If I’m being honest, I’ve been staring at this fucking blank text box for about a half-an-hour. Intermittently, I’ll hop on tumblr, stare at some asses, and pop back. Waiting, you see, for something to say. But, I don’t have anything! Not today. No friends, no way. I suppose I could prattle on about how I’m happy it’s the Weekend. So fucking happy, too.

So fucking happy, too, despite the fact that it was a short workweek. However, I think this happiness stems from the fact that I genuinely despise my job these days. Not the teaching part. That’s fucking fantastic. Rather, the other miscellany I must put myself through to pay the bills, because the life of an adjunct is tenuous at best. I don’t know! I don’t, seriously. I exist in a weird liminal state these days. I’m between teaching in the Spring, and teaching my summer class. As well, I’m between the Spring semester I just taught, and figuring out what I’m going to do next Spring.

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If pain is part of the path, I’m fucking crushin’ it, my dudes! I’m a real fucking pathfinder! Just dinging into things, physically, emotionally, and existentially! Bumping my shins, cursing loudly! But, I’m also doing deec as the kids say. Said! Probably said a long time ago. And, I’m here with you, my VirtuaFriends.

Spending some time in Monday Morning Commute! Showing you what I’m looking forward to this week! What I’m interested in. What I’m enjoying.

I hope you’ll share your own happenings and hype-beasts in the comments!

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I’m like, really bad at relaxing. Really, really bad. So bad that despite the fact that I’m supposed to have this week off from work, I still went in yesterday. Better yet, I ended up tutoring, too! It’s just, just difficult for me to wind down from teaching a class (or four) and tutoring thirty hours a week, and segue into not burning out glorious upon the Fury Road. I mean, today, my wife had to talk me out of going to the gym before I go to spin class tonight. I’m trying! I’m trying my goddamn best. I mean, I gave up on two trips to the gym today! That’s gotta…that’s gotta be progress, I think?

But, I’m here now! Connecting with you, my fellow trash-blesssed folk aboard the Space-Ship Omega! Inviting you to join me here in Monday Morning Commute! I got, I got a serious fucking caffeine buzz going, and I’m about to enumerate the various bullshit I’m excited about this week. The happenings that are happening that will happen to help me to enjoy this week off from work.

Then! If the Eldritch Ones hear my prayer, you’ll share your own weekly musings in the comments section.

Shazam!

Excelsior!

Et cetera!

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Hello, friends! It’s The Weekend Open Bar! Come hang out!

I’m feeling good over here. The weather has finally turned here on the Eastern seaboard of the Empire. My semester has finally ended. And, I’ve gotten consecutive nights of good sleep. All of this is to say is that I’m actually sticking my head out of the Depressive Cocoon I build around myself ever so often, and smiling!

By god, smiling.

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Hell yes, it’s Weekend Open Bar.

What’s up, fellow denizens of the Space-Ship Omega? Me? This guy? I’m celebrating the cessation of the semester! Or, at least, the last full week. Not only that, but it’s the motherfucking weekend! With that in mind, I must cop to you that I’m about to eat too much, sleep too much, play too much, smoke too much, and smile too much.

And, I implore you fellow degenerates to join me in my revelry here in the Open Bar!

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Welcome, to another installment in Monday Morning Commute. It’s a barely-fair-to-even-call-it-regular-let-alone-weekly column here on the Space-Ship Omega. Within it I, a purveyor of poor taste and poorer morals, share what I’m up to during a given week. You know, what I’m enjoying. What I’m looking forward to at the end of the week, utilizing said anticipation as a rip-cord to pull me through the doldrums of the M-F Grind.

I’m sorry I’ve been in absentia. I’ve just been fucking busy, man. However I’m here now! And this is what I’m fucking digging this week! And this is what I expect from you: to join me in the comments section.

Let’s go!

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Fargo, season 3. Fargo, season 3! Fargo, season 3, wee! There is no season of no show I’m excited for, more than Fargo‘s third. And that’s saying something, since I’m literally rubbing my testicles thinking of Mr. Robot season 2, and calling them Elliot and Tyrell.

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Justin Theroux is going to be the star of the next show by Damon Lindelof, and it’s going to be on HBO. Oh goody me, Damon Lindelof is working on another television show. In case you didn’t know: Lindelof “works on television shows” by standing in front of a mirror, quietly saying “you’re so clever.” He slowly builds up to a tribal chant, at which he eventually orgasms. Hands free. It’s almost impressive.

(So much vitriol, I know.)

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