[WEEKEND OPEN BAR: The one-stop ramble about anything weekend post at OL. Tell us how drunk you are. Or about a comic you bought. Something you saw at the local Target while buying three pounds of Laffy Taffy.]

All right so last weekend’s open bar experiment didn’t really go that well. Truthfully, nothing really goes over that well on the weekend. All of ya’ll are out being human beings, interacting with the other rounds of animated flesh-pods. I can’t blame you for that.

What’s shaking?

Wherever this was taken must have been a shit show. Jaime Lannister and Louis CK inhabiting the same relative area can result in nothing less than the decimation of brain-pieces and internal organs everywhere, cutting a swath of juicy organic matter covering the walls.

Behold the House of Wonder! Hot off their event where the Superheroes Punch Each Other: Wasn’t Civil War A Couple of Years Ago?, they’re going to have the Punisher be morally ambiguous and take issue with other superheroes! Breathe it in!, the horror of fart-scented mediocrity.

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There’s something to be said for taking advice of the locals.

Now, I’m not enough of a daredevil to suggest that indigenous peoples are always lookin’ out for the tourists. There’re more than a few cases of an innocuous wayfarer being purposefully misdirected by the natives. Hell, I can tell you from experience that if you get lost on the way to Mos Eisley, don’t ask any Jawas for help.  I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, but Threepio was right when he called them “Disgusting creatures!”

But for Pete’s sake, don’t be one of those turkeys who goes on an adventure and then searches for the stuff you have at home! That’s total bogwash! Why even leave the front door?

So if it’s your first time venturing into a land whose citizens seem trustworthy, follow their lead. Even those who’ve led mundane lives will be able to steer you towards the essentials. So park your pride and incredulity under your bottom lip, and simply go to where you’ve been told you can find the region’s best burgers, babes, and beers.

When Rome, do as the Romans (and when in Hell, do shots at the bar).

During my recent trek through the Canadian Maritimes, I posed a simple question to anyone who I thought might have the answer (for the most part, this meant winos and women of ill-repute): “What’s the best Canadian beer?”

Without failure, they’d size me up, pausing for an extra moment at my ostentatious hi-tops, and then say in a tone that belied the thought that I could be an honest-to-Vishnu beer-drinker, “You’re goin’ to want to drink Alexander Keith’s.”

Tonite, from the porch of a farmhouse in Nova Scotia, I’m drinkin’ Alexander Keith’s Dark Ale.

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It takes a very particular mindset to get behind this sort of trailer. I just so happen to possess that mindset, eagerly ready to engage in violence and sex with uncomfortable aplomb.

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Deep space asteroids are out there, folks. They’re lurking. Taking their time. Waiting for us to get complacent. Right when we think we’ve got the entire cosmos to ourselves, they’re going to launch their asses through gravity and physics right at our precious Blue Marble. One non-profit wants to help prevent this.

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Buh! Wha? I didn’t know that Becky Cloonan was rocking out on Batman. Praise be to the Pencil Gods! Here’s a peak at her work on The Bat-Man #12, which is an epilogue to the whole Court of the Owls storyline that Snyder has been riffing on since the title relaunched in the New 52. Can’t fucking wait, man.

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This isn’t so much a knock on the sales of Gears of War, which have been as colossal as the entire franchise is one deep Freudian blow job. No, no. Instead it’s a commentary on how fucking profitable a successfull iOS can be.

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Oh gosh I’m totally sold on Wayne and Kyle kicking ass together. It’s just a combination of hope and projection, but everything they’ve shown with the two has the chemistry (and my groin) throbbing.

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You want to like Boba Fett all did up in Shogun armor. You really, really do. It’s gorgeous as fuck, combining the righteous of the shogun with the swagger of the Boba. Then you remember that Boba Fett ain’t nothing but a clone of some ass-clown that Mace Windouche decapitated.