Tag Archives: zombies

The Walking Dead – Season So Far

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.  I don’t have time for an in-depth review, but wanted to know what you all think about this season of “The Walking Dead” thus far.

I think it is one of the better seasons, I especially love the recent tension with Eugene.  I will say though the show has a tough decision.  The goal seems to be to kill Negan, the worst, most dastardly villain the show has ever seen and yet, he’s also the most interesting character the show has seen in a long time.

What say you, 3.5?

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Top Ten Ways to Pick Up Chicks During a Zombie Apocalypse

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It’s the end of the world…but that doesn’t mean it has to be the end of your love life.

Let’s face it.  Anyone could be eaten by a brain biting bastard any second.  So, I mean, even though you’re a total CHUD and weren’t able to pick up pussy with a handle in real life, you might be able to score with a chick during the end of days.  After all the fear of death around any corner is a total turn-on.

So, from BQB HQ in Fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Ways to Pick Up Chicks During a Zombie Apocalypse:

#10 – Tell her you are sorry her husband was eaten by a zombie.

Maybe you are actually sorry her husband was chomped.  Maybe you liked the guy.  Maybe you thought he was a dick and cheered the zombie on.  Maybe you were jealous that such a big doofus had such a hot wife, so you pushed the prick right in the way of those undead choppers.  Doesn’t matter.  She’s sad her man is dead, so be a gentleman, give he some condolences and wait at least until sundown before you make a move.  Any earlier than that is disrespectful to the dead, unless her husband became a zombie after he gotten bitten.  In that case, fuck that guy, because he’s a damn zombie now and he deserves no human pussy.

#9 – Lie About Your Heroic Feats

Your mother told you not to lie?  Oh, that’s adorable.  :::slaps you::: Bitch, get real!  The newspapers are out of business and no one’s keeping score, so feel free to embellish your resume.

NO – “I have been hiding in my closet with a baseball bat for three years, leaving occasionally to pee.”

YES – “I single handedly saved 100 orphans by fending off 1,000 zombies with nothing but a bottle opener and a toothpick.  I then taught the orphans kung fu and trained them into  a vicious zombie army and together, we kicked the heads off of 10,000 zombies.  I then found a town that was being abused by a cruel dictator.  So, I told him to leave or I kick his face off with a roundhouse kick.  He refused to leave, so I indeed removed his face with a kick.  All the women of the village were so turned on that they allowed me to impregnate them. In short, I kill at least 500 zombies a day before breakfast and I have saved the lives of 500,000 people.”

#8 – Share your rations.

Bitches love rations.

#7 – Pay women to spread rumors of your sexual prowess.

Women will often ignore a guy until they hear another woman wants him.  It’s called having stank on your hang-low.   So, just give some extra rations to some ladies and tell them there’s more where that came from if they tell every woman they meet about the hot time you had together.

#6 – Punch the biggest guy in the survivor camp in the face.

Chicks dig manliness.

#5 – Be fashionable.

Free shopping in all clothing stores.  There is no excuse for your tired ass look now.

#4 – Grow some shit.

It’s the zombie apocalypse, bitch.  Po-po has more to worry about than your herb garden.  Get yourself a green thumb and become a weed farmer.  Bitches love weed, especially during a zompoc.  Helps them get their minds off of potentially being eaten by zombies.

#3 – Get some ringer zombies.

Like, don’t take on some strong ass zombies who were weightlifters in their previous lives.  Get a couple of slow, fat zombies, turn them lose and karate chop their heads off.  All the babe will see is that you saved her ass and won’t realize that these were ringer zombies.  Never be too proud to fix a human vs. zombie fight.

#2 – Lie about your past.

Remember #9?  Guess what?  There are no fact checkers in the zombie apocalypse, so feel free to lie about your past too.

NO:  Baby, I was a jizz mopper at a gentlemen’s club.

YES:  Baby, I was a NAVY seal.  I killed 10,000 men with my pinky finger.

RULE OF THUMB:  Smarter the babe, the more realistic the lie.  If you’re a flabby fat fuck, a smart babe will not believe you were a NAVY seal.  But that’s OK.  You can just tell her you had your own Silicon Valley startup company and made a fortune.  Hell, promise her if the government and economy are ever restored, you’ll share some of your dough with her.  (Don’t worry.  People are lazy as fuck.  It’ll take like thousands of years for the government to be restored, so you’re in the clear.)

#1 – Don’t tell her if the government and economy are restored.

