I’m going through a phase where I’m wondering whether or not blogging, Twittering, Facebooking et al is little more than narcissistic d-baggery.
Fear not. It will pass.
And don’t forget to follow me on Twitter and Facebook.
Bookshelf Battle
The only site where new bestsellers are forced to do battle for space on a nerd's bookshelf.
Tag Archives: twitter
Monica Lewinsky’s Tweet About Lemonade
OK I thought of something to write about.
I haven’t listened to Beyonce’s Lemonade yet but apparently it is some kind of denouncement of Jay Z’s cheating with a chick on the side, or in general a lament about “other women.”
Ahh…what rarified air one must live in to have Beyonce and still feel the need to get side action (and be able to get that side action) but I digress.
Anyway, Monica Lewinsky, perhaps the most notable chick on the side in U.S. political history, tweeted this:
And you know what? I say good for her. It only took twenty years but at least now she can laugh about that whole kerfuffle.
3.5 readers, regardless of your political persuasion, can we all agree that its way past time to let Monica off the hook for, you know, her extracurricular activities vis a vis the executive branch?
Should she have ever really been on the hook in the first place?
Was she an adult at the time? Sure. But she was a young one. Like early twenties. And the President of the United States, the frigging Leader of the Free World came on to her…
I’m sorry but I can’t fault her for playing that saxophone.
And between the President of the United States or the intern in her early 20’s, I feel like the Prez bore the greater responsibility to keep those escapades from happening.
Not that it would ever happen but hell, if I ever find myself working for a lady president, and the lady president asks me to do some exploratory research down south…I don’t think I’d be able to say no. I mean, she’s the lady president.
Get on with your bad self, Monica. At least you made the late 1990’s interesting.
Things That Really Frost My Ass – Excessive Door Holders and Confusing Boob Photos
By: Uncle Hardass, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Grumpy Old Man Correspondent
Uncle Hardass, Complainer at Large
Hello degenerate 3.5 readers.
Still working on your writing careers, I see.
Hey I have a joke for you. What’s the difference between a writer and a homeless bum?
Homeless bums write their sob stories exclusively on cardboard.
Bah ha ha! I slay me. But seriously, all of you should abandon your hopes and dreams and get jobs immediately. The salt mines are hiring.
It’s been awhile since I’ve gone a complaint spree, so here are two of my latest grievances about the rat trap of a world we live in:
Excessive Door Holders
Have you ever been twenty feet or more away from a door only to have some jackass who reached the door ahead of you stand there and hold it open for you forever, even when you are far away from the door?
Holy shit. Look, I get that social etiquette requires you to hold a door open for a person who is immediately behind you, BUT IT DOES NOT REQUIRE YOU TO HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ANY PERSON ON THE SAME PLANE OF EXISTENCE!
People, putting your hand on a door handle does not require you to stay there and hold that damn door open for anyone and everyone who may want to use that door until the end of time.
Are you unsure as to whether or not a person approaching the door you are currently opening is too far away for you to hold said door open?
Here’s a helpful rule of thumb. Count off three Mississippi’s. If I’m not there by number three, then start hauling ass, junior. I can open doors by myself just fine and I’m not about to start rushing just because you’ve decided to stand there like a moron and hold a door open for me when the space between us could double as a regulation NFL football field.
Here’s a helpful guide I have created to help you dingbats figure out when and when not to hold the door for someone:
Where the Person is and If You Should Hold the Door Open for Them
3-5 feet behind you. (Yes)
Some hot babe you want an excuse to meet. (Yes, however far away she may be, though you’ll disappoint her immensely because you are a writer and therefore have nothing to offer her. Get a job at the salt mines and she’ll be all over you.)
Still walking in from the parking lot. (No.)
In France right now but this person may want to enter the building later this year. (No.)
On Mars but this person would like to enter the building at some point this decade. (No.)
In an alternate universe but this person would like to enter the building before time collapses on itself and the universe as we know it ceases to be. (No.)
There you have it. Learn when and when not to hold a door, ya pukes, because I hurry up for no one. If I’m nowhere near the door and you stop to hold it for me like a jackass, it is my God given right as a American to not only refuse to walk faster, but to walk even slower and make you wait for whatever appointment you are going to.
(And let’s be honest. It isn’t a job interview, is it?)
Confusing Boob Photos
Kim Kardashian and her friend Emily Rata…Ratana…Ratajawowwah…
BQB EDITORIAL NOTE: It’s Emily Ratajkowski, Uncle Hardass.
Get a job. Anyway, a couple weeks ago, Kim Kardashian and Emily Ratawhoever posted this photo of their blacked out bosoms with their middle fingers in the air and I for one have been more confused than a three legged greyhound at a racetrack ever since:
Really, what is my response to this photo supposed to be? Look dames, I know you’re all for women’s rights and all that hullabaloo, but it’s times like these that leave men befuddled.
Here are some possible male responses to this photo, followed by female answers:
MALE RESPONSE #1 – “Holy moly look at those sweater cannons!”
FEMALE RESPONSE #1 – “How dare you objectify women like that, you pig.”
Baffled yet? It gets worse:
MALE RESPONSE #2 – “You’re right. How dare Kim and Emily Ratasomething expose their bosoms to the world! How tasteless!”
FEMALE RESPONSE #2 – “Expletive deleted you! These women are just expressing themselves. How dare you tell them that a display of their beautiful femininity is wrong?”
