Oh come all ye faithful. How are your colons? How are your livers? Are your guts sated? Is your wallet mutilated? Did your loved one feel that you established your love for them adequately? I hope all of you are doing wonderful. I had a splendid weekend. I got a crap load of gifts, spent the entirety of Christmas evening on the toilet with gut-clenching diarrhea and then saw Sherlock Holmes on Saturday evening. Let’s do the math! Material possessions that make me warm + warm goop coming out of my ass + Robert Downey Jr. with his shirt off? Yeah dude, I had a fucking great weekend.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

Oh shiznit, fucking Monday before Christmas. I’m fucking excited for Christmas. It’s one of the more socially acceptable periods where you can be an utter disgusting fat ass. Pretty much everyone just eats to the point where they are rocketing awful, soul-crushing shits. Speaking of which, I’d like to mic half the toilets in the world during this time, and mix them into a caccophony of shit burst and groans of pain. I have absolutely no idea why that thought just came to me while I was typing this.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

What the fuck is up, fools. How is life? It’s an ashen paradise over here in the suburbs of Massachusetts. The sky is alternating between a teasing blue and a gray pall that reminds me that it’ll be a long, long time before I’m able to piss outside in the middle of the night without it steaming up and hitting my feel. Good god damn! Fuck that noise! Et cetera. I ain’t started my Christmas shopping, but I’m not worried. You’re all getting pictures of my genitalia and ginger snaps. I want you to barf onto the pictures. You’re welcome.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

I don’t really want to talk about anything anymore, other than Final Fantasy XIII. It’s okay though, because I misinterpret signals. For instance, with your dull expression and glazed eyes, I’m assuming that you’re totally stoked that I’m rambling about it again. Like, how, you know, Lightning is totally sweating on me. And she’s gorgeous. And I bet she has like a futuristic spaceship, and she listens to Mastodon, and she seriously loves when I fart and get crumbs everywhere.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

This just in dickheads! You’re probably bloated and hungover from a steady diet of carbohydrates and consumerism from the past Thanksgiving weekend. Yeah, me too. While I don’t regret socking the elderly woman in the tits because she took the fucking last copy of Wii Fitness Masturbate Your Way To Toned Arms, I never expected her to die on the spot. And therefore, this cell is lonely and cold, but I’m glad that the local Starbucks next to the police station has free WiFi and they’ve let me use my iPhone.

LOL JK.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

What up, playahs?! And a happy preemptive Thanksgiving to all your asses too! If you’re like me, you’re going to spend this week eating five-hundred pounds of mashed potatoes, sneezing on blankets and giving them to Native Americans, and punching an old lady out in Walmart at 5 am on Friday morning so you can get that fucking deal on the new Nintendobox Wii-3.

Seriously though, it’s that special time of the year again. And by that time, I mean when the temperature drops, the sun goes away, and I spend all night getting salsa in my beard as I eat my way into hibernation shape. Kiss a loved one, fire up a video game, and count the months until your testicles/ovaries won’t shrivel into non-functioning status if you stay outdoors for a prolonged period of time.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

This is the week before we all put on seven-hundred and fifty-five pounds at Thanksgiving. And then spend a trillion, zillion dollars on sweet stuff we probably don’t need. I want a pony.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

That lumbering drone you hear emanating from the hills is the bone-crunching soul smasher that is the new installment of the Modern Warfare franchise ready to fucking rock. Activision, between owning Blizzard and Infinity Ward, is probably close to building their moon laser or some crazy shit.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »

Halloween is fucking done! Now what? Eh! We kill time until we eat ourselves fucking sick. And then we’re like “Oh yeah, and we’re thankful and shit. For commercialism and reality television and killing the Native Americans with ratty towels and shit.”

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide. Keep Reading »

This is the lovely week of Halloween! Let me tell you something, as much as Pepsibones apparently loves the holiday, I couldn’t give less of a fuck. Here’s what I’ll be enjoying aside from dressing up as something shitty and playing beer pong on Saturday evening.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Keep Reading »