(Note: I started writing this Friday. It is now Saturday. I apologize. Life, man.)

I’m very excited for this weekend. It’s totally not because I popped a Sudafed for my allergies and it has slicked the synapses of reality, allowing me to glide across Existence with nary a care! I mean, how can you not be excited when it’s the weekend! And the stimulants in your blood tell you Everything Is Okay and Things Will Be Fun This Weekend!? Fuck, Sudafed! Mi amor! Mi amor!

This is Weekend Open Bar! Pop whatever sort of chemical into your bloodstream you want, and come hang out! Pop whatever sort of food into your stomach you want, and come hang out! Pop pop pop! Whatever you want! Everything is allowed, save for snark and bite. We keep it positive here, folks.

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Monday Morning Commute! Another seven days or so have past since we last met. How is your existence? Persistent? Intermittent? Fleeting, flitting, between this Universe and the next? Sliding up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right through linear time-space?  Another seven days or so have past since we last met. It’s weird, not really having anything to report.

My class and I had a discussion (as we are wont to do, every semester) about comfort versus happiness. Most thought that comfort is preferred to genuine happiness. Those who stay in relationships despite them being “eh”, those who stay at jobs despite them being “eh”, you know.

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Man, we got Presidential candidates debating dusty tomes from days of yore and their dick sizes. Man, they’re doing that while we got the entire universe to explore. Man, we got people vigorously arguing over the quality of men in tights and their moving picture shows. Man, they’re doing that while the Cosmos offers us escape. While the Cosmos offers us resources. While the Cosmos offers us Hope.

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Welcome to Monday Morning Commute! On time, half-assed, and here for your whole-hearted dismissal. I am currently supine. Clad in sweatpants and malaise. Trying to see Monday Night RAW over my laptop. This is my worldview. This is my worldview: we live short lives in absurd conditions, and goddamn if I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Welcome to Monday Morning Commute! The column where I share the various things I’m looking forward to during a given week. This is a neat little week, filled with a substantial amount of anticipated-things and enjoyed-objects. I hope you’ll share your own MindMusings after reading through my little lame assed list.

Let’s do this!

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I should really write these things on Thursday. In that case the column wouldn’t really be written during The Weekend when I composed it, but you would be none the wiser! Temporality is a lie! We sit upon the string, God and Her Ones looking down upon us, just a swift step to the left of linear-time-space. And we are all none the wiser! What would we do if we could perceive the non-linear linearity of our own linear-time-space! Me? I’d probably just smoke more weed and play more video games. Same as usual, just twisting the knob a bit more to the left.

Swift steps to the left, twist knobs to the right! What the fuck am I even doing here?

Oh yeah! Weekend Open Bar! The weekly one-stop outpost where all the Empresses and Emperors of their own Existential Ship can dock for a bit. Share what they’re up to during the weekend. Be it the food they’re eating, the turds they’re taking, the lovers they’re taking, the souls they’re eating. Whatever the case. The movies, books, gifs, and games!

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m late. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it is Tuesday. Afternoon. Commute. I don’t really have a good excuse, outside of the general fatigue-ennui-desire for distraction that follows a workday. Get home. Fill face. Watch episode of TV show. Play Video Game for three hours. It’s not a hell of a life, but it’s a life. It’s not a hell of a life, but it’s a common one. So here I am. Somewhere. Just a pea in a pod of communal existential drift, wasting away towards The End and not really being That Upset About It.

I got a wife and a dog and soon a kid and soon old age and soon a funeral. Hey, what can you do? Revolutions are for white girls in Movies. Revolutions are for olden times and future times, neither of which I will see. I got a wife and a dog and soon a kid and soon old age and soon a funeral.

But for this week, this pesky week? I got a collection of Entertainments and Arts and Distractions to ease the slow sloughing of the mortal coil .

This is my list of them. I hope you’ll join me in the comments section. Sharing what you’re digging this week.

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I fucking love The Division. The spawn of Watch Dogs and Destiny, its got its tendrils up in me, down through me, and wrapped around my brain. So I tip my cap to the director of the game, and I imagine him joining Hitman‘s developer is only good things for them.

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It is a melancholic Weekend Open Bar, friends. For while I open the doors to the Tavern with arms-spread welcomingly, the very cracking of the doorframe signals doom. Or namely, it signals the dusk of my Spring Break. A sad time. A bad time. Every moment a march towards the return to hour-and-a-half commute and pants. And pants! Oh, I haven’t worn a pair of real pants since last Saturday. My ever burgeoning waistline not tortured by restriction, nay, but instead comforted by the glory of an elastic waist.

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Whatever the consternation regarding the quality of The Division, it didn’t stop the title from becoming Ubisoft’s highest selling launch day game. Ever. This is particularly impressive, given that Ubisoft has crushed it with their Watch Dogs, and Assassin’s Creed launch days.

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Yeah! It’s Saturday. And I’m just opening up this weekend’s Open Bar. Which means, since OL is already pretty quiet these days, that it’s just going to be me rambling to myself about what I’m doing this weekend. That’s fine! I’ve brought this upon myself. I’ve brought this upon myself! But this is Weekend Open Bar, and name is Ian Omega-Caffeine Powered-Xavier Thunderkick.

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