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.
Hey, friends! I know, Monday Morning Commute is a day late! But as my wife and I always say around that time of the month, “better late than not at all”, right? Here we are! Me kicking shit off crass as hell, which I suppose is par for my idiotic, juvenile course. How are you friends? Are you surviving the never ending Maelstrom of Cruelty and Resignation that is America in 2020? I hope so, dudes. I hope so. It ain’t easy, though! I’m feeling it lately.
From the privileged problems like not being able to go out to eat, to the more resonant ones like worrying about my job. My anxiety runs the whole gauntlet! Meanwhile, I suppose I’m just struggling with the loss of normalcy. I had a dream over the weekend that it was my first day back in the classroom after this whole son of a bitch runs its course. You know, to the extent that it ever will. COVID-19 is here forever in some form, baby! ‘Cause we all fucked up. But, man. That dream felt fucking good. I miss it, I genuinely do, the motherfucking classroom. My ass snapped awake, and there was just this melancholic-ass feeling in my guts.
I admit if my biggest sadness is not being able to teach in a classroom, I’m doing fucking well. Great, even. That said, it does register like a nut-punch to the existential nards that I’ll be teaching from home all Fall. Spring too, probably.
Anyways, enough caterwauling from this blubbering bitch. This is Monday Morning Commute! As probably all four of you know. Which means I’m about to give you a rundown of what I’m enjoying this week, what I’m looking forward to this week, and all of that other happy horseshit. Per usual, I hope you’ll join me in the comments. Ain’t gonna blame ya if you don’t, though!
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.
Woo! It’s motherfucking vacation for me, baby! Well, almost. My summer class has concluded, which means that all I got across the next six weeks is the occasional work at the Writing Center. Woo! Woo! Drink in the musk of my euphoria, which will slowly burn off by early evening. I mean, I had to get up at 6:30 this morning. But, fuck it! Woo! Woo! Woo! It’s all good in this realm, baby! And, I hope you motherfuckers are ready to hang out this weekend!
Let’s pop on our robes, pop off our pants, and get to it, fellas! Stylin’! Profilin’! What are you beautiful fucks up to this weekend? Playing anything dope? Reading anything worthwhile? BBQing? It’s the time of times during the week when we all hang.
What’s up, you grease-covered, slickened pieces of shit?! Or, rather that’s how I imagine your body. ‘Cause like most people, I can only imagine others bound by my own circumstances. You see, it’s hot as fuck out here in the Northeast. And that’s how I would describe myself. Greasy. Slick. Horny for air conditioning and ass. Hungry for cool breezes and caloric depravity. And most importantly? Feeling half-decent. With the semester winding down, I can feel my mind-anus unclenching. I’ve found myself sleeping a bit more deeply, and awakening a bit more carefree.
All of this explains why I’m actually writing an MMC on a Monday evening! Ha! Wowzers! Take a carrot, shine it with petroleum jelly, and stick it in my ass! Watch as I scream in delight! Cover the eyes of small children and other innocent passersby!
Anyways, what the fuck, let’s do this shit!
Here’s the detritus swirling up against my life-hole this week, tempting me, plugging me, encouraging me. I hope you’ll join me in the comments!
It’s nudie magazine day, friends! Okay, not really. But, the fucking infectious refrain from Billy Madison is what I swing as I’m coming down the stairs every Friday. It’s such a pure, tits-powered jingle that it’s stuck with me throughout the years. And, I can’t think of any better way to kick-off the weekend! Well, other than hanging with you motherfuckers! Ha! How is that for a goddamn segue? God-Tier. Really, just pure writing prowess. Okay, okay. I know I’m a prose-based slob, but let me have this shit!
Anyways, let’s spend some time together this weekend, good friends! Right here in the Open Bar. And I must remind ya’ll beautiful pricks, we ain’t streaming this Saturday. Just one Saturday! Just this Saturday. A little break from our streaming madness. So, that means this is the only venue for chatting with me about nipple hairs. Or whether or not Bags using the phrase “genitals’ like a sociopath is weird (it is). Neither of those topics interest you?
A) What the fuck.
B) No worries!
Goddamn, fuck! Feels like we’ve been waiting for Ghost of Tsushima. But folks, we now have a date! The motherfucker is dropping next summer! And! We got a sexy new trailer.
Fucking stunning, dude.
Sucker Punch has dropped a trailer for their next game, Ghost Of Tsushima, and the shit looks hype. The company has never been up there with Naughty Dog or Bethesda for me. However, I’ll be good goddamned if they don’t consistently churn out enjoyable titles.