Tag Archives: sharks

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?

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Douche Shark 3 – The Passion of the Douche Shark – Douchey Things to Say to Shark Babes


By: Douche Shark, the World’s Douchiest Shark

Yo…yo, hey bro.  Bro…hey!  Hey yo, bro!  Don’t swim away from me, bro.  I’m talkin’ to you, bro.  Don’t be rude bro.  Don’t be rude.  Come on, swim on back.  No, I’m not talkin’ to you 3.5 readers.  I’m talkin’ to my douche shark buddy behind you.  Don’t worry, he aint gonna eat you 3.5 bros.  He don’t snack on stank meat.  What?  What’d I say?  Aw come back 3.5 human bros.  Fine, I’ll talk to you too.

Bros…check it out, bros.  The ocean is filled with fine ass lady sharks ripe to be caught, and here are some things that a sexy douche shark like me will say to bag those sweet lady fins because as much as they say they don’t, lady sharks totally like douche sharks bro.  They do.

Nice sharks finish last bro.  You ever see a nerd shark bang a lady shark bro?  Cool, I rest my case, bro.

OK bro, study up because here’s what you got to say to a lady shark to make her wet…I mean beyond the ocean she’s already living in:

#1 – Yo baby, come back to my shark crib and we’ll listen to some Pitbull.

Dale, bro.  Dale.  Lady sharks love Pitbull, bro.  Dale, dale, dale.  Sip cristal, bro.  Mr. Worldwide, bro.

#2 – Come back to me when you aren’t fat, baby.

Oh what, bro?  What?  This isn’t hurtin’ bro.  It’s helpin.’  How a lady shark gonna know she needs to stop eatin’ extra swimmers bro?  She needs you to tell her to cut back on eatin’ humans bro.  You’re not tellin’ her you won’t bang her, just that you’ll bang her once she’s not fat anymore.  Now she got like a reason to lose weight.  All the sweet shark sex you’re offering is gonna motivate her, bro.

#3 – Baby, you were hotter when you didn’t talk.

Lady sharks are meant to be seen and not heard, brosef.  Sometimes you got to remind the lady sharks of this, bromax.

#4 – Are you the hottest of all your lady shark friends?

You can’t be bangin’ the least good lookin member of the lady shark, bro.  You’re limitin’ yourself if you do, bromandu.

#5 – Where’s my dinner, baby?

Bro…no bro.  Stop rollin’ your eyes, bro.  Look, lady sharks are forgetful.  When they forget to make your dinner you got to remind them bro.  Again, any attempt to help a lady shark be the best possible lady shark she can be will be appreciated, bro.  She’ll be glad you reminded her and whip up some dinner right away, preferably with extra human swimmer meat.


Aight, bros.  I’m outtie 5000.  You’re so welcome I dropped by, bros.  You really are.  I’mma gonna go work on my shark delts and my shark quads and then go eat seven or eight people then pick up some lady shark hotties.  You got any comments, bro?  Let me know but put on some shark Axe body spray first because you all stink, 3.5 bros.


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BQB vs. Monsters – The Best Way to Start Your Day is to Punch a Shark in the Face


You see a shark.  I see a punchable face.

Hey 3.5 readers.

You all know that I’m a champion yeti fighter, but did you also know that I am an accomplished shark face puncher?

There’s nothing quite like it really.  Very exhilarating.

Every morning I wake up and before I shower or shave or even have a cup of coffee, I leave BQB HQ, swim out into the middle of East Random Lake (East Random Town’s largest body of water) and I punch anywhere between five and seven sharks right in the face.

I’d recommend it, but I can’t, because my attorney advises me not to, you know, because of the 101% virtual certainty that this activity will lead to you being eaten by a shark and being turned into shark poop.

So you know what?  Don’t punch a shark in the face.  Just live vicariously through me, knowing that I’m starting my days by punching many sharks in their respective faces.

Look, I’m putting myself at great personal risk by even telling you this.  Sharks have Internet.  You think they don’t because they’re underwater but they do.  They eat like a hundred people a day so if you do the math, that means they have thousands and thousands of cell phones.

