Jesus fucking Christ, we made it to the end of this year. Congratulations if you’re reading this. The thresher may have ripped and torn at your nipples. Grinded and pulverized your soul. But you fucking made it, my dude! There’s a goddamn victory in that, even if your psyche is in tatters. May the next year give way to actual social events (albeit still mutated, sure), and a warm balm that may not heal the scar tissue, but soothe the soul.

We made it! Oh fucking thank the disaffected Eldritch Ones, we made it. So let’s celebrate that shit with one last Monday Morning Commute in this accursed year, no?

Tell me, what are you up to this holiday week! Are you cracking open a new video game? A new IPA? A new batch of wet wipes and grinding out one last batch of proto-children? Let’s celebrate the arts & farts one last time together, then help launch the engine that’ll shoot this year into the fucking sun.

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Oh holy fucking moly, it’s the end of a deeply exhausting week! Glad that Sam’s surgery is behind us, compelled to pray that her results back clean, and refreshed from my first decent night’s sleep last night. So man, I’m fucking stoked. To being able to relax for the next couple of days, prior to tackling the last week of the semester.

But, enough about my stinking, rotting ass!

How the fuck are you all dong, my friends? This is Weekend Open Bar, and I implore you to hang out with me! Keep me company during this first weekend of December, an odd December no doubt.

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