MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE: Death Rays for Deadbeats!
When the cultists descend from the Mountains, they’ll find my dessicated corpse next to the Xbox 360. If they’re willing to interact with the rot-flesh, perchance they could save my game. One last final save of my Mass Effect 3 playthrough, sending the file to a cloud server that no longer heeded requests. This is the way the world ends. A landfill of forgotten files on servers, leftover Netflix subscriptions no longer churning out endless episodes of Twin Peaks. Oh, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where all us barely-evolved monkeys with keys to the Nanoverse share the things that are entertaining us on a given week. What are you partaking in this week, you turkeys?
Watching: The Hobbit.
The Hobbit is dropping this week, and I’m going to level with you. A bit worried about it. I’ve been attempting to stuff my expectations back into my pants, where they can hang out with my slimy dong-parts. Deep, deep, down there, there is no allowance for the sunlight of hype. The enthusiasm cannot be soaked with the photosynthetic wonder of hyperbole. Why? ‘Cause I am going to be shocked if this movie isn’t a bloated mess. Prediction? Some excellence. Some self-indulgent stalling. An enjoyable bloat.
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Reading: Avengers #1.
J-Hicks and his boy Jerome Opena brought the thunder with their first issue of Avengers. Fucking loved it. Hickman has answered the bell when it comes to justifying the flagship title Avengers title in a market that has seen them spread like a rot-nut plague. You grow the title larger, embrace headier ideas. Then you bring in Jerome Opena to utterly fucking crush it on pencils. Yes, yes, yes.
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Going to: Cowville.
Moo! This weekend I’m going to Cowville with the Mrs. She lives in a little yokel bastion right near Syracuse, and we have to roll there on Friday for her family Christmas. Dios mio! It ain’t actually that bad. A nice batch of the fresh air to reinvigorate the lungs. My alveoli bless me for daring to incorporate oxygen into my system that isn’t laced with too many carcinogens. Plus, she has promised me that we can catch the aforementioned Hobbit. Yeah, child status. Give me my treats, pack my binky bag. Caffeine and motion pictures will fill my hours.
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Wanting to play: Far Cry 3
Oh goddamn everything. I’m not even finished with Dishonored, and I’m being tempted to buy this jam. This bad boy has to be the sleeper heat of the Winter. You know, if an installment in an enormous franchise can be considered a sleeper. Skyrim with guns? Sign me the fuck up! Is anyone around these parts playing this game? I need that final push over the edge into Consumption Mode. Once there, I will purchase it. I won’t stop there though, folks! Fuck no! Seventeen pounds of jelly beans? Thirty dollars worth of water-based genital slather? Amazon Prime will answer me! It’ll answer my balls! Or call.
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So uh, what are you guys and gals enjoying this week?