Monday Morning Commute: To The Red F**king Planet With Fury and Glee.

What’s up Star Children? How the fuck are you doing this evening? Rendar threw the Symbol Omega into the sky and asked me to take custody of this steed for this week’s installment. I have a goddamn stomach ache, and I think it’s because its the first day in a week I haven’t gorged on some sort of confectionery nonsense. (Though to be fair our own Eduardo Pluto somehow tricked me into eating an entire fucking box of Runts but that’s neither here nor there.)

Fuck! Fucking fuck. Where was I? Oh yeah! This is MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, the column where everyone throws down their sorrows and lists the distractions and distinctions that is keeping us all from killing ourselves amid the capitalism torture-grind-rack-thing.

Listening: Hot Damn, by Every Time I Die.
There’s a good chance it’s because they dropped a new single last week, but I’ve been ripping through ETID’s backlog in the last week. Keith Buckley makes me sick with the lines he’s able to rattle off with emotion. Plus when I’m feeling particularly depressive there’s nothing like one of their breakdowns to blast through the fog ripping at the synapses and obliterate them in a nuclear winter homicide.

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Now Playing: Bastion [Just Finished], El Shaddai [Starting].
Finally caught up to Bastion this past week. Snagged it for Cheap.99 during XBL’s winter blitz and finished it off last night. Decent game that grew on me throughout the experience. I wish they had utilized the “dynamic narrative” more as a…storytelling technique, you know? The gameplay was gratifying grindy Ratchet and Clank-style dopeness. Next up? El Shaddai! Another game that got brainy gamers to wank it a bit last year. At the very least to get the tip dribbling man. Just a smidge.

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Watching: Benedict Cumberbatch.
It’s a new dude crush! Sprawling over my loins, glazing them in wunder and excitement at a new find. It’s been a Benedict Cumberbatch type of week up in the Caffeined and Powered household. Friday evening the Mrs and myself caught Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. – Fucking righteous movie, yo! – Tonight? Tonight we watched the first episode of Sherlock. So good! I didn’t know it was going to be glazed in the sort of stylistic sheen that gives me inappropriate gloss in the netherpants. Listen man, lots of dick references. Whatever! I was half awake when I was tapped in to write this. You kiss my ass!

You kiss it!

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Reading: The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury.
I’ve never read this book. Get off my fucking ass! I know it’s failure with suck drizzled across it. I’ve been a fan of Fahrenheit for the entirety of my post-childhood years, but I’ve never got around to cracking the spine of this fine collection of Red World adventures. Now is the time! I was about to engage in my virginal experiences with it when I was summoned into a textual summit here in this post. Forgive me! Events. They conspire against me, daring me to never read it.

I’ll win!

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That’s my drivel, good friends. What are you partaking in during Week Two of the Year Of Mayan Oblivion?