Tag Archives: writing

BQB – Warm Up # 2 – Famous Last Words

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Warm Up #2 – Famous Last Words

Choose your own setting and characters and write a scene that ends with someone saying your choice of:

“I’d love just a dab of potatoes au gratin for they are delightful this time of year.”

“What? How dare Prince Montgomery imply that I resemble a baboon’s backside during mating season?”

“You never know what’s in your pockets until you check.”

“Ow! I can’t believe you slapped me in the face with a radioactive hemorrhoid donut pillow!”

“Why did you kill Artie? He was so handsome and kind and he smelled like peppermint schnapps.”

“I’ll take one of those and one of those and three of those.”

“Had I known this party was going to be such a torrid affair I would have attended sans pantaloons.”

“Avast, ye scurvy dog! Walk the plank ye dirty scoundrel, for it’s off to Davy Jones’ locker with ye, arr.”

“Damn baby, we gots to do this again.”

“Don’t trip just because I look so good.”

“I hate these shoes. They squeak too much and they smell terrible.”

“Has anyone seen my squirrel’s nut sack? He never leaves his tree hole without it.”

“Well, that’s the last time I visit Cucamonga without a fiver and a fifth of tequila.”

“Hey you with the face!”

“Oh yeah? You and what army?”

“You’ll never take me alive, copper!”

“Three strikes! You’re out!”

“It only rains on Tuesdays in December.”

“What a woman. I’ll never meet another one like her.”

“What a man. I hope I never meet a doofus like him again.”

“All aboard the Titanic!”

“I think I left my sandwich in my other genes.”

“Do you really love me?”

“If the Count has a problem with me, he can tell me himself.”

“I enjoy causing large, obnoxious explosions and walking away slowly without looking back at them because I am an action movie badass and that’s what action movie badasses do.”

“Paging Miss Womtana. Miss Womtana, you are needed in suite three.”

“It’s a good day to slurp ice cream.”

“It’s a good day to quit watching game shows.”

“It’s a good day to die.”

“It’s a good day to come back to life.”

“It’s a good day to sleep in my barcalounger.”

“Who sings this song?”

“I can’t believe we’ll never see Murray again.”

“One lobster with extra butter please.”

“That schmuck was the lousiest tipper I’ve ever seen.

“Whoa. I can’t believe you wore that out of your house. Go back and change.”

“Only one more minute till the tuna turns on his flashlight.”

“Brother, can you spare a packet of soy sauce?”

“If Jim wants a divorce then no one is stopping him.”

“I’ll sue!”

“Ma’am, would you mind handing me the taco salad?”

“If I live for a thousand years I’ll never understand this.”

“That guy is the worst.”

“Laurie? Sure, I know Laurie. Face like a science experiment gone wrong, but a sweet gal. The kind of gal you want to hold hands with on a park bench and swap stories with until you’re both old and gray.”

“Doug left me with Chad and Chad is insane.”

“Freud could study you for a year and still not figure out why you’re bonkers.”

“Lady, I have no idea why you’re constipated.”

“Surprise!”

“That’s just life in the big city.”

“Swell. That’s just swell.”

“I think I love you but I better check with Aunt Matilda just to be sure.”

“Fantastic heist, gang. Let’s meet back at the hideout in an hour and nobody do anything stupid, capiche?”

“Sorry, I broke character again.”

“I’ve met the Duke of Tuscany. I’ve eaten caviar with the Duke of Tuscany. The Duke of Tuscany is the best friend I have ever known and we have frolicked naked in the strawberry fields many times together. You, my good man, are not the Duke of Tuscany.”

“Cripes! I’ve been shot!”

“Waldo is a jerk. Let’s never ask him for butter again.”

“I’m lost.”

“Who moved my cheddar biscuit?

“Larry, why don’t you just ask for directions already?”

“Kate, I want you to marry me. You’re the only one I want to move to the Bronx with.”

“Well whoop-dee-friggin-doo. Let’s like we got a real boy scout on our hands here, fellas.”

“As God as my witness, I’ll never drink that much again.”

“Girl, you ain’t all that a box of cookies.”

“‘Ello guvnah.”

“Platypus – the other white meat.”

“Oh no! The killer is coming this way! I know! I’ll run upstairs and take a shower!”

“Marvin? Never heard of the guy.”

“I think you need to back off.”

“Sir, you are certifiably bananas.”

“What a wild goose chase that ones.”

“Did anyone think there would be ducks on the moon?”

“Best car on the market.”

