#July2019

Monday Morning Commute: Once Upon A Time In Omega Level

monday morning commute once upon a time

Greetings, fellow travelers upon the Space-Ship Omega! It’s I, your depraved and debauched captain. Walking around, wearing only boxer briefs and a compromised smile! How are you? Me? I’m doing decent enough. Pausing for a moment, taking a good goddamn breath. It’s hard to believe July is almost over. But, it’s also not that hard. My word, what a fucking busy month. Went to a funeral, taught two classes, went to Denver, ate too much. However, I’m done! Done teaching, at least until September.

Thus, I’m stoked to spend this time reconnecting with you all. Here on the blog! Hopefully this weekend, on Twitch!

What are you up to this week? Playing anything? Watching anything? What measures are you taking to stay cool, as the Earth melts and hope evaporates? I wanna know!

I’ll go first.

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Weekend Open Bar: the turtles were on to something

weekend open bar the turtles were on to something

Welcome to Weekend Open Bar, my friends!

I’m not dead, not sad, just busy these days my friend! That said, I apologize! How the fucking fuck have you fucking folks been? Me? I feel eerily content. Not euphoric which is rare, not happy which is fleeting, but generally content. I can’t explain it. Or, rather, I suppose I can. Teaching is fantastic, my diet is good, I’m getting a lot of sleep and exercise, and by god, I swear it, yoga fucking works.

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Monday Morning Commute: I’m Trying My Best

monday morning commute i'm trying my best

I’m like, really bad at relaxing. Really, really bad. So bad that despite the fact that I’m supposed to have this week off from work, I still went in yesterday. Better yet, I ended up tutoring, too! It’s just, just difficult for me to wind down from teaching a class (or four) and tutoring thirty hours a week, and segue into not burning out glorious upon the Fury Road. I mean, today, my wife had to talk me out of going to the gym before I go to spin class tonight. I’m trying! I’m trying my goddamn best. I mean, I gave up on two trips to the gym today! That’s gotta…that’s gotta be progress, I think?

But, I’m here now! Connecting with you, my fellow trash-blesssed folk aboard the Space-Ship Omega! Inviting you to join me here in Monday Morning Commute! I got, I got a serious fucking caffeine buzz going, and I’m about to enumerate the various bullshit I’m excited about this week. The happenings that are happening that will happen to help me to enjoy this week off from work.

Then! If the Eldritch Ones hear my prayer, you’ll share your own weekly musings in the comments section.

Shazam!

Excelsior!

Et cetera!

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Weekend Open Bar: You Will Be Happy

weekend open bar you will be happy

It’s been a moment since I crept out from under the shadows and issued forth a Weekend Open Bar, huh? For that, I apologize. How the fuck are you doing, friends? Apologies for the tardiness, and all that happy horse shit. You know how it goes, or maybe you don’t know how it goes.

But, when the MalaiseVapors got your synapses in their claws, it’s hard to fight back.

But, I’m here now. The MalaiseVapors beat back, another row in the books. They’re gone, but not forgotten. They’re gone, but they’ll return. They always return, to dance the Dance Macabre.

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Weekend Open Bar: Here and There

weekend open bar here and there

It’s the Weekend! Open! Bar!

Still though!

I, I don’t got nothing to say. Been up since around 9 am, peak caffeine hit around six hours ago, and now I’m sort of downshifting my horrid, horrid, chemically-abysmal blood in preparation for a more relaxed evening. So, the invocations bring nothing to the finger tips. Especially since, if I’m being honest, I really want to be supine with a couple of funny books in my grubby paws.

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Weekend Open Bar: You Can Still Find The Sun

amid-the-wreckage

It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby! This is the freakin’ Weekend Open Bar, baby! After a particularly strenuous week, I’m happy to report I’m currently supine. Type-type-typing away. Next to Mrs. Omega. Got a weekend of gaming, reading, watching, and sleeping on the docket. Can’t complain, can’t complain.

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Weekend Open Bar: The Sun Sets On Forever

hawaii - sachiko

hawaii | sachiko

The summer drags on, man.

As I predicted a bit ago, I knew I was going to find myself melancholic as I found myself stranded in the liminal state between Summer Teaching and Fall Teaching. At first it was great. Sleeping in late. No lesson planning. Rocking shorts every day! Shorts, every day! Then the tedium set in.

My wife went away today, she’s going to be away, for something like thirteen out of sixteen days. At first it was great. I’ve jacked off fourteen times, walked the dog twice, crushed nineteen Diet Dew, and marveled at what freedom I have. Then the tedium set in.

The summer drags on, man.

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Weekend Open Bar: To Cyber-Space for the Meat-Case

weekend open bar - to cyberspace for the meat-case

I say goddamn!, I’m glad it’s the weekend!

For numerous reasons. Oh, today marks the first day out of the past eight where I’m not dealing directly with my grandmother’s day. I say goddamn!, I’m glad it’s the weekend!

Oh, it marks the beginning of my glorious Cheat Days, where I can stuff my face with catastrophic amounts of calories with no guilt.  I say goddamn!, I’m glad it’s the weekend.

Oh, it marks the beginning of a laundry list of Dope Shit I’m planning on watching, reading, playing.

I say goddamn!, I’m glad it’s the weekend!

So why don’t you join me here, at Weekend Open Bar. The column where I implore all of you denizens of the Space-Ship Omega to gather, to hang out. To share the various things that are causing you to “I say goddamn!, I’m glad it’s the weekend”, with me, comrades.

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Monday Morning Commute: The Red Planet Was A Promise Broken

red-planet-broken

The Red Planet was a promise broken. I don’t know, half-baked phrases that wiggle up out of the sludge of my brain. Dying on the shores of over-caffeination, lack of self-esteem, and attention deficit disorder. Never to evolve past their primordial stage. Never to take shape as anything other than a “hey, that may be neat to write about.” At least not in the last few years. Who knows. Maybe with a new home, my own room, and a distinct desire to create something, I’ll get beyond the “concepts generated while taking a crap-taking a drive-taking a shower” stage of my (lack of) creativity.

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