Eternal thanks to JCVD, I’ve fucking made it to this mini vacation. Thanksgiving to the Man Himself, you know? I woke up this morning on the start of my Long Weekend, and, fuck. I actually slept well. It’s amazing how glorious emerging from a deep slumber is, especially when there’s no alarm clock awakening you. I hope you’re as fortunate enough as me to be embarking on your own mini-vacation.

And if so, I hope you’ll spend some time during it here at the Open Bar.

Sharing what you’re going to be doing amid this temporary Oasis. Eating so much you gotta pop your top button? Catching-up on Watchmen, or sweating The Mandalorian? Rock fighting the elderly for a PS4 Pro bundle on Black Friday? I want to know!

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Welcome to the Open Bar, you fucks. The wank-off where we, the gilded turds of the Space-Ship Omega, share what we’re up to during the weekend. I must level with you, seeing Black Panther is at the core of my entire existence the next couple of days. Seeing it tonight, Friday, with comrades. Seeing it Sunday night with my male progenitor. And in the middle? I imagine gushing and flushing all my savory glands discussing it. Here, on OL. Saturday night, on Twitch.

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It’s another belated installment of Desktop Thursdays! Oh, you know the one! The one where I share glimpses into my life! Well, not all of it. Not the crusty underwear (usually), the callouses on my ass-rim (usually), or my destroyed toilet bowl rim (usually). Instead, looks at the family, the literal desktop, the figurative desktop, my animals, et cetera.

Then! As per usual, I ask you to share your own world in the comments section!

Without!

Fucking!

Further!

Ado!

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Hello, friends! It’s Weekend Open Bar! Pull a chair up to the hearth. Summon your favorite chemicals from the servo-droid behind the counter. Pop off your pants, oh, I know, they’re a bit tight from this week’s corpulence. And relax! Just straight-up fucking relax with me. Your co-host, your champion, your spirit-guide. Let us move together through a miasma of revelry, consumption, contemplation, and companionship.

What are you up to this weekend, comrades? Shoving any old ladies out of the way for a discounted blender at TarMart? Catching up on any stories on the TeleVisor? Trying to rationalize the utter depravity that is your diet these past few days?

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How’s it going, folks? Are you segueing into Corpulence Season well? You must prepare to fulfill your duty as a member of the Empire!

Consumption! Things! Stuff! Food! Consumption! Consumption! Consumption!

Hail, Hail, Hail!

Toe the line! Nay, stand in line! You must be checking out mentally while checking out virtually, physically! The form doesn’t matter, only the consumption! The filling and emptying of stomachs, shopping carts, bank accounts, guts, shelves, savings.

Consumption! Things! Stuff! Food! Consumption! Consumption! Consumption!

That’s a negative spin on the whole ordeal, isn’t it?

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I am of the opinion that posting a Weekend Open Bar belatedly is a losing gesture, if a gesture at all. If it don’t hit Friday evening, it might as well not hit. But hey, what can you do. Last night I was besieged by PLAYAWF HAWKEY, and blessed with the opportunity to spend time with Rendar and Bateman.

So like, you know.

When the stars align and the three founders of OL hangout all at the same time (an occurrence one can hope happens more often, but an occurrence complicated by busy lives and us upon our own journeys in the omni-multi-verses), you better take goddamn advantage of it.

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Oh, fuck! It’s the Weekend. Oh, fuck! It’s the Weekend Open Bar! Oh, fuck! My wife told me I only have ten minutes to Open the Bar. And, and, and, you know. Between fiddling with the volume control on my speakers, messaging a couple of friends, and, you know. Do you know? ‘Cause I don’t. Where the fuck is the time going? Oh, fuck! Time, it bleeds, life it bleeds, the universe it slowly, slowly bleeds out. Us, it, none of us truly conscious of it! Stay focused though, man! There ain’t time for your usual existential blatherings.

This is Weekend Open Bar!

The cure-all, catch-all weekly column at the end of the work week! Where I, your Captain and Local Garbage Lord, implore you to come and hang out! Share what you’re eating, watching, watching while eating, playing, et cetera. So on. So forth.

Get high, get drunk, get hard, get soft, whatever, whatever, whatever! It’s all good here.  So long as you don your most welcoming and affable of affectations and share what you’re up to this weekend. Shoot the shit, if you will.

This is Weekend Open Bar!

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Hello, friends. Come in, come in. Grab your voucher for a free download of RelaxYourFatCorpus.exe and let the soothing algorithms greetyour meat-processor. It’s the weekend. This is the OpenBar. The weekly one-stop for the populace of Space-Ship OMEGA to gather. Take off our shoes. Take off our pants. Shake one another’s hands (?). Then straight DigiChill.

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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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We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be, friends. But let me tell you, I’m not futzing pretending to be excited for this Weekend. I am bonafide stoked it’s Friday. What a goddamn week. Coming back to campus and attempting to teach classes after Thanksgiving Break is like attempting to stand in the fifth round of a fight against in-his-prime Anderson Silva.

For the students, and myself.

Eyes glazed. Lethargic. The world spinning. Not really sure how we’ve gotten this far and not sure how we’re going to make it to the final bell.

After today, I got one more week of classes to go. However, the idea of that one last week stresses me the futz out. But I’ve got the weekend. And so we have the Weekend Open Bar. Pull up a stool, friends. Let us hang out for the next two days. Share what we’re going to do be doing during this liminal state – both after and before grinding away our existence.

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