“I’ll see your ten and raise you twenty and a pocket watch worn once by a guy I met on a bus.”

“I feel funny.”

“I smelly funny.”

“You look funny.”

“Funny is as funny does.”

“Sure, you can dance, but do you know how to sing?”

“Don’t cry for me. I’ve been to New Jersey.”

“Oh Lana, will you ever stop playing canasta long enough to realize that I matter?”

“Why?”

“Who is that running through the gymnasium in a gregarious manner?”

“That’s the last time I pay a contractor up front.”

“I can do this for days.”

“Jupiter is my favorite planet in the solar system.”

“I am not to be taken lightly.”

“I will not drink flat soda.”

“Love is for suckers.”

“What have you done?”

“I want to make an honest woman out of you.”
“Hey baby, nice tea kettle. Does it whistle when its hot?”

“Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Encore!”

“It aint over till the fat lady sings.”

“If Jasmine wants a quiche, Jasmine gets a quiche.”

“I’m tired of running.”

“I’ll never talk! I’m no squealer and nothing you do will make me turn rat.”

“What a wonderful day in Idaho.”

“If looks could kill I’d be in perfect health.”

“What a silly bunch of idiots we’ve got in this neck of the woods.”

“I’ll never speak to you again. Call me Thursday.”

“If it aint broke, don’t fix it.”

“Why did you take all the pudding?”

“This is perfectly safe.”

“What a fine predicament you’ve gotten us into.”

“Don’t worry. Lenny will fix everything.”

“Cash only. No credit.”

“There are so many naked people in this room it was just declared a nudist colony.”

“I need a fresh pair of underwear.”

“Clean up on aisle seven.”

“Well sure, it works now!”

“Well, I never!”

“Why don’t you look me in the eye when you say that?”

“We’re all gathered her today to remember the life of our dear friend.”

“I hate you.”

“I want to see you again.”
“Let’s meet at this very spot in twenty years if neither of us is married.”

“Let’s meet at this very spot in twenty years if neither of us has tried swordfish by then. I hear a good sautéed swordfish steak is delicious.”

“Let’s just throw caution to the wind and be together now and forgot about meeting in this spot in twenty years.”

“You’re an animal! Do you hear me? An animal!”

“That worked out well.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What a fine kettle of fish.”

“Never trust an imbecile to deal cards.”

“Love never strikes twice.”

“And I lived to tell the tale.”

“Oh Betsy, why do you do this to me?”

“Ring me sometime.”

“I got the blues.”

“I can’t catch a break.”

“Who are you looking at?”

“I caught a walrus. I let it go. Man was not meant to own a walrus.”

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but what some ignoramus would want a bunch of flies to begin with I’ll never know.”

“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. Tell me all about it.”

“Hello, police? I’d like to report a robbery.”

“I just read the most fascinating book.”

“Do you come here often?”

“And that’s how I saved the duchess from the jaws of a hungry T-Rex.”

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BQB Update on Design Contest

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Hey 3.5.

BQB here.

VGRF waved some smelling salts under my nose and I’m up and about again.

Still a little sad I had to open my wallet. I really do hate doing that. She wasn’t lying about ordering off the dollar menu and the grease traps and so on.

It’s only been a couple hours and someone has already submitted a pretty cool design. I mean, I want to wait until the end of the contest to see what the other designers have to offer but I’m just impressed with the power of the Internet.

Do you millennials have any idea how good you all frigging have it when it comes to becoming creative these days?

Damn it, when I was your age, I had to walk up a hill both ways in blizzard conditions just to get to a computer and when I did I still didn’t have a book cover because no one was selling book cover design services over the damn Internet.

Shit. The Internet back then made your computer make a noise like a screeching cat and you could only be on it for five minutes lest you tie up the phone line.

I look forward to sharing the results of all the designers when they come in and together we will make a good choice, 3.5 readers.

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BQB’s Book Cover Design Contest

By: Special Guest Blogger Video Game Rack Fighter

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Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB is passed the hell out on the floor for the moment, so I’ll fill you in.

As you are all aware, our favorite resident yeti fighter does not like to part with money.

But he finally did it. He put up some dough to get a 99Designs contest going.

That’s right. He’s going to publish a book of writing prompts.

In fact, before his face hit the floor, he told me that the title will be, “Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Big Book of Badass Writing Prompts: 101 Scintillating Scenarios to Stimulate Your Cranial Excretions.”

Sigh. Don’t tell him I said this but the only thing it will stimulate is a one-way ticket to Amazon’s virtual 99 cent bin.

