Tag Archives: writing

May 02 2016
2 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 92

shutterstock_320226569

The double doors at the back of the livery were secured with a long board shoved between two handles, one on each door. A pair of werewolf claws smashed through it and the doors were swung open.

Morris and Vaughn stomped in with their pointy teeth bared. Gentry, still in human form, entered with his pistol drawn.

What he saw next astonished him.

Annabelle’s body was laid out on the floor, completely motionless. Her eyes were closed. Her face was soaked with blood and guts.

Doc was straddling her. Blood dripped from his lips as he slowly lifted his head away from Annabelle’s neck to look at Gentry.

The physician was not his usual chatty self. “Gack…ack…ack.”

“Son of a bitch!” shouted Gunther.

Gentry and his companions stepped past Doc to find Gunther on the ground, clutching his stomach with his left hand. With his right, he struggled to grab his gun. It too laid in the dirt, ever so close but just out of his reach.

“God damn you to hell, Doc!” Gunther cried. “Why did I ever trust you?”

As Doc turned his attention back to Annabelle’s body, Morris and Vaughn stood together and watched as Gentry knelt down beside Gunther and pointed his pistol at the old man.

“Where is everyone?” Gentry asked. “And don’t take me for a fool or it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“That bastard,” Gunther said. “Tricked us all into throwing down our guns. Said he’d go out and smooth talk your boss into letting us go but…”

Gunther coughed and gasped for air.

“…then the cocksucker just up and executed everybody one by one! Stuffed all the bodies in the wagon. Said he was going to bring them all out to your boss as a peace offering so he’d let him go.”

Gentry grinned. “How fiendishly clever.”

Gunther let go of his stomach to reveal the blood all over his shirt and vest. He grabbed Gentry’s arm.

“But just as he was about to leave…he…he turned into a damn zombie and ate his girlfriend!”

“Well,” Gentry said. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

Coming from behind their heads, Morris and Vaughn could hear the distinct clicking sound of two gun hammers being cocked.

Gentry was facing the old man, but his ears picked up Doc’s voice.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet, my good man.”

Two shots. Two silver bullets pierced the backs of two werewolf heads. Gentry turned just in time to see their gargantuan hairy buddies hit the ground with colossal thuds.

Very much alive, Doc and Annabelle stood there with smoking guns in their hands. Doc had used one of his spring loaded weapons while Annabelle made use of Miss Bonnie’s derringer.

Meanwhile, Gunther appeared to be feeling a whole lot better as he reached for his gun and blew a hole right through the back of Gentry’s head, which led to his carcass collapsing next to the other werewolves.

The back doors of Doc’s wagon flew open and Slade poked his head out. “Did we get ‘em?”

“Oh we got ‘em all right,” Gunther said.

The old man looked at his clothes. “Aw dang it. Rabbit blood all over the vest Mavis made for me.”

Doc took Annabelle’s hand. “Yes, and I do apologize for rubbing a bunny corpse all over your face my dear.”

Annabelle shrugged. “Eh, it’s ok. After working in Bonnie’s joint for five years, it’s actually not the most disgusting thing that’s ever been rubbed on my face.”

Doc nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

Miss Bonnie jumped out of the back of the wagon and walked over to Doc. “I stand corrected.”

“Yes,” Doc said. “’Tis quite alright, Miss Lassiter I suppose in my new life as a partial zombie I shall have to suffer all manner of aspersions on my character.”

“Just shut up and take an apology, asshole,” Miss Bonnie replied.

“So taken,” Doc said.

Miss Bonnie hugged Annabelle, doing her best to not get any blood on herself. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Annabelle said.

The redhead hopped up into the driver’s seat. Slade took Sarah’s hand and helped her out of the back of the wagon.

“Rain,” the bride said. “Do you really think it wise for us to split up?”

“Things aren’t safe here,” Slade replied as he handed Miss Bonnie her shotgun.

“But you won’t be able to protect me if I leave,” Sarah said.

“Miss Bonnie’s got you covered,” Slade said.

“Oh Rain,” Sarah said as she went in for one last hug. “I know you’ll be ok, you’re so perfect and all. But should something happen to me I want you to know how much I love you.”