And because the owners of those phones have been turned into shark poop, the sharks are able to use their phones and not pay any Wi-Fi bills until the owners’ plans run out.

I know I only get 3.5 readers but you never know, a shark could see that I am bragging about punching them in their stupid faces and they could get mad and have themselves shipped into big water tanks all the way to BQB HQ for the sole purpose of eating me and turning me into shark poop.

Do you know how hard it would be for me to blog as a BQB shaped piece of poop?

It would not be easy, let me tell you.

So anyway.  That’s how I start every day, 3.5 readers.

How do you start your days?  (Again, hopefully not by punching sharks.  Leave that to a professional, like yours truly.  This blog and its proprietor will not be held liable if you try to punch and/or do anything with or go anywhere near a damn shark).

But seriously, what normal, non-shark punching related things do you do to start your day?

Tell me all about it in the comments.

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Douche Shark II: Return of Douche Shark (Or, How to Chill, Bro)

By: Douche Shark, the World’s Douchiest Shark


What up, 3.5 bros?

Pound it, bros.  Pound my fin.  Don’t leave the fin hangin’ bro.  Don’t leave it…aw nice there you go.

Check it bros, not much going on since I last checked in and downloaded my details.  I’m still dope.  I’m still fresh.  I’m still the biggest, baddest, toothiest killer fish in the sea and all the sexy, fly ass she-shark hunnies are after me.

“Oh Douche Shark,” the she-sharks say. “We can’t stop touching your fin” to wit I am known to reply, “That’s cool because there’s plenty of Douche Shark fin to go around ladies and I’m not going to be rationing it any time soon.”

But you know what, 3.5 Brosephs?  I worry about you all.  I worry that you aren’t chilling enough.  You’ve got to chill.  You’ve got to paint yourself yellow so you can totally mellow, bro.  I’m like, super serious right now.  Seriously bro.  Don’t deny my seriousness.

Here are like, some things or whatever, that I, Douche Shark, like to do when I need to chill:

  • Limp Bizkit.  You gotta have Limp Bizkit.  You just have to.  Is it rock?  Is it rap? Is it a man who just banged his thumb with a hammer by accident and now he’s screaming in pain?  You’re guess is as good as mine, Broheim.
  • I like to get my fin frosted.  You don’t got a fin, bro?  Aww, that’s bullshit bro.  You gotta get your hair tips frosted then.  Like, just mix in some blonde with some black and you know what your hair should be at least seventeen different colors bro.
  • Take and post 900 shirtless selfies of my sweet, rockin’ shark bod.  Yeah, all the she-sharks are like, “We aren’t cool with that” but what-evs, brah.  If they don’t like it they can swim aside to make room for a she-shark that digs my rockin’ shark abs.
  • Catalog my wardrobe that consists entirely of sleeveless shirts and backwards hats.  I mean, yeah, a hat isn’t backwards until you put it on your head backwards but don’t complicate the situation, bro.  Don’t contradict me bro.  I’m all hopped up on shark steroids and shark energy drinks so it puts me in a hella bad mood, bro.  FYI dude, you can’t go wrong with a backwards hat and a sleeveless shirt no matter how old you are.  Buy a metric shit ton of backwards hats and sleeveless shirts because they will complete your ensemble no matter how old your ass gets.
  • Get my ass a sweet spray on tan.  I am not a happy douche shark unless I am an orange douche shark.  Don’t blame me, bro.  The sun doesn’t reach the depths of the ocean where I live.  It’s not my fault you don’t know science, guy.
  • Talk to peeps on my bluetooth.  People are impressed by that shit, let me tell you.  When the fish see me with my bluetooth in, they’re all like, “Shit, that is one important douche shark because he can’t put the phone down for a minute and just swim.”
  • Ahh dude, you know what else is a good look bro dude guy?  I like to wear sunglasses but not over my eyes but on the tippy top of my head.  That way, I’m prepared for the sun.  The sun could attack at any minute but as long as those sunglasses are on the top of my head, I can just pull them down within seconds bro and then the sun is defeated.  I can only chill when I have my top of head sunglasses on.
  • I gotta spend at least five hours a day working on my shark car.  It’s a piece of shit from 1972 but I like to spend all my duckets on it.  Put some solid ass spinning gold rims on it.  Get some fuzzy ass dice and a horn that plays Limp Bizkit and tiger skin seat covers and big ass monster truck tires and, what?  Yo, eff you, bro.  Don’t be coming up here and telling me that for all that scratch I could just buy a brand new car.  That’s not how this douche shark rolls, son.
  • Pump those guns son.  Get your ass to the gym.  Work your muscles.  Give everyone unsolicited advice and when they aren’t interested then just say something like, “OK, fine, just keep doing it wrong then, bro” then be sure to snap at least a hundred and fifty photos of your gun pumping to throw up on Facebook.
  • While I do most of my travel by swimming because I’m a shark, I do from time to time enjoy a good cruise in my sweet ass tricked out 1972 shark ride.  When I do, I like to beep the shit out of my horn at the guy in front of me at the exact instant the light turns green.  I don’t even wait, bro.  Not thirty seconds.  Not a minute.  Just, “Green…BEEP!”  You gotta beep as soon as the light turns green, kid.  Otherwise the guy ahead of you won’t know what to do.  It’s not my fault people are stupid bro.  I blame the public school system and the asbestos and lead paint and whatnot.  So many people get stupid just by licking lead paint and asbestos its insane, bro.  It really is.

