It’s Monday Morning Commute! That time of the week where I share the various shizit I’m going to be totally rubbin’ up upon during a given week. These proverbial (and literal) dry-humpings are intended as salves against the burn of Existence. Ultimately empty employments of distraction that prohibit me from achieving some sort of proletarian cathexis designed to Damn The Man. But let’s be honest. We can’t damn the man, that ship has sailed. So let’s watch superhero movies, drink beer, and enjoy our moments of frivolity.

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It’s the fucking weekend! Gather ye rosebuds while ye may! And fucking smoke them! Get lifted, ascend to a new level of Enlightenment! And then waste that Enlightenment on video games, comic books, hikes in the woods, eating too much! Whatever the fuck you want to do this weekend! But so long as you’re smoking them rose buds, crushing them Adult Sodas, and enjoying a break from the work week, hang out here! At the Weekend Open Bar! Anything goes as long as it is in the spirit of celebration. Unless it’s lighting your pubes on fire in the bathroom. We’ve had a spat of that lately (sorry), and we still can’t get the smell out of the pineapple wallpaper.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute aboard the Space-Ship OMEGA. Truth be told: there ain’t much commuting in Massachusetts on this wonderful day. It’s Patriots Day. Which, I’m pretty sure, is only celebrated here in the State that Spawned the Empire, You’re Welcome. But that doesn’t mean there ain’t a litany of things I’m looking forward to this week. So here is a lost of pop culture artifacts I’m absorbing into my ethereal corpus in an effort to deny myself the agony of existence. Be sure to share your own!

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It’s the fucking Weekend, yo! At least for me. I bailed on my job a smidgen early. Samantha (the bae) is getting home from a week on business in Lisbon, Portugal. So I was all like, “Yeah fuck helping the youth for the rest of the day. I’m going to get home, throw the crumbs off the bedsheets, and wash my ass.” And here I am! Unwashed, and drawing the Bar doors Open. If you’re new to this game, this little morsel of Omega is simple.

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Look at Matty Murdock. Holding a balloon. While he looks up to Hey-Zeus Cristos for guidance, he strikes me as a Sisyphean hero. His approach to life smacks of Rieux from The Plague. When Rieux is asked if he knows what it means to be a doctor during plague time he responds, “a never ending defeat.” Yet he dusts himself off, and carries on. Much like Matty. Much like all of us amidst the Pointless Expanse’s Grind. We are all Sisyphus. We must all hold balloons. And so to make this all fit into a dumb package: this is Monday Morning Commute. A list of the metaphorical balloons I shall be holding onto this week, begging them to lift me above the malaise.

Please share your own!

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This is Weekend Open Bar, and I have a confession to make: I am Brett Favre. Last week I firmly, firmly thought to myself, “I’m fucking done with Omega-Level.” Was seriously bumming. My brother doesn’t write any more, my favorite commenters don’t comment any more. Fuck you, Omega-Level. Fuck you. Any of the three people who come across the site may have thought the same thing. There were no new postings. Since I had, in fact, quit. But just like Brett Favre retiring/unretiring/retiring/unretiring, here I am. I just can’t quit.

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Welcome to the Weekend Open Bar! Where the BROS of any self-identified gender come together to hang out! Over the course of two days we share what we’re up to this weekend. You know. Typical shit. What show we’re binge watching on Netflix. What we’re eating. Funny GIFs. Terrible alcohol-fueled revelations we have while hugging the porcelain throne at 3 am after a night of mistakes.

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For the past dozen+ episodes of the OMEGA-CAST, Patrick Bateman has starred in a quality supporting role. However, this time the lovable, completely-stoned sociopath takes center stage in our descent into madness. Laugh at his non-sequiturs regarding the Powers that Be and the Televisor. Marvel at his input regarding the idea of concurrently developed sequels to one movie. Cower before his insanity when it comes to stalking celebrities online to “see how they’re doing.” From Star Wars canon to Dragon Age: Inquisition, he steals the show.

Listen on Stitcher, iTunes, or after the jump.

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Hello, True Believers! Degenerates! Booger Eaters! Slobs! Slovens! Functioning Human Beings! Individuals Excelling At Their Vocations! If you’re down with the Space-Ship, if you’re here by mistake, if you’re on the Fence and considering writing my Mother a strongly worded email. I want all of you! All of you to share what you’re up to this week. What’s getting you through the doldrums? This is Monday Morning Commute. And that’s the point of this column.

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Welcome to Tuesday Afternoon Commute! It’s your Captain! Caff-Pow! Choo choo! I’m currently championing all rides aboard the Malaise Train. Here on the Malaise Train we have a vague feeling that things aren’t that bad but who cares when we’re just a collection of borrowed atoms and at best like seventy years away from dissolution? Yeah man I need to read some Camus, find the Absurdist Purpose, and rally. But until then I’m going to share what I’m “enjoying” this week as I stare dead-eyed at my Tumblr feed.

Share your own diggings, perhaps they can penetrate my perpetual pall.

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