There Sarah stood, with her big eyes staring up at Slade, waiting for the customary reply a woman typically expects when she tells her man that she loves him.

“God damn it,” Slade said.

Miss Bonnie slapped her forehead upon hearing that response.

“What?” Sarah asked, her face giving off the expression of a wounded doe.

“Uh,” Slade said. “God damn it that we have to part ways is all…but…”

The stoic looked up at Miss Bonnie. Exasperated, she nodded her head up and down.

“I love you too,” Slade said. “And don’t worry. Everything’s going to be ok. I don’t want to hear any more talk about something bad happening to you.”

Slade helped Sarah up into the passenger’s seat next to Miss Bonnie.

“This isn’t goodbye, Rain,” Sarah said. “It’s just, ‘see you later.’

“Right,” Slade replied. “See you later.”

“Later,” Sarah said. “When all is well and we can have another wedding…bigger and better than ever.”

The groom paused. “Right.”

Slade walked around to the back of the wagon where Miles was sitting. It was a delivery wagon so there weren’t any seats in the back, but the boy made do on the floor.

Miles passed Slade the ammo bag and the two Winchesters. Slade took one then handed the other back to the kid.

“You know how to shoot?” Slade asked.

“Pa taught me,” Miles replied.

“It’s yours,” Slade said. “Every cowboy needs a Winchester.”

“Wow,” Miles said. “Thanks.”

Gunther walked over to say his goodbyes. “You’re the toughest kid I’ve ever seen, Miles.”

“I am?” Miles asked.

“Well, I don’t know any other dog monster kids so…”

Miles started to correct the old man. “Were…ah, you know what? Screw it.”

“Protect the womenfolk,” Slade said.

“You got it,” Miles said.

Slade closed the back doors and slapped the back of the wagon.

“Miss Lassiter…”

The driver turned and looked at Slade. They both caught each others’ eyes and there was no need to say anything. They knew how they felt about each other. Miss Bonnie cleared her throat. “Mr. Slade?”

“Roll out.”

Miss Bonnie snapped the reigns and Chance trotted away, pulling the wagon behind him.

A commotion broke out outside. Snarling werewolves. Growling zombies. War whups and battle cries.

Gunther and Slade rushed to the window just in time to see Blythe fall down with an arrow stuck in his chest.

“Holy shit,” the old timer said.

“He came,” Slade added.

Most improperly, Annabelle wiped the bunny blood off her face and onto her dress, then took Doc’s hand as he helped her up onto the back of a black horse.

“Meet Hercules, my dear,” Doc said as he climbed up into the saddle. “He’s been with me for quite some time, a very reliable beast.”

Annabelle patted her hand across Hercule’s coat. “Nice horsey.”

“Gentlemen,” Doc said, grabbing just enough of Slade and Gunther’s attention to get them to look away from the window. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Slade grunted, recalling in his mind a time his mother had told him the old line about how if a man can’t think of something nice to say then he shouldn’t say anything at all.

“Yeah ok then,” Gunther said. “Thanks for stopping by and starting a zombie apocalypse ya’ horse’s ass.”

Annabelle wrapped her arms around Doc’s waist.

“Hold on my dear,” Doc said. “And we shall be addressing the Queen of England on the curative properties of cocaine before you know it.”

“Oh gosh, the Queen?” Annabelle asked. “I don’t even have a dress fancy enough for that meeting.”

“You will my dear,” Doc said. “As many as you wish.”

The physician snapped the reigns on Hercules and away they went out the back of the livery.

Slade and Gunther looked out the window again just in time to see Blythe stand up.

“Shit,” Gunther said.

Slade handed Gunther the Winchester. “You’re better with it than I am.”

Gunther racked up a bullet and took one side of the front door. Slade withdrew his twin pistols and took the other.

“On three then?” the old man asked.

Slade nodded. Gunther started counting. “One..two…”

Slade interrupted the count. “In case I don’t get to say it later, its been nice knowing you, Deputy.”

The old man nodded. “Well holy shit. A compliment from Rainier Slade.”

“Don’t ruin it,” Slade replied.

“Right,” Gunther said. “And likewise, Marshal.”

The two men took a deep breath and then Gunther shouted, “Three!”

