Monday Morning Commute: Summer breeze makes me feel fine

monday morning commute summer breeze

Summer breeze, makes me feel fine! A little Type O Negative across your tits to get this column started! Seriously though, we’re in the glorious days of the summer. The faint hint of upcoming death in the air. Deeper dusks. A cool summer breeze wafting in through the windows at night. Windows which we can finally open up, at least around here. It’s pleasant, pleasant as fuck. In fact, mid-August kicks off my favorite time of the year here in the Northeast portion of the Empire.

How are you folks doing, this August 18th? I hope you’re hanging in there. ‘Cause it ain’t easy right now, I imagine for any of us.

So, let’s huddle together, motherfuckers! Let’s share what indulgences we’re indulging in across this indolent portion of the year! What the fuck you reading? What the fuck you listening to? Playing anything dope? Watching anything excellent? Hit my ass up in the comments!

That is, after I first bombard your butt holes with my own bombastic choices!

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Monday Morning Commute: The Stalking Truth of Michael Myers

monday morning commute stalk you

Hey, folks! What’s going on? It’s Monday? Again? That soon? Well, time don’t stop! And neither shall we! Until, of course, we do stop. The lightning, the electricity done. The metaphysical whatever-whatever either not existing, or taking over. Man, this got away from me quickly. Where was I? Oh yeah!  It’s time for Monday Morning Commute. The weekly wank-off where we all gather, sharing what is getting us through yet another week on the Blue Marble.

What are you fucks up to this week, as you suck air? What are you folks looking forward to this week, as your synapses still sizzle?

I wanna know!

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Views From The Space-Ship: autumn arrives on austere winds

autumn arrives on austere winds

It’s finally kind of, sort of, autumn here in the Northeastern arm of the Empire. The wind has gotten crispy, the leaves have gotten crispy, the heaters have gotten crispy. I’m excited! Stoked, even. I must, however, I must not glance at the weather for the upcoming week. For I shall see, I know I shall see, yet another spike in the temperature.

I’m tired of sweating, dudes. I’m tired of my balls smelling like a Dagobah swamp, dudes. Ready for the death of it all, ready to pray to the Ones That Don’t Exist that I get to witness the rebirth of it all.

But that’s neither here nor there. Or, wait, is it actually both Here and There?

Anyways, anyways, blah blah blah. This is Desktop Thursdays. A look into the life of yours truly, GarbageLord and Steward of the Space-Ship Omega. I hope you’ll share your own life in the comments section.

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Weekend Open Bar: Ba De Ya – Dancing In September

weekend open bar dancing in september

Oh, Oh, Oh! Dancing in September! Welcome to Weekend Open Bar! And it’s a uniquely special one, at least on the annual tip. It’s the first Weekend Open Bar of my favorite time of year. Mother. Fucking. Fall. Though not officially penetrating the calendar until later this month, this weekend begins a maelstrom of miscellany during the upcoming week which officially signals it for yours truly. So I’m lighting the autumn candles, slipping into a hoodie, and wanking it to rotting leaves, spectral forms populating our general psyche, gridiron collisions, and blockbuster games dropping.

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Views From The Space-Ship: Waist Bands Are Fascists


Oh, hey! It’s Desktop Thursday on a Thanksgiving! It’s been a wild week, an eventful week, a wild and eventful day! But now I’m back at home, after a day of eating and footballing. In some comfy pants, my stomach bloat a minor nuisance now that I’ve been relieved from being stuffed into a pair of slim fit khakis. Fuck am I thinking wearing them? Fuck am I thinking wearing them?!

But, oh, hey! It’s Desktop Thursday! The weekly column where I share my worlds! Be it the header image representing my mindscape! Be it the images below, showing you me world(s), both real and virtual!

I hope! Oh, I hope, you’ll share your own world(s) in the comments section!

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Monday Morning Commute: You Are Here

you are here

A boom, boom, boom, let me hear you say the World is On Fire and All Effort to Correct Its Faults are Futile so Let’s Dance as the Palaces Burn!

Can I hear you say it? Are you saying it? Screaming it?

Screaming it as your white-knuckled rage is consuming you, screaming and screaming and screaming. Screaming as your throat rips, as your lungs burst, as your eyes dilate beyond capacity.

Can I hear you say it? Are you saying it? Screaming it?

Screaming it as your heart explodes, as your moment in time-space rips, as the Void collapses in, on, around, within you.

Can I hear you say it? Are you saying it? Screaming it?

No? You’re just sort of sitting at your computer? In your sweatpants? A thick, honeyed malaise slathered over you?


Me too.

So let’s embrace this rejection of the rejection together. Let’s share what we’re enjoying this week, these enjoyments specifically designed to keep us from screaming.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Weekend Open Bar: We Can Do Better

i can show you the worlds

It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby! And piggybacking off last week’s belief that sometimes the longest weeks are the shortest ones, these past five days of work-grind have flown by far quicker than last week’s Genocide-Sponsored Shortened Sequence. Where did the time go? Where does the time go? Who gives a flying futz, so long as the weekend gets here with alacrity!

With the weekend comes this column, Weekend Open Bar. The weekly descent into banality, joviality, and camaraderie! Step on in with me! Share what you’re doing these next couple of days! Are you watching Sport? Are you playing Game? Are you drinking Adult Sodas? Do you have a Gif or a Musing or a Recipe?

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Views From The Space-Ship: ourneuronsarestarmaps


Welcome to another edition of View From The Space-Ship. Your unfortunate opportunity to view the world through the eyes of an over-caffeinated, bi-polar subversive educator whose friends who are too talented, wife is too brilliant, and life is probably too good for him. Per usual I invite you to share your own views of the world.

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Monday Morning Commute: Oblivion Ain’t Bad With A Loved One

Hand in Hand | Heart to Heart

Hello friends. Humanoids. Martians. Sentient cups of coffee. Pythons with overdeveloped cerebral systems courtesy of Nazi experiments still being conducted on the Far Side of the Dark Side of the Forgotten Moon of Jupiter, Rapture. If you’re reading this, I implore you to join in this wonderful column-based activity. Monday Morning Commute. The place where us Conscious Piles of Organic, Inorganic, and Unidentifiable Matter gather and share what we’re digging on during a given week.

I’ll go first, then you share your weekly beloveds.

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Monday Morning Commute: Murder Walk With Me


In short, because I’m fucking busy! This is Monday Morning Commute. The cavernous post at the end of the Internet where we all share what we’re up to during a given week. The arts and distractions that are helping us Mind The Grind. Spittin’ about our anxiety-laden lives because of Said Grind. Maybe a random anecdote about the time your donger got caught in that chalupa (is this a euphemism? I don’t know!) in the Taco Bell bathroom.

I’ll go first.

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