#Monday Morning Commute

Monday Morning Commute: That Noveria Life


As you may or may not know, it’s the fucking Snowpocalypse here on the Northeastern Seaboard of the Empire. We ain’t fucking Commuting Anywhere! It’s the End Times! That’s what the media says! No worries. No sweat. I have serious provisions: four twelve-packs of Diet Dews. Five pounds of Laffy Taffy. A family-sized box of Chez-Its. And I have serious amounts of time on my hands, too. Multiple feet of snow coming in. Multiple miles-per-hour of serious wind. Probably ain’t going to teach again until Friday. So this is what I’m filling my week with. Both during the Snowpocalypse and after we dig out.

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Tuesday Afternoon Commute: You’re Here Until You’re Not


No one reads this, so why bother? No one posts here, so why both? No one lives forever, so why bother? And I sat in bed with a tirade stuck in my head that not even the medication could medicate out. “How can I UnBe? How can I Not? How can this loosely tethered string of characteristics that is Me stop? Where will I go? What will it feel like?” This is Tuesday afternoon’s edition of what is supposed to be Monday morning’s commute. A column that used to be a place where lovely folk would gather and share their existential happenings. But now it’s a place primarily vacant. Primarily perpetuated by habit. A fading dissociation, the entropic nature of this formerly lively website-blog-collection of-Depraves mimicking the entropic nature of it All. Nothing stays, everything ends, energy can be neither created nor destroyed but it certainly fucking disperse. This is what this anxious, rotting, jittery Meat-Bag is up to this week. Feel free to ignore me, said the Lonely Man to the Empty Hallway.

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Monday Morning Commute: Lowdown Sisyphus Up-Rock


Monday, motherfuckers. Another day at the beginning of another week. For those of us on the M-F Grind, Monday heralds yet another blitz through the whirling blades of the Existential Gauntlet. But fear not, friends. The Man has peppered our lives with another Meaningless Morsels to keep us just Fat, Happy, and Distracted Enough from pulling plugs and diving into stark abysses.

These are the Meaningless Morsels I’m enjoying this week. Please share your own.

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Monday Morning Commute: Watch Your Step

watch your step

Watch your fucking step. It’s a goddamn cold one out there. At least if you’re like yours truly, living in the Northeast Quadrant of the Empire Proper. But should not grouse too loudly, for I am lucky enough to be able to ignite the heating-systems on my room in the Space-Ship. Huddle up underneath blankets of Local Sporting Team, plug into the OMNI-NETS, and converse with you folk. The specific topic of our conversation? Well seeing that this is Monday Morning Commute, let us discus what we are stoked for this week. What are the TV shows, sporting events, philosophical treatises, and tumblr accounts getting you through this latest installment of grind?

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Monday Morning Commute: Oh, I’m Sorry. I Didn’t Know.

Oh. I'm Sorry.

Holy Tits on a Sacred Idol, I haven’t issued forth a meaningless communique in six days? ‘Tis the season for negligence or something. Is this inter-microphone on? Is anyone hearing this? Or am I, as always, a captive spectator in the Theater of My Own Mind? None the less. Here I am. Over-caffeinated, under-medicated, and ready to dive headfirst into Monday Morning Commute. The column where we share what we’re excited for during a given week. Maybe it’s a movie. Maybe it’s a meal. Maybe it’s a secret rendezvous in a Burger King bathroom with an omni-gendered, multiverse alien with all the holes, phalanges, phalluses, and proclivities to finally sate a very (very) nuanced sexual appetite.

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Tuesday Afternoon Commute: chicken&meat


Hello, friends! And welcome again to a late edition of Monday Morning (Tuesday Afternoon) Commute. What can I say? Other than I thought I was going to have more time during my break than is actually proving true. However, in addition to being busier than expect, I’ve been spending my time with friends and family. Chemically altered and smiling through the evenings in the company of the Great and Inspiring familiars. Anyways — here’s what I’m up to this week. Share your own list of the Shit Being Enjoyed, Food Being Consumed, and Other Miscellany across the next seven days.

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Tuesday Afternoon Commute: That Rotten Tooth


It’s Monday Morning Commute! Er. It’s Tuesday Afternoon Commute! How you folks doing? Me? I’m on my first day of break. And honestly I feel like I should be enjoying it more than I am. As a man of routine, the obliteration of my Daily Planner leaves me confused. Lost. Should I be productive and write? Or consume 3,000 calories? Go to the gym? Or play nine hours of Grand Theft Auto 5? My penchant is a predilection for self-destruction. So here are the various things I’m relying on to keep me (somewhat) functioning this week.

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Monday Morning Commute: A Nice Egg

a nice egg

Welcome to Tuesday Morning Commute! I’m busier than a mofuckah’ here the last week of the semester. Students coming out of the woodwork, not wanting to fail. Tutees wanting me to salvage papers last moment. And grading! Oh, the fucking grading. But I’m almost at the end. I can see six weeks of gluttony, literature, and gaming right around the corner. Here’s what I’m looking forward to this week though. The materials that are dragging me through this sad limp to the finish.

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Monday Morning Commute: Who needs long weekends?


Hey friends. Today was a rockier commute than usual. The long, long weekend giving way to a long, long drive into Boston. Long, long silences when I tried to drag effort out of my students like poison from a wound. But I can’t blame them, because fuck this semester has been going on for a long, long three months. My head is pounding. My stomach is seething after a day of daring to fill it with food products that are neither slathered in gravy, nor cheese. Still. The Column-Spice must flow.


These — these are the various things I’m looking forward to this week. That I shall latch onto, not unlike a tick. And hopefully suck the life-blood out of, allowing me to not call out sick. Which would follow with me festering under a blanket. Eating my weight in Laffy Taffy. I can do this. You can do this. We can do this.

Welcome to Monday Morning Commute.

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Monday Morning Commute: Bodyslam Ingratitude


It is Thanksgiving this week in the heart of the Empire. Say what you will about the manipulative mythos that has conjured such a holiday. Say it to the wind. Say it to people outside of the local Walmart. But know this. I think it is wonderful to celebrate a day where family, and gratitude are paramount, regardless of your ideological inclination. And so a wild anarchist like yours truly  can still find himself sitting down this Thursday to cop to the warm, fuzzy embrace of familial gluttony and momentary harmony. I’m goddamn glad to be here. And for everything I have.

So while it isn’t a typical work cycle, still I offer up Monday Morning Commute. The column where we share what we’re looking forward to during a given week. This iteration filled with 100% more mashed potatoes than usual.

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