#January2015
Marvel dropping RUN THE JEWELS variant covers
It’s always nice to know that people get you and what you’re about. And so it’s been dope today. No less than five people have pushed this news along to me today as I worked. Ya’ll beautiful. As beautiful as these FUCKING RUN THE JEWELS VARIANT COVERS OH FUCK YES.
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Weekend Open Bar: That Old Time Feeling
FUCK. It’s the weekend, yo. Long weekend at that. Black Friday. Force Awakens day. So the goddamn bar is opening early. We’re keeping the mead flowing all fucking weekend, and I want you sexy bastards gathering around the Open Bar.
Views From The Space-Ship: It’s a lifestyle, baby
Oh shit! It’s an over-caffeinated view from my compartment in the Space-Ship. Been pounding Diet Dews and rewatching the Force Awakens trailer. Into infinity. But here is this shit. I forgot to do this post yesterday, seeing that I was drunk on turkey, but also drunk on drunk juice. Now, as I am the opposite of subdued, I shall post it in a mania. PER FUCKING USUAL, share the view from your own world i the comments.
Monday Morning Commute: Deploy The Advil!
Oh Lords of Advil, don’t fail me now. It’s Monday — folks. That sucks. It’s also Caff-Pow here — folks. Doubly sucks. Tagging in for Rendar this week. Stow your tears, he’ll be back next week. So for now, I’m going to drop on you the various things I’m indulging on during this week. ‘Cause, you know, that’s the premise of this column. Monday Morning Commute.
Monday Morning Commute: AUTUMNAL SPACESHIP GROOVING.
Woo! Look at Killer Mike fucking have at it! From a super-froggy-fresh live performance of “Run the Jewels.” Killer Mike? That’s how I’m feeling on this final day of the long weekend. Nothing like sleeping in late three days in a row to revive the synapses, restore the soul, and pack on an easy five pounds or so. This is Monday Morning Commute, the column where I share the esoteric entities (not really) in my existence that are helping me get through a given week. I spread them all around the ground, pointing at them while shouting “Fuck!, Fuck!, Fuck!, Delicious!” This serves to let you know I love them. After that, you share your dilly dallyings in the comments.
Let’s groove, folks.
MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE: HOT DOGS-RELATED DEATHS
Hello friends and family aboard the Spaceship Omega. As we hail from the Empire Proper, the lot of us shall be celebrating the Fourth of July. You’re not from this Solar System? Confused as to how we rock our celebrations around these parts? It’s simple! All you have to do to join us is fill yourselves with chemical-soaked animal flesh. In-between teeth gnashing the bits, swallow healthy amounts of Amber Liquids. These suds shall assuage the indigestion. Not only that, but they shall elevate you to another plane. Careful, though. Should you consume too much Amber Liquid and Animal Flesh, you may theoretically pass out in the kiddie pool. With your pants down. Theoretically, you’ll wake up lobster pink. The children will notice your lack of pants, the parents will notice the vomit baked into your beard.
So even though it isn’t in league with the celebration, I also caution temperance.
What are you doing to do the rest of the week? Glad you asked. Here is Monday Morning Commute, the column where us populators of the OL-Satellite share what we are up to during a given seven-day stretch.