OK 3.5 bros, that’s all the douchy chillaxing advice I’ve got for you as of this moment in time, but if you’re a douche and you’ve got some advice on how to be a douche for all the other douches reading this shit then by all means, share in the comments, bro.

Until next time, I’ll be swimming up to some crunk ass parties uninvited and drinking all the beers, cuz.

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#31WaysToDefeat a Vampire – Way #6 -Sharks

By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire



We vampires like to pretend that we’re indestructible but no one can defeat a shark.

Sharks can easily chomp through a vampire.

Humans and/or vampires alike should avoid sharks.

That’s about it. I’m really phoning it in today…because I’m an asshat. Don’t judge me.

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A Day in the Life of Douche Shark


Douche Shark

Hey 3.5 bros.

Wassup? Wass good?  All up on the Bookshelf Battle Blog, my broheims.

Douche Shark here.  Yup. That’s right.  Dr. Hugo Von Science took the DNA of a shark and the DNA of a douche, spliced it all together and boom, you got yourselves a douche-shark-a-rino.

Not so bad being a douche shark though.  I usually wake up about noon, noon and a half, one p.m. at the latest.

I text my she-shark girlfriend that I’m dumping her cuz she got fat then I text a photo of my douche shark junk to a new fine honey she shark I got my eyes on.

Not gonna lie, brosef, lady sharks love a good pic of your shark junk.  I don’t make the rules. Don’t hate the douche shark playa, hate the douche shark game.

Oh and you know what else is good when you text your she-shark? Call her “bae” then drop like 9,229 emojis in there. I like to go all “smiley face, smiley face, smiley face, water pistol, poop with sunglasses.”  She-sharks love that.

Bonus points if you call your she-shark by the wrong name when you text her, bro.

Sure, she’ll be all mad when you’re like, “Wat up, Becky Shark?” and she’s all, “Eff U I’m Susie Shark” but that’s cool you just smooth it over with your talking skills and tell her she must have read it wrong or her phone is busted and shit or something.

So anyway, after I get off the phone with the lady sharks, its time for some nummy nums.  When I get hungry, I like to get myself a green smoothie. It’s good for the earth and my bowels.

Oh and then I follow that smoothie up by devouring at least twenty to thirty beach goers.  Maybe a surfer, maybe a sailor, whatever is there bro, no need to get picky cuz it all goes down the same hole and all comes out the other one if you know what I mean.

Am I right?  Am I right? Come on. Gimmie a high five. Come on bro. Don’t leave a douche shark hanging.

Aw but then after I eat, I gots to set my fantasy football lineup and spent at least three to seven hours telling everyone about how my fantasy football lineup is the best and their fantasy football lineup is the worst.

