#July2015
Monday Morning Commute: ReAugment Your Proto-Body
Welcome back to Monday Morning Commute! Missed it last week. Was away. Being on a “honeymoon” with the “love of my life” doing “cool things.” Naw — I’m just fucking around. It was pretty fantastic. But here I am. A year-and-a-half journey has come to its end and now SAM-OMEGA and I “on to the next chapter of our life”, which hopefully doesn’t “cost thousands upon thousands of dollars” to live out like the previous one.
Weekend Open Bar: THE BROS INCARNATE
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.
Views From The Space-Ship: The Diet Dew Calamity of 2015
Been a minute since I’ve shared a view from the Space-Ship. Life, it finds a way. That’s what they say. But they don’t finish the statement. Life, it finds a way to become really overwhelming, depressing, complicated, and confusing. But here I am! I think, I think I’m through my latest batch of depressing existential agony. Ready to reengage. Here’s my life. I’d love to see you share yours.
Weekend Open Bar: Eat Sleep Conquer Repeat
You’re alive, yo. Day after day you’re telling Death “No” and sauntering on in the Oblivion that is a Godless, Apathetic Existence. There’s something to appreciate in that effort alone. You’re Conquering the Drive to give into Entropy. Someday you’ll stagger, fall, maybe even tap. Don’t take it personally, don’t take it as a slight against your character. Even the Universe is mortal. But for now, while we persist, let’s body slam existence together. Celebrate the Weekend with this Open Bar.
Monday Morning Commute: reality lies
Reality is, at best, a tenuous set of consensual hallucinations that we share with one another. Our greasy faces, our fat, gibbering jowls, our swollen, offensive ocular meat-balls all nodding in agreement at the barest, most pathetic concept of reality we hew together as Man. But hey. What the fuck do you want out of me? I can’t do shit about it. #YOLO So I’m going to live my life, dimly aware that my beliefs are conjured by a primitive brain-steak based on embarrassingly limited means of perception, and also play some video games. Love my fellow man. Hold doors, say please and thank you. Read some books. And watch Brock Lesnar give people the F5. ‘Cause really there’s no reason to do otherwise.
This is Monday Morning Commute – the column where we list the various ways we’re staving off staring into the Abyss and realizing how fucking Dumb It All Is. Generally these ways take the form of arts, farts, cheap beers, and ideally – Skittles.
I’ll go first.
Monday Morning Commute: Robot Love at the End of the Galaxy
Saddle up to your robo-partner and plant a smooch right on their Metallic Dome-Piece. This is Monday Morning Commute and I want both you and your Android to be comfortable enough around me to share the various things you’re looking forward to this week. Be it a comic book, a Gathering of the Juggalos, or the new bang session you’re going to partake in with Shiela-Charles-Mach-IV. You can tell us. We know you’ve been saving up for the ultra-smooth, yet insistingly thorough pelvic-pistons with your Cyborg Bitty.
BROCK LESNAR Hangs An F5 On JOHN CENA’S Dumb Ass
I don’t watch wrestling, but I may need to start. I know The Rock is back, and just today I had this video emailed to me from Patrick Bateman OL’s programmer and resident sociopath. I genuinely enjoy Brock Lesnar as a super-douche hyper-real humanoid character, and I’ve always wanted to lay a stink on John Cena for ruining one of the greatest things in the world: jorts.
Hit the jump to watch Lesnar blast the choad with a ferocity unmatched by anywhere the seven winds cover.
Video: Brock Lesnar Shoots Prairie Dogs While Metal Plays. Jerky Is Eaten.
If anyone doesn’t think the United States of America is the best country, they can be persuaded with this video. It’s Brock Lesnar blasting prairie dogs with enormous guns while righteous metal is shredding in the background. Still not sold? Motherfucker pounds jerky between shots, loading up on salt-soaked flesh to power his insane blood lust. It’s all an advertisement for Fusion Ammo and Jack Link’s jerky. The same ammo that was used to stop Lenin during the Civil War from destroying the Alamo.
Hit the jump for the video, bask in our culture of domination.
