#Weekend Open Bar
Weekend Open Bar: The Sun Sets On Forever
hawaii | sachiko
The summer drags on, man.
As I predicted a bit ago, I knew I was going to find myself melancholic as I found myself stranded in the liminal state between Summer Teaching and Fall Teaching. At first it was great. Sleeping in late. No lesson planning. Rocking shorts every day! Shorts, every day! Then the tedium set in.
My wife went away today, she’s going to be away, for something like thirteen out of sixteen days. At first it was great. I’ve jacked off fourteen times, walked the dog twice, crushed nineteen Diet Dew, and marveled at what freedom I have. Then the tedium set in.
The summer drags on, man.
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Weekend Open Bar: The World’s Worst Detectives
Come one, come all.
It’s Hot as Fuck along the Northeastern seaboard of the Empire. Our West Coast comrades seem to be dealing with their own Raging Fires and Non-Moisture. And the Midwest? The Rest of the Earth? I don’t know, but I imagine there are Failings and Fantastic Findings there as well.
Come one, come all.
To the Weekend Open Bar. Soothe your scorched Existence with a cold ale, a back rub that lingers perhaps a bit too long from yours truly, and some good old fashion Shooting of the Shit with fellow kind pop culture kindred. Let’s hang out across the next couple of days, sharing what we’re doing to enjoy Life.
Weekend Open Bar: Kids On Bikes / Stars In Space
降雨kōu-sjø-1990
Finally, the Bar is back! Finally, the Bar is Open! Where have I been? Where have you been? A blinking cursor staring at an unclicking keyboard, attempting to nudge an illusory mousepad. Right? Right! Right? Right! I think, if the synapses are firing correctly, and oh god are they never firing correctly anymore, that this is my second week off from the (welcomed) grind of summer teaching. I’ve been filling my (non)free hours with posting dumb memes on OL’s Facebook page, tutoring students on campus, eating too little, conversely at times eating far too much, and occasionally playing Rise of the Tomb Raider and Borderlands 2.
Oh. And oh! Oh. And oh!! Oh. And oh!!! I’ve also been obsessing over Stranger Things which really should be called Boner Things or perhaps more accurately An Array of Things In The Guise of a Television Show That Give Me A Boner. Not sure why they didn’t go with that title, but I suppose one’s flaws serve only to point out their perfections. Or, in my case, to keep me from getting laid the first twenty-five years of my life and suffer through wearing an uncomfortable though familiar shawl of self-doubt and insecurities. But we can talk about that more! Later! Oh, where, when, later?
How about here, in the comments section, of Weekend Open Bar!
The weekly column where I encourage those of you kind enough, brave enough, pitying enough, lonely enough, horny enough, strong enough, gassy enough, brash enough to share what you’re up to during a given weekend.
Share what you’re eating. Share what you’re watching. Share what you’re playing. Fuck it, tell me what’s giving you a boner. I don’t care! We’re all friends! We’re all family! You’re all getting a toenail and a used pair of underwear of mine when I die, so fuck, you know you’re close to me.
Weekend Open Bar: The Fetish is the Fashion is the Fetish
Yesterday, I finished the last day of the summer class that I teach at UMass Boston. I am celebrating as only I, CaffDouche, can. Which is to say I’m currently eating Chez-Its, sipping directly from a 2 Liter of Pepsi Max, and playing Rise of the Tomb Raider after a long, under-caffeinated day. It’s a gratifying sensation to know that I’m done lesson planning (but not done working, this prole sallies forth like most others) for the summer. Six-weeks of being able to just beat that meat and game that game and read that comic without having to withdraw into pedagogical tomfoolery. But it’s also a bit melancholic, as six-weeks starts off sounding wonderful and slowly metamorphosizes into feeling interminable. These days, it feels culturally anathema to say you like your job. I do, though. Guilty. It’s rewarding, challenging, stimulating, and as dynamic as it gets.
I must not cop to that, though.
I’ll be ousted.
From my Millennial Generation, where self-loathing memes, anxiety, and a general pall seem to engulf the various news-feeds anyone internet-addicted and my age frequent.
Certainly, I understand the occasional bout of despair. The Earth is melting, when it’s not busy devolving into a rotting garbage heap. The United States’ election is being decided between a Crook and a Despot. We’re still not on Mars, we’re still fighting over oil and Sky People. So. Yeah. Certainly, I understand the occasional bout of despair.
But it’s exhausting man! And I won’t stand for it. Not today! Today, being the first day of my six-week break from wearing pants (I’ll be wearing shorts, but fuck pants until September 6). Not today! Being Saturday, the first day of my glorious weekend. Not today! Why, instead of leaning into the perpetual pall of misery and malaise, we could all embrace the glory of Weekend Open Bar!
Weekend Open Bar: Arcade Summer
Welcome, friends. To the Extended Weekend Open Bar! Carrying us through the Fourth of July. For those of you lucky enough to have a long weekend, salutations! For those of you unlucky enough to have to work either this Weekend, or the Fourth, salutations anyways! I imagine there’s going to be some seared-flesh breath being aspirated at the computer screens and black mirrors as you folks hopefully join the Bar. Contributing to the camaraderie on the Space-Ship omega whenever you take a break from doing your duty of celebrating God’s Finest Creation, America. By consuming animals, hops, and igniting conversations at cookouts and fire-based sky sparkles.
