Holy smokes — it’s the final day of 2013.

Reflectin’ on the last twelve months, I have to say that it was a pretty solid year. Am I without financial concerns? Do I wield enough agency to do whatever I please? Have I achieved all my goals? No. No. And no.

But as far as relative simple lives go, mine is a goddamn blessing. I’m surrounded by righteous friends. My zany family has my back. I live with the absolutely babe-tacular Bride of Frankenstein. I’ve got a job I believe in. And I don’t have to travel to a rival village, murder an elder with a rock, and steal the water supply.

Also, they still let me navigate Spaceship OL!

So with my love of life intact, let’s meander through some of my personal favorites from the year TWO-ZERO-ONE-THREE!

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Holy smokes.

It’s been a long goddamn while, but I’ve finally managed to find my way back to Spaceship OL. What’s been keepin’ me? Why’s Caff-Pow been forced to man the wheel without my navigational assistance? Well, we were pushing the `ole Nerd-Bird through some specially turbulent space-waters and I went to check on the chimp cages. In the process, I fell overboard.

Yes, I’d been drinkin’.

Anyways, I ended up getting sucked into an Ennui Vortex and was propelled beyond my control through some of the vilest scenarios of my entire existence. There were Responsibility Phantoms and Work Monsters and Accountability Ghouls. Hell, at one point I floated through a strait that saw the Stress-Scylla on one side and the Overtime-Charybdis on the other.

It was terrible!

But lo! and behold! I survived! Here I am! The one and only Rendar Frankenstein, hack-writer extraordinaire, in the digital-flesh! And you’d better believe I’m here for some haphazard word-slingin’! So let’s shuffle off the stains of yesterday and strap on our immortal foils! After all, this is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, the spot for sharing ideas about actualizing spiritual potential! How do we survive the onslaught of everyday malaise?

First, I’m goin’ to run you through some of the keys I’m using to unlock my mind. Then, you hit up the comments section and share the strategies you’ll be using to break open your idea-doors!

C’mon!

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Gerard the Robot was in the midst of a mid-life crisis.

His wife was bangin’ the milkman. She hadn’t admitted to it, but she didn’t have to. Every time that Gerard came home from a double-shift or an overnight — he was a nurse at the most prestigious hospital in Town — the fridge’d be full of dairy. And while Gerard knew that Georgiette and L’il Henry enjoyed their morning bowls of cereal, there was no reasonable explanation for why the fridge was teeming with bovine.

A half gallon of skim. Three glass bottles of 2%. A carafe of heavy cream.

But most unsettling of all was the glow on his wife’s face. There was a rosy-hue, a vivacious scarlet dancing upon her cheeks that he’d only seen after they’d made love. She’d claim she’d spent the day in the sun or was just feeling under the weather, but he knew why there was blood in her cheeks. It was because she was satisfied.

And it wasn’t Gerard that was satisfying her.

See, Gerard’s pneumatic organ had broken down nearly half a year ago. If he was a human, he’d have gone to the doctor for an embarrassing appointment and walked out with a prescription for Triumph Pills. But as a robot, Gerard had to order a new part. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. However, Gerard was an import, and with the all the trade sanctions being tossed around, he was having a real hard time.

Which is ironic, given that all Gerard wanted was a real hard time.

This is tomorrow’s mid-life crisis. A fridge full of milk. A wife full of the milkman. And a robot-eunuch weeping at the kitchen table.

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Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! This is OL’s weekly venue for celebrating the entertainment that helps us survive the workweek! First, I’m going to show you the various ways I’ll be staving off bad-vibes and responsibilities! Then, y’all hit up the comments section and offer your own suggestions. This is Internet-based show-and-tell for the nerds and geeks and dweebs who aren’t afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves!

Okay, let’s dance!

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