In short, because I’m fucking busy! This is Monday Morning Commute. The cavernous post at the end of the Internet where we all share what we’re up to during a given week. The arts and distractions that are helping us Mind The Grind. Spittin’ about our anxiety-laden lives because of Said Grind. Maybe a random anecdote about the time your donger got caught in that chalupa (is this a euphemism? I don’t know!) in the Taco Bell bathroom.

I’ll go first.

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More than a little Guardians of the Galaxy theme-ninjaing in this live-action trailer for Destiny. Intergalactic humor and action + Old School tunage? It’s certainly a formula that’s working. Particularly on me.

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This is all a rental.

From the computer you’re typing on to the meat-sack you’re inhabiting. All will be recycled, reused, converted into a variety of different forms. In my case, very much upcycled. Rejoice for as long as the collection of atoms, elements, and moments that is You can successfully stave off Entropy.

This is all a rental.

You’re slowing down. Dissolving. Inching closer to the Bin where your reconstitution shall take place.

But while we’re here, while This Matter still makes You, let’s have some fun. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where You share what you’re intending to do during the week. So long as your dissolving, perpetually-ending, decaying meat-sack allows you.

This is all a rental.

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It’s true. Nature doesn’t fucking care. About you. About me. About the flitting, infinitesimal blip on the Cosmic Radar that is Humanity. And man, that’s fine. That’s cool. We’re all going to be dead. Dead for a lot longer than we’re alive. Nature’s just going to carry on. We won’t register. It doesn’t matter. What to do in the face of such Truth? Keep rollin’ that rock. Have a wonderful time while you’re here. Make your own meaning.

Here’s a quiet Monday Morning Commute, as I’m surrounded by the Indifferent but Beautiful Nature here in Nova Scotia.

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This trailer gave me hard nipples. I’m not even kidding. Destiny. From object of my scorn, to object of my juicy-panties lust. Here’s the fucking launch trailer.

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Bungie! Just fucking stop. Stop dropping these teasers for Destiny. Less than a month away, but I don’t want to wait any longer. Take my fucking money, now. Or if you don’t want to, then please lord stop entering these trailers into my gooey guts. I can’t take it.

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Que pasa, friends. Caff-Pow here, still a bit ragged from a wonderful weekend at Boston Comic Con. But soldier on, I shall. Sally forth, I must. So into the ditches of minutiae, I plunge. This is Monday Morning Commute. A post dedicated to answering the simple (or maddeningly complex) question: what are you looking forward to this week? What are you up to? Excited about? Don’t be shy, I’ll go first.

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Hello, friends. Welcome to Monday Morning Commute. The column that serves as the Balm that soothes the Unrelenting Burn of It All. Within this post, the lot of us wearied travelers come together. We feed each other Chez-Its, and perhaps too lovingly brush the crumbs from one another’s lips. We rub each other’s backs, leaving the hand perhaps a moment too long on the small of one another’s back. And most importantly, we share the various Arts & Farts that we’re looking forward to on a given week. The sort of Necessary Distractions that illuminate our lives, titillate our brains, and distract our souls from the Maelstrom.

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Ahoy, denizens of the Space-Ship Omega. Whether you’re a regular spending time in your own cabin on the Ship, or merely a smuggler stopping by for a refueling and some cheap protoplasmic omnisexual alien butt-poon before leaving, you’re all wonderful in my book. This is Monday Morning Commute, the column where all of us wayward organic meat-sacks share the various things we’re looking forward to on a given week. Or thinking about. Or anticipating. Or dreading.

Slide on up to the shit-smeared cantina bar, and knock back some synthetic oat sodas. Imma be quick with my own list though. It’s the first day back at the Helium Mining Factory on Asteroid X  and all the fumes got me dizzy. Rest assured you’ll find me lurking in the comments section though, pants-down, smile-applied.

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Marty O’Donnell has cut himself a nook in the gaming psyche through his iconic Halo scores. However, that didn’t save his ass from getting fired by the Company That Master Chief built. Not only that, but if you believe his claims, the talented composer was also shed from the company’s corpus with a litany of unpaid benefits.

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