…I’d rather die during sex.
Yeehaw! It’s my favorite fucking column here on the Space-Ship Omega. Weekend Open Bar! The goddamn proverbial Royal Rumble around these parts. The obnoxious table of twenty at the Tavern. Here at Open Bar, anything goes. It’s the Weekend Long Column where I encourage you all to congregate. Use the comments section to opine about the NBA Draft. To declare your love for omnisexual Martians with Mommy issues. To post gifs of Honey Boo Boo. To share what you’re planning on sticking into your gut this weekend. Be it beer, pizza, or both (ideally). It doesn’t fucking matter, so long as it is in good spirits.
Ohhh, it’s hotter than a mofuckah’ out there. (There being the Eastern Seaboard, Empire Proper.) How are you friends and foes of the site doing today? I hope you’re doing well. This is Monday Morning Commute. Ya’ll know how it goes down around these parts. Unless you’re an innocent passerby. In which case I say: RUN! But if you’re not going to run, I should probably explain it to you. Within these virtual walls, we explain what we’re up to this week. Share the arts, farts, and life activities carrying us through the next 24×7 hours or whatever.