#Weekend Open Bar
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!
Happy Halloweekend, dick heads! Today, my students informed me this weekend, is in fact, Halloweekend. The more know you. I mean, college students use any reason to get hammered. That said, I imagine this will be a weekend of revelry for many, whilst dressed up like assholes and toolbags.
I mean that lovingly, of course.
I’ll be dressed up as well, of course.
Salutations, fellow denizens of the Space-Ship Omega. It is I, your over-caffeinated, mentally-compromised captain! Why, when I’m not hurtling us into the gaping maw of echo-chamber buffoonery, talking about my own dick (and how it pumped, oh did it pump for the Doom Eternal gameplay), and generally embarrassing myself, I like to open up the Open Bar on the weekend! I know, oh do I know. I’m infrequent these days. Apologies all around. Here, here. Take a moist, poorly-wrapped candy from my pocket. Here, here. Take an I.O.U, redeemable for approximately one brutal high-five and chest-bump.
Welcome to Weekend Open Bar, my friends!
I’m not dead, not sad, just busy these days my friend! That said, I apologize! How the fucking fuck have you fucking folks been? Me? I feel eerily content. Not euphoric which is rare, not happy which is fleeting, but generally content. I can’t explain it. Or, rather, I suppose I can. Teaching is fantastic, my diet is good, I’m getting a lot of sleep and exercise, and by god, I swear it, yoga fucking works.
And a pleasant Weekend Open Bar to you all, as well! How’s it going, anyways? Hope you’re as lucky as me, to have the next couple of days to convalesce. And if you don’t? May you find the strength to punch the fucking weekend work day squarely in the throat! Indeed, indeed! Maybe you find the strength to axe-kick its compromised organs, and drink from its futility! Fuck, fuck. I was trying to come in here floaty, relaxed from yoga. That’s a thing I’m doing now, I guess.
Going to my wife’s class on Friday evenings.
I’m as basic and as privileged as they come, but, what do you want from me? I hope some sort of meta, tactic acknowledgement of this can salve my weeping wound which has burst open from leaning into Generica.
If I’m being honest, I’ve been staring at this fucking blank text box for about a half-an-hour. Intermittently, I’ll hop on tumblr, stare at some asses, and pop back. Waiting, you see, for something to say. But, I don’t have anything! Not today. No friends, no way. I suppose I could prattle on about how I’m happy it’s the Weekend. So fucking happy, too.
So fucking happy, too, despite the fact that it was a short workweek. However, I think this happiness stems from the fact that I genuinely despise my job these days. Not the teaching part. That’s fucking fantastic. Rather, the other miscellany I must put myself through to pay the bills, because the life of an adjunct is tenuous at best. I don’t know! I don’t, seriously. I exist in a weird liminal state these days. I’m between teaching in the Spring, and teaching my summer class. As well, I’m between the Spring semester I just taught, and figuring out what I’m going to do next Spring.