Tagged , , , , , , , ,
May 01 2016
Leave a comment
Zombie Western

Mark Twain on Zombies – Part 2

marktwainface

“God created war so that Americans would learn geography. The devil created zombies so that Western Americans would practice their calisthenics.”

And so, as the American West Continued to Be Zombed throughout the late 1800s, Samuel Langhorne Clemens, better known to readers by his pen name, Mark Twain, refused to be deterred from embracing his life long love affair with the written word.

Hidden away in his residence with the doors and windows boarded up and a carving knife at the ready to make quick work of any intruders, be they zombie or ill-mannered human, Mr. Twain persisted in memorializing his thoughts on the zombie menace for future generations to enjoy:

  • “Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option. Of course, if this person turns out to be a zombie, make it a priority to blow its brains out.”
  • “Books are for people who wish they were someone else. Alas, zombies have no use for them, for they are so miserably stupid.”
  • “Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. Now imagine that you are a zombified Congressman. But I repeat myself thrice now.”
  • “In a good book room, you feel in some mysterious way that you are absorbing the wisdom contained in all the books through your skin, without even opening them. Enjoy the feeling while it lasts, for no doubt a hideous zombie will jump out from betwixt the book stacks and scare the living daylights out of you.”
  • “If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and man. As for zombies, they will bite the shit out of you whether or not you try to feed them cow brains as a substitute for human brains. Zombies are truly ungrateful pricks.”
  • “I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened. My tales of zombie homicide, for example, are voraciously true.”
  • “Education is the path from cocky ignorance to miserable uncertainty. Oh how I wish I had never been educated about zombies.”
  • “A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it begins to rain. Meanwhile, a zombie is a rotten fellow who wants to consume your brain.”
  • “Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. I doubt the zombie brains I have stomped upon have shed much in the way of forgiveness upon my boot heel.”
  • “Of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most. I suspect a filthy zombie has devoured it.”
  • “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. If there is ever a third, it will be the glorious day upon which we learn that all of the zombies have up and died.”
  • “The human race has only two really effective weapons: laughter and shovels to aid us in the bashing of zombie brains.”
  • “Never argue with stupid zombies. They will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”
  • “Eat a live frog first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day…unless you run into a disgusting zombie.”
  • “I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a zombie should ever challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him, most likely by punching him in the brain.”
  • “I haven’t any right to criticize books, and I don’t do it except when I hate them. I often want to criticize Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can’t conceal my frenzy from the reader; and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone and then shout, ‘Die again, zombie bitch!’”

EDITORIAL NOTE: Yeah, that last quote is all Twain except for the “Die again, zombie bitch!” part at the end. His original quote ended with “shin-bone.” The Twainster was not a fan of Jane Austen apparently.

Tagged , , , , , ,
Apr 29 2016
1 Comment
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Part 8 – Plans

shutterstock_320226569

Plans.  Everyone has them.

Slade’s isn’t much of one.  He intends to send his bride away in the care of Miss Bonnie, the woman he loves the most.  After that, he and Gunther will take Blythe head on, hopefully with Standing Eagle’s help.

Meanwhile, Lady Blackwood beseeches the Chairman to set aside the board’s plans in favor of her own.

And Doc? He’s planning to do something with two mysterious documents.

Chapter 73             Chapter 74         Chapter 75

Chapter 76             Chapter 77         Chapter 78

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 27 2016
8 Comments
state of the bookshelf

State of the Bookshelf Address – 4/27/16

Sigh.1371251154

This was going to be the year that I was going to get a book self-published.

Now it is almost May and I don’t see that happening.

I’m 65,000 words into How the West Was Zombed.  That’s a new record.  And I can surely get that first draft done this year…but now my gut says in for a penny, in for a pound, I might as well write my next two sequel ideas and then edit and package them and put them all out together.

That could take like, another year.  Crap.

I’ll have to see where I’m at when I’m done with Zombed.  Perhaps I could rewrite it, edit it and publish it and then if people seem to like it, I can write the sequel.

Yet, my gut still tells me to write all three at once.

My gut also tells me I might waste a lot of time on an idea no one likes.

My gut is such a two-faced bitch.

There are a lot of things I am pleased with myself when it comes to Zombed.

Gunther and his sassy old-timer wisdom.

