#November2018

Weekend Open Bar: Clench Your Teeth

weekend open bar clench your teeth

Oh fuck! I’m a day late! But, is forgiveness offered because it’s a long weekend? Please, forgive me! Seriously though, I’m here! Here now. Here ready to party. Here ready to talk about whatever you wanna talk about. After all, that’s the point of Weekend Open Bar! To shoot the weekend shit with the other denizens of Space-Ship Omega! Let’s talk, fuckers!

Wanna talk prostate orgasms? I’m here.

Wanna talk Sam Esmail’s latest auteur masterpiece Homecoming? I’m here.

Wanna talk Red Dead Redemption 2? I’m here.

Anything and everything goes here within these madness-slickened walls.

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Monday Morning Commute: The Long Winter

monday morning commute the long winter

Man, fuck the winter. I have always romanticized, and quite frankly enjoyed, the winter. But not this year, friends. Not this year at all. I can’t handle the barren HellScape this year. Whereas in past I rejoiced in scaling it with snowbeast in tow, this year it’s just a reminder of the fact that it isn’t May. But it’s not the physical hardships that have me ground down. I can do the cold and the snow.

It’s the emotional. More than usual, my brain-veins are struggling to pump. I can reason with the weather, but I can’t reason with the malaiseyonnaise struggling to course through the meat-electricity of my flesh-bag. So, I must confess I just haven’t been able the mental wherewithal to write this son of a bitch.

But, I’m here now! So, while whatever chemicals are sloshing around relatively favorably in my body, I shall let you know what I’m looking forward to this week. Or rather since it’s Wednesday, what I’m looking forward to, and what I’ve been enjoying.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

By way of Wednesday afternoon.

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Weekend Open Bar: The Horizon Smelled Like Pleasant Lies

weekend open bar the horizon smelled like pleasant lies

Man. If you only knew how much time I burned through looking for a header image for this post. If you only knew how much time I burned through trying to come up with a title for this post. But here I am, folks. Opening up the Weekend Open Bar for one and all.

Now. I’m covered in sweat, lowered in the couch, delayed in showering before this evening’s activities.

Later. I’ll be covering myself in crumbs, lowering myself in the couch, consuming media with Bateman.

You. What are you doing tonight? Saturday? This weekend? What are you playing? Eating? Watching? Reading? Contemplating?

Somehow. It’s time for yet another Weekend Open Bar.

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Weekend Open Bar: Informal Gluttony

weekend open bar informal gluttony

It’s the fucking weekend, baby!

Not a minute too soon, not a moment too early. Caught myself some Blade Runner 2049 last night (it’s fucking amazing), and it was worth it! But goddamn, did I ever mentally and physically pay the Iron Price for it. No sleep, very little sleep, what sleep was had was shoddily attained that.

But!

It’s the fucking weekend, baby!

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Tuesday Afternoon Commute: The March of the Monsters!

here they come

The March of the Monsters.

It will reach its first crescendo, as they slither into the symbolic house of power this week. Here they come! Ancient ones! With gnarled fangs protruding from ruptured sockets. Here they come! With blasphemous sores upon oozing phalanges! Gnashing and beying for the life-force of the wounded, the wearied. Here they come! Tentacles and ill-intent! Here they come! Smashing and ripping and devouring. Here they come! Blood in their eyes, death in their mouths! Here they come!

What can you do? Shelter-in-place! Here! At the Space-Ship Omega! In this here post! Monday Morning Commute! By way of Tuesday Afternoon. Where we share what we’re doing this week, what we’re looking forward to this week. You know, when we’re not preparing the survival kits, building the house-sized umbrellas to shield our domiciles from the shrapnel borne out of shorn blood-meat from conquered deities.

The March of the Monsters.

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Weekend Open Bar: Welcome Fellow Travellers!

grettings

Welcome, fellow travellers! Welcome here to the Open Bar, upon the Space-Ship Omega! I #cantstop and I #wontstop the cheesy, but ultimately enjoyable (for me) conceit! You know, the one about this website being a Space-Ship. You know, the one about us being denizens of a shuddering, weathered, but comforting hunk of self-propelling space-junk amid the abyss of the internet cosmos.

