Hey, you fucks! Here’s a couple of clips for you. First off? Honestly, one of my proudest moments playing Dead Cells on stream. I refuse to heal after that punk-ass Conjunctivius fully infects me with malaise. Come for my dodging and dancing, stay for Bags’ amazing reaction to it all.
Salve, bitches! That’s Latin for “hello” and pretty much all I remember from four-years of taking that language. How is everyone these days? I hope you’re hanging in there, given, you know the circumstances. What circumstances? Throw a dart at a board of world topics. Whatever it lands on? That circumstance, among the others.
That said, ain’t doing too badly over here. Surfing these waning stages of summer both in terms of the weather, lifestyle, and vacation. As I’ve oft indicated, this is one of my favorite times of the year. However in many ways, it feels like a sort of holding pattern. I can sense that Fall and the semester are looming, which leads to a bit of anxiety. At the same time though, I got myself open evenings and late rises. It’s a liminal space, and it ain’t the worst place.
I know! Oh, god, do I know. Know what? That in about seven weeks I’m going to be looking back longingly on this specific moment in space-time. You know, as I’m buried under my first or second wave of papers to grade, with seasonal depression tag-teaming with my usual state of mental illness. Really just blasting my balls, the two of them taking turns. Occasionally teaming-up for an impressive tandem move.
Anyways, you all know the fucking rigmarole here. It’s Monday Morning Commute! What are you fuckers up to this week? What are you basking in, as the days grow shorter, the air grows colder, and Autumn begins to walk into the room?
Yeah, I butchered the mantra of Cobra Kai to kick this shit off. However, it seems more apropos for a weekend column where I encourage everyone to fucking relax. I mean, no? That said, I’m deeply entrenched in Cobra Kai’s actual mantra, especially if it means that Daniel-San is going to get his fucking nards blasted. A revelation I hope to encounter this weekend, as Bags and I dive deeper into the first season of the show named after the dojo. Fuck, guys, it’s so good. For those of you who don’t want to pay for YouTube Red (understandable) or pirate this bitch (like we are doing), I can’t wait for you to check the series out on Netflix next week.
Anyways, fucking hell! Enough prattling about Cobra Kai. Even though it’s the berries. Berries which will taste so, so good on your tongue!
Behold! Bags playing like an absolute fucking donkey. Pulling ten dudes and then opening a cursed chest. ‘Cause nothing says “efficiency” like wiping a run because of a donkey-brained attempt like this. But! It’s not all lost. ‘Cause starting in the first video, and concluding in the second, you can see me laughing my ass off at his stupidity. While, I imagine, chat is doing the same thing.
My balls just fucking stank this summer, man. Granted, it’s warm out! And granted, they usually stank after I’ve spent an hour or so working out. But, man! They’re not a good scene. Not a good scene, at all. And it was with those stank-ass balls that I hit up the comic book store today. That’s how committed I am to the cause, my dudes. Oh, I’m two-days late to the cause? The cause of writing a weekly comic books column? Fair enough! However, I’d be even more late if I didn’t pack my perpetually lower dangling testicles into my swampy Honda Civic, and drive my ass to the shop today. So be fucking grateful! Or institute some sort of crystal-powered Smell-O-Vision in this column!
Anyways! It’s a bit of a quiet week on the comic book front. Admittedly, there’s only one new comic book I snagged. The second recommendation is a title I picked-up last week and dug! And finally? The third recommendation is a title that dropped this week, but I absolutely cannot fucking find the first three issues.
With all of that in mind, let’s Dance the Dance! So These Are Comic Books! Hit me up in the comments section with everything I’m fucking missing this week. I know, I know I’m goofing up. Mind you, be kind! Cause I got a set of testicles with your upper-lip in mind, should you act the fucking fool!
We’re getting deep into summer now, friends. With such a progression brings deeper, more rewarding dusk. However, it also brings with it shorter days, longer shadows, and hints at a Fall which promises to be seemingly chaotic at best. But as I said Monday, in the end we’re promised nothing. Nothing! Fucking nothing at all. Which means I might as well enjoy the beautiful dusks and the welcoming evenings while I can, no? Who knows what next week will bring for me. Really, for all of us. Why sweat it? And if we’re not sweating next week, let us definitely not begin to contemplate whatever the fuck is about to happen this winter.
