#Weekend Open Bar
Weekend Open Bar: We’re trying to plug a hole in the universe!
Ah! A toast to the Elder Ones for allowing me to make it to another Weekend. I am currently caught in some sort of time-displacement, shuffling between the expansion and contraction of Linear-ExistenSpace. Weeks that fly by, while feeling draining. Moments that drag on, while evaporating at impressive speeds. But that’s neither here nor there, for the next couple of days! It’s the Weekend! And with that comes the Open Bar.
No Comments
Weekend Open Bar: Go Van Gogh on a house rat!
It’s the freakin’ Weekend, baby! Halloween Weekend, to be exact! Slice your flesh-sack, provide the blood to the altar! Summon a wonderful fucking weekend for yourself, and the other denizens of the Perpetually Decaying Universe! Entropy! Ain’t nothing more fucking terrifying than that! But we’re here! We’re here, together! So let’s hang out at the Open Bar!
Weekend Open Bar: We Can Do Better
It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby! And piggybacking off last week’s belief that sometimes the longest weeks are the shortest ones, these past five days of work-grind have flown by far quicker than last week’s Genocide-Sponsored Shortened Sequence. Where did the time go? Where does the time go? Who gives a flying futz, so long as the weekend gets here with alacrity!
With the weekend comes this column, Weekend Open Bar. The weekly descent into banality, joviality, and camaraderie! Step on in with me! Share what you’re doing these next couple of days! Are you watching Sport? Are you playing Game? Are you drinking Adult Sodas? Do you have a Gif or a Musing or a Recipe?
Weekend Open Bar: We Were Promised The Stars
It’s that time again! Weekend Open Bar! I am turning the sign on a bit late tonight, having gone straight from work to my parents’ house. Crushed some pizza. Hung out with Rendar and his Better Half. Now? Now I’m putting this column up before I go and hopefully play Destiny: The Taken King for a solid three hours or so!
This is! Weekend Open Bar! The column at the end of the Work Week/Internet/Universe where I invite you to join me every weekend. Come share what you’re doing this weekend. What you’re wearing. What you’re reading. The comic books you’re worshipping, the flavor of the boogers (argh, allergies!) you’re feeling slide down the back of your throat! Anything! Everything! Gifs, gabs, gestures towards Deities Who Have Abandoned You. It’s all fair game, here. Just come hang out.
Weekend Open Bar: The Time Clyde Crashed The Moon Into Eurasia
A goddamn long weekend is arriving here in the Empire Proper. And I’m stoked, standing at the intersection between Taking The Day Off Regardless and Lamenting Its Celebrating That Genocidal Guy. Leaning heavily towards taking any extra day off though, to be honest. And so! Long weekend, afoot!
Let’s celebrate it in the Weekend Open Bar. Together!
Weekend Open Bar: The End of the Universe Is A Puzzle
Hello friends of the Space-Ship. It’s been a minute since I cracked open the door on of those Communal Columns. But here I am. It’s been a week. It’s been a couple of weeks, honestly. We’ve owned a dog for three weeks. In that time, we’ve had to take her to the doctor four times. Including an emergency room visit. Turns out she has a bum ticker (which, as it stands now, may just be something she *lives with* instead of *dies from*, cross your fingers).
Weekend Open Bar: Clotheslines to the Closed Minds!
Salutations, comrades. And welcome to another installment of Weekend Open Bar. Round these here parts, during this here column, we typically gather and shoot the breeze during the aforementioned Weekend. Slough off our LunarLandingCompany overalls, scrub the MoonCoal out from underneath our fingernails, and existentially convalesce. With each other. Oh, what does that convalescence look like?
Weekend Open Bar: They Were Promised Freedom; They Received Double-XL Pizza
Oh shit! And a good weekend to you, as well! This is the Weekend Open Bar, the one-stop madness-shop for hanging out on the weekend. That is! If you’re a frequenter of the Space-Ship Omega. That is! If you’ve just wandered by (you poor soul) and found us this weekend. Join us! Join us, all of you. And do what? Great question!
Weekend Open Bar: You would *not* believe the deal we got on our digi-afterlife
It’s that glorious time again, comrades. That’s right! That’s correct! That’s precisely it. It’s time to kick-in the doors of the Weekend Open Bar. Flock to our designated *favorite* tables in the musty, dank-ass-air-filled tavern here on the Space-Ship Omega. It’s that glorious time again, comrades. For us to sit around the aforementioned tables, sharing with one another the glory that is the hypothetical weekend. I know some of you have the weekend off. I know that some of you have a long weekend. I know that some of you unfortunately have to work. But whatever your Existent Conditions are here in the OMNIVERSE, I hope you’ll join in the camaraderie.
Weekend Open Bar: Surf The Astral With Jack Kirby’s Ethereal Form
In this post-modern world, where we doubt ourselves, our expressions, our very reality, not much is certain. At least for those of us who ascribe those wanky, somewhat debatable beliefs to Reality. But I think there’s one thing those of us who enjoy funny books and post-modernism can agree upon. One pointed, penetrating, non-perishable truth. That pierces through the pall of Post-Modernity: Jack Kirby is as awesome as it gets. In Reality. He’s the Best. And today, August 28, 2015, he would have been 98. Now sadly (for us, not him) he’s sloughed his mortal coil, transcended its greasy, entropy-bound parameters. But he’s still out there, surfing the gnarly astral waves. Beckoning us to join him. And while it is not our time to join him yet, let us honor Kirby.
