#Weekend Open Bar
Hey, friends! It’s September, and I hope you’re all settling into the transitioning of seasons. As well, apologies for not penning columns as of late. Or, rather, typing. You know. Whatever the case, transmuting thoughts into symbols which make sense to you all. I’m just in a fucking funk, man. And when that shit happens, my expression-based faculties wither. Don’t wanna do anything other than fall inwards! That said, I’m hoping to blast out the comic books column this weekend, and high-five you fuckers in here.
The source of the malaise? Asides from Dead Cells? I think it’s emanating from a general sense of anxiety about teaching online, and the sadness that comes with it. Just not stoked, man. At all!
What’s up, friends! We’re closing in on the end of summer, baby! Bummer. Bummer! However, this weekend seems pretty fucking rad, at least for me! Not only are we finally starting Dead Cells 5BC, but there’s a new Bill & Ted movie to consume! Most righteous, you know? Anyways, let’s not rub around the hole too long! Time to just go right in! In to what? Why, Weekend Open Bar.
Yeah, I butchered the mantra of Cobra Kai to kick this shit off. However, it seems more apropos for a weekend column where I encourage everyone to fucking relax. I mean, no? That said, I’m deeply entrenched in Cobra Kai’s actual mantra, especially if it means that Daniel-San is going to get his fucking nards blasted. A revelation I hope to encounter this weekend, as Bags and I dive deeper into the first season of the show named after the dojo. Fuck, guys, it’s so good. For those of you who don’t want to pay for YouTube Red (understandable) or pirate this bitch (like we are doing), I can’t wait for you to check the series out on Netflix next week.
Anyways, fucking hell! Enough prattling about Cobra Kai. Even though it’s the berries. Berries which will taste so, so good on your tongue!
We’re getting deep into summer now, friends. With such a progression brings deeper, more rewarding dusk. However, it also brings with it shorter days, longer shadows, and hints at a Fall which promises to be seemingly chaotic at best. But as I said Monday, in the end we’re promised nothing. Nothing! Fucking nothing at all. Which means I might as well enjoy the beautiful dusks and the welcoming evenings while I can, no? Who knows what next week will bring for me. Really, for all of us. Why sweat it? And if we’re not sweating next week, let us definitely not begin to contemplate whatever the fuck is about to happen this winter.
Instead, let’s fucking hang out this weekend! Balls out in the air. Toes in the existential pool. Let’s fucking hang out, here at the Open Bar!
I have just enough to do during this summer quasi-break to be stoked for the weekends. Ya know? Just enough stress to compel me to look forward to Friday evening. Plus, you know. It’s an opportunity to hang with my wife, and my husband, and eat a truckload of preposterously unhealthy food. As well, I get to spend some time with you motherfuckers. Here, at the Weekend Open Bar! The one-stop shop for buffoonery and camaraderie every weekend.
It’s shaping up to be a good weekend for me. Weather setting the tone. The heat wave’s finally breaking here, and good god, I can open my windows. Get some of that late-summer air wafting in. Reminding me that the descent into Autumn has thankfully begun, while being warm enough to not nip out. I must confess, it’s one of my favorite times of the year. I hope you’re appreciating it as much as me! If not, well, I hope you’re at least tolerating it.
Oh golly gee, friends! I gotta confess, I’m hammer this out right after writing this week’s comic books column! Which means my already bedraggled, fucking pathetic attention span is deep-fried! Really just absolutely sent to the fucking moon! But, if I don’t turn on the lights, tap the keg, and unlock the door, who will? Fucking no one! And fuck, dude! I want to hang out with you pig-sniffers, which means I really have no choice.
Thus, I’m gonna keep this son of a bitch short, sweet, and poorly edited. Let’s dance the Dance of Relaxation together this weekend, my friend! Tell me, you playing anything gripping? You eating anything gripping? You gripping anything exciting? Really just sort of tugging back and forth? I’m interested in all the details, the nitty-gritty. Let me be your confidant,. no one else will know. Save for, you know, anyone and everyone who comes across this column.
Woo! It’s motherfucking vacation for me, baby! Well, almost. My summer class has concluded, which means that all I got across the next six weeks is the occasional work at the Writing Center. Woo! Woo! Drink in the musk of my euphoria, which will slowly burn off by early evening. I mean, I had to get up at 6:30 this morning. But, fuck it! Woo! Woo! Woo! It’s all good in this realm, baby! And, I hope you motherfuckers are ready to hang out this weekend!
Let’s pop on our robes, pop off our pants, and get to it, fellas! Stylin’! Profilin’! What are you beautiful fucks up to this weekend? Playing anything dope? Reading anything worthwhile? BBQing? It’s the time of times during the week when we all hang.
It’s nudie magazine day, friends! Okay, not really. But, the fucking infectious refrain from Billy Madison is what I swing as I’m coming down the stairs every Friday. It’s such a pure, tits-powered jingle that it’s stuck with me throughout the years. And, I can’t think of any better way to kick-off the weekend! Well, other than hanging with you motherfuckers! Ha! How is that for a goddamn segue? God-Tier. Really, just pure writing prowess. Okay, okay. I know I’m a prose-based slob, but let me have this shit!
Anyways, let’s spend some time together this weekend, good friends! Right here in the Open Bar. And I must remind ya’ll beautiful pricks, we ain’t streaming this Saturday. Just one Saturday! Just this Saturday. A little break from our streaming madness. So, that means this is the only venue for chatting with me about nipple hairs. Or whether or not Bags using the phrase “genitals’ like a sociopath is weird (it is). Neither of those topics interest you?
A) What the fuck.
B) No worries!
It’s the motherfucking weekend, bay-bay! Not a moment too soon. Not a moment too late. Everything its place, as it should be. On a cosmic scale, at least And we’re being honest, as it only could be. For the Universe marches on, regardless of our consciousness and its impact upon it. That said, hey! Sort of fucking freeing, no?
Nothing matters, everything matters, and most importantly — shit’s just carrying on. So, let’s take care of one another, be it in this community, and all the other ones you belong to.
Hey friends! Happy fucking Fourth of July Weekend! I wanna open up the Bar, so we can spend some time together the next couple of days. But, I’m pressed as fuck for time! Which means I gotta do it quicker than a motherfucker. So, I’m going to ask you to come hang out! Tell me! What are you doing to celebrate, if anything? Let me know! Blowing up phalanges with fireworks? Eating seared animal flesh? Watching Jaws? I want to know!