Louie. Louis CK. Ya’ll both been gone from my television-set for a while now. I appreciate the the hiatus, and I appreciate that FX let you take it. You’ve been taking your time, refining your shit. Nothing worse than trying to force material if it ain’t there. However, there has been a pall without you. So I’m fucking stoked to see that you’re returning soon. Soon!
Ain’t this the glory. There is a good chance that we will be getting not one, nay! not one at all!, but two series from Louis CK on FX.
You can take the Louis C.K. out of obscurity, but you can’t take the common man out of his soul. That’s…that’s how the saying goes, right? Duder is ripping off an HBO special soon, and he has pledged to drop that hotness on our asses for $5 a couple of months after it airs. This is fantastic.
Man, I’m eating my feelings lately. Straight-up gorging. My bikini body is suffering, yo. I think it’s safe to say that I slather on another pound or three every time I’m tasked with writing a paper. Got this weird as fuck schedule riffing right now too, where I’m on campus until 9 pm. No gym. Mucho food. Gotta cut back. Not this week though! Why? It’s America Fuck Yeah! week. An abridged existence for those of us slaving it out in the United. I am eagerly anticipating stuffing gullet with many a chlorine-soaked beef patty and unethically snuffed chicken. There will be a momentary pause as I mourn the animals, before respecting their sacrifice by ingesting them with a fervor.
This is Monday Morning Commute, the column where we all share the various arts and artifices we’re employing to get us through the week. Won’t you be my date on this fairest of occasions?
Louis CK is probably my inspirational dude of the year. He’s clawed his way to the top, while exerting his own artistic vision. Now he’s continuing the righteous he started back with his $5 download by direct-selling his tickets.
Take a breath. You’re safe. I promise.
I know that you were probably scared out of your wits today. It’s okay. I was too. Hell, who wouldn’t be terrified at the prospect of having to spend every single Monday from now until retirement/death/tiger-mutilation lamentin’ existence. Oh, you didn’t think that I heard you? I did. In a way, actually found your exasperated sighs lyrical.
“Motherfucking rat race life! How’m I supposed to keep doin’ this without going postal? Arggh!”
Take another breath. I’ve got the solution. You’ve come to the right place.
This here’s the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, OL’s workweek refugee camp. What we do is showcase the various bits of entertainment and pop-culture detritus that we’ll snack on throughout the week, consuming just enough Nerd Calories to get us to the weekend. I’ll go first, then you’ll hit up the comments section and show off your recipe for ennui-repellent.