Tag Archives: women

Daily Discussion with BQB – The Infamous Google Memo

Hey 3.5 readers.

So…here’s something that happened that sounds like it could be an Onion article.  A Google employee wrote a memo that essentially says Google suppresses different opinions and could benefit from allowing different opinions.

For offering a different opinion, the dude was fired.

I’m worried to even dip my toe in this fray.  God knows it’s never good to get on the wrong side of the PC police.

But it’s just…if you actually read the guy’s memo, he’s actually a) recognizing that lack of women working in tech is a problem and b) offering possible solutions to help bring more women into the tech sector.

For example, he notes that more part-time jobs might help women get into tech.  Women often find themselves torn between career and family.  Part-time jobs could help mothers keep a foothold in the tech industry but still leave them with enough time to be with their children.  When their kids are older, women who worked part-time will have a much easier finding full time employment.

OK this is where you breathe fire on me and tell me “Blah blah blah why should women have to stay home with the kids?”  You know what?  If they don’t want to, then they shouldn’t.  I’m talking about women who actually, legit WANT to spend time with their children but still also work part time and also have a full time job when their kids are older and don’t need as much help anymore.

OK this is where you breathe fire on me and say, “Well why don’t the men stay home with the kids?”  Well, if they want to, they should be able to.  Problem is this.  The women’s rights movement has gone a long way into bringing more fairness as to what society “expects” from women.

If you’re a woman and you want to work, there are more people than ever who will not give you shit for that.  Also, if you’re a woman and you would rather stay home with your children because you think hugging those babies is what life is all about, people won’t give you shit either.  You’ve got options.

There has not been a corresponding shift in societal expectations of men.  If you are a man, you’d better work and be a good provider if you want a woman.  Your ability to attract a woman corresponds to how much money you make, as if you are a human ATM machine and your personality, your mind, etc matters little.  If you stay home with the kids, you’ll be considered a pussy.

But you know what?  More part time jobs might help men too.  Dads could take a part time job and keep their toe in tech while they take care of kids.  Maybe they could do that while their wives work part time.

And then the memo goes on to suggest that some, note, some women prefer cooperative over competitive environments.  Thus, the memo suggests there should be more group projects where workers help one another rather than solo projects where everyone climbs over each other to be number one.

Sounds like a nice environment, doesn’t it?  I’d rather work with someone than against someone.

Keep in mind the memo doesn’t say ALL women want to work part time, that they ALL want to choose kids over careers, that they ALL prefer cooperation over competition…what he’s saying is enough women do that a significant number stay out of tech and if they could receive some reasonable assistance, the number of women in tech would increase.

But all the PC police see is, “OMG!  He said men and women are different!  Get him!”

It just seems crazy to me.  So contradictory.

PC FOLKS:  We’re mad there aren’t more women in tech!

MEMO GUY:  Here are some ideas that might help get more women into tech.

PC FOLKS:  Rot in hell scumbag!

MEMO GUY:  OK I’ve been fired so I can’t suggest more ideas to help get more women into tech.

PC FOLKS:  Boo!  Why aren’t there more women in tech?

What say you 3.5 readers?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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#ThingsOnlyWomenWritersHear

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Female writers are mad as hell and they’re not taking it anymore, 3.5 readers.

They’ve taken to Twitter to share some of the nasty, rude, unkind, insensitive things that they hear as women writers.

Hmm.  You know, I’m nothing if not a friend to all female kind, so there was a part of me that just said, “Eh, don’t even write a post about it.  Let the ladies complain.”

And honestly, as I scroll through the tweets, much of it is valid.  Women get told they can’t write from a male perspective, that complex topics might be too hard for them, that they’re selfish for writing when they should be taking care of their kids and husbands and so forth.

I guess what irks me is the “only” part of the hashtag.

Look, ladies, I hear you.  You got problems.  That vagina and all the things that come with it is not a cakewalk.

However, do keep in mind that there’s something that no male writer has ever heard before:

“Here’s a million dollar book deal because you have a penis!”

It’s never happened.

