What’s up, fools? Would you know that Rendar Frankandbeans is straight up out of the country? Yeah, player. He’s on some magical mystery journey pretending he’s Ernest Hemingway or some shit. I have a nagging suspicion that he’s going to come back with the Great Grumpy White Guy Novel of the next century. Drop it on my desk and slap me across the face. It’s just brotherly love. With him meandering about, and the other of the OL Founding Fathers out of the country as well, I’m all alone.

I have no pants on. I’m eating laffy taffy by the bucketful. My children are quickly drying on my stomach. This is how life should be lived. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I have someone greater to answer to, one who inspires more fear and reverence than the two of them. Mrs. Caffeine Powered. Every day she’s with me is a fucking gift, one that I respect by only occasionally ripping ass and drooling on myself.

This column right here is MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE. Within the confines of this most Monday of columns, us capitalist grind monkeys share the various artistic afflictions that give us lives meaning amid the grind. For within these arts we cajole ourselves into enjoying ourselves, despite the banality of the everyday.

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I’m only posting about El-P’s song “The Full Retard” to rub up on the entire album that it’s from, Cancer4Cure. Woah baby. I’ve always been a fan of El-P’s production credits on shiz for heroes of mine like Aesop Rock, but with this album he has vaulted directly into my soul. Don’t let the obvious choice for single choose you, the album has some spine to it. It’s a depressingly dystopian middle finger to the sprawling police state, drug usage, and does all this while asking asking and then answering the question, “What’s worth dying for?”

I’m in love.

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