Batman and Robin at Dinner

Robin sits down to dinner. The table is huge, and it spans most of the similarly-gigantic room, which is full of suits of armor and gargoyles and other gothic crap that Batman collects. On all four walls enormous televisions blare Fox News. The monstrous visage of Sean Hannity looms above Batman, who glowers fifty feet away. Steak again, thinks Robin, as he watches Batman skewer a piece of rare meat and chew it loudly with his mouth open.

"You're late," says Batman. Robin wonders how Alfred has never said anything about Batman's ridiculously audible mastication.

"I was out," said Robin, picking at the side of beef on his plate. You could feed a lion this steak and it wouldn't be hungry for a week, he thinks.

"You were at one of those goddamn rallies again, weren't you?" says Batman, his voice rising.

"Yes," admits Robin. He doesn't want to have it out again, but he can tell from the empty bottle of Chardonnay that Batman has been drinking, and so a row is inevitable.

"See if Gotham University gets any of my money next year," he says, stuffing a huge chunk of steak into his mouth. "It's become a goddamn liberal haven for commie pinkos and theater majors." Batman does a little gesture with his arms when he says theater majors that Robin interprets as a homosexual stereotype.

"You don't think there's anything wrong with the direction our country is heading?" asks Robin tentatively.

"There's nothing wrong with the United States of America. Name one thing. One goddamn thing," says Batman, spitting some meat on the table.

"The President, for one," says Robin, almost under his breath.

"He was elected by the American people!" screams Batman, pounding his fist on the table.

"He lost the popular vote.." begins Robin.

"If all the goddamn Mexicans hadn't illegally voted, then it wouldn't have been close!" says Batman, throwing the empty bottle of wine across the room. It shatters against a gargoyle statue, breaking off a tip of the wing. "Fuck!" screams Batman. "Alfred! Get in here and sweep this shit up!"

"Congress is about to take healthcare away from 23 million people," says Robin, still level-headed.

"Welfare queens and lazy fuckers who don't want to work!"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," says Robin. "You're a billionaire. An heir to a fortune. You were set for life the second you were born."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" screams Batman, jumping up on the table. He whips out a batarang and hurls it at a suit of armor, causing it to tumble apart. "You think I've had it easy? My parents were murdered in front of my goddamn eyes."

"You really need to see somebody about that," says Robin. "Like a psychiatrist."

"Shrinks are for lesbians and fat kids who masturbate to pterodactyl porn!" babbles Batman. He jumps down from the table and tries to flip it, but it's just too long and heavy.

"I think I'm going to go upstairs," says Robin, getting up from his seat.

"Don't you dare, don't you goddamn dare! Alfred hasn't even brought the fourth course. Where the hell is that old man? Jesus, I need to get myself a Spanish maid."

"Maybe if you offered him a better health plan he'd get that hip fixed," suggests Robin, already leaving the room.

"It's not my responsibility!" yells Batman, who has succeeded in breaking off a piece of the table. He throws it at Robin, but he has vanished, and the projectile bounces harmlessly off the open door. Batman then falls down on the floor in a drunken stupor, where he will remain till morning. Alfred will clean up the mess, as he does every night. He thinks of moving in with his brother in Metropolis, but he doesn't know what Batman will do without him, and he doesn't want that on his conscience.

Is Batman's Superpower Male White Privilege?

Batman gets pulled over for speeding. He smiles at the cop and shows a little leg. The officer lets him off with just a warning. Yet another win for Batman.

The Gotham City Council discusses raising taxes on the wealthy by ten percent. Batman gives all their addresses to the Joker. The resolution doesn't pass. Nobody taxes the Batman.

Batman gets into a heated discussion with Robin over race and poverty. You see, Robin's been taking sociology classes at Gotham University, and Batman's afraid he's turning into a hippy. The discussion ends when Batman punches Robin in the face. Score one for Batman.

Batman and Chief Gordon go for a ride around town. They pull over a black guy just because he's black. When they find weed in his car, Batman looks at Gordon and says "I told you so." Goddamnit, Batman.

