Tuesday Morning Commute: Reality is a Glitch
Hey friends. Tuesday Morning Commute! in the house. The column where we share the various nonsense that is getting us through the grind of a given week. Speaking of grinds — sorry for the lack of updates. And the tardiness of this column. Last week of the semester is a wonderful sprint through existence. Pubes on fire. Covered in anxiety-vomit. Praying for a better world. The good news is that starting next week you’re going to be way stuck with me for four months.
This is what I’m digging.
One of the neat things about the last generation passing is the amount of cheap games on the market. $10 for a middling, but fun cyberpunk FPS? Okay!
Review is brilliant. I don’t throw this word around a lot – or if I do (I have no memory, it’s gone, gone!) – I shouldn’t.
Obsessing over: The NHL playoffs, man.
I knew I loved you, Prince Henry.
Concerned with: It’s bikini season and I’m a mess.
Between the “my back pain is cancer” dementia and my 101 temperature/chest cold last week, I pretty much haven’t been to the gym regularly in a month. That hasn’t stopped me from crushing whole pizzas and bags of Skittles, though. So if self-improvement is masturbation, I need to start furiously jacking it.
That’s me, folks. That’s allllll me! What are you getting into this week? Let’s dance!