#Featured Articles

Weekend Open Bar: sit down. be humble.

sit down bitch be humble

I am of the opinion that posting a Weekend Open Bar belatedly is a losing gesture, if a gesture at all. If it don’t hit Friday evening, it might as well not hit. But hey, what can you do. Last night I was besieged by PLAYAWF HAWKEY, and blessed with the opportunity to spend time with Rendar and Bateman.

So like, you know.

When the stars align and the three founders of OL hangout all at the same time (an occurrence one can hope happens more often, but an occurrence complicated by busy lives and us upon our own journeys in the omni-multi-verses), you better take goddamn advantage of it.

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Monday Morning Commute: Subversive Verses

Subversive Verses

The Black-and-Blues were chasin’ me through the bazaar, gainin’ more and more ground than I’d thought they would’ve. Bastards. I pumped my legs harder and harder. Searched deeper and deeper in my ash-lungs. Ordered a drink when my bartender-heart flicked the lights and bellowed “Last call.”

Somehow, I burst outta the market without bein’ bludgeoned by `em. But that don’t mean that the lawmen’d given up. Hell no – you’d better believe that when the Black-and-Blues’ve worked up a thirst, they ain’t gonna stop `til they slake it with blood.

I pushed on, never stoppin’ until I saw her.

She stood at the end of the pier, smile beamin’ and hand extendin’.

We’d traveled the long hard road together, and there was no takin’ it back. None of it. Even if I’d wanted to – which you’d better believe I didn’t – there was no chance in Hell that’d we be able to undo what we’d done. The State don’t look too kindly on subversion.

And when you’re in the business of robbin’ banks and usin’ that money to fund off-world rockets for those who’ve failed all of the State’s prerequisite exams, well, y’better believe they’re lookin’ at you as subverts.

Feelin’ the heat on my heels, I ran to her, extendin’ my hand and reachin’ for hers. And when our hands interlocked, I clenched. Real goddamn hard, too. And that beamin’ smile of hers became a shootin’ scowl.  Which worked perfect, `cause once I put my blade to her neck she knew what I was doin’ but couldn’t protest through the pain.

The Black-and-Blues saw a subversive maniac threatenin’ to slit the throat of a woman. She saw the sonofabitch she loved takin’ the hard hit for the team, headfirst into the goddamn boards. And I saw the woman I loved walk away, untouched by the State and free to do as she pleased.

Needless to say, it was pretty fuckin’ righteous when she turned around and pulled out her heater.

—-

Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

Now that you’ve slogged through (or skipped!) my drivel-fiction, it’s time that we all share what we’ll be checking out this week. What movies, albums, action figures, TV shows, video games, sandwiches, or other entertaining entities are you looking forward to this week?

Remember, you’ll be dead before you know it, so you might as well enjoy some life!

I’ll get us started!

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Weekend Open Bar: as tasty as you let it be

as tasty as you let it be

It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby!

That can only mean, well, an assortment of things for yours truly. Overeating. Watching wrestling. Sleeping late. Continuing to overeat. Playing video games. Watching playoff hockey. All sorts, oh, oh, all sorts of glorious, hedonistic, self-indulgent, wildly self-masturbatory excessivism.

But! It’s the Weekend! Some come, fellow garbage lurkers. Come and spend time here in the Weekend Open Bar.

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Monday Morning Commute: reunited and the blood’s gone cold.

reunited and the blood

They tryta tell ya not to worry.
“Don’t worry about it, everything will be fine.”

They tryta tell ya that it’s not really fuckin’ weird.
“What you’re feeling, right now, it’s perfectly normal.”

They tryta tell ya that what — or, I guess, who – you’re seein’ is familiar.
“Look! There he is! He’s opened his eyes! See, he’s waving to you! Wave back!”

But I’ll be goddamned if I ain’t never seen nothin’ less familiar.
“Go ahead – go into the room and give him a hug!”

And I’ll be good goddamned if there ain’t nothin’ I’d ever wanted to destroy more.
“Here, let me bring you in! I can only imagine what waiting for The Reuniting has felt like.”

Unfortunately, turns out that paperworkin’ and payin’ and waitin’ all felt like shit, and that shit felt like gold compared to this shit.

Unfortunately, turns out that bein’ Reunited with your once-dead son don’t feel so good as they tryta tell ya.

Unfortunately, turns out that seein’ your once-dead son openin’ his eyes and wavin’ at ya don’t feel so good when ya could only afford to upload his mind into a bootleg clone.

They tryta tell ya not to worry.
Worry.

—-

Come one, come all, step right up, folks: this is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

First, I spit prose-nonsense at you (that’s the stuff at the top). Then, I try to apologize for it by sharing a list of pop culture detritus I’ll be chewing on all week (that’s the stuff you’ll see after the jump). Finally, you hit up the comments and tell us what you’ll be entertainment-consuming this week.

