Weekend Open Bar: It’s Fine To Be The Sidekick


I am no great leader of men. I am not good at planning, or issuing commands. For many that may be difficult to admit, but I find leaning into your strengths and acknowledging your weaknesses is the best route. I am no great leader of men, but I’m certainly quite adept at being their right hand man. I think this is one of the reasons I get along with my wife, Sam. She is an Alpha-Human, designed to implement designs. Bend reality to her will. And I’m there to. You know. Make her laugh at the end of a long day of being professional and powerful and whatever. I can’t budget, I can’t conceive of running conferences like her. But when she’s hungry I can get her a bagel. Listen, it’s not the most glamorous life. But when you’ve caught the tail of a brilliant, gorgeous comet, you play to your strengths.

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QUE? Bucky’s Marvel Movie Contract is Longer Than Cap America’s.


It turns out that Sebastian Stan’s (Bucky…and well, don’t IMDB if you don’t want to know) Marvel movie contract is longer than Chris Evans’. At first blush this seems confusing as Hell. Especially to someone who is a comics outsider. However, fans of Ed Brubaker’s run on Captain America (HI! IT MAKES MY DONG FROTH IN WAYS THAT DEFY ONTOLOGICAL EXPLANATIONS) know how this could work. In a glorious, glorious way.

Hit the jump for (what I hope) is accurate speculation.

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Monday Morning Commute: Sorry About the Mess.

I just woke up from a nap. The time-stamp on my compu-deck is 9:45PM. The natural inference is that I’m going to stay up too late, not get enough sleep, and drag ass all day tomorrow.

This is going to be a problem.

So how will I combat the First World Problem of being overtired at work? Well, with huge scoops of entertainment that’ll either sharpen my mind or further dull it! And how will I tell the lovely OL patrons which mind-bullets I’ll be loading into my metaphor-pistol? Why, with this very post – the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

C’mon, hop aboard and check out how I’ll be coping with the indentured servitude that is the forty-hour workweek. After you see which snake-oils I’m sipping on, hit up the comments section and show off your own curative elixirs.

1,2,3. 1,2,3. Keep it up.

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