This sort of reminds me how sometimes I’ll be watching TV and a woman will complain that men can be all fat and ugly while women are expected to be hot and attractive.

Umm…sure I’ll agree that it sucks when a woman is discriminated on based on their looks, but honestly, men that don’t look good get shit upon regularly too.  It’s not a male/female thing, it’s a looks thing.  The better you look, the farther you’ll go in life, whether you have a penis or a vagina.

Back to the hashtag.  Do male writers get shit on?  Yes.  Ever since I was a little BQB boy, everyone has shit on my dream of becoming a writer.  Men have shit on it.  Women have shit on it.

I work and then I try to carve out a little time at night and on the weekends to write.  Often, several weeks will go by where I don’t work on my novel projects at all because various people in my life need help.  So I help them.

In the past, I’d try saying something like, “Hey, I’m trying to write a novel here” but they, men and women, would look at me like I just said, “Hey, I’m trying to time travel to ancient times and bring back a dinosaur to be my pet.”

In other words, the average person who is not interested in writing think that attempting to write a novel is frivolous and silly.  If you tell people you’re writing a novel, some people will be polite and say, “Oh, isn’t that nice?”  or they’ll be supportive and say, “That’s awesome!” but many, if not most, will think you’re being a wide-eyed dreamer with your head in the clouds, too busy day dreaming to pay attention to everything going on around you.

Yes, it sucks when female writers get shit on and told they are bad mothers and bad wives if they dare to carve out some time to write.

But, men get shit too.  Men are expected to be manly.  Men are expected to make a lot of money and be good providers.  Men are expected to fix shit around the house when it breaks.  When men take time to write, they’re often called pussies and wimps engaging in a frivolous daydream rather than being manly and making more money or fixing a car engine or something.

Men get shit.  Women get shit.  We all get shit.  And we should be all be able to complain about the shit we get.

And before you give me shit, I feel like in the numerous project irons I’ve got in the fire, I’ve written some very strong, positive, female characters and I’ve had plots and subplots that point out some of the shit that women have to go through.

I just feel like we’re headed down a bad path in this country where the debate always turns on, “Well, I have this kind of genitalia so my life sucks and your life is great.”

No.  No.  No.  Life sucks.  It sucks in different ways for different people and sometimes the suck is even similar.  But it sucks.  It really sucks and you don’t get a pass on the suckyness of life just because you have one kind of body part or another.

OK, everyone let the point fly over their heads and proceed to bash your humble resident nerd in 3..2…1…

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Top Ten Warning Signs Your Boyfriend Might Be a Clown

Ahh, clowns.  The children’s entertainers of yesteryear.  Who knows when it became fashionable for adults to put on red wigs and paint their faces white in an effort to make children laugh?  All we know is that it usual makes children cry.

Ladies, do you think it might be possible that you are dating a clown?

 

From BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Boyfriend Might Be a Clown:

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#10 – He acts like a clown.

Note that I’m not referring to “clown” as a synonym for “jerk” or “idiot.”  So, yeah, if he forgets your birthday, you can call him a clown.  However, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be entertaining anyone at the circus anytime soon.

#9 – Paints His Face White Everyday

This is a definite warning sign that he might be a clown, but then again he might also be an 18th Century French Aristocrat and forgot to tell you.  Ask him whether or not it is advisable to tell poor people to eat cake.  If his answer is “no,” then it’s highly probable that your boyfriend is a clown.

#8 – Has a Tiny Car

No, I’m not talking about a Honda Civic or a Toyota Corolla.  I’m talking about a little tiny, wind-up toy car that somehow he not only fits himself into, but also twenty of his closest friends.  Also, all of those friends look like clowns.

#7 – Has Red Hair

True, clowns have been known to wear red wigs.  However, you don’t want to start an international incident with Ireland by running around, accusing every redhead you see of clownery.

#6 – Makes Balloon Animals

If he can make any balloon animal that’s more complicated than a snake (which is simply, a long balloon), then that’s a dead giveaway your boyfriend went to clown college.  Balloon animal making is a very serious discipline, achieved only through six weeks of study at a small office in a seedy, rundown strip mall.

