#April2015
Kodi Smit-McPhee cast as Nightcrawler in ‘X-Men: Apocalypse’
Kodi Smit-McPhee is the X-Universe‘s new cinematic Nightcrawler. Apparently he was in Dawn of the Rise of the Beginning of the Ape Planet, but I don’t remember him.
Tuesday Afternoon Commute: That Rotten Tooth
It’s Monday Morning Commute! Er. It’s Tuesday Afternoon Commute! How you folks doing? Me? I’m on my first day of break. And honestly I feel like I should be enjoying it more than I am. As a man of routine, the obliteration of my Daily Planner leaves me confused. Lost. Should I be productive and write? Or consume 3,000 calories? Go to the gym? Or play nine hours of Grand Theft Auto 5? My penchant is a predilection for self-destruction. So here are the various things I’m relying on to keep me (somewhat) functioning this week.
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.
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: Jump. Might as well Jump. Jump!
It’s Monday! But fuck, who cares. You could grouse about that shit, or you can do what I did. Yeah, I did that. You know. Unleashed the soft-serve ice cream machine into the depths of my pants. Ran up to the first Authority Figure I could find on campus. Hugged him with a ferocity, velocity, and eagerness seldom seen. Embraced the cold, yet welcoming, explosion of soft serve ice cream that rocketed up out of my unbuttoned jean shorts. Hitting us both in the neck, face, tits, soul. Screamed “We just ice CREAMED all over each other. #YOLO #YOLO #BADPUNS”, not forgetting to say HASHTAG before all three.
You could do that.
Or. Or you could just come hang out in Monday Morning Commute. The collection of arts, farts, social engineering projects, cataclysmic poor decisions, and other things you’re looking forward to this week.
Weekend Open Bar: liminalstates & permanent fixtures
The motherfuckin’ weekend! Raid the open bar! Stab a loved one and scream, “It’s just molecules! The Universe is pouring out of you, and it is lovely!” Or hug your Mom while cranking out a desperate, bowels-emptying fart. Murmuring into her ears, “You created this. Your egg is now this bowels-emptying pants-filling nightmare.” Or do something much more mundane!
Monday Morning Commute: I Eat Teeth
I Eat Teeth.
You could say it’s an idiosyncrasy. Some people need to pull their socks up after they sit down. Some folks need to turn the faucet three times to the right before they can leave the bathroom. Others shine their shoes so they can look up them skirts on the subway train.
I Eat Teeth.
Big whup. Mom didn’t like it when she was around. But now she ain’t around. She’s behind the shed. And yet. Still.
I Eat Teeth.
Dad didn’t let me visit the nursing home no more after that one time. Didn’t think I should eat teeth. But now he ain’t around no more neither.
I Eat Teeth.
Mom, Dad, the Neighbors, the Teachers. I’m sure they had their own thing. Dad’s tissues next to the nightstand told me was up to somethin’. Mom’s perpetual change of clothes in her car. The Neighbors’ pool parties with their friends, the teacher’s eyes and the cheerleaders’ skirts. Don’t matter. We all got our thing.
I Eat Teeth.
Mom’s teeth, Dad’s teeth, Ted’s teeth, your teeth. But no worry. You live in me and I live in the Center and together we live forever.
I Eat Teeth.
‘Nightcrawler’ Red Band Trailer: Gyllenhaal’s American Psychotics
Coming up on Friday is the release of Nightcrawler, another fucking tour de force for Jake Gyllenhaal. If you’ve been sleeping on him, Jakey has been fucking crushing it lately. And this latest release is Gyllenhaal channelling a gloriously unhinged enterprising would-be journalist in the world of LA crime reporting. A dark comedy arriving on The Demon’s Night.
Sounds good.