Is your head ready to explode yet? Wait for it…
MALE RESPONSE #3 – “Umm…you’re right? I like their boobs?”
FEMALE RESPONSE #3 – “Pig!”
Don’t try to make sense of it, men. Just bow down to your female masters. The skirts have won and the sooner you admit it, the better.
All I know is back in my day, if a broad wanted to show you her chest rockets, you took the time to oggle them like a gentleman then thank her for her trouble.
What kind of a world do we live in now when women feel like they must now preemptively insult via middle finger people who don’t like their boob displays?
“Yup. Here are our boobs and if you don’t like it, here’s the bird.”
I swear. Sometime when I wasn’t looking the Commies won and turned this country topsy turvy.
Anyway, those are my latest complaints, 3.5 readers. If there’s something that really frosts your ass, feel free to complain about it in the comments.
Or better yet, get a job.
Alien Jones Checks In
Greetings Earth Losers.
The Esteemed Brainy One plays Candy Crush on his Space Phone
The Esteemed Brainy One here, blogging from Kemphos 91, where an uprising has occurred due to a lack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Yes, that’s right. You’d be surprised in the vastness of space, that such seemingly trivial things are capable of generating interplanetary conflicts but here we are.
Keep in mind that the Kemphans require a constant supply of peanuts or else they break out into spontaneous song and dance numbers, which sounds like fun, but then they do it for days until finally their heads explode.
I’ve seen it happen. It isn’t pretty. It’s like being front row at a Gallagher performance.
Kemphos 1-90 really needs to fork over some of their peanut reserves to 91 but until then, I have to do my best to keep the peace.
Apologies for not writing more this year, Earth losers, but I just haven’t had the time. Disorder has been breaking out all over the cosmos this year. It’s very unsavory.
In the meantime, please assist me with my mission to launch BQB’s writing career. The sooner BQB is an established writer, the sooner the Mighty Potentate will get off my back.
Did I say get off my back? I meant to say until the Mighty Potenate can be pleased by another one of his genius plans coming to fruition.
All hail the Mighty Potentate.
Here’s where you can find Bookshelf Q. Battler on the inter webs.
Humans, I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but your likes and follows will help keep the Mighty Potentate’s plans to conquer the Earth at bay.
Technically, I’m not allowed to criticize the Mighty Potentate, but let’s just say that he literally solves all political problems by vaporizing his opponents.
Not exactly a boon for democracy, but it does make for fun prime time debate viewing.
Thank you 3.5 Earth losers. I’ll be back sometime this summer to answer your questions, so keep them coming.
Top Ten Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Damn Reality TV Star
And now from BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Reality Television Star!
10. Cameras follow her around wherever she goes, despite the fact that she never does anything relevant or newsworthy whatsoever.
9. Meanwhile, producers follow you around wherever you go, demanding that you engage your girlfriend in obviously contrived dramatic interactions. Tell her you have a disease that you don’t really have. Tell her that her sister is dying when she doesn’t even have a sister. Tell her a mutual friend that doesn’t exist was just hit by a bus. Just tell her something that sounds totally awful to keep the viewers from changing the channel.
8. That teeny weeny dog living in her purse gets more kisses from her than you do.
7. When she does kiss you she leaves so much glitter on you that you end up looking like Tinkerbell took a dump on your face.
6. You’ve grown accustomed to words like “lurve,” “totes” and “bae.” At least when you’re down, you can always count on a “I totes lurve u 4-eva bae” text. (If she isn’t busy at da club.)
5. She drinks enough to drop a Clydesdale, yet somehow manages to looks good in the morning…er, well…in the afternoon…after twenty-five assistants fix and readjust everything.
4. She has her own fragrance, vodka, fashion line and music album. Yet somehow, her head will explode if you ask her to read The Cat in the Hat.
3. You broke the news to her that your doctor thinks you need a colonoscopy. She wants to know if she can live tweet the whole experience and put the camera feed on periscope.
2. People are constantly searching the inter webs for nude photos of her. Stop selling nude photos of her, you pervert.
- She argues with you using hashtags:
YOU: Hi babe. Sorry I’m late.
HER: #tookyoulongenough!
YOU: I couldn’t help it. Traffic was a nightmare.
HER: #tellsomeonewhocares
YOU: Aww. Don’t be like that.
HER: #worstboyfriendever!
HONORABLE MENTION:
We would have also accepted:
- Owns more leopard printed clothing than Tarzan.
- Ironically, wears less of said clothing, or any clothing really, than Tarzan.
- Owns enough shoes to outfit a gaggle of centipedes.
- Selfies. So many selfies.
- Tries to look hot with a duck faced selfie. Ends up looking like Daisy Duck suffering through a yeast infection.
- She gets a manicure. It’s a show. She gets a pedicure. It’s a show. She goes shopping. It’s a show. She stands on one foot and bounces up and down? It’s a two hour special.
Batman vs. Superman vs. My Bookshelf
Holy Crap 3.5 Readers.
I walk away from my magic bookshelf for 3.5 seconds and this happens:
Enough you two! Settle your differences and get down to the important business of punching Lex Luthor in the face.
Is there a battle on your bookshelf? Tweet the photographic evidence to @bookshelfbattle #bookshelfbattle and I might just share it with my 3.5 readers.
Bookshelf Battle 