This is a very good song.

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Hello, friends. Come in, come in. Grab your voucher for a free download of RelaxYourFatCorpus.exe and let the soothing algorithms greetyour meat-processor. It’s the weekend. This is the OpenBar. The weekly one-stop for the populace of Space-Ship OMEGA to gather. Take off our shoes. Take off our pants. Shake one another’s hands (?). Then straight DigiChill.

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I’m just tired today, man. I don’t know what is is, perhaps just a case of the Mondays? Or maybe I’m just feeling a bit of the ennui because there’s nothing I’m really looking forward to this week? Usually I have something to hang my hat on – a new episode of a fave show, a new comic book dropping, or at the very least, a movie to entertain my brain-box. This week, though? Nothing, man. Nothing new at least. Just the usual week. Sam’s going away Saturday for business, I’m still overeating, America’s Favorite Fascist keeps running primaries. It’s pretty much stasis for this guy.

But uh, I suppose I am digging some stuff? Maybe?

I’ll share my sweatings for the seven days coming. Then hopefully you inspire me.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Oh come all ye degenerates, the Bar is Open. It’s the Weekend. Let us gather around the slime-soaked tavern fire, spitting whimsy and regret. Spitting about what we’re doing this weekend. Be it a movie we’re going to see, a meal we’re going to eat, a transdimensional omnisexual Manta-Beast we’re going to bang.

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Got my sweatpants on. Got dinner in my guts. Got Monday Night RAW on the television. Life is good. Life is good. Typing out Monday Morning Commute. The column where we share what we’re looking forward to during a week. The movies that we wanna watch, maybe the albums that are hitting our ear drums, the comic books that are rocking our fanboy balls.

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I’m getting real shit at publishing a weekend column at the start of the weekend. Man! Fuck! But yesterday was busy, hopscotching from work, to dinner with a mentor, to an entire bag of Sour Patch Watermelons, to staring at the IdiotBox for three or so hours. I’m here now, though, and I’m hoping I can lure you in as well! This is Weekend Open Bar, the weekly column where we all hang out.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute, scum-lords. It’s a fairly nondescript week for me. Nothing really coming up. Maybe seeing a flick with the BetterHalf. Listening to TheMusic. Spending time in VideoGameWorld. Some weeks the world pops, with a litany of excitement awaiting me. Some weeks the world drags, offering up nothing special in the way of respite from the grind.

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It’s Weekend Open Bar! Let’s kick this off. With alacrity! The weekly column where the reckless degenerates and-or savory, wonderful souls of Space-Ship Omega gather. Holding hands, holding eye contact, we discuss with vim and vigor our Weekend Plans.

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Ain’t no commuting for me, today! Remember how last Friday I mentioned that I called an audible and opted-out of commuting in the fucking snow? Well — today — the UniversityCzars saw fit to pull the plug on the school day. I don’t know if it has anything to do (I imagine it doesn’t, but it’s hilarious to track the students’ apoplexy on the social media platform) with the countless caterwauling of students towards them on Twitter for not cancelling Friday, but the school did it. No school. No commute. Just me, my unwashed ass, and the dim glow of the ForeverBox pumping in the EndlessEchoChamberof(Non)News and Banality. Maybe a dog walk (or two). Relaxing. Wife’s home, too. I’ll take these Circumstances.

However! Just because I ain’t commuting today, don’t mean that I don’t have to share with you what I’m up to this week! So this is still Monday Morning Commute!

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It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby! It’s Weekend Open Bar, baby! At least for me. Hitting a bit early, too. Goddamn first significant snow storm of the year is currently rampaging its way through the guts of Massachusetts’ coast, and yet! And yet! My fucking university didn’t cancel class. All the schools-universities-establishments-basement latex fuck dungeons are closed for the day! But not mine. Not even though it’s a fucking commuter school. So I called an audible and canceled my class, myself.

Ain’t no way I’m taking my 2007 Civic with its bald ass tires and death-wish (it has told me after three years of me sneezing on it, farting in, and vaguely rubbing my penis in traffic while driving in it, that it longs for oblivion) onto these terrible roads.

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