Hello, friends! It’s Weekend Open Bar! Pull a chair up to the hearth. Summon your favorite chemicals from the servo-droid behind the counter. Pop off your pants, oh, I know, they’re a bit tight from this week’s corpulence. And relax! Just straight-up fucking relax with me. Your co-host, your champion, your spirit-guide. Let us move together through a miasma of revelry, consumption, contemplation, and companionship.

What are you up to this weekend, comrades? Shoving any old ladies out of the way for a discounted blender at TarMart? Catching up on any stories on the TeleVisor? Trying to rationalize the utter depravity that is your diet these past few days?

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I’m just tired today, man. I don’t know what is is, perhaps just a case of the Mondays? Or maybe I’m just feeling a bit of the ennui because there’s nothing I’m really looking forward to this week? Usually I have something to hang my hat on – a new episode of a fave show, a new comic book dropping, or at the very least, a movie to entertain my brain-box. This week, though? Nothing, man. Nothing new at least. Just the usual week. Sam’s going away Saturday for business, I’m still overeating, America’s Favorite Fascist keeps running primaries. It’s pretty much stasis for this guy.

But uh, I suppose I am digging some stuff? Maybe?

I’ll share my sweatings for the seven days coming. Then hopefully you inspire me.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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How are you folks doing? Man — it’s been a minute since I sat down at my computer. Or, I suppose, sat my laptop down upon me. Spent the weekend hanging out with friends, slinging insane amounts of caffeine into my veins. Watching grown men throw balls into the air while I bark at them nonsensically. Imbuing the frivolities with so much importance, way too much importance, playing right into the distractionary hands of The Powers That Be.

But hey. It’s with friends. There are probably worse ways to spend the weekend than eating too much, farting too much, laughing too much, and the such, right? Even if the macguffin is SportEvent.

Anyways — now that I am at my computer, I shall compose this. Monday Morning Commute!

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How is it that I only had three days of work this week, and I’m fucking staggered? Could it be the Omni-Pall that has encapsulated Massachusetts? Perhaps, perchance, probably. All I know is that it’s Friday and I’m ready to hit the Open Bar. Shove aside Rendar who is bartending, reach behind the counter, find the biggest, filthiest bottle of Mind Alteration, and take a rip.

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