Instead, let’s fucking hang out this weekend! Balls out in the air. Toes in the existential pool. Let’s fucking hang out, here at the Open Bar!
Back on that comic grind, back on that comic grind! Mamma mia, can I really keep up this column, So These Are Comic Books? It seems that way! But Ian, let’s not start sucking our dick already. I mean, right? Four weeks ain’t a solid commitment, and my dick ain’t anywhere near my lips. Fucking mediocre dong. Fucking inflexible ass. Still though, it’s a nice avenue for blabbering, blathering, and overall venting of my textual diarrhea. Gotta empty the ass, or the ass chakra gets too full. Begins backing-up. Flooding into the body. Causing delirium. Need them chakras clear. Need them chakras clean. If not, can I truly ascend the Astral Ladder on a Friday evening?
— and by that, I mean, get adequately high and watch horror movies? No way! No Jose!
None the less, enough about my ass. This is a comic books column, and let’s just stay the course. Whatever the fuck that course is, was, or will be. You know? Oh, you know!
Maybe, maybe I’m just stalling. ‘Cause I’m in a bit of a pickle here, this week. I’m at the stage in the comic book game where I’m struggling to piece together a pull-list. Meanwhile, I’m finding myself with an odd collection of installments in the comics worth checking out. You know how it goes. You hear about a comic book four-issues in. You saddle up to the comic book store’s wall of choice. Then you find that they have like, issues #1 and #3 of one comic series you’re interested in. As well, they got like issues #2 and #4 of another. And what the fuck are you left with? A patchwork of comics that seem interesting, but you can’t dive into yet.
Of all the things I missed about comics, I certainly didn’t miss the unpredictability of what is stocked, or the frustration at not being able to find a title you want. It really fucking ground my gears last week, when the comic shop didn’t have Strange Adventures #4. Ain’t no fault of the owner, dude is solid as fuck. Rather, it’s DC going alone on their own distribution, shorting the shop, and I didn’t get my sub request in on time.
Fuck me! Fuck me sideways and cram it in my ass.
Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’m really in-between recommendations this week. At least, as far as shit that dropped on the Scared Wednesday. But, I got a couple of things that caught my eye, and one glorious gift from Johnny Hotsauce himself.
Per usual, help me thicken, help my pull-list throb in the comments section.
Hey, friends! Apologies for the tardiness! Mea culpa, mea dumb ass. I think I butchered the Latin there, but who knows. It’s a fucking dead language. Who is going to stop me? Motherfuckers buried under the rubble of Mount Vesuvius? Some nerd Latin scholar at University? Step-up bitches, and face a Superkick Party. Anyways, I’m genuinely sorry I’m dropping this MMC on a Tuesday.
In case you’re wondering why? Man, I’m fucking fighting it this week! Fighting what? Just a general sense of existential malaise. A sexier way of describing my various chemical imbalances compounded by the flat-out Dumpster Fire that is life in the United States Just the act of sitting down and compiling words in a WordPress document seems pretty overwhelming. But, I’m here motherfuckers! Sometimes the act of just pushing through is helpful. You know? Maybe you know.
Anyways. Any-fucking-hoo, here we have Monday Morning Commute! Truth be told I’m digging a lot of shit these days, and these arts & farts are genuinely helping me through the week. So, I’ll drop them below, and I hope you’ll share your own collection of happenings and happiness-inducing activities in the comments.
This is Monday Morning Commute.
We begin to debate whether or not our hand mastery of our own dongs would carryover to providing such hand relief for other gentleman. Then we transition into our own capacity for providing dong-based oral pleasure. You know, just to take it a step further.
I have just enough to do during this summer quasi-break to be stoked for the weekends. Ya know? Just enough stress to compel me to look forward to Friday evening. Plus, you know. It’s an opportunity to hang with my wife, and my husband, and eat a truckload of preposterously unhealthy food. As well, I get to spend some time with you motherfuckers. Here, at the Weekend Open Bar! The one-stop shop for buffoonery and camaraderie every weekend.
It’s shaping up to be a good weekend for me. Weather setting the tone. The heat wave’s finally breaking here, and good god, I can open my windows. Get some of that late-summer air wafting in. Reminding me that the descent into Autumn has thankfully begun, while being warm enough to not nip out. I must confess, it’s one of my favorite times of the year. I hope you’re appreciating it as much as me! If not, well, I hope you’re at least tolerating it.