Did I say that? No. I’m the ever supportive VGRF and what I meant to say was that this will probably be the boot in the ass he needs to get him going.

Once he sets up an author profile and has something to offer as an author, we can only hope that he will continue to work to get an actual novel out there so the Mighty Potentate won’t vaporize us all into the stone age.

No pressure, BQB.

At any rate, 3.5 readers, I figure the guy must love you all, because he actually opened up his wallet.

HE NEVER OPENS HIS WALLET.

No joke, whenever we go out on a date he’ll take me to Mighty Burger and offer to degrease the grease traps just to avoid paying for my choice off the dollar menu.

So in other words, he really loves you guys since he was so willing to part with money, an act which has made him pass out.

I can only hope he will wake up soon so the yeti will stop resting his hairy feet on him as if he were some kind of nerd shaped Ottoman.

I suppose I could stop that furry freak but unlike BQB, I am not a champion yeti fighter.

Results are expected in a week and if BQB doesn’t like any of the designs he can say no thanks.

But be ready to help him choose one.

Take care, 3.5

P.S. in the meantime, take a look at his writing prompts and tell him what you think.

 

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Mighty Potentate Transmission #1

STAND BY FOR A TRANSMISSION FROM THE MIGHTY POTENTATE, SUPREME INTERSTELLAR OVERLORD AND ALSO NOT A SHABBY DANCER

3…2…1…ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

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Greetings pitiful humans.

The Mighty Potentate here, once again confirming the existence of alien life, though I’m not worried any of you will catch on as only 3.5 of you read this blog.

Frankly, that’s what I’m hear to talk about.

Still not a big fan of all the reality television that your incompetent ass rock of a planet has been beaming out into the cosmos, 3.5 readers.

Why, just the other day I turned on my space television in the hopes of finding a decent scripted show only to find the following reality based drivel instead:

  • Who Wants to Win a Colonoscopy? – The gist is exactly as it sounds. Competitors fight for the right to have the inner workings of their hiney canals broadcast on television. Is there no level you dim bulbs will stoop to for fame?
  • Cat Hoarders – Like the regular Hoarders show but the guests hoard cats.  Cats under the beds, cats in the closets, cats in the walls, cats everywhere. So many cats.
  • Intervention Intervention – Literally, a show about interventions for people who are addicted to holding interventions. How has your species survived this long?

3.5 readers, I grow concerned that I might actually have to invade your dumb planet just to stop the spread of your insipid reality television.

First, another year is about to end and Bookshelf Q. Battler has yet to publish a novel.  I still maintain that he is the chosen one and that he will one day write a novel so well written that you will all abandon reality television and favor scripted media instead.

Second, has anyone heard from Alien Jones? I heard a rumor that your greatest earth country has elected a reality TV star as its potentate but I haven’t been able to confirm it and Jones has not been returning my calls since last Tuesday.

It’s like that little green weirdo is trying to avoid me for some reason. Strange.

Anyway, 3.5 readers, continue to slap BQB around and urge him to keep writing his novels so that reality television can be abandoned and your pitiful planet can be saved.

Potentate out.

END OF TRANSMISSION.

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State of the Bookshelf -Taking a Poll

Happy Monday 3.5 readers.

Your old pal BQB here.

Out of all of my half-written started then stopped stories, which one would you like to see me work on again the most?

I’m feeling a little lost so I’d like your input.

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BQB’s Writing Prompts Book

So I think I’m going to go ahead and do that, 3.5 readers.

Baby steps, you know.

It’ll teach me how to format a book and get it on Amazon so I’ll know by the time my first novel eventually, EVENTUALLY gets done.

The good news is I’ll be able to hook up with 99Designs for a book cover.

Do you have any ideas for a book cover for this fine writing prompts book?

Lay them on me.

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About BQB’s Writing Prompts

Hey 3.5 readers.

So I’m thinking I might start small.

I’m going to write 101 writing prompts i.e. scenarios designed to help aspiring writers get their brains going.  Read them then be inspired to start writing.

My theory is this will be a short, easy book.  Easy to format. It’ll help me learn how to get a book together and get it up and out on Amazon.

Obviously I don’t expect it to be a major hit so I’ll charge the bare minimum and by the end of it I will have learned about getting a book out there and maybe increase a little bit of traffic to this fine website.

So check out those writing prompts and let me know what you think.