Batman comes home and finds Robin dressed in baggy clothing and listening to hip hop music. Batman fucking loses it and says some deplorable things. He makes Alfred cry.

Wayne Enterprises fires twenty percent of its workforce to cut costs, even though there was an increase in profits last quarter. Bruce Wayne releases a statement apologizing for the cuts, but explaining that they were necessary. He gives himself a twenty percent raise.

Sometimes, when he's drunk, Batman waits outside of homeless shelters and attacks homeless people to steal their food. People have to pay Batman's share.

When Robin brought home a Latino friend, Batman made Alfred follow him around so he didn't steal anything.

Batman often wonders out loud why poor people can't just get a job and hold it.

Controversy ensues when Bruce Wayne speaks at Gotham University's graduation ceremony. He says that "Hitler had some good ideas," though he does not explain himself.

Batman is still learning that the n-word is not acceptable for use in public conversation.

Believe it or not, but Batman has been accused of sexual assault numerous times. He always manages to weasel himself out of a trial by using his vast fortune and by attacking the credibility of the witness. Catwoman's a burglar; you expect her to tell the truth? Have you seen the outfits she wears? You're telling me she's not asking for it?

Batman doesn't do handouts. He had to work for everything he has. Sometimes he rolls up one-hundred dollar bills and lights them on fire.

Batman threatened to leave America if Obama was reelected. He briefly made good on his promise, retreating to the Swiss Alps for a few months after the election.

All of Batman's super villains are white. That's because Batman's no-kill policy is selective.

Batman and Robin's Political Debates

 

Robin is enjoying a nice cup at coffee at his favorite Gotham shop when he sees a huge black truck pull up.There is a blue and black American flag flying on the left, while a Trump flag rises like a specter of doom from the right of the bed. The door opens, and Batman climbs out. He is decked out in his heavy assault body armor, but now there are little Trump heads dotted all over the front of it, as though some dumb bastard gave a toddler a bunch of Trump stickers and told them to go to town. As he enters the coffee shop, some people audibly gasp. Batman marches up to the counter, sits down on a stool, and barks at the barista.

"White mocha, on the double. Hurry it up, honey. My taxes are subsidizing your poverty-level wages."

Robin chokes a little bit when he hears this. He knows Bruce hasn't paid any income taxes in about four years.

A little boy comes up to Batman and asks for his autograph. The Batman shakes his head, sighs, and then scribbles something on a napkin before handing it to the kid.

"Batman? Why does this napkin say 'get a job?'"

"Because I'm done doing handouts. When I was your age, my parents were gunned down before me. What do you think I did after that? I got my ass up and started working. Let that be a lesson to you."

"Is the lesson capitalism destroys your capacity for empathy?" asks Robin, coming over to the kid's defense.

"Oh Jesus, I didn't know you were here," says Batman.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? What's up with the redneck ride out there?" asks Robin.

"I don't want anyone to mistake my political stance on anything, anymore," replies Batman.

"That's why you're covered in Trump stickers?"

"I want him to be the last thing criminals see before I destroy their faces," says Batman.

"Your feet are firmly planted on the road to fascism. Fuck democracy, eh?"

"The United States is a republic, not a democracy."

"We're a democratic republic. A republic is just a representative government. Did you get that from Fox News or something?"

"Robin, our culture is about to be destroyed. There's no holding back. If we don't act now, there won't be an America to wake up to!"

The mocha arrives, and Batman tries to swig it down like a beer, but it's too damn hot, and he spits most of it back at the barista, who cries and runs to the back.

"The ends justify the means, is what you're saying. You and your ilk are ready to burn it all down because of the increasing social liberalism of society, even though you could hide in your country clubs and five star dinners with the rest of the rich parasites and never even encounter a minority. Christ, Bruce, you're not some country bumpkin. You're the one percent. You're not supposed to fall for this brainwashing."

Batman smiles. The mocha has painted a mustache on his upper lip.

"Who says I'm falling for anything?"

