You can almost feel the balls tightening and the labia clenching over at Warner Bros. While Avengers is raking in the glorious money stacks, their only viable comic book franchise just lost its director and lead. Not only that, but the mind behind the Marvel Movie Universe is the dude they nixed from helming a Wonder Woman flick. Alas. So WB is on their grind with the Justice League flick, hoping to ride some of the superteam zeitgeist. As they go to cast the son of a bitch, a familiar name is popping up in consideration for the Bruce Wayne Man.

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Ms. Marvel in Avengers 2? Frak yeah. Carol Danvers is a goddamn fantastic character. As a hell of a strong female lead, she is just sort of lass that Whedon would gravitate towards. Here is hoping there is something to this rumor. Especially if Emily Blunt is in consideration. Coming out of Looper, make mine Blunt. Or something. Should probably just let that saying die.

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Wreck-It Ralph isn’t playing fair. It is working all sorts of pink, squishy geek lands. Furiously rubbing and manipulating them until those of us who grew up gaming can’t help but arch our back and unleash a torrent of blissful cinematic goo.

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The best way to describe Bruce Willis is that when he wants to do it, B-Willy can bring the charisma. Dude did it in Looper, and maybe I’m jumping the gun but I’m feeling his perma-schtick in this trailer as well. Now uh, do we know what this shit is rated?

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I know this news article should be about how the people behind Captain America: Unthaw Bucky and Let Him Fuck Stuff Up are coming close to casting the female lead. I know it. On an intellectual level. But all I want to do is talk about how excited I am that I’m going to get to rub at my jeans while Black Widow prances across the screen during the flick. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m not.

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Double the movies, double the dough. I get why the studios have been splitting finales into halves. It makes a lot of financial sense. Thematically? Eh, I’m not so sure. Though, if there was a book that needed more room to breathe, it was the conclusion to Hunger Games. Maybe this is a good thing. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? This is double Jennifer Lawrence.

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I don’t give a fuck. My shitty puns are your bowel movements are my small moments of job. Marc Webb has been confirmed to direct the sequel to this summer’s quiet little superhero flick, and that’s all good to me. While I don’t have a particular love the vehicle, it had a lot of HEAHHHT and Emma Stone. People came down on it with hammers and claws, but they were just bitter assholes rightfully annoyed at how quickly the thing had been rebooted. Sure, the plot was a fudgy diaper. The plot for Avengers was too, and that didn’t stop people from throwing rope all over that film.

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Oh god! Patrick Stewart is bald! Professor X is bald! They both have legs! Some of those legs work. Some of those don’t. Now Patrick Stewart is returning to the role of Professor X, and I am totally over it. I’ve moved beyond the initial X-Men franchise, which has aged about as well as twice-digested cheese in the sun.

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Peter Jackson is getting his thematic harmony on. Or someone in the marketing department. Whatever the case, the new poster for The Hobbit: Part 1 of 17 has dropped, and it is reminiscent of the LOTR posters of yore. Like a long time ago. Or a decade. Eleven years? Something.

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He’d read all about Transcender’s journey to Saturn, and the havoc that was wreaked upon that that hotel. It upset his constitution to think that the System’s savior, the genetically-perfected designed to fend off nether-threats, could be derailed so easily. And by such trifles, nonetheless. Alcohol. Women. Drug-beams. All of the vices that, according to many, had done in Earth in the first place.

To the moonbeam death-child, Transcender Yonder had lost his way. Which may have been true. But as seven-year old, there ain’t no way he could understand Transcender’s appreciate of fine pussy and bourbon.

Headphones clamped on tight, the moonbeam death-child tried to tune out his negative thoughts. Rather than dwell on the various ways he’d like to torture Earth’s mightiest drunkard – testicle-electrocution, force-fed glass sandwiches, and atomic bombings at the top of the list – he made his peace with the omniverse. Heck, three songs in, the moonbeam death-child laughed at the thought that people didn’t always realize that music aligns the brainwaves to the same frequencies that neutrinos use to slip between dimensions.

How comical!

So relaxed by the music was the child that he fell into a deep slumber. So relaxed was this slumber that he didn’t notice the blanket being draped over his listless frame. And so gentle was the draping that he smiled the hearty grin of the runt who’s looked after by the alpha male.

Transcender Yonder was finally home, and was glad to see that his moonbeam death-child, whether or not he’d admit it, didn’t hate him.

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Thanks for checking out the Monday Morning Commute! This is the spot where I ramble about the make-believe and the real-believe alike, sharing with you the various ways I’ll be entertaining myself throughout the workweek. After you peep my means of destroying ennui, hit up the comments section and share yours. C’mon, you know how it is – work sucks, life rules, let’s party until we’re dead!

Are you ready to rock?

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