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Things that Really Frost My Ass – Uncle Hardass Continues to Run for President

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E Pluribus Hardass

Hello degenerate 3.5 readers.

We meet again and I see you’re all still working on those writing careers.

In fact my incompetent nephew Bookshelf Q. Battler just informed me that November is “National Novel Writing Month” or “NaNoWriMo.”

You know what I call it? “LosersFindAnotherWayToNotWorkMo.”

Get a job, 3.5 readers. You people are an embarrassment to all 7 of your parents.

Moving on, the big presidential election is Tuesday, November 8.

You all laughed at me when I announced my bid earlier this year.

But now after you got to know the two frontrunners, suddenly old Uncle Hardass doesn’t seem like such a bad option, does he?

Sure, I’m old and I’ve never worked anywhere but the Salt Mines (which you should apply to) but I’ve never grabbed anyone by the pussy, that’s for damn sure.

Not only is that rude but it is also highly unsanitary.  I’ll have you know my ex-wife, BQB’s Aunt Gertie, tried to get me touch her there all throughout our many years of marital bliss and my response was always, “No dice!  Do you have any idea how many germs are on that thing?!”

Also, I’ve never had an e-mail scandal because I don’t e-mail, or use phones.  Whenever I want someone to know something, I just should at them very loudly and wherever they are in the world, they hear it.  I call it Uncle Hardass mail.

I don’t write crazy tweets because I think anyone who uses social media is an asshole, and that goes double for my lazy nephew, who you should not follow on Twitter – @bookshelfbattle

Seriously. Don’t follow him. You’ll just encourage him to keep this useless blog going and then he’ll never get a job at the salt mines.

Where was I?  Oh right. Comparing myself to the candidates. Also, I don’t engage in pay for play or take big donations in exchange for favors.

That’s not because I don’t want the money but because I don’t do shit for anyone.

That’s right.  Whatever you want done, you should do it yourself.  Sure, I could do all your shit for you but then what would you learn? What would you get for it?

When I was a kid if I wanted a road I had to build a road.

If I wanted to go to school I had to build the school then teach myself.

If someone needed to be arrested I just arrested them.

If another country declared war, I had to fight the war single handed. I personally fought and won 29 wars all by myself and I’m damn proud of it.

So no, I’m not going to take your money to do a political favor for you.  You keep your money and you get off your lazy ass and do whatever it is that needs doing.

Oh. BQB’s meddling attorney just handed me an envelope. “This blog is in no way encouraging people to undertake any kinds of official actions that they do not have the authority to do.”

For crying out loud. Ban all the lawyers! That’ll be the first thing I’ll do when I’m elected and then after that I’ll take a nap for a year.

In summation, here are more reasons why you should vote for me, Uncle Hardass, this Tuesday, November 8.

  • I’m younger than both candidates.  You wouldn’t think so but both are very, very, very old.
  • I’m going to be championing a new jobs initiative entitled, “Jobs! You Should Get One, You Lazy Son of a Bitch.” No need to create any new laws or organizations or programs to get people jobs. I am just going to go on TV once a week and nag all of you unemployed people about how awful you are for not having jobs and then surely all those people will do anything to get a job rather than be around to listen to me on TV, because my speech will be on every channel.
  • I will forego all wars and challenge opposing world leaders to an arm wrestling match instead.  Before you scoff, just keep in mind it gets kind of lonely for an old man, so I’ve been known to keep myself busy by shaking hands with the old bishop, often for hours at a time because honestly, at this point its just like pulling taffy.  Like it sort of wants to do something but not really.

Thank you, degenerate lazy 3.5 readers.

In conclusion of my summation, your writing ambitions are a waste of time and utterly pointless and also do something useful for a change and vote for me, Uncle Hardass.

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Remember the Zombamo – Chapter 10

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“What in the hell are you on about, Wright?”

Wright slid off a pair of black leather gloves as he stepped forward.

“It has been brought to my attention that you have disgraced yourself sir,” Wright said with an air of sophistication.

“Is that so?” Bowie asked.

“It is, sir,” Wright said as he pounded the floor with the end of his cane. “You have been spreading a most scandalous fabrication that has proven to be quite injurious to my character.”

“You’ll have to dumb it down for me, sheriff,” Bowie said. “I don’t speak fop.”

“Did you or did you not state a claim to a collaboration of ruffians that I stole the election?” Wright asked.

“I did,” Bowie replied.

Wright raised his cane in the air. “Aha! So you do not deny that you have slandered me, do you sir?”

“I do deny it,” Bowie said.