He gets up, throws some change on the counter, and flips off the rest of the clientele before throwing a few crotch chops their way. As he burns out of his parking spot, the air is filled with thick diesel fumes that linger like a malevolent spirit.

"I'm the head fucker of Fuck-You-America!" screams the Batman as he tears down the road. "So fuck you!"

Batman and Robin: Democratic Presidential Primary

The halls of Wayne Manor echo as Batman prowls, brooding in his dark manner. His phone is in his left hand; his right finger casually swipes every few seconds as the world's greatest detective browses the world wide web. He almost bumps into Robin, who has just returned from voting in the Democratic presidential primary.

"Holy fucking smokes," says Batman, the right corner of his mouth turning upward into a grimace. "Take care when you come around corners. There are people walking around here, you know."

"Sorry, Bruce," says Robin. "I'm going to go up to my room and rattle off a quick blog post..."

"Another political puff piece?" says Batman. "No doubt devoted to that loony communist, I assume?"

Robin stares coldly at Batman, futilely attempting to keep this brief conversation from devolving into another violent shouting match.

"I thought we agreed not to talk politics," he says finally. "I'm not going to convince you to change your opinions, and you also cannot convince to me to change mine. It's not healthy for our relationship to argue so."

"You voted for Sanders, didn't you? He doesn't have a snowball's chance anymore. The numbers are coming in. Biden's won in a landslide. Trump's going to expose his son's Ukraine corruption and the Dems are going to lose again like the America hating losers they are."

Batman's smile is so smug Robin can practically see the shit dripping from his grin. It takes all of his willpower not to cold cock his former mentor.

"Yes, I'm sure a guy who can't crack a 44 percent approval rating is a sure bet for reelection. Just keep living in your right wing news bubble, Bruce. Most of America hates Trump's guts. Sure, Joe Biden isn't a great candidate, but he's not an orange piece of human excrement like your hero. Keep in mind that your President's been accused of sexual assault by seventeen women. Six of his businesses have gone bankrupt. He's been involved in over thirty-five thousand lawsuits. Christ, just look at his Twitter feed. He possesses the brains of a school yard bully. And you're going to cast your vote for him this year, aren't you? How, Bruce? Fucking how?"

"What?" asks Bruce. He was staring down at his phone during Robin's outburst, and has just now realized that he's been asked a question.

"I bet you can't even define what a communist is," says Robin dismissively.

"A communist is somebody who wants a handout and a handjob without doing any work. He's the kind of person who spits on soldiers and throws babies in the dumpster. He's got glasses and noodle arms. He's probably a vegan and on the fence about his sexuality. His girlfriend hits him in the balls whenever she wants, and he apologizes."

"Where do you come up with these caricatures?" asked Robin. "You did not describe a real person. That's a goddamn cartoon character, Bruce."

"You're a goddamn cartoon character, Robin! Look at you in your slacks and sweater vest. You look like a goddamn political officer! Where's your armband? Where's the hammer and sickle?"

Batman makes a grab for Robin, but he is too slow. He stumbles into a suit of armor and roars. The halls echo with his senseless exclamations. Robin makes his exit and sighs. He has a couple of friends that need a roommate. Wayne Manor is no longer a welcoming place.

Batman and Robin, New Year's Eve

It is dark, as it always is, inside Wayne Manor when Robin finally comes home after a night of celebrating new year's eve with his friends. Batman sits in the parlor, fully dressed in his costume, a multi-monitor display parked in front of him. He grunts as Robin sits down on a chaise lounge, confetti in his hair, a kazoo stuck in his mouth like a cigar. The jubilant expression on his youthful face irritates Batman, who has spent the last three hours browsing the internet with a scowl on his own weathered visage.

"Happy new year's, Bruce," says Robin, trying to break the ice.

"Have you seen this?" barks Batman, pointing at one of the monitors. "More fake news about the Russia investigation. I've never seen such a witch-hunt. It's goddamn disgusting."

Robin sighs. He knew it would be like this, that ever since the election, Batman's obsession with right wing media had overtaken his life to a disturbing degree. He had hoped that the new year might bring forth another change. It seems that he was mistaken.