Right this way, hombres!

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Weekend Open Bar: The Groove Salve on the Brain Boil

The Groove Salve on the Brain Boil

My desired Existential-Aesthetic is mid-to-late-1980s Jean-Claude Van Damme movies.

There is such a manic, loosely-tethered lunacy to his movies that more or less perfectly captures the reciprocal nature of It, itself. The meaning in his films are kind of missing, maybe there, sort of apparent, but always haunting you as you dare to ascertain It. Yet, despite the non-sensical, godless, utterly conflicting messages of his movies, that still manage to have fun and revel in doing so.

And yeah, I guess, that’s sort of how I want to approach life, to approach It. It’s a godless, non-sensical world, with no apparent plot or overriding structure. But, despite that, I’m going to cobble together my own absurdist meaning, and have fun doing so.

And I hope you’ll join me, this weekend, at the Open Bar, in celebrating our own non-sensical, absurd existences together. Come, come, come into the bar. Share what you’re up to. The movies you’re watching, the liquid you’re imbibing, the books you’re reading. Anything and Everything always, so long as it adheres to this place’s sole rule: goddamn it, you’ve got to be kind.

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Weekend Open Bar: Passionfruit

weekend open bar passionfruit

Oh, fuck! It’s the Weekend. Oh, fuck! It’s the Weekend Open Bar! Oh, fuck! My wife told me I only have ten minutes to Open the Bar. And, and, and, you know. Between fiddling with the volume control on my speakers, messaging a couple of friends, and, you know. Do you know? ‘Cause I don’t. Where the fuck is the time going? Oh, fuck! Time, it bleeds, life it bleeds, the universe it slowly, slowly bleeds out. Us, it, none of us truly conscious of it! Stay focused though, man! There ain’t time for your usual existential blatherings.

This is Weekend Open Bar!

The cure-all, catch-all weekly column at the end of the work week! Where I, your Captain and Local Garbage Lord, implore you to come and hang out! Share what you’re eating, watching, watching while eating, playing, et cetera. So on. So forth.

Get high, get drunk, get hard, get soft, whatever, whatever, whatever! It’s all good here.  So long as you don your most welcoming and affable of affectations and share what you’re up to this weekend. Shoot the shit, if you will.

This is Weekend Open Bar!

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Monday Morning Commute: Grace & the Face of Annihilation

Grace and the Face of Annhilation

Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

What’s the deal with the MMC, you ask? Well, this is the weekly feature that sees me vomitin’ a bit of short prose at you, and then apologizin’ by way of showin’ off the worthwhile entertainment I’ll be checkin’ out throughout the week.

Then, if you’re not totally repulsed, you hit up the comments section and tell us about the movies, TV programs, video juegos, rap songs, snacks, and other delectables you’ll be chompin’ on so as to make the workweek a bit more bearable.

Yes, you’re right — it is sorta like show-and-tell for Internet Maniacs. Let’s boogie, y’bastards!

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Weekend Open Bar: Live From The Post-Apocalyparadise!

I initially had a really dour headline and gif to kick off this weekend’s Open Bar. The title was “It’s Better If You Don’t”, which really was a phrase which didn’t mean anything to me. The gif was of an insomnia-riddled Jack from Fight Club blinking at the endless stuffing of the info-tube into his mind-gullet.

My wife’s been away for like fifteen days. My job is stressful and tenuous. The skies are gray and bleeding moisture. Just not feeling It today, you know?

But, hey, man. What the fuck, right? Why wallow?

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Desktop Thursdays: open your heart to the snake oil peddlers

desktop thursdays open your heart to the snake oil peddlers

This is Desktop Thursdays! Your (quasi)weekly look at my world(s). Be they emotional, virtual, realistical, video gamical. All them fucking worlds! I ain’t just about sharing, though. Show me your world(s) in the comments section. I beseech thee.

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Monday Morning Commute: The Easy Winter

The Easy Winter

“Let’s keep things in perspective – it was an easy winter.”

He thought of the foals they’d lost. Breathing labored and desperate. Eyelids too gummed up to open. Hot blood draining into cold snow.

He thought of the job they’d botched. Hyperdrive malfunctioning in subzero. Automatons screaming in death throes. Too few minerals for too many men to two-time `em all.

He thought of what this life’d cost. The honor. The glory. The woman.

“Easy winter? Hombre, there ain’t no such thing.”

—-

Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the spot for sharin’ our survival tactics, the showcasin’ of wares we’ll be relyin’ upon to survive the workweek. `Cause it’s lookin’ bad out there, folks, so if we’re goin’ to keep the gaspipes from our lips, well, then we’re goin’ to need something to keep us gaspin’ for oxygen!

I’ll start this rock’n’roll dance-off!

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