We’re getting deep into summer now, friends. With such a progression brings deeper, more rewarding dusk. However, it also brings with it shorter days, longer shadows, and hints at a Fall which promises to be seemingly chaotic at best. But as I said Monday, in the end we’re promised nothing. Nothing! Fucking nothing at all. Which means I might as well enjoy the beautiful dusks and the welcoming evenings while I can, no? Who knows what next week will bring for me. Really, for all of us. Why sweat it? And if we’re not sweating next week, let us definitely not begin to contemplate whatever the fuck is about to happen this winter.

Instead, let’s fucking hang out this weekend! Balls out in the air. Toes in the existential pool. Let’s fucking hang out, here at the Open Bar!

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I have just enough to do during this summer quasi-break to be stoked for the weekends. Ya know? Just enough stress to compel me to look forward to Friday evening. Plus, you know. It’s an opportunity to hang with my wife, and my husband, and eat a truckload of preposterously unhealthy food. As well, I get to spend some time with you motherfuckers. Here, at the Weekend Open Bar! The one-stop shop for buffoonery and camaraderie every weekend.

It’s shaping up to be a good weekend for me. Weather setting the tone. The heat wave’s finally breaking here, and good god, I can open my windows. Get some of that late-summer air wafting in. Reminding me that the descent into Autumn has thankfully begun, while being warm enough to not nip out. I must confess, it’s one of my favorite times of the year. I hope you’re appreciating it as much as me! If not, well, I hope you’re at least tolerating it.

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Marvel is bringing back what can be quantifiably considered a “fucking shitload” of legacy characters, and will be pairing them with contemporary counterparts. Folks like Wolverine, Bruce Banner, Jean Grey, and more are returning. In what is just another confusing development in the Marvel comic book world for this old man.

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Warren Ellis is helping DC revive the Wildstorm imprint, which they never should have fucking canned. IMO, IMO. I’m stoked! Goddamn stoked. Yeah, this is weak copy. I’m tired. But excited. Excitired.

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I’m not an economist, I’m too lazy to really dig in-depth into what this news means, so I’m just going to make like a good Millennial. Read the headline, browse the content, and fit the story to my own agenda. Comic books are doing well, fuck yeah!

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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.

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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)?

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Monday Morning Commute! On a Monday Evening! Better than a Tuesday Afternoon, not as good as a legitimate Monday Morning! Feelin’ pretty good, man. Classes are finally over, man. Doing a bit of tutoring, but hey. Can’t complain about that. Making money. Still having to drive into Boston during quasi-rush hour, but hey. Can’t complain about that. I’m getting to sleep until 9:00, which is a fucking blessing from the Elder Ones.

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Frakin’ terrible, man. I don’t know Cooke’s work as well as I would like, but even still, I’ve enjoyed what I’ve consumed, and regret that which I haven’t.

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Oh come all ye degenerates, the Bar is Open. It’s the Weekend. Let us gather around the slime-soaked tavern fire, spitting whimsy and regret. Spitting about what we’re doing this weekend. Be it a movie we’re going to see, a meal we’re going to eat, a transdimensional omnisexual Manta-Beast we’re going to bang.

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