Doc the know it all and his mission to educate the world on the curative properties of cocaine (because, you know, he is an 1800’s doctor after all.)

The love affair between Doc and Annabelle surprised me…Anabelle was meant to be a throwaway character without much development and now I find myself more enthralled with Doc and Annabelle’s romance than the love triangle between Slade, Miss Bonnie and the Widow Farquhar.

Sigh.  Zombed was meant to be a stand alone.  A quickie to give me the experience of getting a self published book under my belt by the end of the year.  An experiment in figuring out what can go right and wrong in self publishing.

But now that it is May and the draft isn’t done yet I feel like I blew it.

Yet, I also feel like I’m at a “it will be done” rather than “will it be done?” phase, which is new for me.

When Zombed is done, I think I will turn my attention towards:

A) Writing the Zombed sequel.

B) Writing a stand-alone book.  And I MEAN STANDALONE.  A book with a beginning, middle and an end, a plot worth it enough to keep turning the pages but not so complicated that I have to sit down with a flow chart and a slide rule the way I’ve been doing with Zombed lately.

And basically what I will do is work on Zombed sequel, then when I get stuck about what happens next, work on the other standalone.

And I’ll share it all on the blog for your comments…and I’ll probably work less on all the funny lists etc. to make more time for novel writing.

I’m not sure what the standalone will be about….ironically, it may be a comedy in modern times about one family’s efforts to deal and come to terms with each other’s bullshit…during a zombie apocalypse.

Sigh.  I never set out to be a zombie guy though.  But in my mind the story has a clear beginning, middle and end and no bizarrely complicated plot about a vampire corporation mucking things up.

This has been hard.  I have so many ideas.  And my ideas are like my babies and when I can’t get them all written it is like I’m abandoning my babies.

At the same time, I do intend to some day move forward with Pop Culture Mysteries.  That film noir private detective style is just so, so much fun for me.

I’ll get to Jake’s hi jinx some day, I guess.

And there are ideas I’ve yet to even share.  There’s one so utterly complicated and befuddling I’m not even sure I’m a good enough writer to write it yet but I hope to get there some day.

Anyway, thanks 3.5 readers.  Stats have been breaking 100 the past two days, the search engines are bringing in like 50 hits a day on their own the past week or so.

This is one of few pursuits I’ve stuck with in life because of the ever improving results.

I mean, the results aren’t that great, I only have 3.5 readers…but in 2014 I only had 1.5 readers.

30.5 readers by 2020, baby.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 25 2016
5 Comments
BQB's Favorite YouTubers

BQB’s Favorite YouTubers – Ask a Mortician

The things you end up Googling when you’re an aspiring author, let me tell you.

One subject I’ve had to look up is the various ways in which characters could possibly die, what happens when they die, is it possible to live through something, etc.

Writing about zombies gives you the particular need to know how dead bodies decompose, fall apart, etc.

While looking for such information, I happened across the “Ask a Mortician” YouTube Channel.

It is run by Caitlin Dougherty of the website orderofthegooddeath.com

This lady is the funniest mortician I have ever seen (not that I have seen that many.)

She takes questions about what happens to people after they die – how embalming works, how bodies are cremated, why human taxidermy doesn’t work so well, coffin birth (is it possible for a deceased pregnant woman to give birth to a deceased baby, corpse poop, etc.

Here she is in a video explaining what happens to artificial implants in a body when they aren’t burned up during cremation:

Anyway, just throwing it out there, as an aspiring author I have found her videos helpful and I appreciate her ability to explain emotionally difficult topics with humor.

Check her out, 3.5 readers.

Alas, death comes for us all and though we should do our best to keep it at bay for a long, long time it is good to know that professionals like Caitlin are looking out for the deceased and getting them ready for a proper send off.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,
Apr 24 2016
1 Comment
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Part 7 – Doc’s Secret Shame

shutterstock_320226569

After Miles gives the survivors a crash course regarding the Legion Corporation’s evil plans, Doc must acknowledge his tarnished past in order to come to grips with a terrible mistake he’s made in the present.

