It’s that time again! Weekend Open Bar! I am turning the sign on a bit late tonight, having gone straight from work to my parents’ house. Crushed some pizza. Hung out with Rendar and his Better Half. Now? Now I’m putting this column up before I go and hopefully play Destiny: The Taken King for a solid three hours or so!
This is! Weekend Open Bar! The column at the end of the Work Week/Internet/Universe where I invite you to join me every weekend. Come share what you’re doing this weekend. What you’re wearing. What you’re reading. The comic books you’re worshipping, the flavor of the boogers (argh, allergies!) you’re feeling slide down the back of your throat! Anything! Everything! Gifs, gabs, gestures towards Deities Who Have Abandoned You. It’s all fair game, here. Just come hang out.
We’re celebrating Fourth of July weekend here in the Empire. That means the usual things, which have been enumerated some six or seven times here aboard the Space-Ship. Hormone-soaked beef. Testosterone-fueled chants of questionable supremacy. And other cynical shit. But it also means a great reason to gather ’round with your loved ones, throw back a few Adult Sodas, smoke some Shire Green, and have a good time. Not just your tangi-friends, either! But us, too. You know! Your favorite Monsters at the End of the Internet. So join us! At the Weekend Open Bar.
Your Flesh Sac will whisper wearingly to you, if you let it. Letting you know that your knees are giving, your rib cage is creaking, and your heart is just sort of fucking tired. Your Flesh Sac will point out the fleeting Liminal Burp that is all your life. Do not listen. Do not believe its lies. It is the only way to sally forth into the resplendent Gloom of Oblivion that awaits us all with your head held high.
(Unless someone decapitates you and raids the Gates of Eternity with your Head on a Pike. There is also that way.)
Here it is! The second Transmission from the Omega-Level has arrived. What lies within the rotting halls of this second podcast? Rendar. You wanted him, well now you got him. So much Rendar that you’ll never want more Rendar. And then you’ll find yourself missing his musk. Apologies for the shortness of the podcast, we cut one quickly off the cuff before Bateman and Rendar left for the Great North. They’re now among the Maple Syrup Bears, throwing hockey pucks at one another or some shit.
We will be back soon.
Until then, steel yourself.
Here. Or on iTunes.
For Rendar’s Revenge.