#5 – Has Big Floppy Shoes

He could be a clown but think back.  Has he ever tried to sell you to desperate perverts?  In that case, he’s probably not a clown.  In fact, he’s probably a pimp.  Clowns and pimps shop at the same oversized novelty shoe store.  Everyone knows this.

#4 – Has a Red Nose

Maybe he’s a clown.  Maybe he’s a heavy drinker.  Hard to say.

#3 – Wears Loud, Crazy Colors and Patterns

See #5 vis a vis the possibility that he might either be a clown or a pimp.  Clowns and pimps also shop at the same clothing stores.

#2 – Rides a Tiny Tricycle

It’s entirely possible that this might mean your boyfriend is a clown but then again, have you seen the gas prices these days?  I’m surprised everyone isn’t riding around on a tiny tricycle!

#1 – He Threw a Pie in Your Face

A pie in your face is usually the first unequivocal warning sign a woman gets in order to wake her up to the new reality that her boyfriend is a clown.  However, keep in mind that a) your boyfriend might just be very clumsy and didn’t throw the pie at your face on purpose or b) he did throw the pie at your face on purpose, but not because he’s a clown but because he wants to break up with you.  In case of option b, thank your boyfriend for, in these confusing times where couples rarely communicate well with each other, your boyfriend has chosen to end things with a pie in your face.  Nothing says, “it’s over” like a mug full of custard.

HONORABLE MENTION:  Sings, “doo dee doo dee doo dee doo doo doo doo” during intimate moments.  He could be a clown or he could just be very excited.

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In Case You Missed It – Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Romance Movie Fan

Oh Hollywood.  You’re always making men look so much better than we are, thus letting women down whenever we fart or burp or do something that doesn’t live up to your ultra high standards.

Is your girlfriend way too addicted to Romance Movies?  Check this fabulous list to be sure.

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Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be the Bride of Frankenstein

“It’s alive!  It’s alive!”

No seriously, BQB’s Top Ten Girlfriend/Boyfriend Warning Sign Lists live on after a long hiatus.

So without further ado, from BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might be the Bride of Frankenstein.

#10 – She has an electrifying personality, not in the sense that she can carry a conversation well but rather, she needs to get zapped with a damn lightning bolt every day before she gets up and moves around.

#9 – Exceptionally tall hair-do.  No one wants to sit behind her at the movies.

#8 – Frankenstein himself is always shuffling slowly in your general direction in an effort to maul you.  Can’t really blame him. She is “The Bride of Frankenstein” and not “The Bride of Insert Your Name Here” after all, you loathsome pervert.

#7 – She has incredible brute strength, so much so that a little hand action down south is out of the question.

#6 – Screams gibberish at you constantly, all day long.  So…right, like most women.

#5 – Has only been alive for five minutes but still figured out how to do that annoying duck lip selfie that all women insist on doing.

#4 – Spends a fortune on hair spray.

#3 – Has cold feet and cold everything else.

#2 – Asks you if the butt that Doctor Frankenstein sewed on her looks big. There is no acceptable answer that won’t result in you being torn apart other than, “No.”

#1 – Gets mad at you. When you ask her why she’s mad she responds, “Grr! Argh! Me think you know why! Ugh!”

 

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Go Topless Day

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Happy Sunday 3.5 readers.

Fun fact: today is International Go Topless Day.

I’m not sure I should link to information about this holiday because that would warp your degenerate minds.

Needless to say, there are women who believe it is discriminatory that men get to walk around topless and they don’t. So they have parades and events and stuff where they let their fun bags fly free.

Ehh…of all the causes out there I’m not sure there’s a whole lot of opposition.  I don’t think you’ll find a lot of men saying, “No!  No I do not want to see those boobs!  Cover up those boobs!”

Although personally as a man, I can tell you that we men often view easily viewed boobs as some sort of trap, kind of like Lucy holding the football only to yank it away and laugh when Charlie Brown runs up to kick it.

I assume (though don’t get mad at me if you think this is assumption is wrong because I don’t I’m just talking at random here) there are probably some women who’d whip the ole sweater cannons out only to be all like “How dare you stare at my sweater cannons?!” if a man stares at them.

