It’s been a hot fucking minute since I rattled off one of these diarrhea-blasts of existential enormity, no? But I’m here right now, ready to plunder your holes with my textual absurdity. Let the ole cyber-tongue rattle around and find where it gets you good. I’m not saying you know that I’m good for, but if you’ve found this post you probably already know me. Yes? Fucking yes!
How has everyone been doing? I’ve been surfing along the astral-plane and simultaneously tethered to this rot-ass meat-space like the rest of ya’ll. When I’m not high and surfing the Beyond with Bateman or my Wife, I’m trudging through a miserable remote summer class.
Man, I can absolutely relate to Murray from The Goldbergs. Motherfucking Spring Break is here, which means it’s time to pop off them jeans! Slip into something more comfortable, and fucking flat-out vibe. It’s goddamn glorious out today on the Eastern seaboard of the Empire. I got myself a warm-ass breeze wafting into my study, I got a warm-ass can of Diet Dew flying down my gullet, and I got a warm-ass glow in my heart.
Between the weather, the longer days, and the imminent approach of our vaccinations, I’m feeling hope. Really, I’m feeling hopeful for the first time since maybe the Fall. The Winter cracked open my psyche and blasted my mind-ass. Somehow while missing my prostate, because let’s be honest: an ass-blasting focusing on the prostate is a glorious, near-heavenly experience.
We’re at Doom’s Gate, motherfuckers! But, we’re in it together. I know it seems like small potatoes, but this week has at least felt like a communal panic. It sounds absurd, but it’s nice to feel closer to the communities I’m belong to, and my friends. If we’re on the Titanic, at least we’re all waltzing together, no?
So, let’s waltz here! At the Weekend Open Bar! It’s usually the weekly siesta where we gather, and share what we’re up to during a specific Weekend. And, that’s still the point of this son of a bitch! But, let’s also just hang out, stare at the sky together, and metaphorically scream.
Let’s spend time, friends!
What’s up, travelers aboard the Space-Ship OMEGA? It’s finally, finally the Weekend Open Bar.
Boy. Weird week, no? COVID-19 has finally struck America’s consciousness, and such a strike has felled any sort of normalcy. Ain’t no sports! Ain’t no toilet paper! Movie premieres being delayed. Schools being closed. What the fuck! What the fuck does this all mean?
Honestly, I don’t know!
And a good goddamn Weekend to you all, you fuckers! How are you doing? Attempting to keep the Pushing Through A Malaise and Interacting With Others space-ship going! As well, it’s pretty easy keep reaching out and high-fiving motherfuckers when it’s the weekend. I mean, right?
Speaking of which, grab a chair! Pull up a bean bag! Sit down directly on your balls and scream mercilessly!
I don’t care what you do. So long as you hang out with me this weekend! After all, that’s the point of the motherfucking Open Bar!
Eternal thanks to JCVD, I’ve fucking made it to this mini vacation. Thanksgiving to the Man Himself, you know? I woke up this morning on the start of my Long Weekend, and, fuck. I actually slept well. It’s amazing how glorious emerging from a deep slumber is, especially when there’s no alarm clock awakening you. I hope you’re as fortunate enough as me to be embarking on your own mini-vacation.
And if so, I hope you’ll spend some time during it here at the Open Bar.
Sharing what you’re going to be doing amid this temporary Oasis. Eating so much you gotta pop your top button? Catching-up on Watchmen, or sweating The Mandalorian? Rock fighting the elderly for a PS4 Pro bundle on Black Friday? I want to know!
Well, it’s official, motherfuckers. Blade Runner is the past. Instead of being a clarion call about the direction we were heading, it’s now officially yet another warning wasted. But, hey! What the fuck can you do. I suppose continue sallying forth towards our inevitable destruction. Or at the least, towards Blade Runner 2049. An equally foreboding portent.
But, the good news! You don’t have to do it alone. As long as the Space-Ship Omega is humming through the digital cosmos, you have a hearth to call your own. As, every weekend, we gather around said hearth. For the Open Bar!
Within these walls, around this hearth, we share what we’re up to during a given weekend. And, I hope you’ll join me! What the fuck is happening this weekend in your life? Are you playing some Fallen Order? Stressfully picking up accouterments for Thanksgiving dinner? Diligently scouring Black Friday ads for where you’re going to inevitably punch a grandma in the tits over a TV?
Hey friends! Drinkwater here. Caffeine Powered here. CaffPow here. Whatever appellation you want to hang on me, go for it. I simply don’t fucking care. Weird week here for me, friends. My wife’s grandmother passed away last week, and we’re in that liminal state. Between the passing and the service. Between the act and the acceptance. If you’re reading this babe, I love you! You’ve got this. And so everything feels in stasis until at least the service on Saturday. But as we all know, it’ll be a much longer process than that.
Meanwhile, I am in the doldrums of the semester. Tired. I’m tired. The students are tired. The staff are tired. We all out here, tired. So, apologies if nothing is truly sizzling my tits right now. I present to you Monday Morning Commute, none the less. And, I suppose that’s where you come in.
Indeed, hit up the comments section.
Let me know what you’re enjoying!
Furthermore, let me know what you’re anticipating this week!
I’ll go first, per the rules of this dance.
Tonight! Join us!
Hell yes, it’s Weekend Open Bar.
What’s up, fellow denizens of the Space-Ship Omega? Me? This guy? I’m celebrating the cessation of the semester! Or, at least, the last full week. Not only that, but it’s the motherfucking weekend! With that in mind, I must cop to you that I’m about to eat too much, sleep too much, play too much, smoke too much, and smile too much.
And, I implore you fellow degenerates to join me in my revelry here in the Open Bar!