#Slop Culture
Monday Morning Commute: Cloudgatherer’s Trial
Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute!
This is the storage compartment of Spaceship OL dedicated to all the various bits of entertainment we’ll be using to get through the workweek. Think of it as an anti-boredom armory. After I show you the wares I’ll be using to fend off the ennui-goblins, hit up the comments section and do the same.
Let’s rock!
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NIC CAGE goes VOLTRON. Assemble the flesh-based doombot.
And in that moment, as the tides of blood washed upon the shores of our collective consciousness, there arose a hero forged for such an occasion.
The Meming of Life:
Ordinary Muslim VS. Successful Black Man
That’s it. Enough! I’m sick and tired of all the damn stereotypes! So are these guys. Our friends Ordinary Muslim Man, and Successful Black Man might seem like a couple of meme’s slathered in a buttery bigotry creme sauce. But at their best, they provide a deeper underlying message about casting off our individual cultural identities and finding a place for ourselves in the black hole of mainstream (American) culture. Shit is deep, yo.
Disney World kicks dude out for looking TOO MUCH like Santa Claus. Harsh, yo.
What sort of hell do we live in, when two fat pigs of capitalistic child-warping can’t live in harmony? I beg you.
Monday Morning Commute: Transcender’s First Headache.
Transcender knew he was in for a world of shit.
He’d woken up from his Post-Lunar nap a bit early. Which wasn’t unusual. But rather than waiting for Larissa – the lab assistant with the big smile and bigger bust – to help him out of his pod, he crawled out on his own. Everyone on the Station knew that rule number one is that Transcender was never to be left to his own devices.
Especially after a nap.
Running a hand through his beard, Transcender gazed out the bay window and laughed to himself. “Sweet Man-Jesus, where’ve they sent me now? Is that Saturn? Oh, if Rodrigo could see this, he’d prolapse for sure!”
Had he studied the mission plans as thoroughly as he told Doc he would, Transcender would’ve known that they were far, far past Saturn.
Transcender Yonder’s attention was fully directed out the window, on the satellites and comets he’d soon be smashing to pieces, when a breeze of bitter wonder wafted into his nose. He immediately spun around, balancing best he could while his muscles readjusted to the artificial gravity, and began searching for the source of the smell. Other than his pod, all that was in the room was sterility – medical instruments, monitors, a vacuum.
And, much to Transcender’s delight, a coffee pot.
Fast as he could, the Meta-Man approached the coffee pot, threw back its lid, and poured the contents into unhinged gullet. Having never tasted coffee before, Transcender basked in the wonder of simply experiencing something new. Coffee! Aha! So this is what they drink when they wake up! A fine concoction! Chemically stimulating and socially facilitating!
But then Transcender’s hyper-sensitive neurons kicked into gear.
Larissa walked into the room just in time to see the six-foot-six ubermensch fall to his knees. He clutched at his left eye and screamed, “I have the pressure of a dying star within my skull! Sweet-mammaried Larissa, save me! I beg of you!”
Without hesitation, Larissa picked up the phone on the wall and dialed zero. “Doc? Yeah, it’s me. Looks like he got into the coffee. Yeah, Transcender’s having his first headache.”
Already knowing the answer, Transcender Yonder looked up and asked sheepishly, “Am I in trouble?”
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This is the Monday Morning Commute. I’m going to run through the things I’ll be doing to entertain myself during the week. Then, you hit up the comments section and do the same. Hell, ain’t this the whole damn point of the Internet?
Let’s rock.
OPEN FOR BUSINESS: The OL Store!
Come one, come all! This day’s been in the making for longer than we’d like to admit, but it’s finally here! Today, we officially open the OL STORE!
We’ve taken the same overcaffeinated, slightly-delusional, fun-lovin’ panache we put into our posts and smeared it all over some t-shirts. The result? Nerd-culture t-shirts that’re bound to inspire conversation wherever you go – the supermarket checkout line, the watering hole of your choice, or your weekly D&D session.
Round One of the great OL STORE battle royale sees eight different designs climbin’ into the ring. Hit the jump to hyperspace, grab an ice-cold Pepsi, and check out our wares!
Dude with the world’s LARGEST PENIS faced trouble at San Fran AIRPORT SECURITY over said package. C’mon now.
I remember reading about this dude a while back in Rolling Stone and feeling sorry for the son of a bitch. I always thought having the world’s largest hog would be dope, but it is more impractical than anything. Now dude is getting hung up at airports and shit for his mini-cannon.
WEEKEND OPEN BAR: Close Encounters of the Awesome Kind!
[WEEKEND OPEN BAR: The one-stop ramble-about-anything weekend post at OL. Comment on the topic at hand. Tell us how drunk you are. Describe a comic you bought. This is your chance to bring the party.]
Love `em or fear `em, there’s no denyin’ that extraterrestrials are an absolute fixture of our pop-culture consciousness.
Aliens have been depicted in variety of forms, from the benevolent bestowers of universal knowledge that helped build the pyramids to the nefarious sons-of-bitches that ruined Jeff Goldblum’s Fourth of July. Some spacemen want to go home. Others just want to call their folks. And the worst of `em want to kill Danny Glover.
Coming from outer-space (and thus being the most foreign specimens imaginable), aliens are elicit more fear, joy, and awe than anything on Earth. Who amongst us hasn’t looked to the skies and wondered whether or not we’d be visited by someone – or something – from beyond? You might’ve been inspired or horrified or curious, but I have no doubt that the thought’s crossed your mind.
So, the prompt for our open-bar: Who is your favorite extraterrestrial?
Monday Morning Commute: murder the cubs.
Old hands to the back, newcomers to the front. This here’s an introduction and I want to make sure there ain’t no damn confusion! My name is Rendar Frankenstein and I’m a hack-writer, born-again optimist, and caffeine junkie.
It ain’t a perfect life, but I like it just fine.
The quaint piece of scrap metal I’m currently tryin’ to lodge into your brain is the Monday Morning Commute! I’m goin’ to show you the various bits of entertainment I’ll be pouring milk over and chompin’ on in the hopes of warding off ennui-illness. Then, you hit up the comments section and tell us what you’ll be doin’ for esses and gees.
It’s a big, sweaty, nerd-based version of show’n’tell.
Let’s dance.
Monday Morning Commute: Jungle Growls and Breaking Glass
It was a real, mean-as-hell, man-eating tiger.
He tried to assuage my anxieties. “A pot of coffee wouldn’t affect a cat of thissere size. Neither would those there beers I fed it. Thawwaz just some fun for the tourists, get `em to toss me a coupla extra bucks. Tough `conomy means we all gotta scrappup bucks in ways we wouldn’t otherwise.”
But there was no way that I was going to feel comfortable. No matter what this guy told me. No matter how carefully the bus driver navigated through the streets. The fact of the matter was that on this particular commute home, I found my normal spot on Metro-Transit Bus 142 occupied by a seven hundred-pound feline that’d spent the day being force fed coffee and alcohol in the hopes of entertaining sunburnt yahoos. I was still six blocks away from my apartment, but I tipped my cap to the trainer and got off at the next stop.
Bus had barely vomited its fumes into my face when I heard jungle growls and smashing glass.
It was a real, mean-as-hell, man-eating tiger.
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Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! I’m going to show you some of the various ways I’ll be entertaining myself in the following days. Then you take your turn to hit up the comments section so as to display your own ennui-destroyers. What’re we all doin’ for fun these days?
Let’s find out!
