#February2019

Weekend Open Bar: Call The Ball, Dickhead

weekend open bar call the ball

Oh, golly gee, oh golly gee fucking willikers! It’s the Weekend! This is the Open Bar! If you’re reading this, you’re alive! You’ve made it through another week! Or, you’re proof that there’s some sort of thin membrane we cross upon death, only to haunt others from Beyond. That said, welcome! Be you mortal, immortal. Trapped in a perpetual liminal state, or coasting towards death along with me!

Fuck me, fuck me sideways! Where am I? What was I doing?

Oh, oh yeah! Welcoming you to the weekly weekend wanking Open Bar!

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Streaming Tonight! 10pm!

Weekend Open Bar: Body Slam The Holiday Rush!

weekend open bar body slam the holiday rush

Hey, friends! It’s me, the Captain of the Space-Ship Omega welcoming you to the beginning of the Holiday Gauntlet. No doubt, it can be a wonderful time of the year. Yet, it can also provide an impressive cavalcade of social obligations, forced-monetary expenditures, and rolling darkness. What to do, what to do? Well, for starters take a fucking breath.  Then, pull up a chair around the cosmic-hearth here on the ship. You can take refuge here in the Weekend Open Bar! Herein you’ll find like-minded folk shooting the shit about their weekend.

Perhaps this weekend the conversation will center on how much money we spent on Black Friday deals. And the shotgun dropkicks we gave the elderly to procure said deals. Or, maybe we enumerate the various caloric depravities we’ve indulge in. Anything and everything goes, so long as the golden rule is not violated:

Thou shall be chill.

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Monday Morning Commute: I am a medium person!

monday morning commue i am a medium person

Man, there ain’t no fucking sun in the sky lately. And man, there ain’t no fucking warmth in the air. But, there sure are a lot of fucking papers to grade, a lot of classes to teach, and a lot of obligations to meet. Ah, ah yes. Why, it must be that time of the year. What time, you ask? Why, the time of the year where I feel ground down into a chunky paste, and slathered across the corporeal plane. However, I do not have the time to cease! Cause there’s so much goddamn wood to chop before I sleep for the semester.

How am I going to make it?

Why, by leaning on the various frivolities that bring me happiness. And, I’m wanting to tell you of the specific frivolities I’m enjoying this week! Do you want to hear, fair members of the Space-Ship Omega? I certainly fucking hope so!

But wait!

How am I going to make it, also?

Why, by listening to the various frivolities you are enjoying this week! Please, I implore you. Meet me in the comments section, and let’s spend time time!

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Monday Morning Commute: It Never Answers Back

monday morning commute it never answers back

How are you folks doing? I know it’s been quiet around here. Sure, there’s the occasional pop-culture kernel that I’m interested in enough to share. As well, there’s the Facebook page, which seems to have struck ground as an enjoyable repository for said kernels and infinite memes. And finally, yeah, we do stream every weekend on Twitch. But around here, man. The hub. It’s been quiet. At first, I wasn’t sure why it was so hard to maintain the grease on the perpetual-engine at the center of the Space-Ship Omega, but then I remembered.

We’re all just sort of busy.

Rendar’s got two jobs. Bateman’s got, I’m not really sure how many jobs. I oscillate between teaching four classes and one class depending on the semester, and I’m always tutoring 30+ students a week. Compliment that with a commute which is generally one-and-a-half-hours each way every day, and well. I’m fucking tired, man.

All of this is a meandering preamble to serve as both an acknowledgement that it’s quiet around here, an apology for said quiet, a paean for the older days, a notice that I miss you folks, and a reasoning for why things can get so quiet.

I hope you’re well. I hope you’re still here, even if you’re lurking. And if you’re not, eh, I can’t blame you. Entropy claims everything.

But, I’m here now, dudes! I’m here now, with yet another tardy Monday Morning Commute. It’s the gabfest where I share what I’m looking forward to in a given week! So, without further ado, here’s what I’m sweating!

I hope you’ll join me in the comments section!

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Weekend Open Bar: You Will Be Happy

weekend open bar you will be happy

It’s been a moment since I crept out from under the shadows and issued forth a Weekend Open Bar, huh? For that, I apologize. How the fuck are you doing, friends? Apologies for the tardiness, and all that happy horse shit. You know how it goes, or maybe you don’t know how it goes.

But, when the MalaiseVapors got your synapses in their claws, it’s hard to fight back.

But, I’m here now. The MalaiseVapors beat back, another row in the books. They’re gone, but not forgotten. They’re gone, but they’ll return. They always return, to dance the Dance Macabre.

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Weekend Open Bar: Some of that old school buddy cop action, dude

weekend open bar buddy cop type action

What’s up, fellow denizens of the Space-Ship Omega? How are you doing? I’m aiight, kicking it. I’m aiight, sluggishly tumbling headfirst into the final weekend of the semester. Tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. Skull-meat’s synapses barely firing, as my thickened blood fails to pump all that well.

But, I’m blessed enough to have the weekend off.

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Weekend Open Bar: I Eat Stickers All The Time, Dude!

weekend open bar i eat stickers all the time

Friends! Friends. I’m at a level of fatigue that I do not usually reach. Oh, the ethers from beyond beckon me towards slumber. Like not eternal slumber, don’t get me wrong. More like, oh, I don’t know. Eating six Pop Tarts, drowning my esophagus in ice cream, and drifting off. Drifting off where? Ideally to the Astral Plane for a good twelve or so hours. Just ripping ass, snoring, and healing my weakened mind-shafts.

The good news?

The good news is that I am of that privileged sort that has the weekends off.

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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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Weekend Open Bar: Ain’t no party like an anxiety attack, ’cause an anxiety attack don’t stop

anxiety attack party

I ain’t having an anxiety attack, though! Don’t let the headline fool you. Just popped into my head today, when I was brainstorming headlines. A headline for what? Why, the one, the only, the perpetually poorly written and only intermittently published: Weekend Open Bar!

That’s right! Come one, come all and grab a seat here. Here! In the rotgut, mind-melting tavern aboard the Space-Ship Omega.

Once seated, then what? Glad you (didn’t) ask! Share what you’re up to over the next couple of days. Don’t matter if you’re fortunate enough to have them off, or unfortunate enough to have to continue your grind.

All are welcome! Share, share what you’re playing! Share, what what you’re reading! Share what you’re watching, eating, contemplating. Anything and everything goes here, so long as you keep it very tight butthole (the existential state, regarding your own butthole, go fucking wild, I encourage it).

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