It’s Tuesday, Tuesday Evening. I’m writing what was supposed to be Monday, Monday Morning Commute. The clock ticks towards quarter of 6pm, Eastern Seaboard of the Empire Standard. I have approximately 23 minutes to file this, to fart it, to fecal-blast this shinformation onto your digital face. Before! Before my next obligation. I’ve been wearing the same dress pants for ten hours, I’m tired, my caffeine levels are precariously low, and I have so much goddamn wood to chop before I sleep.

But I’m happy, happy to generate this minuscule bubble of textual diarrhea. This minuscule raft in the shitty seas of oblivion that seem to constitute this year, this 2016 A.D. Come friends, come quickly. Ignore my purple-headed boner, I merely have to pee. Come friends, come quickly. Ignore the wild look in eyes, I’m merely between my past caffeine fix and my next.

Come friends, come quickly. Join me on this raft, cling to it with me. Nay, cling to it for me.

This is Tuesday Evening Commute. This is what I’m looking forward to this week. Please, I implore, I beseech, I cajole. Please, join me in the comments section. Let me know what you’re indulging in this week.

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Stand by, your consciousness is ready for upload. Say goodbye to the rot-filth of tangibility, and embrace the ephemeral. You cannot escape Entropy, cause brother the Universe is still dying on you. But hey, no more meat-case. You cannot escape Entropy, cause brother every time we re-upload you to split processing load, you lose a few bits and bytes of yourself. But hey, no more meat-case. So what to do, what to do in the Digital-Oblivion? Why, why not hang out at Weekend Open Bar? The weekly wank-off session at the Space-Ship OMEGA. Tunnel in to one of our android-bodies. Submit your credit codes, cause capitalism don’t need physical space. Drive that android-body up to the bar, and kick the time with us flesh-rats in the Tavern.

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