“Speak plainly, man,” Wright said. “How can you admit and deny the same offense?”

“I admit that I told a few of my drinking buddies that you stole the election,” Bowie said. “I deny that I slandered you because the truth is not slander.”

Wright gasped. “How dare you sir? You slander me again!”

“Well,” Bowie said. “If the shoe fits…”

The knifeman walked to the bar and ordered a whisky. Wright followed him.

“And now you turn your back on me!”

“What?” Bowie asked as he accepted a full shot glass from Brent. “I thought we were done.”

“Not by a long shot,” Wright said. “Until you publicly retract your villainous lie, this matter will not be put to rest.”

Bowie gulped his shot. “Wright, I personally witnessed those Blanchard boys you got in your back pocket stuffing those ballot boxes with more paper than Tavish’s sister shoves in her brassiere.”

Tavish shook his head up and down, then burped. “It’s true. Old Maude is flatter than a carving board.”

“Look, Wright,” Bowie said. “Everyone knows that the political game is like a hyena’s dick. They’re both crooked and they’re both ugly. I didn’t tell anyone anything they didn’t already know so untwist your knickers, quit your bellyaching, and get out of my face.”

Bowie turned his back on Wright once more, but Wright refused to be ignored. He tapped on Bowie’s shoulder.

The knifeman turned only to be slapped in the face by a pair of gloves.

“I challenge you to a duel, sir!”

Bowie was quiet. Everyone in the bar was quiet.

When Bowie laughed, everyone took it as a cue to join in.

“I never figured you for a comedian, Wright,” Bowie said as he pointed a finger at the sheriff. “That’s a good one.”

Wap! Wright slapped Bowie in the face with his gloves a second time and in so doing, knocked the smile right off of Bowie’s face.

“That’s a good way to get yourself gutted from stem to stern, Wright,” Bowie said.

“Satisfaction will be mine!” Wright shouted.

“You’d be so easy to kill it wouldn’t be a fair fight,” Bowie said.

“And you are making excuses for your cowardice, sir!”

Bowie’s nostrils flared. He took a deep breath, then turned his back on Wright again.

“Well then,” Wright said as he drew his pistol. “If you are not man enough to face me then you leave me no choice.”

Bang!

Wright was known throughout Rapides Parish for being a horrendous shot. The bullet grazed Bowie’s shoulder, cutting a slight rut through the skin of the knifeman’s arm before it landed dead center in Tavish’s chest.

The drunk shouted several choice obscene phrases before falling off his stool. On the floor, he convulsed, then died.

Bowie wasted no time. He grabbed Wright’s arm and shoved him up against a wall. Wright closed his eyes as he felt the cold edge of a knife being held up against his throat.

“You think that does a damn thing for your honor?” Bowie asked. “You try to shoot a man in the back only to murder a useless old lecher instead?”

“This is all your doing, Bowie!” Wright said. “You are the one who refused to face me. That man’s death is on your hands!”

“Shit,” Bowie said. “And I was just starting to like that old coot.”

Brent interrupted. “You just held a knife on him a moment ago.”

“He was starting to grow on me,” Bowie said.

Bang!

Bowie looked to his left. Brent had walked over from the bar and was holding a rifle.

“Jim,” Brent said. “I don’t mean to tell you how to do your business but one dead body in my bar is too many.”

Bowie and Wright stared into each others’ eyes. Wright saw Bowie’s rage. Bowie saw Wright’s fear.

“And I’m no lawyer but you slitting the throat of a lawman who just fired the only shot in his pistol seems like it will end with you swinging at the end of a noose if you ask me.”

“No one asked you, Brent.”

Bowie leered at his hostage a bit longer, then released him.

“Wright, I accept your challenge.”

Wright coughed and clutched at his throat just to make sure it was still there. He then straightened up, dusted himself off, gripped the lapels of his jacket and turned up his nose at the knifeman.

“Pistols at dawn, sir.” Wright said. “Acquire your second and we shall meet at the sandbar.”

“Yes we will,” Bowie said.

Wright stormed off for the door.

“And Wright?”

The sheriff stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Do not miss,” Bowie said. “Because if you do, I assure you, my knife will not.”

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NaNoWriMo 2016

Halloween is over, 3.5 readers.

I know. It is such a fun time for the Bookshelf Battle Blog.

But Count Krakovich and Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian must retire to their respective lairs.

November 1. It is now National Novel Writing Month.

Are you participating?

Feel free to tell your resident nerd all about it.

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