#Monday Morning Commute

Monday Morning Commute: The Law. How Very Trashy.

how trashy

Welcome friends, to the weekly Commute. It’s early Monday evening as I type this. WWE’s finest thespians babbling incoherently on my Tele-Visor. Mrs. CaffPow preoccupied, whipping up some cupcakes for some sort of party at work. The sky is dark, the heart is light. My semester is over for a couple of weeks.

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Monday Morning Commute: A Secret War On Planet Sunshine

seecrettt

It’s getting nice out, folks. The sunshine is popping here on the Northeastern seaboard of the Empire. Temperatures are in the 80s today. The sky is blue. It’s almost enough to get you through the workday alone. If you’re one of those people who can appreciate leaving to Sol smiling upon your face, and not lament the fact that you’re indoors for eight-hours of its beauty. I am one of those people. So I’m feeling pretty fucking content, today. But that doesn’t mean I ain’t sweating a bunch of stuff this week. So Monday Morning Commute shall, of course, run its course. It just means that I’m going to be moderately less depressed as I toil through the week towards enjoying these arts, farts, and sundries.

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Monday Morning Commute: You Can Be Damn Sure We’ll Sequelize It!

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It’s Monday Morning Commute! That time of the week where I share the various shizit I’m going to be totally rubbin’ up upon during a given week. These proverbial (and literal) dry-humpings are intended as salves against the burn of Existence. Ultimately empty employments of distraction that prohibit me from achieving some sort of proletarian cathexis designed to Damn The Man. But let’s be honest. We can’t damn the man, that ship has sailed. So let’s watch superhero movies, drink beer, and enjoy our moments of frivolity.

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Monday Morning Commute: Let There Be Cake!

LET THERE BE CAKE!

Welcome to Monday Morning Commute aboard the Space-Ship OMEGA. Truth be told: there ain’t much commuting in Massachusetts on this wonderful day. It’s Patriots Day. Which, I’m pretty sure, is only celebrated here in the State that Spawned the Empire, You’re Welcome. But that doesn’t mean there ain’t a litany of things I’m looking forward to this week. So here is a lost of pop culture artifacts I’m absorbing into my ethereal corpus in an effort to deny myself the agony of existence. Be sure to share your own!

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Monday Morning Commute: Sisyphus’ Favorite Balloon

matthewandtheeverylastingprofoundsadness

Look at Matty Murdock. Holding a balloon. While he looks up to Hey-Zeus Cristos for guidance, he strikes me as a Sisyphean hero. His approach to life smacks of Rieux from The Plague. When Rieux is asked if he knows what it means to be a doctor during plague time he responds, “a never ending defeat.” Yet he dusts himself off, and carries on. Much like Matty. Much like all of us amidst the Pointless Expanse’s Grind. We are all Sisyphus. We must all hold balloons. And so to make this all fit into a dumb package: this is Monday Morning Commute. A list of the metaphorical balloons I shall be holding onto this week, begging them to lift me above the malaise.

Please share your own!

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Monday Morning Commute: When in Hell we do shots at the bar!

when in hell

Hello, True Believers! Degenerates! Booger Eaters! Slobs! Slovens! Functioning Human Beings! Individuals Excelling At Their Vocations! If you’re down with the Space-Ship, if you’re here by mistake, if you’re on the Fence and considering writing my Mother a strongly worded email. I want all of you! All of you to share what you’re up to this week. What’s getting you through the doldrums? This is Monday Morning Commute. And that’s the point of this column.

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Tuesday Afternoon Commute: All Aboard The Malaise Train

whatever

Welcome to Tuesday Afternoon Commute! It’s your Captain! Caff-Pow! Choo choo! I’m currently championing all rides aboard the Malaise Train. Here on the Malaise Train we have a vague feeling that things aren’t that bad but who cares when we’re just a collection of borrowed atoms and at best like seventy years away from dissolution? Yeah man I need to read some Camus, find the Absurdist Purpose, and rally. But until then I’m going to share what I’m “enjoying” this week as I stare dead-eyed at my Tumblr feed.

Share your own diggings, perhaps they can penetrate my perpetual pall.

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Monday Morning Commute: The Baby Just Babied You!

the baby!

It was a very special commute this Monday. The last Monday commute before I rock Spring Break next week! A commute suffused with the knowledge that a Siesta is approaching. A Siesta filled with much gaming, much reading, much much sleeping, and a little comic book convention (more on that next week), too. This is what I’m up to on this week before the Breaking of Spring, and I hope you share your travels, trials, tribulations, and titillations, as well.

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Monday Morning Commute: The Hall of Hell & Mirth

hall of hell and mirth

It’s Monday. And the work week is beginning for the majority of this. The work weeks will begin for the majority of us, forever, until death or retirement. Which given the state of the Rotting Empire may or may not be available for all of us. In front of us: a wasteland. Or an oasis. Depending on how you approach the rolling of your rock. Do you embrace it? Modify it with personal creation, acts of enjoyment, and a collage of distractions? Or do you pound your fists futilely, condemning the Gods That Don’t Care for y/our fate?

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Monday Morning Commute: No, Donny, these men are nihilists

tiueseMEN

Greetings, friends. Nihilism is exhausting. But so is commuting an hour-and-a-half every day, both ways. Just sitting in my goddamn car, staring at the brake lights of the Fellow Fools in front of me. I dream of many things, during those hours upon hours of weekly gridlock. Of video games I am looking forward to playing, of movies I am looking forward to seeing. Comics, books, and other distractions.

The yank my corporeal form through the thresher, these distractions. They shove my reluctant soul through the Monday Morning Commute. One week at a time.

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