As I said, it’s comforting.

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Weekend Open Bar: It Was An Illusion. Even A Pleasant One For Some

weekend open bar - an illusion

The bar is open early, friends. It’s Thanksgiving Eve here on the eastern arm of the Empire. I’m blessed enough to have the rest of the week off. So why not let the Asgardian ale flow already? So why not let the Martian space spice be smoked already? I have no good reasons for why not to, I have no good explanations. All I know is that life is too short, too vicious for even the most blessed, to not seize upon moments of revelry with you and yours.

Weekend Open Bar on a Wednesday evening.

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Weekend Open Bar: You Are Ready For Upload

you-are-ready-for-upload

Stand by, your consciousness is ready for upload. Say goodbye to the rot-filth of tangibility, and embrace the ephemeral. You cannot escape Entropy, cause brother the Universe is still dying on you. But hey, no more meat-case. You cannot escape Entropy, cause brother every time we re-upload you to split processing load, you lose a few bits and bytes of yourself. But hey, no more meat-case. So what to do, what to do in the Digital-Oblivion? Why, why not hang out at Weekend Open Bar? The weekly wank-off session at the Space-Ship OMEGA. Tunnel in to one of our android-bodies. Submit your credit codes, cause capitalism don’t need physical space. Drive that android-body up to the bar, and kick the time with us flesh-rats in the Tavern.

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Weekend Open Bar: Holiday With The New Scum

holiday with the new scum

This is Weekend Open Bar.

I’ve got a cold this weekend, folks. This is how bad of a cold I’ve got, I’ll tell ya, I’ll tell ya. My cold is so fucking bad that I couldn’t even finish my chimichanga. How’s that for a fucking cold? My cold is so fucking bad that my farts are thick, hateful, nightmare blasts of Theraflu chemicals and phlegm-gut. How’s that for a fucking cold?

But the Theraflu does its job, oh yes. I knew the Theraflu was doing its job earlier tonight. I knew it while I was walking the Snowbeast and out of nowhere came the thought, “Man, I’m damn comfortable, I could just lay down.” Now mind you I may live on a rather comfortable, middle-class street. But at no time should a gangly man with a SpaceX hoodie be laying on the damp concrete sidewalk, a confused Great Pyrenees alternating between lapping at her owner and struggling to break free and run into the woods for a Vision Quest.

After I had that thought, after I processed that potential consequence, I thought to myself. Well golly, I’m straight fucked-up on Theraflu!

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Weekend Open Bar: To The Left of Reality

glitched-glitched-glitched

My wife is really good at throwing wood into the wood stove that heats our sunroom during the Winter. Someday I’m going to be typing this from a shelter, or a shack, or my backyard. You see, she’s really good at throwing it. Ashes are really good at flying into the air. Burning embers are really good at hitting the tile, and not the rug.

But woah boy!

Someday them embers are going to hit the rug. I’ve seen it.

But woah boy!

Someday them embers are going to ignite the rug, maybe the dog, definitely the house. I’ve seen it!

In fact, somewhere across the OMNIVERSE, in an incredible amount of Universes, this is happening now.

Somewhere: my pubic hair, which dangles to the ground, is igniting from those embers.

In fact, somewhere across the OMNIVERSE, in an incredible amount of Universes, this is happening now.

Somewhere: my dog, which is also a dinosaur, which is also Jesus Christ, is turning nipple milk into water, drowning those burning embers.

I’ve seen it!

Anyways — until she burns down the house here, until the embers take down this dry ass house in this dry ass state on this perpetually dry ass Planet — until then — I will be celebrating Weekend Open Bar from my couch.

Right here!

Weekend Open Bar! Come come, folks. Celebrate the weekend with me. Come come, folks. Tell me what you’re up to this weekend!

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