If you don’t know, the Weekend Open Bar is your virtual one-stop for shooting the shit during the weekend. As Head Czar of the Space-Ship, I encourage one and all to share what they’re up to. Share the animal-flesh you’re going to sear in supplication to George Washington. Share the movie you’re going to see, doing your American best to prop up our economy. Share what you’re reading at the beach. Whatever you’re doing, join in.
Weekend Open Bar: Outside Inside The Metaverse
Western Civilization seems to be flinging itself to pieces in 2016, friends. But unfortunately, Professor Faber, we can’t stand back from the Centrifuge. We’re stuffed inside it, together. It’s hard to believe, maybe it really isn’t happening, who knows. I live a Privileged Life, stuffed in a suburb in a leafy part of the Empire. It’s easy to believe, maybe it really is happening, as I work with students whose tales make me blanch, make me grateful, make wish I could do more. I don’t know. I know few things and understand even less. What I do know, what I do believe in, are what Vonnegut urged us to create. You know, I believe him when he said that the “daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured“, and that is why Weekend Open Bar exists.
Across the two-dimensional plane of the three-dimensional Metaverse within one small speck of the omni-dimensional Universe, we can gather. Spend the Weekend together.
It’s small, and its minute, but it’s what we got. If we’re lucky.
A conjuring of a hopeful gathering sparred on by words and technologies and expressions.
It’s small, and its minute, but it’s what we got. If we’re lucky.
So join me, this Weekend, friends. Let’s shoot the shit about what we’re up to. The food we’re eating (so much goddamn pizza, so much goddamn ice cream), the games we’re playing (DOOM and The Last of Us), the books we’re reading (Nemesis Games). Anything and everything, really. Here aboard the Space-Ship Omega is an attempt at generating one of them communities. ‘Cause Space is cold, Life is Short, and it All seems to be better when spent with kind, like-minded individuals.
So join me this Weekend, friends.
Weekend Open Bar: Hack The Planet(s)
My wife tells me she ain’t waiting for me to eat the pizza. The pizza, it’s coming. This can only mean one thing: I must sprint as quickly as I can to open the Bar. The Weekend Open Bar. Turn on the halogen lights, kick the mechanized kegs of moon-juice to get them cranking. Dust the blood, tears, and forgotten ass-relics off of the chairs. And welcome you! Welcome you to the Weekend Open Bar!
The column at the (theoretical) end of the Work Week/Internet/Good Taste. Every week we gather, oh we gather! We share what we’re going to be eating (pizza!, and more!), what we’re going to be playing, what we’re going to be reading. Really, sharing anything. Half-baked thoughts about the End of the World, half-aroused thoughts about 1980’s babes (Kelly Lebrock from Weird Science haunts me), half-indecent proclamations about whatever sort of gastronomic problems that eighth burrito gave you.
Anything. Everything. So long as it follows the golden rule: thou shall not douche.
Weekend Open Bar: Awash In The Digital Sea
Welcome one, welcome all to Weekend Open Bar. The weekly weekend column where those of us lucky enough to have the next couple of days off (and those unlucky enough to not have them off, too) gather around the Digital Hearth. We share stories of what we’re going to be doing to enjoy our weekend. We share stories of the games we’re going to play, the movies we’re going to watch. We share stories of the meals we’re going to eat, the mistakes we’re going to make.
And go ahead! Make mistakes! Kiss that guy you can’t see yourself with long-term. Eat that twelfth slice of pizza. Play Overwatch until 6:30 am, bleary-eyed and too caffeinated to sleep well. Too hungover to yield a non-spinning room. And go ahead! Make mistakes!
Weekend Open Bar: All’s Left Is The Entropic Collapse
Man, I don’t know what’s going on with my country. We’re spinning apart at both ends of the rigged political, we got heat waves, virii, droughts, colossal tornados. Both cheap metaphorical, and literal storms brewing. Man, I don’t know what’s going on with this planet. Same problems, larger scale, fewer solutions. Man, I don’t know what’s going on with this Universe. Fucking Fermi Paradox like “Hey”, fucking Entropy like “Stop Me, Bro!”
What do I know, though? It’s a long weekend. This is the Open Bar. And despite the being up to our knees in calamities on a cosmic, planetary, and national level, I’m still enjoying my life. What can you do, but dance as the Palaces burn (If you’re lucky enough)? What can you do, but share the weekend with your loved ones, friends, family, and hopefully me (If you’re lucky enough)?
Weekend Open Bar: Heartbreak At The Meteor Motel
I’m so bad about actually posting original content these days. Staggering even my MMCs and my Weekend Open Bars. Mea culpa, mea lazy, mea mea, something something! But I’m opening the bar! Goddamn Saturday night! But I’m opening the bar! Goddamn last, ain’t no one gonna come! You reap what you sow! Which is why I have terrible gas, a shitty beard, and low audience participation!
I hope you’ll saddle up to the bar! Though it be late, opened. I hope you’re share what you’re up to across the rest of the weekend! Though it be late, my inquiry.