You’ve whisked her away to a secluded shack.  One day, she goes out in search of berries. Suddenly, there’s a power surge.  The TV and lights turn on.  A news anchor says all the zombies are dead and the world has been restored.

I mean, yeah, you could tell her that shit’s fine now so she can go back to her old boyfriend or…dude, please, you know I’ll lose all respect for you if you don’t rip that fuckin’ TV cord out of the wall, find the fuse box and turn all that shit off and tell her she better get her ass back here where it’s safe and don’t even think about looking for no berries again.  But be cool, just let her know it’s safe in that cabin, and only in that cabin, and you’ll protect her.

DISCLAIMER:  This was all just a joke.  You should be nice to women and considerate of their feelings and do not trick them and so forth. Don’t call them bitches and so on.  They are more than just their vaginas.  You should also be nice to women during a zombie apocalypse.  Share rations because you worry they are hungry, not because you think it might get you laid.  Be honest about your past (though she won’t, let’s be real) and if the zompoc ends…tell her…

…seriously, if the zombie apocalypse ends, tell her…within 5-7 days.  OK, fine, immediately.

 

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Bookshelf Battle Log #1 – 10/28/17 – Zom-bo-ween

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Happy Halloween weekend, 3.5 readers.

Oh what a holiday.  Started by Puritans to ward off evil spirits and now grown ass adults use it as an excuse to have as much cheap, meaningless sex as possible.  How times have changed.

Alas, I won’t be at BQB HQ this ‘Ween to pass out treats but fear not for there will be no tricks.  My trusty security chief, Bookshelf Q. Battle Dog, will be left behind to dispense treats and his own brand of canine philosophy to any little miscreants who happen to stop by.

What could get me out of my compound on my favorite holiday?  Zombies.  Yes!  Zombies.  It seems there has been a zombie invasion in Pittsburgh so the good people of this fair city got together and asked yours truly to save them.  Gotta say that is literally the one and only reason I’d ever actually visit Pittsburgh because, let me tell you, this place is the pits.

While I’m away, why don’t you read some of the fabulous interviews I conducted of zombie authors in October of 2015?  Yes, people with actual successful writing careers were willing to talk to me.  31 zombie authors to be exact, one a day for 31 days. Plus, you’ll find the journal I kept while East Randomtown was being ransacked by hideous brain chompers.

Remember, 3.5 readers, wear your helmets because this zombie hunter can’t be everywhere.  Protect your gray matter because without it, you won’t be able to think and more importantly, you won’t be able to read my blog or my book and, well, come to think of it, critics have called my work pretty brainless so…sure, I guess if you want to give up your brains to a hungry zombie, be my guest.  Who am I to stand in your way?  I just don’t advise it from a medical standpoint.  I mean, I’m no doctor but I just can’t help that physically losing your brains would be good for you.

I don’t do.  Don’t take my word for it.  Don’t take a zombie’s word for it easier because, you know, they’re biased.  Also, the only word they can say is, “BRAINS!”  Just do your research.

Check out those interviews here.

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Vote for Your Favorite Cover – How the West Was Zombed

Hey 3.5 readers.

How the West Was Zombed was my first finished book draft, the one that started it all.

Finally, I’m getting it a cover.

So, vote for your favorite.

https://99designs.com/contests/poll/e821zg

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Zom Fu – Chapter 64

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The members of the Clan of the Mediocre Yet Effective Club Bonk struggled on the palace steps to hold back the zombie invaders. Several of them had fallen victim to the Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite.

Junjie observed the carnage, then looked to the Staff of Ages. The ruby glowed red once more.

“The Staff of Ages has been freed of Dragonhand’s influence,” the Infallible Master said. “It belongs to its true master once again. Wield it freely and it will know exactly what you wish it to do.”

Junjie closed his eyes and raised the staff high into the air. Thunder claps sounded overhead. Multiple bolts of lightning tore through the sky and zapped their way into the staff, until the ancient device began to glow bright white.

Once more, the handsome hero pointed the staff toward the sky and a colossal lighting bolt of unfathomable size lit up the night sky. It pulsated in the heavens, dancing and flickering about until it separated into hundreds of smaller lighting bolts. Each bolt found a different zombie brain to pierce. Soon, every last brain biter in the Forbidden City was destroyed, while the remaining humans survived unscathed.

The clubbers cheered. Junjie cheered. “Master, I can’t believe that….Master?”

The Infallible Master was nowhere to be found, except in Junjie’s mind. “There is no more that I can teach you now, my son. It is time for you to become the master, and time for me to wile away many a year in Diyu.”