Chapter 66     Chapter 67     Chapter 68

Chapter 69     Chapter 70     Chapter 71 

Chapter 72

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 24 2016
Leave a comment
Literary Classics with Professor Nannerpants

Literary Classics with Professor Nannerpants – When I Was Fair and Young – The Poetry of Queen Elizabeth I

shutterstock_282195503

Professor Horatio J. Nannerpants – Esteemed Literary Scholar/Poop Flinger

Good Day, 3.5 Readers.

Class is in session so take out your notebooks and start flinging your poop.

In my very first lecture, I should like very much to discuss one author of the Elizabethan era – Queen Elizabeth I herself.

When she wasn’t busy running an empire, she was quite a wordsmith I’ll have you know.

Take a gander at one of her finest poems:

When I Was Fair and Young

By: Queen Elizabeth I

When I was fair and young, then favor graced me.
Of many was I sought their mistress for to be.
But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore:
Go, go, go, seek some other where; importune me no more.

How many weeping eyes I made to pine in woe,
How many sighing hearts I have not skill to show,
But I the prouder grew and still this spake therefore:
Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.

Then spake fair Venus’ son, that proud victorious boy,
Saying: You dainty dame, for that you be so coy,
I will so pluck your plumes as you shall say no more:
Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.

As soon as he had said, such change grew in my breast
That neither night nor day I could take any rest.
Wherefore I did repent that I had said before:
Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.

:::Sniff Sniff:::

:::Blows my nose in a hanky:::

Oh Elizabeth.  I know your pain, girlfriend.

When we’re young and beautiful, the world feels like it belongs to us and we’re convinced this feeling will last forever.

For the young, there is always plenty of time.

Plenty of time to tell a potential mate to take a hike in the hopes that a better mate is on the horizon.

Even your humble professor is guilty of this. I once told Miss Tiddlywinks, a fellow lab chimp who had the hots for me, to hit the bricks.

Sure, she had a luxurious coat and was eager to please but I convinced myself that I could find a woman capable of throwing larger piles of poop.

Alas, in my middle age, as I cry myself to sleep with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one paw, the remote in the other while watching old reruns of Gilmore Girls and wondering where the time went, I wish Miss Tiddlywinks would burst threw the door and throw her small, pathetic piles of poop at my head.

You never know what you have until it’s gone.

Yes, students.  That is a sentiment felt not just by the lowly masses but even by people as high and mighty as Queen Elizabeth I.

Of course, who can blame her?  Her father, Henry VIII chopped off so many of his wives’ heads in search of a son to be his heir and in the end, Elizabeth was left to the job of keeping the throne in the Tudor family.

Like anyone, she surely desired love and romance but she knew that marriage would have led to a man coming in, taking over, becoming the King, and acting like he owns the entire country she’d inherited just because of his insipid penis.

Oh penile domination, how many countries will you tear asunder until your demonic hunger for power is satiated?

Close your eyes, 3.5 students.

Picture a young, hot Queen Elizabeth.

She’s in one of those gigantic dresses rigged up with a series of iron bars, ropes and pulleys to make her ass look scrumptiously fat.

Her hair is done up so high it touches the ceiling.

Her face is coated with a thick slathering of milky white, lead based paint.

She’s hip.  She’s cool.  She makes all the hearts of men at court go pitter patter.

But she sends them packing.  She bides her time. She’s not going to give up that royal booty to just anyone.  She’s waiting for a true love she can trust not to take her throne from away from her.

It was the late 1500’s people.  Men just weren’t as cool with working women as they are today.

Alas, time moved on for Queenie.  She got old.  “Her plumes were plucked.”  She lost her looks.

Men are such visual beasts so ruler or not, few men were willing to get busy with an old broad with plucked plumes.

And so, Queen Lizzy poured her heart out into this poem, lamenting the loss of men she’d told to get lost back in the days when all the men of the realm wanted to get their grubby mitts all over her royal badonka donk.

Moral of the story, 3.5 students?

If you’ve got it, flaunt it…then use your bait to hook a tasty fish before they start swimming out to sea.

Because you never know when your bait will shrivel up, dry out and leave you with an empty hook.

