Monday Morning Commute: Coping Mechanisms and Caffeine Kicks

Motherfuckin' coping mechanisms.

…and a good day to you too, folks. For those of you here in the Empire, I hope your long weekend was rather enjoyable. Me? Oh, I had myself a blast. Took one off the chin in the world of sporting events (hint), but what the fuck can you do. This weekend also saw the frozen ice guys back on the prowl, with Rendar and myself enjoying a jaunt to the ice chest today ourselves. Local team won, we ate something like ninety-three hot dogs. By the end of the day I was able to smile again, thanks to a little salve on the nips. This is Monday Morning Commute, a column which a list of coping mechanisms we use to get ourselves through the doldrums. Coping mechanisms (video games) for when coping mechanisms (sports teams) fail. System redundancies.



Playing: DmC
Yo. What the dog shit is going on in the gaming community? If you’ve never liked a DMC, you won’t like the new title. So don’t bother. However, if you’re a fan of the series and you can’t get over the new design of Dante? I don’t know. I’ll pour a 40 ounce of the finest Dew out on behalf of your stubbornness. Our own Faux Bot is correct, this new jam fucking rocks. I bought the title on his recommendation, and I’ve been ripping through it ever since. The best way I can describe it is this: it’s the best looking Devil May Cry ever, with the same enjoyable gameplay, plus a batch of pretty fucking fun platforming. IDK, people. I don’t know. He’s now a black-haired asshole, as compared to his previous station as a white-haired asshole.


Frizzle Fry.

Listening: Primus
I’m partying like I’m back in high school. It’s the same sort of partying that I generally indulge in these days, save a few differences. Burping the dong, eating crappy food.  The only difference is that I’ve been whacking and gaming to the dulcet eccentricity of Senor Claypool and the Noise Brigade. I used to be obsessed with this threesome back in the day, but through the years they have faded. Like my fat kid stretch marks. Like my psychiatric bills. Nay to all that evaporating upon the death-rays of time. Bring back 4,000 calorie dinners. Bring back Primus.


Fuck yeah.

Stoked for: Hockey
Fuck yeah! It is about time. As I said, I attended the local ice hockey ring today for a testing of bladed-wills. There was a point this winter when I was worried that I may have to actually work on myself. Read books. Maybe actually write something creative. Contemplate the incomprehensible nature of the Universe. Thank the Makers, none of that will have to pass.


I'm such a fucking fat ass.

Really need to stop: eating English muffin sandwiches before bed.
Do you know the best way to gain unnecessary weight? Well, I don’t know the best way. I have no divining powers. However, I can report on a pretty good way to become a fat ass. Over the last month, I’ve been eating two English muffin sandwiches. The filling? Chunky peanut butter,  brah. The effects have been stellar. Not even my usual hour+ daily routine at the gym has been able to stave off the bloat. Fuck, yo. I’m a righeous carbaholic. I can’t help it. If you can think of a better way to finish the day off, instead of reclining for 500 calories of nutty goodness while staring at asses at Tumblr…please let me know. I need you. My jeans need you.



Watching: Justified
Anyone watching Justified, aside from me? Eh? Would you be interested in me doing a weekly recap? I am getting an impression The Dude is…not doing it this year. I don’t blame the guy, he was double-teaming television recaps for a while. He’s a big guy, and I’ve seen him get double-teamed before, but Christ. Everyone tires after a while.