Babies and gents, please don’t forget this one fact. Hell, if you forget this, you’re really up the creek, `cause humanity’s been leaning on it since we done sloughed ourselves out of the primordial muck. Without this truism – no matter how you want to take it and run with it – we’re bound to fall face-first into the sludge of post-history and asphyxiate on the our own shortsightedness.

HOPE IS ABOVE THE HORIZON.

God? Space travel? Giant griffins that’ll swoop down, snatch us up with their pillowed talons, and nurture us in their super-nests? Could be. All I know is that we’re not going to actualize the potential of the collective unconscious by grinding ourselves down at jobs we hate.

So on that note, welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the spot where I show off the various wares I’ll be using to safeguard my mind from ennui and work-related dementia. After you take a peek, hit up the comments section and share your own recipe for the Entertainment Cocktail de huit jours.

Faux-French? Goddamn, let’s just get to this.

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This here is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, the spot where I explain what I’ll be up to in the following days. We all hate the workweek, so let’s share what we do to get through it. Kinship. Solidarity. Pizza?

After you check out my basket of goodies, show off the wares you’ll use to ward off the stress of daily livin’.

Let’s rock!

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Come one, come all! Step right up to the original MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the place where all of you scabby bastards and frothing broads take a peek at what I’ll be doing to get through the workweek. Your task is to then share the activities to which you’ll be dedicating your free time, even if they make your step-mom mumble to herself that you’re doing the Devil’s bizznezz.

Hell, that hoe married your pop for his thickee, so who is she to cast aspersions?

Let’s dance.

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Every morning I take two pills so that I don’t die.

Most mornings, I whiz through the first twenty minutes of consciousness on zombie-autopilot, totally unaware of what I’m doing. I know there’s some sort of   routine at work, but I don’t actually think about it.

rub sleep out of eyes.stretch.take two pills so that I don’t die.pound yogurt.shower.brush teeth.dress myself.go to work.

By the time I’m cognizant of the surrounding world, my car is pulling into the parking lot. I get out of the driver’s seat, sigh, and then submit my soul for a work day’s worth of bondage.

But some mornings, because I’ve been interrupted in the middle of a REM cycle or an act of Providence has flown my way or the Omnidimensional Creator owes me a favor, I’m aware from the moment I awake. I take the time to think about what I’m doing, and the early-morning September mists amplify every emotion. Vanilla yogurt isn’t just sustenance, it’s an Earth-shattering flavor-quake. Brushing my teeth isn’t just a part of daily hygiene, it’s a rhythmic exercise. Taking two prescription pills isn’t just a health-choice, it’s a terrifying realization.

Every morning I take two pills so I don’t die. And when I think about it, I’m so fucking thankful to still be alive. My heart’s still pumping and my mouth’s still running, and I don’t want to waste this gift. So let’s take killer rips of black coffee, headbang to metal, and high-five one another as much as possible.

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Step right up, folks! This ‘ere is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, OL’s weekly feature in which I show you what I’ll be doing to survive until the weekend. After I run you through my entertainment gamut, you’re to hit up the comments section and show off your own articles of awesome.

It’s digital show-and-tell at its most abject.

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It’s Monday.

Driving to work this morning, I saw a BMW pulled over in the breakdown lane. Hazards flashing. Black smoke billowing out from under the hood. The middle-aged driver pulled himself through the open sunroof, stood upright as though he were First Man emerging from the primordial birth canal, shook his balled-up fist at the sky, and let loose a guttural wail that cut through the nonsense-talkers inside of my radio-box. His briefcase was launched onto a station wagon, in the process cracking its windshield and scaring the illegal immigrants riding inside. He then slipped, fell off of the roof, and got to his feet just in time to spit blood into my open passenger side window as I drove by.

In my rear view, I saw him whip out his dick while strangling himself with his tie.

It’s Monday.

As such, it’s my pleasure to welcome you to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the spot where we share our panaceas for work-induced ennui and existential fatigue. After I show you the cocktail I’ll be using, hit up the comments section and show off your own self-medications.

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Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the feature I use as an excuse to showcase the various debris that’ll be keeping my brain-bone lubricated so as to avoid jamming up at the hands of the workweek. Some Mondays, I write a little story beforehand as a creative writing exercise and preface the post with it. On other Mondays, I start the post by jotting down an amusing anecdote

And then there’re those Mondays when I’m so tired that my eyes are burning and I don’t have any goddamn coffee filters so kickstarting my creativity with a caffeine-defibrillator isn’t an option and all I want to do is pass out and wake up in 2013 so that I can laugh at all those fucking doomsayers and tell them that their apocalypse wasn’t even worth being awake for.

Guess what kind of Monday today is.

Quit’yer dinkin’ around, let’s do this.

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It’s Labor Day, so hopefully none of you are reading this after having put in a full day’s work. Today is the last HURRAH!, the final chance to high-five Summer before he starts putting his suitcases into the trunk of his car. Don’t worry, he’ll be back next year to regale us with hot-dogs and sunburns and countless hours of molasses-paced baseball. Everything’s going to be all right.

Besides, I can already see Autumn’s car down the road. He’s cruising towards us in a pickup truck full of pumpkins and foliage and warm apple pies. So as long as we stay strong during Summer’s departure, we’ll be fine.

Okay, let’s cut to the chase – this is the Monday Morning Commute, the spot where I show you all of the goodies that’re going to get me through the workweek in one piece. After you check out my wares, hit up the comments and show off your own ennui-destroyers.

Time to dance, beetle-breath.

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And a sexy good evening to you all. It’s a perfect, perfect  August evening here in the East Coast of the Empire. Crickets chirping, baseball dully playing in the background. A dew-dropped cold Dew in my hands. I can’t complain, I can’t complain. Now what am I doing here? I don’t want you to think that this column is the Omega Brothers’ slam pig, getting passed around. No sir.

You see the Rendar moved out yesterday, and he’s sans internet and with a lot to do. So I’m tagging in. A guest appearance.

This is  MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE,  the column where you and me give a run down of the arts, sights, and enjoyments that are keeping us loving the universe. Or at least surviving our status as glorious cogs.

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Hey-oh! Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE — OL’s attempt to curb the blow that is the workweek! I’m going to give you the rundown on what I’ll be doing in the upcoming days to protect my soul from drudgery and malarkey. Your mission is to hit up the comments section and show off your own entertainment survival kit.

What’s in it? Movies? Music? Candy bars and porno? Let us know!

So c’mon kiddies, gather `round!

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You have arrived at the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE — OL’s weekly celebration of fending off bad-vibes with fuzzy-feelings. I’m going to show you which bits of mindrot I’ll be ingesting in the hopes of adding some essence to my existence. After peeking at my goodies, you’re encouraged to hit up the comments section and lay out the modes of escapism you’ll be employing in the upcoming days.

In other words, it’s a game of show-and-tell.

Let’s do this.

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