Hey, you fucks! Here’s a couple of clips for you. First off? Honestly, one of my proudest moments playing Dead Cells on stream. I refuse to heal after that punk-ass Conjunctivius fully infects me with malaise. Come for my dodging and dancing, stay for Bags’ amazing reaction to it all.

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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!

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Behold! Bags playing like an absolute fucking donkey. Pulling ten dudes and then opening a cursed chest. ‘Cause nothing says “efficiency” like wiping a run because of a donkey-brained attempt like this. But! It’s not all lost. ‘Cause starting in the first video, and concluding in the second, you can see me laughing my ass off at his stupidity. While, I imagine, chat is doing the same thing.

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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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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!

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We begin to debate whether or not our hand mastery of our own dongs would carryover to providing such hand relief for other gentleman. Then we transition into our own capacity for providing dong-based oral pleasure. You know, just to take it a step further.

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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.

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FUCK your curse and FUCK your elite, Dead Cells. The One Pixel Kid comin’ through. He’s giving no fucks and taking no hits.

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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.

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Hello, good friends! How is it going? Hope you’re staying healthy, hope you’re staying cool. There’s an absolute fucking monstrosity of a heat wave plastering the Northeast, and I’m realizing taking my daily two-mile walk was not the best idea. Said realization stemming from what can only be described as a scorched-ass feel from my unadorned cheeks. But, fuck! You know how it goes, dudes. I need my steps on the regular! Without a campus to canvas, it’s way too easily to let my pallid ass (a lot of me is tanned — my ass, and accompanying asshole? pale) fall into a sedentary lifestyle.

However, I’m paying the tab for it right now. A cruel mistress, nature happens to be. A beautiful one as well, though. What must be understood, what must be accepted, though — is she bargains with no one.

Anyways! Outside of a sun-raked skull-piece, I’m doing well. Today marks the true beginning of my pseudo-vacation. And dammit, I’m feeling better already. I’m sleeping, I’m more relaxed, Reality and All Its Horrors seem a bit more endurable. However,  I don’t know if it’s disappointing to know that this isn’t how I always feel, you know? Like, this certainly isn’t my typical disposition. Or rather, my disposition during the middle of the semester. That said, at the same time? Perhaps I wouldn’t appreciate these moments of placidity if they were the norm. That said, at the same-same-same time? That’s probably the perspective the Endless Behemoth of Industry and Cultural Commands To Hustle To Death want me to fall for!

Eh, what the fuck can you do? Enjoy the moment, motherfuckers. It’s really all that’s promised our asses, anyways.

This is Monday Morning Commute!

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