Monday Morning Commute: We’re In The Endgame(s) Now

monday morning commute endgames now

We’re in the endgames now, my friends. With the crushing realization that the MCU As We Know It has about ten days left (less if you’ve seen the leaks), I’m beginning to descend into melancholic nostalgia. However, it isn’t just the MCU that’s wrapping things up. Nope! Johnny Wick‘s third and seemingly final adventure is right around the corner, and Game of Thrones‘ final season began on Sunday.

All three of those are reason for me to pause and mourn, but it ain’t all bad news. You see, I’m also staring at less than a month left in the semester. Won’t catch me crying over its demise, though. No way! No how!

Anyways, how the fuck are you? This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where we gather to share what we’re enjoying on a given week. As well, we babble about what’s dropping over the course of the next seven days that has us hype.

I’ll go first!

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Views From The Space-Ship: The Oasis From The Stasis

desktop thursdays the oasis from the stasis

It’s Desktop Thursday, my dudes! The blog installment where I puke up some putrid portrayals of my tangible and intangible existence. Additionally, it’s the weekly invitation, nay, challenge to show me your world! Splay your existence across the comments section. Write large your own banality, buffoonery, benevolence! ‘Cause community is all we got in this hardened, coarsened, spiraling madness of a world. Let this community, this commune, this gathering aboard the Space-Ship Omega be your oasis from the stasis that is modernity.

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Weekend Open Bar: Sex Is A Metaphor

weekend open bar

It’s the Weekend! Fuck yes. Forty+ hours of work, a lung-filling cold, a leaking bung-bung, none of this can stem my excitement! Now begins the restorative forty-eight hours of nonsense that allows me to momentarily forget the beef-and-phalange grinder that is the work week. This is Weekend Open Bar. The column of pure nonsense. Post the GIFs you find. Share drunken stories. Stumble in here and share dumb loot you find in dumb video games. It doesn’t fucking matter, just chat. Come with me! Literally! Figuratively! Join me!

Monday Morning Commute: Dyin’ to Sleep

Come one, come all! Step right up to the original MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the place where all of you scabby bastards and frothing broads take a peek at what I’ll be doing to get through the workweek. Your task is to then share the activities to which you’ll be dedicating your free time, even if they make your step-mom mumble to herself that you’re doing the Devil’s bizznezz.

Hell, that hoe married your pop for his thickee, so who is she to cast aspersions?

Let’s dance.

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Monday Morning Commute: By My Corrupt Soul!

Hey there, welcome to Monday – the worst fucking day of the workweek! Tuesdays see the release of CDs and DVDs. Wednesdays are sacred, as comic books are released. Thursday is the last real workday, the final chance for bosses to make requests without being scoffed at. And Friday is a goddamn party – beers are drank and the ghettoblaster is cranked!

So how do we get through this most abysmal of days, this return to drudgery and serfdom? Well, we rock the Monday Morning Commute! This is the spot where I share what I’ll be doing in the upcoming days.

After you see which bits of entertainment form my anti-stress forcefield, it’s your duty to hit up the comments and tell me about your forcefield.

Let’s do this!

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Monday Morning Commute: memory-ill day


Broadcasting from Omega Station Monstar on this most glorious of three-day weekends, I present MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This weekly post is my excuse to show off the various ways I’ll be entertaining myself through the workweek. After you read about how I’m going tranquilize my desires to scream “BURN IT DOWN!” while crashing an ice cream truck into the post office, you should then hit up the comments section and tell me what you’re up to.

If I don’t have new things to do, there’s a strong chance the mail’s going to be late this week.

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Monday Morning Commute: DESTROY APATHY!

Spark a cigarette and pour a drink – you’ve made it home after the first day of the workweek! Congratulations! You’ve only got to get through that 9-5 shitstorm four more times until the weekend! And from there it’s only a few more decades before you either retire into poverty or die! Ta-dah!

Fugg that, son. Life’s a glorious experiment, so let’s dance in the laboratory and smash some beakers! This here’s the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, a weekly post dedicated to combating ennui. If you fear that you’re becoming one of the flesh-and-blood automatons that chokes Wonder to death, hop into this refugee-camp. I’m going to show you what I’m doing to destroy apathy.

If you’re daring, you’ll hit up the comments section and do the same.

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Monday Morning Commute: One Life at a Time

Dark days have descended upon the workweek. Just as the work continues to pile up, I come home feeling fatigued. Although a nap provides momentary refuge, when I return to fight the beast I find it just as formidable but ten times as pissed off. I forge ahead, knowing that that at the end of this five-day torture rack, I will fumble, exhausted and smiling, into a week-long vacation.

Don’t think I’m complainin’ – I know that most jobs don’t include occasional weeks off. But rest assured, my weeks off and relatively low wages are now considered by many the real problem with the nation’s budget. Yeah, it’s totally not the million-dollar missiles we’re hurling at countries whose conflicts we have no reason to get involved in.

Shit. I’m grandstanding. Back to the point. Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute, the spot where I show you what I’m doing this week. If all goes to plan, you then get so excited that you hit up the comments and share YOUR plans. Give’n’take, get it?




Rockin’/The Parallax: Hypersleep Dialogues

BTBAM’s new EP drops tomorrow and I couldn’t be more excited. Okay, to be fair, I downloaded the leak last week, but there’s something about actually purchasing a CD that gets me fuggin’ amped. Artwork?! JEWEL CASE?! Wait, A DIGI-PACK!?!? OH SHIT!

Anyways, this three-song, thirty-minute release is goddamn dense. I’ve listened to it the full way through more than a few times, and I hear new bits every damn time. I think bassist Dan Briggs deserves mad respect – his parts fit cohesively into the audio canvas, but are kooky and insane when you listen for them.

This shit is like Bitches Brew for a new generation.

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