#Weekend Open Bar
Hey friends! I’m kicking open the doors to the, uh, Open Bar right quick! Trying to light the lanterns, dust off the chairs, and throw some gasoline on the hearth before Mrs. Omega gets home! So, quickly! You probably know the conceit! The Universe is Dark and Full of Horrors. But, it can feel a little less dire through the power of Hanging The Fuck Out Together. And every weekend I invite each and every member of the Space-Ship Omega to spend time together!
Share what you’re up to! Lighting some fall candles? Share what you’re looking forward to! Seeing It? Share what’s on your mind! Be it a fanciful meme, or a provocative gif.
There is, as always, one golden rule: god dammit, you’ve got to be kind.
This weekend kicks Summer square in the dick, sending it off packing. At least, emotionally. I can’t speak for temperatures, or the literal end of the summer. But after this weekend, the Pop Culture Zeitgeist turns its eyes towards football, fall, and All-Pumpkin-Everything. How does that register across your greasy tits, friends? Me? I’m fucking ready. Ready to lean deeply into Spooky Season. Football season. Hoodie season. All them fucking seasons!
It ain’t over yet, though, until this weekend! A weekend packed with cookouts, crank-downs, and coolers of adult beverages. And so, I’m stoked to enjoy the sendoff, while tapping my feet at its passing.
Nature simply does not give a fuck about us, my dudes. And if you can come to accept that, and work within it, it’s sort of freeing. What’s the Grand Plan for us? Nothing. And what does that mean? Fuck if I know. But, is it all hopeless? Fuck nah! At least not for me, an Absurdist Optimist. I’ll forge ahead. What does that mean?
Some days? It means eating an entire pizza, burping my dick into my underwear, and blogging for a couple hours.
Other days? It means mowing the lawn, patting my dog, and attempting to function like a normal human.
Oh, golly gee, oh golly gee fucking willikers! It’s the Weekend! This is the Open Bar! If you’re reading this, you’re alive! You’ve made it through another week! Or, you’re proof that there’s some sort of thin membrane we cross upon death, only to haunt others from Beyond. That said, welcome! Be you mortal, immortal. Trapped in a perpetual liminal state, or coasting towards death along with me!
Fuck me, fuck me sideways! Where am I? What was I doing?
Oh, oh yeah! Welcoming you to the weekly weekend wanking Open Bar!
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.
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.
Hey, friends! It’s me, the Captain of the Space-Ship Omega welcoming you to the beginning of the Holiday Gauntlet. No doubt, it can be a wonderful time of the year. Yet, it can also provide an impressive cavalcade of social obligations, forced-monetary expenditures, and rolling darkness. What to do, what to do? Well, for starters take a fucking breath. Then, pull up a chair around the cosmic-hearth here on the ship. You can take refuge here in the Weekend Open Bar! Herein you’ll find like-minded folk shooting the shit about their weekend.
Perhaps this weekend the conversation will center on how much money we spent on Black Friday deals. And the shotgun dropkicks we gave the elderly to procure said deals. Or, maybe we enumerate the various caloric depravities we’ve indulge in. Anything and everything goes, so long as the golden rule is not violated:
Thou shall be chill.
Hey all! Fucking late, I know. What can I say? It’s bit of a grind at the moment. The sun doesn’t exist! Oh, it doesn’t exist! But, ennui does! In my bones. But, snow does! In my backyard. I’m here now, though. So, I hope that counts for something. I’m a bit tardy, but I’m ripping open the door to the Weekend Open Bar! Come one, come all! Let’s chat this weekend around the dumpster-fires of the post-apocalypse slop-culture dystopia we live in.
What are you playing this weekend? Some Fallout 76? What are you watching this weekend? Widows? Fantastic Queefs? What are you eating? I want to know it all! I want to spend this darkened, frosty weekend with you folks, the citizens of the Space-Ship Omega!
Oh fuck! I’m a day late! But, is forgiveness offered because it’s a long weekend? Please, forgive me! Seriously though, I’m here! Here now. Here ready to party. Here ready to talk about whatever you wanna talk about. After all, that’s the point of Weekend Open Bar! To shoot the weekend shit with the other denizens of Space-Ship Omega! Let’s talk, fuckers!
Wanna talk prostate orgasms? I’m here.
Wanna talk Sam Esmail’s latest auteur masterpiece Homecoming? I’m here.
Wanna talk Red Dead Redemption 2? I’m here.
Anything and everything goes here within these madness-slickened walls.
Hey! Jesus Fuck, did we make it? To the weekend? By god, we did! And, if you’re lucky enough to have it the weekend off like me, it’s time to fucking celebrate. Let’s celebrate together, right here! At the Weekend Open Bar! It’s the weekly way station here on the Space-Station Omega! Where we all gather, sharing what we’re up to on a given weekend!