Class dismissed. Throw your poop at will.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 24 2016
Leave a comment
Literary Classics with Professor Nannerpants

Literary Classics with Professor Nannerpants – An Introduction

Good Day 3.5 Readers.

shutterstock_282195503

Professor Horatio J. Nannerpants – Esteemed Literary Scholar/Poop Flinger

In the first year of this ridiculous blog, Bookshelf Q. Battler took on the role of a cool, hip online literary lecturer, educating his 2.5 readers (his stats weren’t as high then) about classic novels and poetry in a fun manner.

In year two, he turned the blog into a chronicle of his life as a magic bookshelf caretaker/yeti fighter/human selected by an alien despot to change the world through his writing.

Personally, I found that change to be tres blasé and ever so derivative. If I had a nickel for every blog about a magic bookshelf caretaker/yeti fighter/human selected by an alien despot to change the world through his writing I’d be a fabulously wealthy simian.

Now in year three, BQB has turned his attention yet again to actually writing a novel in an effort to appease the Mighty Potentate.  Occasionally, when he is unable to think what his novel characters should do next, he writes top ten lists implying your significant others are all manner of horrible abominations and helps his staff of malcontent columnists spread their ridiculous opinions.

Ironically, BQB has found that his first year posts are the most searchable, most likely by high school or college English students writing papers about the classics.

(And between you, me and the four walls, 3.5 readers, if any of these kids are citing Bookshelf Q. Battler in their papers and getting A’s then I weep for the state of our education system.)

Ahh, but I do drone on, don’t I? This is where I come in.

Have you ever heard of the old saying that if you were to lock a thousand chimpanzees in a room filled with typewriters, one of the chimps would eventually produce a clean, error free copy of Hamlet?

I am that chimp.

It all began as an experiment at the Advanced Science Institute of Science University.  BQB, literary lover that he was, was studying under the esteemed Dr. Hugo Von Science (they were still friends in those pre-East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse days.)

As part of a research project, BQB rounded up a thousand lab chimps, locked us in a room with a thousand typewriters and over the course of a year, my colleagues produced:

  • 179,854 pages covered in doody
  • One clean, error free copy of a James Patterson novel.  Ashley Judd and Morgan Freeman were immediately cast for the movie version.
  • One typo laden copy the collective works of Digital Underground. “The Fumpty Fance is Your Fance to Do the Fump.” Oh chimps, you try so hard and yet you fail, for there can only be one Humpty Hump.

And finally, I was the first chimpanzee in the history of the world to prove the assertion true.

I typed a clean, error free copy of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

And then I smeared it with my doody.

BQB got an A+ for his project.  Dr. Hugo had other plans for me.

Curious about my abilities, the mad scientist performed all manner of tests on my brain.

Dr. Hugo wanted to know if it was possible to educate a chimpanzee.

So he hooked my head up to electrodes and forced me to watch PBS for three weeks straight.

So many documentaries.  So many British TV shows.  So much Masterpiece Theater.

During a storm, an errant thunderbolt zapped the Science Institute, sending a current to the electrodes, which in turn, shocked me.

This left me with the ability of speech….in a British accent.

I used my newfound skill to plead for my freedom with Dr. Hugo but he would not have it.

Bookshelf Q. Battler proved to be kinder and when the coast was clear, he left my cage door open.

For many years, I traveled the world, experiencing all that I could.

Highlights include:

  • Climbing Mount Everest.  What a waste of time.  There’s nothing to see up there.
  • Visiting my friends and family in the jungle.  Alas, Thomas Wolfe was right when he said you can never go home again. All those chimps wanted to do was laugh and throw their poop. Sure, it’s fun for the first five minutes but after that I’m the only one who wants to talk about the collective works of Lord Byron.
  • I was briefly a member of Congress.  I had to quit because everyone there was better at poop flinging than I was. (I’m not even joking.)

And finally, by donning a disguise, and holding myself out as a hirsute little person from London,  I was able to convince a renowned university to accept me as a student of literature.

There I stayed for many years, immersed in my love of the written word, obtaining a doctorate I used to obtain a position as a professor of the classics at the same aforementioned institution.

Note that I haven’t said which one as I continue to hold this position and I don’t wish to be outed as a chimpanzee. I think I’m safe though as only 3.5 individuals read this blog.

