We’re getting deep into summer now, friends. With such a progression brings deeper, more rewarding dusk. However, it also brings with it shorter days, longer shadows, and hints at a Fall which promises to be seemingly chaotic at best. But as I said Monday, in the end we’re promised nothing. Nothing! Fucking nothing at all. Which means I might as well enjoy the beautiful dusks and the welcoming evenings while I can, no? Who knows what next week will bring for me. Really, for all of us. Why sweat it? And if we’re not sweating next week, let us definitely not begin to contemplate whatever the fuck is about to happen this winter.

Instead, let’s fucking hang out this weekend! Balls out in the air. Toes in the existential pool. Let’s fucking hang out, here at the Open Bar!

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Hey, friends! Apologies for the tardiness! Mea culpa, mea dumb ass. I think I butchered the Latin there, but who knows. It’s a fucking dead language. Who is going to stop me? Motherfuckers buried under the rubble of Mount Vesuvius? Some nerd Latin scholar at University? Step-up bitches, and face a Superkick Party. Anyways, I’m genuinely sorry I’m dropping this MMC on a Tuesday.

In case you’re wondering why? Man, I’m fucking fighting it this week! Fighting what? Just a general sense of existential malaise. A sexier way of describing my various chemical imbalances compounded by the flat-out Dumpster Fire that is life in the United States  Just the act of sitting down and compiling words in a WordPress document seems pretty overwhelming. But, I’m here motherfuckers! Sometimes the act of just pushing through is helpful. You know? Maybe you know.

Anyways. Any-fucking-hoo, here we have Monday Morning Commute! Truth be told I’m digging a lot of shit these days, and these arts & farts are genuinely helping me through the week. So, I’ll drop them below, and I hope you’ll share your own collection of happenings and happiness-inducing activities in the comments.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Hey, friends! I know, Monday Morning Commute is a day late! But as my wife and I always say around that time of the month, “better late than not at all”, right? Here we are! Me kicking shit off crass as hell, which I suppose is par for my idiotic, juvenile course. How are you friends? Are you surviving the never ending Maelstrom of Cruelty and Resignation that is America in 2020? I hope so, dudes. I hope so. It ain’t easy, though! I’m feeling it lately.

From the privileged problems like not being able to go out to eat, to the more resonant ones like worrying about my job. My anxiety runs the whole gauntlet! Meanwhile, I suppose I’m just struggling with the loss of normalcy. I had a dream over the weekend that it was my first day back in the classroom after this whole son of a bitch runs its course. You know, to the extent that it ever will. COVID-19 is here forever in some form, baby! ‘Cause we all fucked up. But, man. That dream felt fucking good. I miss it, I genuinely do, the motherfucking classroom. My ass snapped awake, and there was just this melancholic-ass feeling in my guts.

I admit if my biggest sadness is not being able to teach in a classroom, I’m doing fucking well. Great, even. That said, it does register like a nut-punch to the existential nards that I’ll be teaching from home all Fall. Spring too, probably.

Anyways, enough caterwauling from this blubbering bitch. This is Monday Morning Commute! As probably all four of you know. Which means I’m about to give you a rundown of what I’m enjoying this week, what I’m looking forward to this week, and all of that other happy horseshit. Per usual, I hope you’ll join me in the comments. Ain’t gonna blame ya if you don’t, though!

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Oh golly gee, friends! I gotta confess, I’m hammer this out right after writing this week’s comic books column! Which means my already bedraggled, fucking pathetic attention span is deep-fried! Really just absolutely sent to the fucking moon! But, if I don’t turn on the lights, tap the keg, and unlock the door, who will? Fucking no one! And fuck, dude! I want to hang out with you pig-sniffers, which means I really have no choice.

Thus, I’m gonna keep this son of a bitch short, sweet, and poorly edited. Let’s dance the Dance of Relaxation together this weekend, my friend! Tell me, you playing anything gripping? You eating anything gripping? You gripping anything exciting? Really just sort of tugging back and forth? I’m interested in all the details, the nitty-gritty. Let me be your confidant,. no one else will know. Save for, you know, anyone and everyone who comes across this column.

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Hello, good friends! How is it going? Hope you’re staying healthy, hope you’re staying cool. There’s an absolute fucking monstrosity of a heat wave plastering the Northeast, and I’m realizing taking my daily two-mile walk was not the best idea. Said realization stemming from what can only be described as a scorched-ass feel from my unadorned cheeks. But, fuck! You know how it goes, dudes. I need my steps on the regular! Without a campus to canvas, it’s way too easily to let my pallid ass (a lot of me is tanned — my ass, and accompanying asshole? pale) fall into a sedentary lifestyle.

However, I’m paying the tab for it right now. A cruel mistress, nature happens to be. A beautiful one as well, though. What must be understood, what must be accepted, though — is she bargains with no one.

Anyways! Outside of a sun-raked skull-piece, I’m doing well. Today marks the true beginning of my pseudo-vacation. And dammit, I’m feeling better already. I’m sleeping, I’m more relaxed, Reality and All Its Horrors seem a bit more endurable. However,  I don’t know if it’s disappointing to know that this isn’t how I always feel, you know? Like, this certainly isn’t my typical disposition. Or rather, my disposition during the middle of the semester. That said, at the same time? Perhaps I wouldn’t appreciate these moments of placidity if they were the norm. That said, at the same-same-same time? That’s probably the perspective the Endless Behemoth of Industry and Cultural Commands To Hustle To Death want me to fall for!

