Monday Morning Commute: Heart-Failin’ Classics

It’s Monday.

Driving to work this morning, I saw a BMW pulled over in the breakdown lane. Hazards flashing. Black smoke billowing out from under the hood. The middle-aged driver pulled himself through the open sunroof, stood upright as though he were First Man emerging from the primordial birth canal, shook his balled-up fist at the sky, and let loose a guttural wail that cut through the nonsense-talkers inside of my radio-box. His briefcase was launched onto a station wagon, in the process cracking its windshield and scaring the illegal immigrants riding inside. He then slipped, fell off of the roof, and got to his feet just in time to spit blood into my open passenger side window as I drove by.

In my rear view, I saw him whip out his dick while strangling himself with his tie.

It’s Monday.

As such, it’s my pleasure to welcome you to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the spot where we share our panaceas for work-induced ennui and existential fatigue. After I show you the cocktail I’ll be using, hit up the comments section and show off your own self-medications.


Drinkin’/Pumpkin Spice Latte

Okay, let me beat you to the punch: “Starbucks sucks!”

Believe me, I know the entire litany as to why one should avoid giving handing over hard-earned cash to the world’s largest coffeehouse. Starbucks is a venue for pretentious douchebags to sip on overpriced drinks with complicated names while pretending to hammer-strike poems into their MacBooks. Starbucks tries to summon the authenticity of beatnik cafes by playing pre-selected jazz and blues tracks that’re available for purchase on a handy-dandy compilation right by the register. And if you ever meet someone that’s worked at Starbucks, they’ll let you know about the mind-control tactics used during employee training.

With that being said, the muthafuckahs know how to brew.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been taking every possibly opportunity revel in autumnal glory. As such, on my way home from the doctor’s office (don’t worry – it’s not contagious!), I stopped into a Starbucks and treated myself to a Pumpkin Spice Latte. Perhaps it’s because I usually take my coffee black, but I couldn’t get over just how much delicious-wonder is packed into twelve fluid ounces. My drive home was made infinitely more enjoyable by the sweet, pumpkin-flavored kickstart to my heart.

Moreover, the drink got me thinking about the prospect of making coffee-based drinks at home. On the weekends, I’ll sometimes treat myself to a cup of coffee that I sweeten with honey and lighten with vanilla soy milk. But mayhaps it’s time that I invest in an actually espresso machine. Hell, I could even buy some of those kooky syrups and powders and shit!

How do you take your coffee? How should I take mine?


Rockin’/Heritage (Opeth)

Tomorrow sees the release of Opeth’s Heritage, an album being described as an experimental departure for the Swedish death-metal group. Apparently, Mikael Akerfeldt pushed the group into new terrain by tapping into his admiration for 1970s progressive rock. Consequently, the cookie-monster vocals that’ve been on every single Opeth album are nowhere to be found, replaced by hypnotic keys, clean vocals, and even some flutes.

Excepting The Devil’s Orchard (posted above), I haven’t heard any tracks off the new album. Although metal-purists seem reluctant to embrace this new direction, I have a good feeling about spinning this disc for the first time.


Appreciatin’/HBO GO!

I’ve been in my new apartment for almost a month now, and I’m enjoying it quite a bit. I’ve got a cozy little room with everything I need, there’s a sick view out of a third-floor bay window, and I’ve even got a storage closet just for my oils, salves, and old peanut butter jars filled with goat’s blood that I use in Satanic rituals.

It’s nice.

Unfortunately, I’m still without a TV. Which isn’t a big deal, but it’s frustrating because I’m paying for cable and my television hasn’t been delivered post-repair (long story short – new TV was cracked, company offered to repair for free, now I play weeks-long waiting game). However, the pain was eased with my introduction to something truly beautiful: HBO GO.

I signed into HBO GO just to catch the last two episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and was blown away by the service. From what I can tell, virtually everything that is currently on HBO can be streamed to your computer. Movies, series, documentaries, stand-up specials, hell even Taxi Cab Confessions – it’s all there!

I know that we’re still without jet-packs, and the total-cancer vaccine has yet to be invented, but I’ll be goddamned if we’re not living in the future. Do you think our parents would’ve believed that we’d have remote access to thousands of hours of entertainment that can be selected and viewed in a matter of seconds? Doubtful.

As long as I’ve got HBO GO, I don’t need a flying car


Overpriced coffee. Swedish prog-rock. Streaming movies.

That’s what my week’s lookin’ like.

How about yours?