#March2015
Monday Morning Commute: A Sense of Overriding Futility
It is officially the fucking doldrums, yo. The Prole Bowl has come and gone (The Lords of Kobol are kind to me), and now darkness descends upon my sad, empty life. Oh sure I could stare even further into the Abyss what, with the White Noise of sports-based distraction shuffling back into the Miasma. But who wants that? Not this bro.
Weekend Open Bar: Fly As A Pegasus!
It’s time, friends. Hit the bar. Grab your chemical alteration of choice. Be it Cosmic Dust. Be it Titan Hops. Be it Europa Greenery, grown on our latest terraformed installment of the Empire. And then saunter up to the roundtable at intersection of The End of Good Taste and Unbridled Geek Revelry. This is the Open Bar.
Monday Morning Commute: That Noveria Life
As you may or may not know, it’s the fucking Snowpocalypse here on the Northeastern Seaboard of the Empire. We ain’t fucking Commuting Anywhere! It’s the End Times! That’s what the media says! No worries. No sweat. I have serious provisions: four twelve-packs of Diet Dews. Five pounds of Laffy Taffy. A family-sized box of Chez-Its. And I have serious amounts of time on my hands, too. Multiple feet of snow coming in. Multiple miles-per-hour of serious wind. Probably ain’t going to teach again until Friday. So this is what I’m filling my week with. Both during the Snowpocalypse and after we dig out.
Monday Morning Commute: A Nice Egg
Welcome to Tuesday Morning Commute! I’m busier than a mofuckah’ here the last week of the semester. Students coming out of the woodwork, not wanting to fail. Tutees wanting me to salvage papers last moment. And grading! Oh, the fucking grading. But I’m almost at the end. I can see six weeks of gluttony, literature, and gaming right around the corner. Here’s what I’m looking forward to this week though. The materials that are dragging me through this sad limp to the finish.
Monday Morning Commute: Bodyslam Ingratitude
It is Thanksgiving this week in the heart of the Empire. Say what you will about the manipulative mythos that has conjured such a holiday. Say it to the wind. Say it to people outside of the local Walmart. But know this. I think it is wonderful to celebrate a day where family, and gratitude are paramount, regardless of your ideological inclination. And so a wild anarchist like yours truly can still find himself sitting down this Thursday to cop to the warm, fuzzy embrace of familial gluttony and momentary harmony. I’m goddamn glad to be here. And for everything I have.
So while it isn’t a typical work cycle, still I offer up Monday Morning Commute. The column where we share what we’re looking forward to during a given week. This iteration filled with 100% more mashed potatoes than usual.
Weekend Open Bar: Intergalactic Planetary!!!
A wise man once said, “we all dead, fuck it.” This unwise man once heard those words and thought, “everything is pointless.” No no, I should not have taken it that way. And neither should you. Instead interpret its meaning thusly: time is limited, life is short at best, so spend it with loved ones, doing things you like. As much as possible. Given the grind, given the circumstance, given the chance, given the opportunity. And the Weekend for many is an opportunity to CARPE THIS AFOREMENTIONED DOPE SHIT.
I hope you’ll spend some of your weekend here. At the Open Bar. Communing with like-minded souls. Just trying to get by in this perpetually heating, perpetually diminishing, perpetually beautiful little Blue Orb in Space.
Monday Morning Commute: ilovemyself
Fuck, man. Don’t listen to the media. Don’t heed the Illumnati. Don’t accept the notion that you ain’t worth something. You’re wonderful. A delectable collection of atoms. Squeezed into new form by your equally wonderful mother and father’s Copulation Boom Boom. And while you’re here, and while you’re loving yourself, why not share what else you’re loving this week? That’s the point of Monday Morning Commute. New books, new movies, new favorite things to do with your boogers. Whatever got you smiling.
‘Far Cry 4’ Story Trailer: RIDE ELEPHANTS / RAIN F**KING HELL
OH YOU KNOW I’M GETTING JACKED + PUMPED FOR FAR CRY 4. FUCKING FUCK SHIT UP WHILE RIDING AN ELEPHANT. CRINGE AT EXOTICITZED DEPICTIONS OF OTHER CULTURES. FUCK MORE SHIT UP. STAB TIGERS. EAT THE DUNG OF YOUR FALLEN FOES. YEAHHH.
‘Far Cry 4’ Weapons Of Kyrat Trailer: Many methods of mayhem
You’re going to be doing some killing in Far Cry 4, believe it or not. Yep, that’s right. It’s not some bloodless, idyllic romp through gorgeous vista after vista of Mountain Plain. Fucking crazy, right? And if you’re so inclined to sample the sort of murdering-tools that will be present in the game, Ubisoft has provided a trailer that allows you to do just that.
