Monday Morning Commute: Blue People Are Fucking AWESOME

Oh shiznit, fucking Monday before Christmas. I’m fucking excited for Christmas. It’s one of the more socially acceptable periods where you can be an utter disgusting fat ass. Pretty much everyone just eats to the point where they are rocketing awful, soul-crushing shits. Speaking of which, I’d like to mic half the toilets in the world during this time, and mix them into a caccophony of shit burst and groans of pain. I have absolutely no idea why that thought just came to me while I was typing this.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Watching / Avatar

I’m going to write up something about Avatar today. But it’s been on my mind since I saw it. I walked out of the theater with a huge smile and hard nipples. I’m happy to report I still have said huge smile and hard nipples.

Listening / Baroness, Blue Record

Breaking my own rule and discussing music for a second straight week, I’ve been listening to Baroness’ Blue Record non-stop. My friend Jesse said it sounded like Mastodon, which is always a good way to get me to listen to something. And he wasn’t kidding. I kept forgetting about the recommendation. That’s because I have the attention span of a gnat, drugged, and drowning in a pool of water. Which makes absolutely no sense. Whatever, fuck you. But then the other site foolish enough to let me contribute to them, Mishka, called it their #1 album of the year. So I was like, fuck, Drinkwater, get on that shit. And then I did. And then I liked it. So there.

Drinking / Diet Mountain Dew

I’m currently on my fifth can of Diet Mountain Dew of the writing session. Not of the day, mind you. That would be merely pedestrian. Pepsibones told me earlier that I should punch a hole in the refrigerator. Then I told him I only needed a couple more cans until that was feasible. I would disrupt the refrigerator’s molecular structure. I secretly wish that my caffeine addiction would alter me at some genetic level should I could be a superhero. You know, super powers and shit.

Unfortunately, I think this superpower is going to be called “Dying in a hospital of a brain tumor from too many chemicals ingested daily.”