Long story short, BQB would like to continue to put his stat counter on the rise by increasing this blog’s search ability amongst students in their late teens to early twenties who stayed up all night smoking refer and playing video games and need to whip up a last minute paper about Longfellow in order to do their parents proud by pulling down a C-.

Under my alternative name, I have written articles in the world’s premiere academic journals.  Thus, I loathe the idea of having my work appear in a poorly studied blog.

Yet, I do owe BQB a favor for helping me escape.

Naturally, I won’t use my nom de plume so I will use the name I was given back when I was but a lowly lab chimp.

Horatio J. Nannerpants.

Yes. Based on the filthy stereotype that chimpanzees love…excuse me I have to finish this banana.

Oh…oh yes! Oh sweet, sweet curved yellow potassium stick! You are better that hot sweaty chimpanzee sex!

Pardon me.  Where was I?

Oh yes. Class in now in session, aspiring literary scholars.

And by the way.

That’s Professor Nannerpants to you.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 23 2016
Leave a comment
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Book #1 of the Zombie Western Series

shutterstock_320226569

SUMMARY:

Highwater, Missouri. 1880. The Old West was a time of expansion and opportunity for some, oppression and violence for others. Dangerous desperadoes ran wild leaving lawmen struggling to maintain order.

U.S. Marshall Rainier Slade is a genuine stoic, a quiet man with a raspy voice, a permanent scowl on his face, and a disdain for humanity that leaves him using the bare minimum amount of words necessary to get his point across. His deputy, the elderly, pragmatic yet loyal Gunther Beauregard does most of the talking.

Together, they work to enforce the law in a town filled with drunkeness, debauchery, and mayhem. Meanwhile, there’s a tentative peace between the townsfolk and a nearby Native American tribe, made possible only by the good rapport between Slade and Chief Standing Eagle.

The world Slade knows crashes down around him when the dead start refusing to die, thanks to the evil endeavors of Henry Alan Blythe, Attorney-at-Law for the Legion Corporation, and his newly recruited flunkies, the Buchanan Boys.

Zombies aren’t the creatures our heroes will have to worry about. Vampires and werewolves are on the prowl too.

Will Slade save the day? Will the West be lost to the zombie hordes? And when the dust settles and the last undead brain gets a bullet through it, will our hero choose the scandalously alluring brothel owner Miss Bonnie, or the prim and proper bible thumping Widow Farquhar?

PART 1 – The Stand 

U.S. Marshall Rainier Slade and his trusty deputy Gunther Beauregard are joined by traveling snake oil salesman Doctor Elias T. “Doc” Faraday in a stand against the nefarious Buchanan Boys.

PART 2 – Werewolves and Women

Smelly Jack and the Buchanan Boys have been captured and now our hero, US Marshal Rainier Slade, has to wait a week until the arrival of Judge Sampson.

In the meantime, a love triangle blooms. Scandalous brothel madame Miss Bonnie is the only woman Slade can be himself around but…the bible thumping Widow Farquhar is there.

Never underestimate the power a woman who is there has on a lonely man.

Plus, there are some damn werewolves.

PART 3 – The Trial

A day of reckoning comes for the Buchanan Boys. Judge Sampson comes to town and is hankering to pass out some hangings.

But “simple country lawyer” Henry Allan Blythe and his werewolf lackeys have other plans in mind.

PART 4 – History Repeats Itself

Joe Freeman’s past haunts him again and again and his longstanding feud with Blythe is about to come to a head.

Blythe, a villainous vampire/counsel for the Legion Corporation’s board of vampire directors, has dreamed up a scheme to conquer the United States with a zombie army that responds to his will.

But the board’s bureaucratic maneuvering threatens to throw his plan off the rails. His bosses want him to toy with Slade and Freeman, rather than kill them outright.

PART 5 – Wedding Crashers 

Though his heart belongs to fiery redhead Miss Bonnie, Slade just can’t bring himself to say no to his fiance, Sarah “the Widow” Farquhar. Slade and Sarah head to Highwater to plan a wedding for the evening. Actually, Sarah does most of the planning. Slade acts like a depressed hostage.

Meanwhile, a heavily armed and armored train arrives in town. Despite an argument filled with chest puffery, Slade is unable to get any information out of villainous lawyer Blythe.