"Clark was there. So was Aquaman. We had a drinking contest. Guess who won?" says Robin, desperate to change the topic.

"I took a look into Mueller's record. You won't believe the shit he's done. He's deep state. We're watching the integrity of the United States disappear before our very eyes and no one's doing anything about it," growls Batman, who takes a long sip from a flask that he removed from his utility belt.

"Wonder-woman, that's who won," says Robin quietly. "They asked about you."

"Did they?" says Batman, looking at Robin out of the corner of his eye. "What did all the illegal aliens have to say?"

"Jesus, Bruce. They've been your friends for years," protests Robin.

"I'm not friends with anyone who hasn't been through the proper vetting process," says Batman, shaking his head. "You think Clark has a social security card? Where's his birth certificate, huh? Doesn't that strike you as a little bit suspicious?"

"He's from Krypton, Bruce. He's an alien from outerspace, not Mexico," says Robin.

"Too many of them," mumbles Batman, turning back to his screen. "Taking jobs from real Americans..."

"Name one person who can fly at supersonic speeds, has immense strength, can see through anything, and who can shoot laser beams from their eyes," says Robin.

"I don't know where I went wrong," says Batman suddenly, finally turning to face Robin. "You grew up reading the Federalist papers. I read the Constitution to you as a bedtime story. You were eighteen before you saw a movie that didn't have John Wayne in it. Goddamn it, Robin, I taught you to kick ass and wave an American flag. You used to not ask questions before beating the hell out of somebody. What the hell happened to you?"

"I grew up," says Robin, standing. "Happy new year's, Bruce."

"Goddamn it, call me Batman!" Batman roars. He punches through a monitor and waves his arm around. It seems to be stuck, but Robin doesn't turn back. He's getting tired of these arguments. There has to be a change.

Batman and Robin: The Shit Hits the Fan

 

Batman is grinding his way through a bowl of grapenuts when Robin appears in the kitchen, his bags packed. His face wears a pained expression, as though he is dreading what is coming next. Nevertheless, he pulls up a chair and sits down next to Batman, his hands folded together before him.

"I'm moving out," he says

"'About time," replies Batman. His mastication sounds like the grinding of gears.

"Bruce, we've known each other a long time. You've been like a father to me. But the last four years or so, we've grown apart..."

"Liberal pussy talk," snorts Batman in disgust.

"And I really can't take it anymore. Not with a month to go. I need to be some place else."

"Why? What's happening in a month?" asks Batman, a slight smile on his unshaven face.

"Americans get one last chance to save their democracy," says Robin.

"More like Americans get one more chance to make America liberal pussy free," says Batman.

"That's the position you're going to take? Is that a real argument or just a senseless insult?" asks Robin.

"Got to watch the polls. Christ knows Antifa will be out, along with the Black Lives Matter punks. I'll be there, roosting. Any child-kidnapping, Satan-worshiping communists try to cast their vote, well, they'll be good and fucked, lemme tell you. I ain't dragging their ass to Commissioner Gordon. No one will ever find the bodies."

"I'm not really sure if you're serious or not. Tell me your not serious," pleads Robin.

"Oh I'm serious. I got contacts in Metropolis as well. They're planning a little something special for ol' illegal alien Clark Kent. Let's just say Superman will be forced to go back to his shit-hole country instead of infesting the US of A with his commie bullshit."

"His planet literally doesn't exist anymore, Bruce. You know that. You expect him to go back to a broken collection of rocks?"

"You can't let any of them in, not a single fucking one!" screams Batman, pounding his fist on the table. The bowl of grapenuts overturns and spills its rock-hard contents all over the floor.

"What the fuck happened to democracy?" asks Robin, getting up from the table.

"Democracy? This is a federal republic, not ancient Athens! This country was founded by white Christian men, and by god, that's how it's going to stay! We don't need any Kryptonians, no fucking Martian Manhunters, no goddamn illegals from under the sea that fuck dolphins and fish-people! I'm going to take a big fist-full of Jesus and shove it so far down their throats that when they take a shit, it'll be a perfect reproduction of Donald Trump's face!"

