#January2019

Monday Morning Commute: four and three and two and one!

monday morning commute four and three and two and one!

Hey! It’s Monday Morning Commute, on a Tuesday! Again! Man, truthfully? There ain’t much going on in my life right now. Just the humming doldrums of the post-Holiday, pre-Spring existence here in the Northeast. It’s cold! That’s whack. It’s getting lighter out earlier and earlier! That’s dope.

And the forthcoming notables?

They’re the various spectacles and testicles-tickling activities helping me make it through the ashen week.

I hope you’ll join me in the comments section, and let me know what you’re looking forward to this week. To be honest, I’m in a bit of a rut. So, I could use anything you can suggest. Hit me. Hit me!

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Monday Morning Commute: Check Out That Fucking Sunset!

monday morning commute check out that sunset

Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.

At least here in the Northeast, and other sundry places currently eating Winter’s Shit. The teeth, you ask?  The teeth, I shall explain. We have entered that interminable period after the holidays where it’s all snow, slush, and gloom. There are no holidays to look forward to. And while the days are getting longer once again, it’s hard to appreciate when it’s -13 with the fucking windchill.

Oh, we in the fucking Teeth of it now, friends.

But, at least we have our frivolities, right? And, isn’t that what Monday Morning Commute is all about? Sharing the frivolities we’re looking forward to on a given week, to get us through the grind?

It is, indeed!

I’ll go first.

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Weekend Open Bar: Make A Wish (God Isn’t Listening)

weekend open bar

Good god damn, it’s the Weekend. Good god damn, I’m glad.

Can minimize the amount of time I’m stuffed into these ever-tightening pants, and maximize the amount of time I’m working towards further corpulence. It’s a merry sequence, a happied romance. I hope, oh I hope to do it with you folks. Here at the Weekend Open Bar. The weekly weekend invitation, nay, the weekly weekend invocation of the citizens of Space-Ship Omega. To gather around the digi-hearth and spend their weekend together. Sharing what we’re eating, sharing what we’re drinking, sharing what we’re reading. Sharing anything and everything! Drunken tales of anal gapes around Slurpee dispensers. Sober tales of contemplating. Anything and everything.

Good god damn, it’s the Weekend. Good god damn, I’m glad.

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Weekend Open Bar: Let Me Lick Your Rot

Hell Bent On Heaven!

It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby! It’s Weekend Open Bar, baby! At least for me. Hitting a bit early, too. Goddamn first significant snow storm of the year is currently rampaging its way through the guts of Massachusetts’ coast, and yet! And yet! My fucking university didn’t cancel class. All the schools-universities-establishments-basement latex fuck dungeons are closed for the day! But not mine. Not even though it’s a fucking commuter school. So I called an audible and canceled my class, myself.

Ain’t no way I’m taking my 2007 Civic with its bald ass tires and death-wish (it has told me after three years of me sneezing on it, farting in, and vaguely rubbing my penis in traffic while driving in it, that it longs for oblivion) onto these terrible roads.

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