Well, friends, it’s another edition of the friggin’ OMEGA-CAST. Truthfully, I’ve been sitting on writing up this podcast post for a bit now. Cause, well, this one goes off the rails quickly. Or perhaps more accurately, into previously uncharted territory. Despite evidence to the contrary, Bateman and I are generally completely in-sync with one another. From personal tastes, to underlying ideologies, and an unapologetic love of babes. Which is why I feel comfortable infinitely trolling him, and why he feels comfortable infinitely ingesting it. On this episode of the pod, for some reason, we open up about our mutually tumultuous childhoods. If you ever wondered how we both ended up the way we did, here’s a look at some of the psychological carnage. Aside from that? We get into Bateman’s quest to make ten-million dollars (seriously), uh some other stuff, and Final Fantasy XV. So, uh, enjoy!

Or you can skip all that and just enjoy Rendar going IN on Rogue One! Spoiler! He doesn’t like it. At all. 

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Good god damn, it’s the Weekend. Good god damn, I’m glad.

Can minimize the amount of time I’m stuffed into these ever-tightening pants, and maximize the amount of time I’m working towards further corpulence. It’s a merry sequence, a happied romance. I hope, oh I hope to do it with you folks. Here at the Weekend Open Bar. The weekly weekend invitation, nay, the weekly weekend invocation of the citizens of Space-Ship Omega. To gather around the digi-hearth and spend their weekend together. Sharing what we’re eating, sharing what we’re drinking, sharing what we’re reading. Sharing anything and everything! Drunken tales of anal gapes around Slurpee dispensers. Sober tales of contemplating. Anything and everything.

Good god damn, it’s the Weekend. Good god damn, I’m glad.

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A more perfect union, yo.

Hate and the hindbrain.

A more perfect union, yo.

The monsters and the levers.

A more perfect union, yo.

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I suppose, invariably, writing Monday Morning Commute on an actual Monday evening will find me: tired, stank-ass from the gym, palming my eye sockets attempting to figure out what to say. So, invariably, here we are. Here I am. Stank ass. Tired. Palming my eye sockets, praying to the Elder Ones to provide Divination. I’m tired, you’re tired. I’m somewhat fulfilled, in a somewhat fulfilling job, that compensates for its fulfillment by being tenuously existent from semester to semester, and perpetually stressful about said existence. But as the French Philosopher CaffPow once said, “C’est la adjunct life or some shit.” He said that. I said that. I hope you’re feeling at least as fulfilled as me, minus the stress, the perpetual scrotum-shrinking stress of contemplating the harrowing, horrifying prospects of what Next Semester Will Bring, less than a week into This Semester.

Fuck, fuck me, I’ve gotten myself off one of them Old Tangents. They used to be about how I beat my meat inconsolably to gifs of Katy Perry or some shit. Many moons ago. Now they’re just another tepid meat-case lamenting its tepidity whilst stuck in said meat-case, completely ignoring how Goddamn Good the meat-case has it Relative To So Much Of The World.

But, uh, buddy. Buddies. How are you folk-fuckers doing? What are you up to this week? Watching anything dope? What are you sweating? Anticipating playing anything dope? Sharing the answers to said questions is not cheating, folk-fuckers. No, in fact, it’s encouraged in this post here’s comments section. One could even say it’s the fucking raison d’être (the phrase popped into my head but truthfully I had to Google it to confirm it actually was a phrase) of this entire column. Generating a self-sustaining Community Bubble wherein we can share what we’re STOKED and JACKED for during a given week.

Me, this little ole devil? I’ll go first.

Hope to see you in the comments section! Folk-fuckers!

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I’m fucking tired, man. Like — way tired. Like — eyelids half closed. But here I am! But here we are. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where I share with you fellow rotting meat-sacks what I’m looking forward to each week. Furthermore, additionally, I then, with all my audacity, ask you to share what *you* anticipating across the next seven.

So! Without further ado, without further verbosity, without further self-indulgent blathering, let’s do this!

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It’s been, according to the CalculationWizards, two weeks since I’ve done a Desktop Thursday. That’s aiight-aiight-aiight. The reason? The reason(s)? I don’t know, man. Ennui? A lack of pictures taken during the week? Both? Neither? Both-Neither! But here I am-am-am. A new post! A new look at my world(s) across the past two weeks. Tangible, intangible, virtual, aesthetic, heroic. All goes! Share your own views in the comments section!

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The March of the Monsters.

It will reach its first crescendo, as they slither into the symbolic house of power this week. Here they come! Ancient ones! With gnarled fangs protruding from ruptured sockets. Here they come! With blasphemous sores upon oozing phalanges! Gnashing and beying for the life-force of the wounded, the wearied. Here they come! Tentacles and ill-intent! Here they come! Smashing and ripping and devouring. Here they come! Blood in their eyes, death in their mouths! Here they come!

What can you do? Shelter-in-place! Here! At the Space-Ship Omega! In this here post! Monday Morning Commute! By way of Tuesday Afternoon. Where we share what we’re doing this week, what we’re looking forward to this week. You know, when we’re not preparing the survival kits, building the house-sized umbrellas to shield our domiciles from the shrapnel borne out of shorn blood-meat from conquered deities.

The March of the Monsters.

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Last Friday evening my family and I gathered for a bit of delicious ass (and if you’re confused, ass is delicious) Mexican food to celebrate my birthday. As my brother left, he told us all to “enjoy the last two weekends in America” — a resonant, if not hyperbolic statement. That leaves us, friends, on the precipice of the Last Weekend In America — a resonant, if not hyperbolic statement.

In a country that seems to be unspooling (on both sides of the political spectrum, mind you, I choose no side in this fusillade of suck), what is there to do?

Why, spend some time with you folks at the Weekend Open Bar.

Gather round, folks. The Vampires at the Throat at here, have been here. But as they drink from us, let us drink together. There is Nowhere to go, so let’s go to Nowhere together.

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It’s the Weekend! Open Bar! Fuck, I know I’m late. Last night was a birthday dinner with family, rolled immediately into five hours of wrestling with Bateman. Oh! Lucha Underground. Oh! Wrestle Kingdom 11. Truthfully? I squeezed in a couple hours of Final Fantasy XV between the former ending and the latter beginning. Oh! No matter, no matter.

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Hey! Desktop Thursdays! Where I show you my goddamn worlds — populated by goddamn madness, beauty, reluctance, pensiveness, and really just a panoply of garbage!

Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I skipped last week. Sue me! I have a very good attorney, and though he specializes in Bird Law, I think he can probably do me right.

Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I’m over-caffeinated and ready. Oh, so ready. To rock! Here are views from across my existence the past two weeks. My worlds done tangible, done intangible, done textual. All of them, for your pleasure. I hope. Oh, I hope. You’ll share your own world(s) in the comments section!

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