"What? You want Aquaman's poop to look like Trump? That's even bizarre for you, Bruce. Isn't that kind of disrespectful of the President?"

"Take your book-reading, soy-latte-sipping, manscaped pussy-queefing ass out of my mansion, you piece of shit!"

Robin ducks as the box of grapenuts flies past his face. He doesn't know what the next year will bring. He's not sure if he'll ever see Batman again. As he goes out the door, he is filled with an incredible sense of sadness. The MAGA sign in the front yard of Wayne Manor taunts him like one of the Joker's grotesque poisonous balloons, and he has to fight an urge to rend it into pieces. He knows he can't change Batman. He hopes Batman will change himself.

Batman Versus Robin: The Denial

 

Batman prowls the streets, searching for criminals that deserve the swift fists of justice. As he swings from roof top to roof top, a mantra is heard, barely comprehensible, yet said with vigor. "Fraud, fraud, fraud!" he mutters, eyes red, slivers of spittle flying from his lips. Momentarily perched on a gargoyle above a coffee shop, he sees a younger couple walk out onto the street, soy lattes in hand. With a bestial roar, Batman drops down before them, arms spread wide as though he means to crush them both in a titanic embrace.

"Who the fuck did you vote for!" he screams, grabbing the man by his lapels. "Did you chose to make America socialist again, you curly haired poofter?"

The woman throws her coffee right at Batman's face, causing him to drop the man and clutch his eyes. As the couple flees in terror, another figure emerges from the shadows to loom over the disabled Batman.

"You need some help?" asks Robin.

"Motherfucking communists blinded me," mumbles Batman, removing a Bat-hankie from his utility belt to wipe his face.

"I see you're not handling the election results very well," replies Robin.

"Fraud! Democrats cheated!" says Batman.

"Yeah, the Republican state government of Georgia cheated in favor of Joe Biden. If they cheated, don't you think they would've kept the Senate? There have been zero cases of fraud. Trump's lawsuits keep getting thrown out of court. You have to accept the inevitable. Trump will not get another four years."

"I don't have to accept shit! I make my own goddamn reality, you understand that? What Batman says is, is. And I'll be damned if I'll accept a socialist running the country."

"Joe Biden, socialist?" Robin laughs. "It's almost as if you don't understand what the word 'socialism' means."

"It means everything that is wrong with this country," snorts Batman. "Transgenders. Obamacare. School lunches without wholesome processed food."

"When the Right talk about socialism, they want you to think about an authoritarian boogeyman who will take all your money. They don't want you to think about Medicaid, Social Security, Medicare, or the Affordable Care Act. Hell, any government program is technically socialism. Rich people like you have somehow convinced poor white people to vote against their own interests, mainly by appealing to their emotions and prejudices."

"Goddamnit, Robin, you should be arrested for treason," says Batman, removing a batarang from his belt.

"We live in a representative democracy. There's nothing in the Constitution that says I have to vote for a capitalist oligarchy."

"Smarty-pants commie word soup," says Batman. "Nothing you said makes any sense."

"That's because you've spent the last four years in an echo chamber totally divorced from reality," says Robin. "You're attacking people outside coffee shops because you see monsters everywhere. Your fellow Americans are not the bad guys, Bruce."

"I get to say who's an American, not you, you pampered pansy!"

"I'm beginning to think that you don't understand American values," says Robin. "Then I remember that you are a vigilante who operates outside the legal system so that you can beat up the lower dregs of society with your fists."

"That's the legacy I bequeathed to you! You're supposed to take up my mantle!" screams Batman, now out in the middle of the street. Cars honk and swerve around him, but Batman continues to yell and wave his arms like a madman.

"I reject it," says Robin. "I'm retiring as a crime fighter to pursue a career in environmental law."

"Fuuuuccckkkkkkkkkk!" yells Batman as an Escalade flips him over the windshield. He bounces off the next car and crashes into a bicyclist before coming to rest next to a drain. As he lies in the gutter, moaning and crying inconsolably, Robin retreats back into the shadows, leaving the past behind.

