Back to life, friends. Back to reality. At least, for people like me who are fortunate enough to have spent the last week wallowing in excess and friendship. So I have returned to reality, and I’m currently sitting in a very quiet Writing Center, writing very quietly.
None the less.
Hello, friends! It’s Weekend Open Bar! Pull a chair up to the hearth. Summon your favorite chemicals from the servo-droid behind the counter. Pop off your pants, oh, I know, they’re a bit tight from this week’s corpulence. And relax! Just straight-up fucking relax with me. Your co-host, your champion, your spirit-guide. Let us move together through a miasma of revelry, consumption, contemplation, and companionship.
What are you up to this weekend, comrades? Shoving any old ladies out of the way for a discounted blender at TarMart? Catching up on any stories on the TeleVisor? Trying to rationalize the utter depravity that is your diet these past few days?
Welcome back to Monday Morning Commute! Missed it last week. Was away. Being on a “honeymoon” with the “love of my life” doing “cool things.” Naw — I’m just fucking around. It was pretty fantastic. But here I am. A year-and-a-half journey has come to its end and now SAM-OMEGA and I “on to the next chapter of our life”, which hopefully doesn’t “cost thousands upon thousands of dollars” to live out like the previous one.