This is the way, motherfuckers! Or at least, it seems to keep me going. Eating food, and basking in the delights of pop culture. Cause let me tell you, it’s rough sledding for this dude these days. Like, an actual thought I had this morning as I prepared to teach? At my computer desk? Again? I thought to myself, it feels like going back to prison.
Holy moly! What a fucking awful thought. A prison sentence, albeit with fellow inmates I enjoy. However, a prison sentence none the less. I hadn’t sat at the desk all weekend, and as I steeled myself to sit down, I realized how much I was dreading it. Right in the bubble guts. Right in the scrotum of my soul.
But, at least I can kick it with you fucks. And, at least there’s some shit I’m looking forward to this week. You know, the pop culture delights that’ll sustain me, as the weather unravels. As the days darken. So, I’m about to enumerate that bullshit for you, and I hope you’ll join me in the comments.
This is Monday Morning Commute!
Sometimes the end is an ugly, horrid affair. Other times, the end can be beautiful. Which is how I’d like to frame the onset of Autumn, you know? View it more as an excuse to get comfy, hunker down with some arts&farts, and wait out this COVID calamity. ‘Cause the other perspective? Is being shut-in for six months or so, separated from the Old Ways and the Distanced Friends. So, fuck! Let’s be positive about everything, right? Or at least try.
This here is Monday Morning Commute! And, I’m about to list all the shit I’m enjoying this week Then, I hope you’ll join me in the comments section. What are you partaking in, this week? Got any dope horror movies lined up? Playing the new World of Warcraft patch? Got some music you’re rocking out to? I want to know!
Let’s spend some time together, as the sun sets earlier, and the beautiful end draws near.
Yeah, sure, why not stick Jason’s ass to space?! I mean, they sent the motherfucker to “Manhattan” already. What exactly is dude going to do in space? Is it even a proper installment if Jason doesn’t smoke people while they’re fucking? Is there going to be space fucking in this movie? That’s some shit I’m going to find out this weekend, as Bags and I polish off the Friday the 13th series. So obviously, I got big fucking plans this weekend.
It’s a Stephen King quote, friends! But it’s applicable both existentially, and to OL proper! Ya’ll are old friends that I have missed as of late. Lately, I’ve been eating an absolute speed bagging to my proverbial balls. Not even in a bad way, if you can believe it. Rather, just extremely long days sitting in a chair and staring into the void of a webcam while teaching. Immediately followed by a hollowed-out feeling of exhaustion when the daily gauntlet is completed.
Fall semesters are always draining, but they’re doubly draining in this new (and perhaps temporary?) digital world. Everything just flat-out takes more fucking time than it used to. Want to do group work? You can’t just print shit! Gotta assemble individual files for each group’s section, upload said files to Google Drive, check that they’re in the right folder, confirm that they’re shareable. Blah, blah, blah.
Hey, friends! It’s September, and I hope you’re all settling into the transitioning of seasons. As well, apologies for not penning columns as of late. Or, rather, typing. You know. Whatever the case, transmuting thoughts into symbols which make sense to you all. I’m just in a fucking funk, man. And when that shit happens, my expression-based faculties wither. Don’t wanna do anything other than fall inwards! That said, I’m hoping to blast out the comic books column this weekend, and high-five you fuckers in here.
The source of the malaise? Asides from Dead Cells? I think it’s emanating from a general sense of anxiety about teaching online, and the sadness that comes with it. Just not stoked, man. At all!
What’s up, friends! We’re closing in on the end of summer, baby! Bummer. Bummer! However, this weekend seems pretty fucking rad, at least for me! Not only are we finally starting Dead Cells 5BC, but there’s a new Bill & Ted movie to consume! Most righteous, you know? Anyways, let’s not rub around the hole too long! Time to just go right in! In to what? Why, Weekend Open Bar.
Salve, bitches! That’s Latin for “hello” and pretty much all I remember from four-years of taking that language. How is everyone these days? I hope you’re hanging in there, given, you know the circumstances. What circumstances? Throw a dart at a board of world topics. Whatever it lands on? That circumstance, among the others.
That said, ain’t doing too badly over here. Surfing these waning stages of summer both in terms of the weather, lifestyle, and vacation. As I’ve oft indicated, this is one of my favorite times of the year. However in many ways, it feels like a sort of holding pattern. I can sense that Fall and the semester are looming, which leads to a bit of anxiety. At the same time though, I got myself open evenings and late rises. It’s a liminal space, and it ain’t the worst place.
I know! Oh, god, do I know. Know what? That in about seven weeks I’m going to be looking back longingly on this specific moment in space-time. You know, as I’m buried under my first or second wave of papers to grade, with seasonal depression tag-teaming with my usual state of mental illness. Really just blasting my balls, the two of them taking turns. Occasionally teaming-up for an impressive tandem move.
Anyways, you all know the fucking rigmarole here. It’s Monday Morning Commute! What are you fuckers up to this week? What are you basking in, as the days grow shorter, the air grows colder, and Autumn begins to walk into the room?
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!
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!
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!