Eh, what the fuck can you do? Enjoy the moment, motherfuckers. It’s really all that’s promised our asses, anyways.

This is Monday Morning Commute!

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Woo! It’s motherfucking vacation for me, baby! Well, almost. My summer class has concluded, which means that all I got across the next six weeks is the occasional work at the Writing Center. Woo! Woo! Drink in the musk of my euphoria, which will slowly burn off by early evening. I mean, I had to get up at 6:30 this morning. But, fuck it! Woo! Woo! Woo! It’s all good in this realm, baby! And, I hope you motherfuckers are ready to hang out this weekend!

Let’s pop on our robes, pop off our pants, and get to it, fellas! Stylin’! Profilin’! What are you beautiful fucks up to this weekend? Playing anything dope? Reading anything worthwhile? BBQing? It’s the time of times during the week when we all hang.

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What’s up, you grease-covered, slickened pieces of shit?! Or, rather that’s how I imagine your body. ‘Cause like most people, I can only imagine others bound by my own circumstances. You see, it’s hot as fuck out here in the Northeast. And that’s how I would describe myself. Greasy. Slick. Horny for air conditioning and ass. Hungry for cool breezes and caloric depravity. And most importantly? Feeling half-decent. With the semester winding down, I can feel my mind-anus unclenching. I’ve found myself sleeping a bit more deeply, and awakening a bit more carefree.

All of this explains why I’m actually writing an MMC on a Monday evening! Ha! Wowzers! Take a carrot, shine it with petroleum jelly, and stick it in my ass! Watch as I scream in delight! Cover the eyes of small children and other innocent passersby!

Anyways, what the fuck, let’s do this shit!

Here’s the detritus swirling up against my life-hole this week, tempting me, plugging me, encouraging me. I hope you’ll join me in the comments!

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It’s Tuesday, somewhere. It’s Tuesday, here! But, is it really Tuesday here? Who knows when you’re accessing this. Or, how you’re accessing this. From a phone, in 2025? From the past, via a digital-psychic projection? Are you wallowing in flesh-bound linear timespace? Or, have you transcended? Am I even fucking alive when you read this? Am I even alive right now, as I type this/typed this/will be typing this? Man, I don’t fucking know.

What do I know? That I’m lucky enough to have a place to vomit about space. What do I know? That I’m lucky enough to have you fellow fellows who are willing to engage in my hippie stupidity! What do I know? That I’m about to share what I’m looking forward to this week, and then I’m going to humbly request you join me in the comments section!

How the fuck does that sound? Did that sound? Will that sound? Hopefully good/good/good!

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Greetings and well-tidings, motherfucker! The All-Father himself has graced the post’s image this weekend! And that? It can only mean good things! How are you all, fellas? I apologize for going in absentia on Monday, but you know how it is! Oh, you don’t? Just busy, dudes. Teaching can be a real son of a bitch! Of course, we’re talking strictly time-wise. I love teaching, legit.

But, I’m here now! Fucking sweating! Fucking grooving! Ready to kickoff another weekend during this summer, during this pandemic, during this journey on Earth during the End of Days! I know, that got a bit morbid! However, all you motherfuckers can cheer me up!

How? By shooting the shit right here this weekend! At the Open Bar! It ain’t exactly the Gathering of the Juggalos (though ICP seems eerily progressive and pro-science these days), but we are definitely a collection of castaways, weirdos, and otherwise fantastical beasts. And I mean this in the best way possible!

So, let’s hang out this weekend! What are you playing? Some glorious misery porn in The Last of Us Part II? You watching anything? I just finished Mr. Robot, and I wholeheartedly recommend it! Or, perhaps you’re our own Eduardo Pluto! Quietly endeavoring to finish The Stand before me!

Whatever the case, let’s fucking party!

Coming in late, motherfuckers! Really sprinting down the digital aisles, asshole flapping in the wind. Man, the things I do to get MMC up on the regular! Seriously though, it’s late! I’m tired! But, I’m feeling good. Today was the first day of my summer semester, and I’ve missed teaching like a motherfucker.

After class concluded, I went downstairs wild-eyed and jacked up. My wife Sam said I seemed “energized” and I think that’s accurate. Parts of my brain just activate when I’m teaching, and I’m going to level with you. I don’t feel as though what I did the final eight-weeks or so of the Spring semester really were teaching. Or learning. Just an odd, confusing miasma that the students and I waded through together.

Confusion, asynchronous assignments, endurance. Yup, that’s really all we fucking put into this past Spring. But, with a new semester arises new excitement. At this point, the expectations are clear on both ends. And, I can just focus on transmuting my madness into the digital world. My primary concern at this juncture? Not swearing so much, since I assume not all my students will be rocking headphones.

Mamma mia, I’m finally going to get fired.

Anyways, I’m here! As I said. Ass out. Smile on. Caffeine consumed. Ready to tell you what I’m up to this week! What I’m looking forward to, what I’m rocking out to, what I’m cocking out to. Then, I hope you’ll join me in the comments! Motherfuckers!

This is Monday Morning Commute!

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