It’s official, comrades. Members of the Space-Ship Omega. The COVID-19 vaccine is currently coursing through my veins. Building antibodies. Shuffling me towards a day when I may return to the movies, watch sports with friends, and attend concerts. Build, antibodies! Build! Swell up, teach my body how to karate-chop this fucking virus. Missile dropkick the son of a bitch! Get big, get strong, get ready for me. ‘Cause Imma put your serum-ass to the test in three weeks or so.
Don’t trust anyone who offers you a crock of gold, folks! It’s a motherfucking Leprechaun Job! What does that mean? Man, I don’t fucking know. Okay? Okay! The shitty, pointless headline pun is simply the result of me watching the first Leprechaun this weekend. Fuck, it’s a goddamn goofy-ass blast. I didn’t realize how silly the movie would be, but I enjoyed it all the more for it. Now I must work my way through the series.
‘Cause do you really think I’m gonna miss out on this little fucker going to space?
Or the hood? Twice?
Anyways, this here is Monday Morning Commute! The weekly column where we share the arts&farts we’re digging into during a given week.
But you know that cause you’re here! And if you’re here, you’re assuredly a stalwart member of the community. You see, we don’t get many new visitors round these parts. To reference the King’s works himself, OL has become a veritable Derry or Salem’s Lot at this point. I don’t mind though!
Not at all, no I don’t. So long as you regulars hang out in the comments section, that is!