“Diyu?” Junjie asked out loud. Those in the handsome hero’s general vicinity might have thought the young man had gone mad had they not seen so many other frightening wonders that day. “I thought you said you would never be able to pass on to the other side.”

“A Master has his ways,” came the Infallible Master inside Junjie’s brain. “The older we get, the more realize what we once thought is impossible is, in fact, quite possible.”

“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Junjie said.

“Perhaps,” the Infallible Master said. “But the task of rebuilding the devastated kung fu clans is ahead of you now. The last thing you need to do is to worry about me.”

“Wait,” Junjie said. “Will I ever see you again?”

The master’s voice laughed. “Yes. It will seem like an eternity but remember, time is but a trick of the mind. We shall have our reunion one day, if not in the gloomy abyss of Diyu, then surely in the warm embrace of Heaven.”

“Can I talk to you?” Junjie asked.
The master’s voice laughed again. “Oh my son. I spent so much time with my master that I hear him even when he does not speak to me. You will see me and hear me in everything you do, regardless of whether or not we actually speak again.”

“That’s very cryptic,” Junjie said.

“Meh,” the Infallible Master said. “I am a kung fu master. It is what I do.”

“Goodbye, Master,” Junjie said.

“No,” the Infallible Master said. “Not goodbye. Never goodbye. I will see you later.”

A tear streamed down Junjie’s cheek. “I will see you later, Master.”

And with that, the voice inside Junjie’s head was gone.

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Zom Fu – Chapter 63

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Junjie looked to the Infallible Master. “There is no more Bohai, is there?”

“There is not,” the Infallible Master replied. “There is only Rage Dog. Do not make the same mistake I did.”

Rage Dog held up the squirmy bag. “To eat the last brain of an imperial dynasty, to obtain the knowledge that comes with countless generations of leadership…all of China will be mine.”

Junjie picked up one of the golden swords and pointed it at Bohai. “Release the Emperor, monster. Do so now and I will clap you in chains and lock you away where you can’t hurt anyone anymore. I will then spend the rest of my days searching for a cure, for some method of restoring Bohai’s soul to his former body.”

Rage Dog’s eyes traveled to his missing hand, then to the various holes and marks that permeated his body. “What makes you think Bohai would even want it now?”

“You are repeating my mistake, my son,” the Infallible Master warned. “No more negotiations. Finish him.”

Junjie studied Rage Dog’s face. “I know my brother is in there, somewhere…I just can’t…”

Thunk! The tip of General Tsang’s sword pierced its way through Rage Dog’s eyeball. The creature uttered a few last gaps then dropped the bag, only for it to be caught just in time by the general’s hand.

Rage Dog collapsed to the floor. He was no more. Once he was out of the way, the full figure of the general was revealed. The veteran warrior was soaked in the blood and brains of the many zombies he defeated out in the rain.

“You kung fu fighters are a sentimental lot, aren’t you?” General Tsang asked as he looked down at Rage Dog’s corpse. “Good think I didn’t know him that well.”

Ever so gently, the general placed the bag on the floor and opened it up. A very scared little boy popped out and attached himself to his protector like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.

“Tsang!”

“Yes, your majesty,” General Tsang said as he ran his hands through the boy’s hair. “Tsang is here now.”

“Come,” the Infallible Master said to Junjie. “There is more work outside.”

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And Now Zom Fu Returns…

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Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

Yeah, it’s unfortunate I ended up taking a little hiatus on Zom Fu.  Ironically, I did so right at the end.

When last we left our epic tale, Junjie had just defeated Dragonhand, the Master of the Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite.

It’s pretty much cleanup from now on, just the the final chapters where we learn what happens to our heroes after the story concludes.

Good news!  That means I should have another draft of a novel done within a month, perhaps sooner depending on how much time I can put into it.

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Mark Twain vs. Zombies – Vote for Your Favorite Cover

Yeah, so this happened.

Over the past year or so, I’ve been doing a running gag on this blog where I take Mark Twain quotes and add stuff about zombies to them…i.e. “When it comes to zombies, there are lies about zombies, damned lies about zombies and zombie statistics.”

I thought, hey, why not pack these all up and make a quick and easy quote book.

So I commissioned a cover contest thinking I can bang a quote book out really quick, but then after a a while, I began thinking about it, doing some Twain research, and I came up with a pretty sweet premise as to how Twain could have been a zombie hunter while he wasn’t busy writing.

So, downside, one more cover for a book I haven’t written yet.  But, oh well, I think my addiction is ok.  When I start giving hand jobs in the subway bathroom to pay for more book covers for books I haven’t written yet, then I will know I have a problem.

