Weekend Open Bar: A Fury’d Mess

Weekend’s half over, and I’m just opening the bar. C’est la vie of a loser blogger with a moderately busy life and a poor sense of discipline. Crazy week. First week of the semester. No gentle ascent into the warm, welcoming arms of academic banality. No ma’am. No sir. Instead. Picture it. A rocket-ship. My ass gently dolloped onto the top of said rocket-ship. Instead. Picture it. Said rocket-ship rocketing into the atmosphere, my poor, sad flaccid dong-dong burning up. My hair a fury’d mess. My nipples chaffing under the duress of embracing former-Earth, my throat. Oh, my throat! A bloodied, shredded mess as I howl at the enormity of the next fifteen weeks, laugh at my general enjoyment of this madness, scream at my own anxiety and depressing encircling my brain-piece with their gnarled claws.

I’m here, though. At the Weekend Open Bar. I’m here though, hoping you’ll join me at said bar. Come hang out. Come tell me what you’re up to throughout this half-over Weekend. What are you eating-playing-reading-drinking-worshipping?

Let’s spend (half) the weekend together.