Am I in favor of this holiday? Well, sure. I don’t mind free range boobs.  I’d probably still sneak glances because like I said, typically seeing boobs requires copious amounts of effort so when they’re easily seen my mind is trained to think something’s up, but at any rate if adult women want to let it all hang out, they won’t get any argument from me.

Then again, I can also see the argument many might have that this is a slippery slope.  Should men be allowed to let their junk hang out?  Should we all be able to go pantsless and let our cheeks flap in the breeze?

Maybe we should. Maybe thats how we were made. Maybe we should all revert to Garden of Eden pre-Eve apple munch days when we were all innocent and frolicked in the sun in our birthday suits.

Then again, clothes do serve a purpose.  They keep us warm.  They keep us from leaving skid marks on publicly used seats.  They keep us from getting our germs all over supermarket produce. I’m not sure how that works.  Germs leap off your butt and onto the cucumbers.  For a better explanation, you’ll have to conduct noted scientist Dr. Hugo Von Science.

Heck, clothes probably even keep our junk from getting slammed in car doors more than we realize.

And there are probably some people who might get offended by the boobs.  Maybe they’re trying to take their kids for a walk and don’t want to cover their eyes the whole time.  Maybe there are enough boobs in Congress already that we have to see on the news 24/7.

Perhaps we could limit free range hooters to nude beaches.  Getting some sun on those things is the only real reason to turn them loose outside anyway, right?

Oh but then again if you limit it to certain beaches then that would be like creating boob internment camps right?  Never again, man. Never again.

And finally, I consider myself a philosopher.  During my many years of Shaolin training, my master used to ask me, “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, does it make a sound?”

That’s a question designed to train the mind to tackle complexity.  Very hard to answer.

Similarly, if boobs are hanging out, but men don’t stare at them because they don’t want to get arrested for First Degree Boob Staring, then were the boobs ever out to begin with?

I don’t know 3.5 readers. ‘Tis a question for the ages.

Women, if you’re celebrating this day, enjoy.

Men, don’t stare. It’s a trap.

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Top Ten Things Your Girlfriend Might Say About You if She Were a Classic Film Noir Detective

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Fear not, 3.5 readers.  Jake Dashing continues to file his pop culture mystery reports.

I’m just so bogged down with all my work here at Bookshelf Q. Battler Headquarters that I never have time to edit and post them.

I really need to hire an assistant.

I head a rumor though that after being told to pound sand one too many times by Attorney Donnelly, Jake has set his sights on a lady detective who he shares some uh, let’s say, “personality traits” with.

Here the mystery woman is, with the Top Ten Things Your Girlfriend Might Say About You if She Were a Classic Film Noir Detective.

(Translated from English to Film Noir Speak.)

10.  ENGLISH: Babe, you left the bathroom a mess!

FILM NOIR SPEAK:  Another day, another dollar and another twenty-four hours closer to meeting my maker. I gave up on a perfect life long ago but call me crazy, I feel like even a gal like me has a right to five minutes of peace alone in the powder room.

Sigh.  No such luck.  I open the door and find the floor covered with enough water to float the Titanic, which is ironic, because the floor is also littered with enough towels to soak up the Pacific Ocean.

I need to think.  I go to the sink and turn on the faucet, hoping a splash of cool water on my face will subdue my burning rage.  No such luck.  The sink is filled with a twisted concoction of whisker hairs, shaving cream, and toothpaste.

Just what ever gal wants. A furry viscous fluid waiting for her.  Lucky me.

Thirty seconds with a washcloth would have spared my eyes from this sight.  What’s the skinny on this palooka? Is he stupid? Rude? Was he born in a barn? Raised by hobos?

Is this some kind of bizarre power play? Leave a mess to see if the little woman will clean it up?

Or is he just that obtuse that he doesn’t notice things like this?

Speaking of noticing things, out of the corner of my eye I spot that the toilet is filled with more skid marks than the Indy 500 race track.

Men. Can’t live with ’em.  Sorry. There isn’t a second verse to that old song and dance number.

