Playing DEAD CELLS. Talking SHIT. Ruminating on the staggering homoeroticism that is 300. Bemoaning the Powers That Be covering up Aquaman‘s tits. Other nonsense.
Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.
At least here in the Northeast, and other sundry places currently eating Winter’s Shit. The teeth, you ask? The teeth, I shall explain. We have entered that interminable period after the holidays where it’s all snow, slush, and gloom. There are no holidays to look forward to. And while the days are getting longer once again, it’s hard to appreciate when it’s -13 with the fucking windchill.
Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.
But, at least we have our frivolities, right? And, isn’t that what Monday Morning Commute is all about? Sharing the frivolities we’re looking forward to on a given week, to get us through the grind?
It is, indeed!
I’ll go first.
The finale to our playthrough of The Messenger! Honestly, I’m posting this a week late, so I don’t really fucking remember what went on in it! Check it out! I’m sure it has cheap dick jokes, genuine bro camaraderie, and a sizzlin’ chat.
Hey, fuckers! Did you miss the stream on Saturday night? If so, what the fuck! But, we got you covered here. Jump into the first stream of the new year! We talking boners. We playing The Messenger. We spending too much time debating Black Mirror: Bandersnatch‘s merits, its medium, and other bullshit. Bags is housing tacos. Ian’s talking about taking his pants off. The fuck you waiting for? Let’s go!
The title is some shitty pun on the fact that we got too far to go this Winter, my dudes. Yeah, fuck me with a sideways plank, it’s brutal. But, what do you want out of me? I like Fargo, and I hate the Winter, and I’m just doing my best!
And man, do I fucking hate Winter. I used to stunt and pretend I enjoyed it. Alas, that fucking period has passed. Sure, sure, I enjoy the crisp air. And if the planet stopped melting for a moment to provide the Northeast with some snow, I’d enjoy too. But, what are the Lords currently offering me? Miserable, raw-ass rainy days and darkened evenings.
Anyways, how the fuck you doing? Me? I’m still in this liminal state between semesters. Where theoretically I’m on campus tutoring for the Winter session. However in reality? I’m staring at asses on Tumblr and writing up this wonderful little column.
It could be much, much worse, I admit. Plus, holy jizz cannoli, do I have a lot of things I’m currently enjoying.
Come, come. Follow my over-caffeinated, hunched ass into the dungeon. Check out what I’m sweating this week. Then, oh I implore you, let me know what you’re looking forward to over the next seven slivers of existence.
This is Monday Morning Commute!
How’s it going, friends? Me? I’m about to put a cap on the wonderful age of thirty-five. How was the year? Some good. Some bad. Another year of sucking wind, and another year of having my health. Thus, it’s hard not to feel grateful as I hurdle into the back-end of my thirties tomorrow.
I’m in the best shape of my life. Mentally, physically, and as a teacher. Yet, oh does Entropy ever whisper in my ear. Quietly passing along the irrefutable axiom, “all of this is borrowed.” Eh, what can you do, you know? Spend the time with friends and family, purpose and appreciation.
Anyone who has been around OL for a good amount of time (coming up on ten fucking years) knows that I absolutely abhor fucking “best of lists” with a fury. They’re divisive, inflammatory, and lead to bickering and bitching. That said, anyone who has been around OL for a good amount of time also knows that I love cultivating a community wherein we can share dope shit. With that preposterously verbose preamble in mind, I’d like for us to gather and share our Favorites of 2018.
The fashion and function of this motherfucker is to share what we really, really enjoyed this year. As a means to reminisce and share your faves with people who have potentially missed these sweet, sweet thangs. Additionally, it’s a space for others to share their fucking faves that you may have missed. I by no means consider myself to have good taste or particularly incisive insight (especially since I’m rushing to get this out before NYE dinner), so take or leave this list! But, please, please share what you’ve enjoyed in the comments.
There were my favorites of 2018.
Y’ever celebrate Christmas? Or Hanukkah? Boxing Day? Kwanzaa?
I’m bettin’ y’have, Dirt-Foot.
But what about Saturnalia? Y’ever get blasted on wine and orgy-bang until swollen and then check out a human sacrifice?
`Less I’m gettin’ y’ears through a time-tunnel, chances’re that y’never bowed before Saturn.
That, said, let’s s’pose y’actually have celebrated Saturnalia – where’d’y’do it? Poor folks, likely in a hovel w’rats scurryin’ in’n’out? Moneybags ‘mongst’ya, in th’actual Temple of Saturn?
That’s purdy cool.
But me? Where’m I celebratin’ Saturnalia this year? What’d’y’say if I told’y’that my mission brought me to Space Station Cronus, and I’m orbitin’ the sixth planet from the sun? What’d’y’say if I told y’that the boys already been loadin’ up on cheap terra-wine? What’d’y’say if I told y’that everyone chipped in to get a live-stream of the day’s NFL games and we’re aimin’ to gamble our ways into fortune? What’d’y’say if I told y’that we convinced Doc to order them good prescription horny-pills and we’re aimin’ to stink up the joint as we slide against each other?
What’d’y’say if I told you that even in the future the parties of the past prevail?
Well, if I was you – well, goddamn, I’d say “Happy Saturnalia, y’old son of a bitch!”
Welcome to the holiday edition of MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!
Now that you’ve read some of my sci-fi nonsense, it’s time to discuss what we’re all doing this week! Let’s share strategies for having a good (Yule) time!
Yo! It’s the Weekend Open Bar! The weekly weekend invitation extended to the members of the Space-Ship Omega! To do what? Well, I’m glad you fucking asked! It’s an invitation to gather-up around in the digi-hearth and share what you’re up to the next two days.
Are you snagging a Christmas tree this weekend? Or perhaps you’re spending the next couple of days silently praying to the Gods of Fantasy Football. Neither of those? Well, maybe you’re inside, hiding from the cold. Playing Red Dead Redemption 2 and swigging holiday beers.