Monday Morning Commute: The loneliness of the long distance space-ship pilot.

Hey friends. Straight-up static here on Space-Ship Omega. My life has been crazy lately. Frenzy. Frenzied! Busy. And all this madness taken me away from the controls. What about the rest of the crew? Great question. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Rendar Frankenstein has left the ship. Yup. Quietly departed during a movie night. Whilst you were all entertained by the Team Omega’s sweded version of They Live, Frankenstein grabbed a null-grav suit and fluttered away to a local exoplanet. Pluto? Staring in the mirror puffing his bubble pipe while blathering about the impermanence of pop culture references and stroking his non-existent beard. The Dude? Johnny Hotsauce? An arm wrestling match that’s been going on for nineteen days. Bateman? Triple bypass.

Just me. And you. Aboard the Space-Boat. Here is what I’m using to kill my loneliness.

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I’m going to see Catching Fire this weekend. I’m going to love it. I mean. Jennifer Lawrence. Dystopian societies. Jennifer Lawrence. Ham-fisted anti-society ramblings. Jennifer Lawrence.

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Few albums get me through the week like Pantera’s Far Beyond Driven. The current track that I’m spinning ad nauseam during hours upon hours of being stuck in traffic is Throes of Rejection. Not for everyone. Not at all! However for those of us to whom it speaks, oh boy does it ever speak.

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I need to read Flight by Sherman Alexie. It opens up with a quote from Slaughterhouse-Five, and seems to carry the same irreverence throughout the entire book. Won’t happen while I’m teaching, so this son of a bitch is going to need to wait until semester break.

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I’m playing Call of Duty: Ghosts. And I like it. Fuck the haters. It’s especially pretty on the PlayStation 4.

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Yeah I don’t know man I’m not feeling particularly inspired this week.

How about you.