Vote for your favorite, 3.5 readers. 

 

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Mark Twain on Zombies – Part 5

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The Mississippi Rive will always have its own way; no engineering skill can persuade it to do otherwise.  Zombies are equally stubborn and foolhardy.  Only a ball peen hammer applied liberally to their rotting craniums can persuade them to do anything else but eat your brain.

In the beginning of a change the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned.  When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.  In like fashion, few men are made of the stern stuff necessary to attack a marauding zombie head on.  Instead, they cower in corners, concerned only with their personal safety.  Once a man of great bravery steps up and murders all impending zombies in the vicinity, then, and only then, will a sniveling reprobate remove himself from his corner of cowardice and boldly declare, “I supported zombie killing this entire time!”

None of us can have as many virtues as the fountain-pen, or half its cussedness; but we can try.  A fountain-pen can help a man translate his thoughts onto the page and also, it works well when plunged into the brain of a zombie.

Zeal and sincerity can carry a new religion further than any other missionary except fire and sword.  Fire and swords are also good weapons against filthy zombies.  I’ve always found that if a zombie won’t burn, it’s best to chop its vile head off with a sword.  Don’t forget to plunge the sword in the beast’s brain for good measure.

 

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Mark Twain on Zombies – Part 4

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Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.  Whenever you find yourself on the side of a zombie, it is time to jam a sharp object into its ear canal, as that is the quickest way to destroy its brain before it eats yours.

If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything…except to stay away from zombies.  Always remember to stay away from zombies.  Write a note that says, “STAY AWAY FROM ZOMBIES!” and pin it to your shirt collar if need be, but in any event, dear reader, do stay away from zombies.

I have never let my schooling about zombie anatomy interfere with my education of zombie slaying tactics.

Total abstinence is so excellent a thing that it cannot be carried to too great an extent.  In my passion for it I even carry it so far as to totally abstain from total abstinence itself.  Hell, sometimes the only way a man can come down off a high after spending a night’s worth of vigorous zombie fighting is to get all up in some Mississippi boo-tay.

What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light. It is doubtful that would even be effective as most likely this man would revert to the undead state of a wretched zombie.  Anniversaries are very well up to a certain point, while one’s babies are in the process of growing up: they are joy-flags that make gay the road and prove progress; and one looks down the fluttering rank with pride. Then presently one notices that the flagstaffs are in process of a mysterious change of some sort–change of shape. Yes, they are turning into milestones. They are marking something lost now, not gained. From that time on it were best to suppress taking notice of anniversaries, especially the anniversary of the first time you ever witnessed a close friend getting his brains devoured by a zombie.  No one needs to remember that shit.

To ask a doctor or builder or sculptor for his autograph would be in no way rude. To ask one of those for a specimen of his work, however, is quite another thing, and the request might be justifiably refused. It would never be fair to ask a doctor for one of his corpses to remember him by, seeing as how that corpse is likely to turn into a zombie, leaving you with no choice but to make an utter shambles of the doctor’s office when you bash the zombies brains in using little more than the closest blunt objects in your general vicinity.

I don’t like this thing of being stripped naked & washed. I like to be stripped & warmed at the stove–that is real bully–but I do despise this washing business. I believe it to be a gratuitous & unnecessary piece of meanness. I never see them wash the cat.  However, I wash myself anyway, for many medical doctors in good standing with the board of medicine have assured me that regular baths are the only way to rid one’s self of the various germs that can infect a man with a zombifying virus.  Wash your bum or become an abomination, as my old spinster aunt used to say, and she wasn’t kidding.

There’s nobody for me to attack in this matter even with soft and gentle ridicule–and I shouldn’t ever think of using a grown up weapon in this kind of a nursery. Above all, I couldn’t venture to attack the clergymen whom you mention, for I have their habits and live in the same glass house which they are occupying. I am always reading immoral books on the sly, and then selfishly trying to prevent other people from having the same wicked good time.  In summation, good readers, I can only assume that my most revered book, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, has been banned from your local lending library as it contains a wealth of information vis a vis anti-zombie warfare.  Also, it features use of the “N” word like 9,454 times.

Among human beings jealousy ranks distinctly as a weakness; a trademark of small minds; a property of all small minds, yet a property which even the smallest is ashamed of; and when accused of its possession will lyingly deny it and resent the accusation as an insult.  Jealousy can even be found among dirty disgusting zombies.  Why, I have seen many a zombie pick a fight with an associate zombie over the size of a pilfered brain,

 

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