As our own Neo said to me today, lately my ass definitely sounds “kinda burned for this early in the semester” and he ain’t wrong. I don’t know, man! Fucking snow! Fucking gray skies! Fucking remote teaching! It’s all just a lot, and every day survived feels like a small victory. There’s sludge in the brain! Mud in the blood! My synaptic cycling is definitely more slowed than preferred.

Eh! Fuck it, right? I mean, I don’t know what to do.

Keep moving! Keep going! Push forward.

I’m just grousing, but I’m here! Which has to count for something, right? Please tell me yes. Just lie, if need be. I need it.

Meanwhile, despite my gloom, I’m enjoying my fair share of commodities and consumerist models. So I’m gonna share these oddities, commodities, and various arts & farts with ya’ll. Then, I hope you’ll decide to join me in the comments section.

Let’s fucking go!

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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It’s Weekend Open Bar! Let’s kick this off. With alacrity! The weekly column where the reckless degenerates and-or savory, wonderful souls of Space-Ship Omega gather. Holding hands, holding eye contact, we discuss with vim and vigor our Weekend Plans.

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Oh, Lollipop Chainsaw. Part of me loves you because you’re so ridiculous. Part of me is embarrassed by you. Then there’s the majority of me which generally forgets you exist. I’ll give it up to this “Valentine’s Day” trailer, which explains the disembodied head stuck to uh…Lollipop’s (?) hip.

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Happy Valentine’s Day

Don’t give me the standard “Uggh, Valentine’s Day, it’s completely made-up” argument. Yeah, it’s completely fabricated. As is every holiday (Wha? Jesus wasn’t born in snow-covered manger on December 25^th?!?).

If you’ve managed to fool someone into loving you, spend some time with `em today. If you don’t have anyone special in your life, go find someone.

And if you’re going to sit inside sulking all day, at least eat a heart-shaped box of chocolates. The shape makes the candy taste better (it’s been proven – by science).

To get you in the mood, a love song: