True Blood vampires are hot and which are not.