Do you understand the spatial confusion that comes with the Thaw? Here I am, freshly out of my Cryo-Pod and pressed into service. That’s right, those aghast. Rendar isn’t here this week. It’s your boy, Caff-Pow. I was orbiting a particularly interesting noodle along the orbit of Charlatan-IV where the distress beacon run. It spoke to me in words and phrases I couldn’t understand; I wasn’t familiar with.

Beep – too busy. real world responsibilities. grown-up stuff.

Beep – do you comply, brother?

Being a good space-bound brother, I obliged. I may not understand responsibilities or the real world, but I do understand the humble request from a man who descended out of the same Momma gut as me. Entering my finger-prints-semen-saliva-testicle-taint into the recognition software, I jettisoned my temporary virtuality. Good bye, Charlatan-IV. Hello MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE. The column where we share those distractions that keep us cutting while peering into the oblivion of the wash-work-wank-rinse cycle that will transport us from one edge of oblivion into the next.

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It’s approaching midnight and I sipping liberally from a recently-cracked open two-liter of Pepsi Max. This can only mean a few things. Diablo 3  has launched, my semester is over, and I may very well be dead by the time you read this. Slouched over all fucking South Korean internet cafe Starcraft  stylee. Should I continue sucking wind into the meatier part of this Wednesday, I shall be snagging some comic books. These are the ones I’m digging on. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to tolerate my stupidity and then augment my list with the titles you’re going to procure for an exorbitant sum. Especially if I don’t list your little binky title. I’m willing to riff on anything should you suggest it.

Don’t know what’s dropping? Hit up ComicList.

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