Guilty of nostalgia, motherfuckers! Of the honeying of childhood, the discarding of its various horrors, and the embracing of its warm glow. Listen, if you watch the stream you know that my childhood was wonderfully replete with woes. At the same time, it was also a time of magic. Nothing quite rocks one’s ass like a childhood discovery. Be it a horror film that sculpted your brain, a video game that changed your life, or a metal album that had you throwing up the metal horns. Fucking A, bro! Sure, you grow, and continue to find things you love. Hopefully! Hopefully.

I suppose I should acknowledge that many people find themselves despondent in their aging corpus, and retreat into the bosom of nostalgia. They suckle upon the curdling milk of Mother Wayback’s teats. That ain’t healthy, and I do pride myself on continuing to find joy and wonder in new experiences, even as I approach Middle Age. That said, there’s a joy to rekindling old memories with friends, such as you fucks, here at the Weekend Open Bar and on the streams.

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The Cold War is heating up again, motherfuckers! Meanwhile the heat is colding up again, motherfuckers! Man, that was awkward-as-fuck. What I’m trying to say, and failing mind you, is that it’s getting a bit frigid here on the Northeastern Arm of the Empire. But, that ain’t all bad news! With the temperature dropping, and the sun setting, it’s the perfect excuse to stay inside this weekend. Boot-up the PlayStation 5, load-up the new Call of Duty (and Miles Morales) and just be a sack of comfy, cozy shit!

In-between gluttonous play sessions, I hope to spend some time with you fucks here at the Open Bar! I got the hearth going, the suds on tap, and the high-fives primed to be dispensed! Let’s hang the fuck out! Tell me, what are you dudes up to this weekend?

Watching The Mandalorian? Rocking some pre-expansion World of Warcraft? Eating an exorbitant amount of food, happily ensconced in sweatpants and a blanket?

Let’s hang the fuck out.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute on Election Tuesday! I’ll tell you something, my friends. I had begun writing this column yesterday, and it was full of piss, vinegar, and a real fucking white-knuckled fist at the world. And, you know what? It was just exhausting, my dudes. I petered out after the first paragraph and called it quits. I just don’t have it in me to rage, rage, against the Dying Democracy. Instead, fuck it. I offer you this boon, this refuge from the insanity of the Outside Digiverse.

Now listen, I’m not saying to not care. Now listen, I’m not saying to not vote like your future queer daughter’s life depends on it. However, lost in 2020 is the need for self-care. For sure, i’s a privileged practiced. Everyone needs it, not everyone can attain it, and I care and have empathy for those less fortunate.

But, if you can spare a few minutes, hang out here at MMC with me. I can’t promise you anything other than my kindness, but I’m genuinely curious what you’re looking forward to in this Hellscape of a week. Okay, fuck, that was dark. Listen, I’m trying, but reality does penetrate me straight through the ass every once in a while.

I got my own collections of diversion, distractions, and diluting potions I’m imbibing this week. In fact, I’ll fucking tell you! Then follow-up in the comments with your own laundry list of pleasantries.

I love you all, this is Monday Morning Commute!

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What’s up, slugs? Are you existing in a marmalade of twinkling optimism and oppressive anxiety? Or, is that just my bipolar ass? Either way, welcome! For me, it’s a gloomy-as-fuck Tuesday, following a long weekend. Which means that everything requires just a smidge more emotional energy than usual, and if I’m being honest, I feel as though everything costs more emotional energy for me than most.

That’s neither here nor there, though. I mean, right? That ain’t the point of this shit, Monday Morning Commute (on a Tuesday). No, no! Indeed, the point is to share what I’m anticipating and enjoying this specific week. Then, I hope you’ll join my ass in the comments.

Regal me, motherfuckers! Regal me with your own happenings! I beg. I plead. I demand.

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It’s a Stephen King quote, friends! But it’s applicable both existentially, and to OL proper! Ya’ll are old friends that I have missed as of late. Lately, I’ve been eating an absolute speed bagging to my proverbial balls. Not even in a bad way, if you can believe it. Rather, just extremely long days sitting in a chair and staring into the void of a webcam while teaching. Immediately followed by a hollowed-out feeling of exhaustion when the daily gauntlet is completed.

Fall semesters are always draining, but they’re doubly draining in this new (and perhaps temporary?) digital world. Everything just flat-out takes more fucking time than it used to. Want to do group work? You can’t just print shit! Gotta assemble individual files for each group’s section, upload said files to Google Drive, check that they’re in the right folder, confirm that they’re shareable. Blah, blah, blah.

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Salve, bitches! That’s Latin for “hello” and pretty much all I remember from four-years of taking that language. How is everyone these days? I hope you’re hanging in there, given, you know the circumstances. What circumstances? Throw a dart at a board of world topics. Whatever it lands on? That circumstance, among the others.

That said, ain’t doing too badly over here. Surfing these waning stages of summer both in terms of the weather, lifestyle, and vacation. As I’ve oft indicated, this is one of my favorite times of the year. However in many ways, it feels like a sort of holding pattern. I can sense that Fall and the semester are looming, which leads to a bit of anxiety. At the same time though, I got myself open evenings and late rises. It’s a liminal space, and it ain’t the worst place.

I know! Oh, god, do I know. Know what? That in about seven weeks I’m going to be looking back longingly on this specific moment in space-time. You know, as I’m buried under my first or second wave of papers to grade, with seasonal depression tag-teaming with my usual state of mental illness. Really just blasting my balls, the two of them taking turns. Occasionally teaming-up for an impressive tandem move.

Anyways, you all know the fucking rigmarole here. It’s Monday Morning Commute! What are you fuckers up to this week? What are you basking in, as the days grow shorter, the air grows colder, and Autumn begins to walk into the room?

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Summer breeze, makes me feel fine! A little Type O Negative across your tits to get this column started! Seriously though, we’re in the glorious days of the summer. The faint hint of upcoming death in the air. Deeper dusks. A cool summer breeze wafting in through the windows at night. Windows which we can finally open up, at least around here. It’s pleasant, pleasant as fuck. In fact, mid-August kicks off my favorite time of the year here in the Northeast portion of the Empire.

How are you folks doing, this August 18th? I hope you’re hanging in there. ‘Cause it ain’t easy right now, I imagine for any of us.

So, let’s huddle together, motherfuckers! Let’s share what indulgences we’re indulging in across this indolent portion of the year! What the fuck you reading? What the fuck you listening to? Playing anything dope? Watching anything excellent? Hit my ass up in the comments!

That is, after I first bombard your butt holes with my own bombastic choices!

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I remember liking The Boys back when I was eighteen. But, I think if I read it now, I’d find it fucking intentionally edgy, and sort of cringe. That said, will I give the adaptation a shot? Sure.

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