I can’t help it.  I am just a fabulously sexy douche shark who was blessed by Jesus with the ability to set quality fantasy football lineups.

After the lineup is set, I gots to take fifty nine selfies of myself in a whimsical manner. I take all the photos myself, but I stare my shark eyeballs off to the side so as to fool the dummies looking at my Sharkbook that someone else took the pictures and that I was very busy thinking deep, intellectual thoughts.

Oh speaking of Sharkbook, did I mention that I like to post photos of my green smoothies? Seven or eight will do.  Remember – always post photos of everything you eat or drink on Sharkbook.  Sharks will be very disappointed if you don’t.  Everyone must know about everything you eat at all times.

What else? What else?

Right, so after the selfies I like to head over to the shark gym, do a few curls, work on my bis, my tris, my lats, my delts, my fin.  Remember, its very important to grunt as loud as possible to let everyone in the gym know that you are the one lifting the most weight and therefore your workout is more important than everyone else’s workout.  It just is bro diddly, it just is.  And everyone needs to know it.

After that its off to the shark bar.  I like to smack the she-shark waitress on her tail fin because they like that, you know?  Really, they get disappointed if you don’t do it.

Then I order a frosty brew or two, tip the waitress with any pocket change I happen to have left over, and then I sing obscure karaoke songs until I pass the eff out and have to get dragged out of the bar by the shark police.

Good times, bro. Good times.

So that was a day in the life of a douche shark. Hope you enjoyed it, 3.5 bros. Of course you did.

You’re welcome.  High five!  Whoops, too slow, bro, too slow.


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BQB’s Bucket List – Part the First

An ongoing list of things that I, Bookshelf Q. Battler, want to do before I croak:

#1 – Discover the secret to not croaking.  Hide it from the world so that I am the only one who knows how to not croak. Laugh at everyone as they croak.

#2 – Climb a regular sized mountain. Lie and tell everyone I climbed Mt. Everest. How would anyone know the difference? Everyone is a dummy who has never climbed a mountain.

#3 – Fart in the presence of the Queen of England. I don’t know why. It is nothing against the Queen and/or England. It is something to do with offending someone super classy. Actually, I should probably substitute the Queen with just someone who is super classy so as to avoid a smelly international incident.

#4 – Attach a Go Pro camera to my head then do absolutely nothing athletic ever. Bore my 3.5 readers with action footage of me stuffing cake into my face hole then taking a nap.

#5 – Punch a shark in the face. This shark, in particular:


Don’t feel bad for him. This shark is a douche and I suspect that he once ate a manatee…and the manatee had just discovered the cure to crotch fungus.

Now the cure for crotch fungus is lost forever thanks to this schmuck shark.  Everyone will be itchy forever.

#6 – Rappel.  Women have always told me that I am repellant so I should be good at it. Although I’m not sure if being repellant means that you would be any good at rappelling down the side of a wall like an action hero star.

#7 – Run for the Presidency of Barbados.  Everyone wants to be the President of the U.S., right? Who needs it? Too much work. No one wants to run Barbados. So let me do it. Fun. Sun.  You just wake up and tell everyone to run around the beach and be happy and sell trinkets to fat stupid tourists. I would president the shit out of Barbados and all the Barbadoonians would love me and hail me as a god.

#8 – Win the gold in an obscure Olympic event, just so I could be all fat and ugly and walk around in my USA track suit with and stand next to pro javelin throwers and race runners and show off my gold medal for Olympic paper airplane making.

#9 – Go everywhere in a helicopter.  Land my helicopter at the grocery store. Land it at the dentist office. Land it wherever I need to go.  People will be all like, “you can’t land that helicopter here, jerk face!” and I’ll be all like “Shut up ass clown, I own a helicopter so I can do whatever I want!”

#10 – Oh. I suppose I should add some nice shit to this list. And I’d like to say that I thought about doing nice shit right up front and in no way should you assume that being nice was an afterthought because it is the last item on this list.  So I would probably adopt some orphans and teach them all how to start their own blogs to bring in their own 3.5 readers.

Thank you, 3.5 readers.  Let me know what is on your bucket list.

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