9.  ENGLISH:  I love you.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION: Love.  That and a plug nickel will buy you a cup of coffee, but at least you never have to worry about your java sprouting legs and walking away.

Men, on the other hand, have a bad habit of becoming gold medal marathon runners when you least expect it.  There one day, gone the next, the only memories he leaves you with are his silhouette against the moonlight as he makes a beeline for the door and that old familiar throbbing in your ticker…

…ba-dump…ba-dump…ba-dump.

Then again, it could just be gas.

8.  ENGLISH: I wish you’d take me somewhere nice.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION:  There’s a part of me that wants to dance. Not that I’m a spritely ballerina type mind you but the madcap irony of life is that the less you have of it, the more you want to embrace it.  Rattling around in the back of my mind like so many marbles shot by the kid with the best aggie in school are images of myself as a wrinkled up old broad, wrapped up in a shawl, rocking away in my wheelchair, cursing myself for not having danced more in my youth.

I owe it to that old gal to trip the light fantastic fella, so either cut a rug with me or I’ll find someone who will.

7.  ENGLISH:  I baked you cookies.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION: Sweets.  They’re one of the many cruel jokes played on us by the man upstairs.

Surely you’ve realized by now that the Almighty  has a peculiar sense of humor, right?

Cookies are delicious, but too many and you’ll end up looking like the love child of Fatty Arbuckle and King Kong.

Making whoopee is an equally pleasant pastime, but pick the wrong person and you’ll end up with some kind of dirty social disease.  You know, the kind that makes your privates shrivel up, turn green, and that’s only if you’re lucky.

Still, everything in moderation is the way to go, so here are some cookies. One a day makes the blues go way.

Two a day will make me go away.

Make your choice, Jack.

6.  ENGLISH:  Do these jeans make my butt look big?

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION: Sizes are like opinions.  They vary greatly depending where you go, and they all leave you feeling like you’re going to explode.

In this case, I feel like there’s going to be an ass explosion. I’m not about to share my size with you, Nosebox McGee, but let’s just say I’ve always fit in the same number except for today, as I tried a new boutique where apparently it’s the company creedo that everyone should have an ass flatter than everyone thought the pre-Columbus world was.

I can tell you’re burning a hole in the back of my jeans with your lustful eyes, because like bathroom cleanliness, subtlety has never been your strong suit.

So make like a tipped over milk carton and spill, Jack. Is it round like a candy apple or does it look like it’s got its own gravitational pull?

5.  ENGLISH: You forgot my birthday, jerk.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION:  Time. Oh how that relentless son of a bitch enjoys teasing me. Taunting me. Yanking days off the calendar of my life with reckless abandon, leaving me with little more than fuzzy memories of cheap men and even cheaper vodka.

Eighteen.  Twenty-one. All the best birthdays are gone now.  What’s left to celebrate to celebrate now other than being one year closer to shaking hands with Mr. Grim Reaper himself?

Now there’s a celebrity whose autograph you don’t want.

Still, it’s perfectly normal for anyone with a pulse to feel a burning desire to be remembered. In the end, when all is said and done, when the last clump of dirt is heaped on our graves and the undertaker collects his due, all we are to the people we leave behind is the sum total of the memories they carry with them in their minds.

And apparently, my fella isn’t carrying many thought drops about me in his brain bucket.

I saw a bum shivering on a park bench this morning.  Cold. Alone. Forgotten. Cared for by no one.

Whenever my man screws up like this, it’s hard not to see myself as ending up just ike that lowdown vagrant one day.

Cold. Alone. Forgotten.  Cared for by no one.

Thanks a lot, Jack.

4.  ENGLISH: Let’s move in together.

TRANSLATION:  Space. I have it. You have it. Who needs it? Let’s live in the now and share the cow.  My milk. Your milk.  Who cares whose gullet it goes down when it all comes out yellow anyway?

Splitting digs is always a big step in any relationship.  And sure, it might turn out to be the step that lands our feet on an emotional land mine that blows our psyches to kingdom come.