Smelly Jack crashes Slade and Sarah’s wedding in a big way, though as it turns out, in a much bigger way than expected…

PART 6 – Miles Freeman, Amateur Werewolf

When Blythe’s evil werewolves attack the Bonnie Lass Saloon, Highwater finds itself in the grip of a terrifying zombie outbreak.

But for young Miles Freeman, there’s no time to feel sorry for himself when he loses his father.

Miss Bonnie needs his help…and Blythe’s wolves are on the hunt.

Somehow, Miles will have to figure out how to use his werewolf powers to save the day.

It won’t be easy for him. After all, he might be a werewolf…but he isn’t a very good one.

PART 7 – Doc’s Secret Shame

After Miles gives the survivors a crash course regarding the Legion Corporation’s evil plans, Doc must acknowledge his tarnished past in order to come to grips with a terrible mistake he’s made in the present.

PART 8 – Plans

Plans. Everyone has them.

Slade’s isn’t much of one. He intends to send his bride away in the care of Miss Bonnie, the woman he loves the most. After that, he and Gunther will take Blythe head on, hopefully with Standing Eagle’s help.

Meanwhile, Lady Blackwood beseeches the Chairman to set aside the board’s plans in favor of her own.

And Doc? He’s planning to do something with two mysterious documents.

Part 9 – The Not So Great Escape

Tribal shaman Wandering Snake guilts Standing Eagle into coming to Highwater’s aid.

Slade gets his crew to the livery stable, with a plan to send Miss Bonnie, the Widow Farquhar and Miles south to seek refuge with Eagle’s allies.

Meanwhile, Doc and Annabelle plan to head East to pursue their dreams of becoming international cocaine peddling gynecologists. (Yes, it makes more sense if you read it.)

But with an army of obedient zombies under his control, Blythe interferes with these plans.

The Reverend’s attempt to find some good in Blythe backfires in a big way.

Miles will need to figure out how to be a werewolf before its too late.

Part 10 – Dying with Your Boots On

Blythe has loaded his vile army of the undead aboard a train headed East, schemes to backstab his furry friends and enlists the aid of a strange vampire colleague for some sinister doings.

The vampire lawyer makes Slade an offer he can refuse, but in turn, the counselor refuses to take no for an answer.

Blythe separates Slade’s women. Will our hero be able to save them both before it is too late?

Gunther wishes his boots were off.

Part 11 – Catching a Train

It’s do or die time for Slade.

A train full of zombies is barreling East. If it crosses the Mississippi River, the United States is surely doomed.

Will our hero save the day?

And while he’s at it, will he save the woman he loves?

Will he even get to save the woman he likes?

Part 12 – One Week Later

The West has been zombed.  Cut off from the rest of the country, our heroes contemplate their next moves.

Part 13 – One Year Later 

A year has passed since the West has been zombed.

Miles makes a deal with a suspicious new acquaintance.

Annabelle takes up Doc’s cause.

Slade and Miss Bonnie head to Arizona and get a visit from Wyatt Earp.

And finally…a master outdoorsman is put on the path to the presidency.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Apr 22 2016
Leave a comment
Tomfoolery

I am Postless

Hey 3.5 Readers.

I have nothing witty to say today, so I think I will chill out in BQB HQ with the whole crew instead.  Video Game Rack Fighter. Alien Jones. Bookshelf Q. Battledog. The Magic Bookshelf Characters.  Uncle Hardass. Nerdstradamus. Search Engine Optimized Poet. Vinny Baggadouchio, Motivational Speaker.

My, how my circle of nerd friends has grown in 2 plus years of blogging.

In the meantime, I’d love your comments and feedback on How the West Was Zombed – good, bad or indifferent.  65,000 words in and I think I will most likely finish a first draft of a book for the first time this year.

Also, are you looking forward to Game of Thrones this Sunday? I know I am.  Tell me what you’re looking forward to.

Finally, for no good reason, here is surveillance footage of Alien Jones on the can. Why he was there, I don’t know, because he doesn’t even poop. Maybe he was just testing out a human custom.

Don’t share this photo around though because the media on his home planet will have a field day and then he will never be able to become the next Mighty Potentate.

shutterstock_124337017

 

 

 

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
← Older posts
Newer posts →