#Monday Morning Commute
Hello, friends. Welcome to Monday Morning Commute. The column that serves as the Balm that soothes the Unrelenting Burn of It All. Within this post, the lot of us wearied travelers come together. We feed each other Chez-Its, and perhaps too lovingly brush the crumbs from one another’s lips. We rub each other’s backs, leaving the hand perhaps a moment too long on the small of one another’s back. And most importantly, we share the various Arts & Farts that we’re looking forward to on a given week. The sort of Necessary Distractions that illuminate our lives, titillate our brains, and distract our souls from the Maelstrom.
Close your eyes. Take a breath. It’s going to be okay.
It doesn’t matter if you’re out of gas money or your car’s exploded or you’re in too much pain to get off the couch. `Cause that’s not what real traveling’s about. In any of those circumstances, you can still close your eyes and tune out. And right when you think all you’re perceiving is the Great Nothing, you’re going to realize that you’ve fallen into the Wonderful Everything.
I want you to mind-travel the universe.
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! I’m going to highlight some of the ways I’ll be staving off existential crises and reinstalling hope. After you see what I’m doing, hit up the comments section and share your own prospective week-activities.
C’mon, don’t be a lamebrain!
It hadn’t been my intention to light the mailman on fire.
I’d just wanted to give him a good scare. A shake-up. A reminder that I’m entitled to nothing less than the respect granted to all employers. `Cause love `em or hate `em, it’s the employers that give us the money for bill-payin’. Don’t believe me? Well, get caught screwin’ your boss’ husband and see how long you can keep payin’ for cable television and discount lapdances and beer and horny-videos and everything else worth livin’ for.
But seriously, I never thought the mailman’d actually go up in flames.
The way I sees it, I’m the mailman’s employer. Why’s that? Well, the mailman’s paycheck comes from taxes. And since I pay taxes most years, it’s my money that becomes his money. Sine qua pro bono. As his employer, it frustrates me to no damn end to see him royally bangin’ the job up the `ole keister. Parcel-delivery is one of the foundations of our friggin democracy! Without it we ain’t more than savages! There’s no excuse for the job bein’ done haphazardly!
And there’s no ignorin’ the fact that the mailman’s been stealin’ my goddamn TV Guides!
So yesterday, I waited by my mailbox. As the mailman approached I asked if he had my TV Guide. When he told me it must’ve been lost in the shuffle, I politely informed him that he was going to lose all of his “filth-riddle ass hairs.” Seizing his moment of confusion, I pushed him into my bushes, sending letters and packages all over the sidewalk. I quickly pulled down the back of his state-issued shorts and covered his buttcheeks with hairspray. As he screamed and squirmed and protested, I kept sprayin’, followin’ the cannister’s instructions to “apply thoroughly.” As I lit the match, I told him that I believed in poetic justice and his theft of my TV Guides had really been chappin’ my ass.
It hadn’t been my intention to light the mailman on fire. But I can’t say I regret it. Where’s my TV Guide?
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! I’m going to list the activities that’ll keep me entertained throughout the week. Your task is to hit up the comments section and share your own suggestions for fun-havin’!
Rock! Roll! Lose control!
Battles will be won. Victories will be celebrated. But we can’t let this momentary triumphs blind us to the grim reality — it never ends. Everything against which we fight will always come back, no matter how valiant our efforts. For as strong as we are, the enemies are immortal.
The Workload. The Stress. The Existential Crisis.
But it’s time that we cue up some new weapons. Tools with which we can wage our eternal struggle. This is the Monday Morning Commute, and I’m going to show you the entertainment that’s helping keep me alive. Your task? Hit up the comments section and show off your own wares.
We gotta get the ventilation system working here on the Space-Ship Omega. Okay. I know that. My phlegm-farts have been stinking up my cabin, floating through the grates, and now your milk steaks taste like ass soup. Apologies. In the meantime, let’s all indulge in some Monday Morning Commute. The one-stop shop for sharing all the easy, breezy, beautiful things you’re looking forward to this week. Just don’t list “my milk steak not tasting like your rectal leakage” as something to be anticipated. Please. I get it. Okay.
Ahoy, denizens of the Space-Ship Omega. Whether you’re a regular spending time in your own cabin on the Ship, or merely a smuggler stopping by for a refueling and some cheap protoplasmic omnisexual alien butt-poon before leaving, you’re all wonderful in my book. This is Monday Morning Commute, the column where all of us wayward organic meat-sacks share the various things we’re looking forward to on a given week. Or thinking about. Or anticipating. Or dreading.
Slide on up to the shit-smeared cantina bar, and knock back some synthetic oat sodas. Imma be quick with my own list though. It’s the first day back at the Helium Mining Factory on Asteroid X and all the fumes got me dizzy. Rest assured you’ll find me lurking in the comments section though, pants-down, smile-applied.
Shazam! This is Monday Morning Commute. And I am Caffeine Powered, the faithful Steward of Space-Ship Omega. Much like I said almost verbatim last year at this time, I am a man under pop culture duress. With E3 popping off, I got my hands seriously full. So forgive me if I work my way through this column with stunning brevity this week. Oh shit! The point of this column? For you and me to share the various things we’re looking forward during the next seven days. Let’s fucking jam.
Welcome to Monday Morning Commute, fellow swine! Oh shit, you didn’t mean to stop here? Then carry on! You’re not swine. You’re just useless! Ha! Ingest my Hate-Gravy! Ah fuck, rambling again. Anyways – yeah - MMC. The column where we share the various things we’re looking forward to/enjoying/masturbating at/dreading/thinking about during a given week. Simple? Right? First you glance at my insipid list, then you share your own tasty morsels.
Greetings, Earthlings! Martians! Transdimensional Omnigendered Omnisexual Multi-Dolphins! This is Monday Morning Commute. It’s currently Memorial Day here in the Empire, which means most of us are stuffed with hormone-soaked meats and oat sodas. But sadly the day shall pass, the long weekend shall end, and we will be (those of us fortunate enough to have the days off) staring into the Gaping Maw of the Work Week. This column is the various things I am looking forward to, to yank me through the shortened grind. Share your own dalliances, fools!
Oh Shit! Caff-Pow up in your cereal! Eating allllllllllllllllll the fucking marshmallows out of your Lucky Charms. What are you going to do about it? Nothing, and you’ll like it! Anyways so yeah it appears that Rendar is still locked in the fucking bathroom or something. His cock stuck, somehow simultaneously sizzling and dripping, in his Ryan Gosling plushie. So it’s me. You. And our choices for Monday Morning Commute. The rundown on what we’re looking forward to this week.