Then again, it could also be the step that leads us to the American Dream.  A nice house with a front yard, a white picket fence, three kids, a dog, and our very own shared subscription to Better Homes and Gardens.

Mull it over, palooka. For as Custer said on the way to his last stand, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

3.  ENGLISH: I forgive you for (whatever dumb thing you did recently.)

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION: They say love is blind but in my case, she must have had her eyes gouged out with rusty razors because despite all the strike marks you’ve got against you, you’re still aces in my book, bub.

2.  ENGLISH: We should get married.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION:  Here we are, two dopes stuck on a big blue marble, our lives as insignificant as a couple of ants to the shoe of a random passerby.

Call me naive. Call me crazy. Call me late for dinner but I love ya, ya big lug. There, I said it. Write it down, rubber stamp it, set it in a frame and hang it on the wall for the whole world to see.

Sure, we could end up crashing in flames like the Hindenburg but we might just circumnavigate the globe like Lucky Lindy. We’ll never know until we flap our wings and take that leap.

There’s no one I’d like to take that leap with more than you, see?

  1.  ENGLISH: I think we should break up.

FILM NOIR TRANSLATION: Alright, buster. Clean the wax out of your ears and listen up.

You and I are over. We’re done. Kaput.  It’s like seeing the final credits roll at the end of a three hour Judd Apatow film. I feel depressed that I wasted my time yet elated that this bullshit is finally out of my life now.

Take a long walk off a short pier, palooka.  Dumpsville just held an election and you’re the Mayor, the Alderman, and the dog catcher all rolled into one.

Aww, pipe down with the waterworks, see?  Like my Aunt Edna’s underpants, a crying man is a sight no one wants to see.

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Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Steampunk

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Ah, the Victorian Age!

When gadgets were powered by steam and operated by cranks and levers and wheels and other such bullshit.

Some people are so enamored with the late 1800’s that they wish they could live there.

Heck, your girlfriend acts like that all the time.

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Steampunk.

10.  When she asks if you want to get high, that usually means she’s offering you a ride in her airship.  (Although it could also be a pot reference.  Steampunks aren’t necessarily against the idea of steaming up a spliff once in awhile…)

9.  Wears goggles everywhere, for no apparent reason, even when they are not necessary.  Alas, you can’t see her beautiful eyes or tell what she’s thinking about.  (Hint: it’s probably steam.)

8.  Demands that you also convert all of your gadgets to steam power.  You thought your PC was slow before, try it when you have to turn a damn crank to get it running.

7.  Her name is something wacky, like Ezmeralda Fibbleteegibbett or Lady Shamalamadingdong.  Still refuses to take your name if you two get married.

6.  Wears a top hat everywhere, even in the boudoir, which seemed interesting at first but now in the dark it just feels too much like you’re hooking up with Abraham Lincoln.

5.  When people ask you what the hell a steampunk is, she gets mad at you when you reply, “I don’t know.  It’s a blend of sci-fi and historical fiction in which modern devices are powered through late 1800’s steam based technology, and often all of this shit happens on a damn airship?”

She shouldn’t be mad at you because that answer was straight up spot on, yo.

4.  She’s probably British.  Every British person is, in secret, a steampunk plotting to take back the US colonies through steam powered weaponry.

3.  Offered to bring some risqué steam powered uh, devices, into the bedroom.  Sounded fun at first, but now you realize your crank isn’t the one that is going to be turned…

Plus, how the hell is that steam engine going to fit in your house?

2.  Gets mad if you suggest changing it up once in awhile by using gas and/or electricity and/or some damn Duracells because “I don’t have all day to turn this crank, Steampunk Girlfriend!”

  1.  She might not be a steampunk.  She could just be a woman with a fake British accent who buys her clothes at Hot Topic and wanted a look other than goth for a change.

At any rate, bless you sir, and your steampunk girlfriend, for with her, every day will now be an adventure…in the skies…with steam!

Seriously, enough with the steam already.

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Top Ten Things Your Girlfriend Might Say to You if She Were a Pirate

Ahoy mateys.

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Yup.  There’s a joke about pirate booty to made here.

