It’s fucking July 24th! That can only mean one thing! My summer class is done! It’s fucking Friday! That can only mean one thing! I’m done with work for the week! It’s fucking Weekend Open Bar! That can only mean one thing! It’s time to gather in this column with fellow denizens of the Space-Ship OMEGA. Share what you’re doing this weekend!

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Roberta knew falling in love with Clauius, the thick-poled Cyborg was a mistake. He could see Infinity, perceive The All. His pistons would (practically) never age. His psyche could only expand. But still. Those eyes. That class. And don’t get me wrong. Clauius knew that falling in love with Roberta was a gamble only a foolish Flesh-Sack would make. She would age. Certainly, he was not immune to Entropy. But by the Circuitry Above, he could practically watch her decay happen in real-time. And when he sped up his relativistic perceptions, he did. But those eyes. And that brain. And so fell they love. Her programming and his programming (programmed by her programming) too much to overcome. For a moment, they will Find a Way. And for a moment we all Find a Way. There be romance, and mundanity, and hurt, and humping, and a cadre of other experiences. Most of them banal, some of them transcendent.

This is Monday Morning Commute | The arts, farts, blips, and blops that I look forward to during a given week. Share what you’re looking toward to. Join the community. Share your highlights, your misery.

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It’s the Weekend, man. Which means the Bar is Open! I’m feeling particularly relaxed this weekend. Most of this relaxation is due in part to the momentary lull in the Maelstrom that is Home Ownership. Purchase and Sale: signed. House appraisal by the bank: done. Now it’s merely a thousand or so documents to be faxed by us to the Corporate Overlords, and awaiting the official closing. Additionally, my summer class is winding down. Just one more week, and ain’t no teaching taking place during it (not my choice, but I will not complain about not having to lesson plan until September). So life is good. Relaxed, I dare say. So yeah, weekend is lining up to be a enjoyable: some Lucha Underground, some DVR purging, some time with Bae. Pizza, obviously.

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Oh shit! It’s been a hot minute since we dropped a podcast. Life! It happens. Since the last beleaguered, intoxicated collection of Omega Belligerence I’ve gone on a Bachelor Weekend with the Goons. Captured on the podcast! Seen Fury Road. Noted on the podcast! Gotten married, bought a house. Both on the podcast! But that’s not all. Us Four Usual Dickheads spit about a variety of topics. From True Detective, to the eternal debate in art of Form versus Content. From Bateman’s Mason Jar filled with his scabbed-off genital warts to Riff’s alcoholic slaying of Disney World. It’s all here.

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Fucking crap day, here. Just busy. Really fucking busy, and ineffective. My class smells blood, knowing the end of the semester is upon them next week. Today this led to a case of The Mondays in class writ large. A disaffection that was equalled in enormity only by the disruptiveness with which it manifested itself. In other words, no one gave a fuck, and everyone was talking. So class was going shit, and then during our mid-class break it became known to me through a squabble of error messages and beeping that the copier was. In fact. Fucking broken. In other words, I wasn’t able to make a copy of (what should have been) tonight’s reading. So what am I doing tomorrow? Fuck if I know. Today was the first day (and this is probably actually a good sign) in my 3+ years of teaching where I openly asked myself, “What the fuck am I doing wasting my time with this?” A shuddering, unrelenting tidal wave of bile-duct refuse and existential despair washed over me. And for it I have no answers, other than to hope it ebbs as well as flows. I’m sure it does.

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The Purchase & Sale is signed, folks. SAM-OMEGA and I are getting really, really close to thirty years of DEBT SLAVERY. And I’ll level with you: I could not be more excited. The idea of my own study, replete with fluid-splashed surroundings and toy shelves makes me excited. A giant ass backyard for a mutt-ass dog makes me excited. No longer living under Rock-Eating Typical Bostonians who scream wildly at the Prole-O-Vision while I’m trying to lesson plan for the next days’s class makes me excited. Now all that is left (and granted, this is a big “all that is left”) is the appraisal and the bank concretely agreeing to lend us, you know. Hundreds of thousands (*vomitvomitvomit*) of dollars. So come. Celebrate with me, here at Weekend Open Bar.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute Tuesday Evening Commute! Bit of a hectic week. The house I thought Sam-OMEGA and I weren’t buying we are now buying. Which means stripping our bank accounts down to the bone to sacrifice at the altar of the Debt Gods. On top of that there is the summer class I’m teaching. On top of the students I’m tutoring. On top of the hours upon hours of placement essays my co-workers and I are reading to decide which English class incoming freshmen will be enrolled into (yes, someone has made the mistake of placing me on a committee with that sort of authority). So yes.

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We’re celebrating Fourth of July weekend here in the Empire. That means the usual things, which have been enumerated some six or seven times here aboard the Space-Ship. Hormone-soaked beef. Testosterone-fueled chants of questionable supremacy. And other cynical shit. But it also means a great reason to gather ’round with your loved ones, throw back a few Adult Sodas, smoke some Shire Green, and have a good time. Not just your tangi-friends, either! But us, too. You know! Your favorite Monsters at the End of the Internet. So join us! At the Weekend Open Bar.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute, friends. It’s pretty much the end of the day here on the Eastern Coast of the Empire, but hey. I’m but one FictionMan, attempting to cobble together the disparate entities of the Space-Ship into one meandering husk. So forgive me! And I have to cop to you. A variety of Really Privileged Problems have me a bit worn down, today. Oh, I got married. Boohoo. Oh, I was lucky enough to come back and have to start my job I have immediately. Wah wah. Oh, I’m buying a house and all that financial expenditure is sort of terrifying. Cry more. I get it.

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