Last September, a band of pirates took over bookshelfbattle.com in celebration of National Pirate Week.

They taught you all how to talk like a pirate…but you didn’t learn how to speak like a she-pirate.

If your girlfriend were a pirate, here is the English to Pirate translation of things she might say to you…er, “to ye.”

10.  ENGLISH: Honey, I wish you’d help out around the house more.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  Avast ye stinking bilge rat!  Batten down the hatches, trim the mainsail and swab the poop deck or it’s the cat of nine tails for ye.

9.  ENGLISH:  I’m in the mood for nookie. 

PIRATE TRANSLATION: ARRR ye filthy landlubber!  Raise the misen mast fer it be time to keel haul across the starboard bow.

8.  ENGLISH: I am not happy with you right now.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  ARRRR!  Avast ye scurvy dog!  Listen and listen well, fer another trespass will earn ye a trip to walk the plank, where you’ll end up in the briney deep, trapped in Davey Jones’ locker for the rest of ye miserable days.

7.  ENGLISH:  I love you.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  Arrr.

6. ENGLISH:  I am mad at you.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  Arrr!

5.  ENGLISH:  I’m confused.

PIRATE TRANSLATION: Arrr?

4.  ENGLISH: Let’s go on a vacation.

PIRATE TRANSLATION: Point yon vessel toward the third star and journey into the rotten bowels of our miserable mistress, the sea.

3.  ENGLISH: Let’s get a drink.  I know a trendy new martini bar.

PIRATE TRANSLATION: Hoist ye grog matey and fill yer hole with this nasty brew.

2.  ENGLISH:  I’m worried about our finances.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  ARRRR!  Pillage yon village, matey!  Abscond with all the gold ye can carry and bury it where X marks the spot.

  1. ENGLISH:  I want to see other people.  It’s not you.  It’s me.

PIRATE TRANSLATION:  There isn’t a literal pirate translation for this one.  She would just run a sword through your belly, matey.  Arr.

 

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Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Doomsday Prepper

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Your girlfriend will kick so much undead ass during the zombie apocalypse.

She thinks it’s the end of the world as we know it…but do you feel fine? 

Alas, to all good things must come an end.  Just as the dinosaurs were wiped out when they plugged in their curling irons all at once, so too may humanity cease to be one day.

But probably not while we’re alive.  It’s those future suckers who’ve got problems.

Or is the end closer than we think?  Your girlfriend sure seems to think so.

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Doomsday Prepper:

10.   Attempted to get you to drink your own urine to, and I quote, “get you used to the robust flavor.” Not only did you hurt her feelings with your emphatic refusal, you’re also not able to look at lemonade the same way ever again.

9.  Refers to The Walking Dead and Mad Max as “training videos.”

8.  Every piece of clothing in her closet is camouflage.  In fact, if you were to wear camouflage and then stand in front of all of her camouflage clothes, you’d disappear.  Trippy.

7.  Her basement is filled with enough tin cans to give a hungry billy goat an orgasm.  (Get it?  Because doomsday preppers store canned food and billy goats like to eat tin cans and…oh.  I guess the cans have to be empty for a goat to want to chew on it.  You know what?  Forget it. When it needs to be explained, it isn’t funny.  Moving on…)

6.  She has more guns than your local run of the mill street gang…and she knows how to use ’em.

5.  She packed his and her bug out bags filled with survival gear to grab in a hurry when the zombies, aliens, machines, invading troops, catastrophic weather event, nuclear meltdown or other to be named tragedy unfolds, causing a need to “bug out” the door in a hurry.  Feel loved, my friend, because that means there’s no one else she’d rather spend the apocalypse with than you.

4.  Forget diamonds.  All she wants for Valentine’s Day is a gas mask.

3.  From hang nails to a steak dinner, she does all of her cutting with the same machete.

2.  Claims an ability to patch up wounds with bat guano (in case you were wondering why she keeps feeding ex-lax to that bat.)

  1.  Built an underground bunker.  Connected a hot tub, disco lights, and a recording of Barry White to a gas powered generator because hey, the world may have come to an end, but the romance is just beginning.
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