Batman and Robin: Impeachment

Batman prowls the rooftops, the embodiment of the night, a shadow on the move. He stops below an alleyway and watches two men talking. They are not of the Caucasian persuasion, and Batman's criminal detecting senses are tingling. In a second he is upon them, a massive presence looming out of the darkness. The men, who have been looking at their phones, gasp and turn to run. Thirty seconds later, they're out cold, Batman's fists having connected with their skulls.

"Degenerates," he says, as he ties their hands. He's just placed a call to Commissioner Gordon when another body lands in the alley. It is his former ward and estranged protegee, Robin, who has taken to calling himself Nightwing.

"What exactly is going on here?" asks Nightwing.

"Superhero business. Catching criminals," huffs the Batman.

"What were these men guilty of?"

"They looked suspicious," says Batman.

"You know Gordon just lets them go. Several of them are suing the police department. They say that you are an extension of corrupt policies."

"What do you mean 'they'?" asks the Batman.

"Oh, come on, Bruce. You're racially profiling. You are jumping down from the rooftops and beating up minorities with your bare fists without provocation! You are a terrorist! There's a Facebook page about you, you know."

"There's a Facebook page defending me.."

"Yes, I know, you've sent it to me. Most of the people commenting are Alt-Right weirdos at best. The other half are Neo-Nazis."

"Christ, do we have to go through this again? It's like the Impeachment debate. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

Nightwing throws his hands up in the air. He violently assaults a trashcan, swearing as he does so.

"What more does he have to do for you to abandon him! So it's okay for the President to ask a foreign government to investigate a political opponent?  It's fine for him to obstruct a Congressional investigation?"

"A witchhunt..." begins the Batman.

"Yes, yes, the President is the most unjustly persecuted man since Jesus Christ. You don't care that he never divested himself from his business, or that he used campaign funds to pay off an escort. You don't give a shit about the human rights abuses occurring at the border, or the military's transgender ban. It doesn't matter that he fired the FBI director for investigating him, or that he openly courts Russian involvement in our elections. Every baseless conspiracy theory retweeted is inconsequential. His unprofessional attitude, his clear ignorance, his disgusting narcissism, it's all a feature, not a bug. You might mumble something about federal justices or the tax cut, but it is racism and bigotry you're supporting. That's why you won't leave him. He's the embodiment of fuck-you politics. He's the ugly spawn of years of right-wing talk radio, Fox News, and intellectual decline. He's not the President we want. He's the President we deserve."

"You done?" asks the Batman, unperturbed by Nightwing's rant.

"What?" says Nightwing.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me lug these bodies into the Batmobile?"

Batman Versus Robin: Election 2020

Robin drove up right as Batman was hanging the one-hundred foot banner across the front yard of Wayne Manor.

"Oh God, Bruce, no, just no," said Robin.

"Make America Great Again, Again," said Batman, take a Bat-beer from his utility belt. "Custom made. Now everyone that drives by will know that I stand with the President and not the CIA-backed Colour Revolution."

"Were you referring to the George Floyd protests? Christ, that's racist."

 "Everything's racist now. I can't tell jokes. I can't requested a non-ethnic waiter at my favorite restaurant. The tabloids are wondering why Bruce Wayne's never dated a black woman. Jesus. If there's one thing I'm not racist about, it's broads."

"Bruce, you got to take this sign down. You'll get kicked off the Gotham school board. Charities will refuse to take your money. You know Trump's very unpopular here..."

 "Mayor James is a partisan hack. You know who I'm backing this November."

"Yeah, Oswald Cobblepot. AKA the Penguin! You really will vote for anyone that's a Republican."

"I support his agenda, not the man. He's gonna drain the swamp..."

"He's going to pollute the natural watershed with toxic chemicals from his backers' industrial plants."

"Progress, Robin, progress. I suppose you like washing your hands without soap? You like that fork you're eating kale with? Because somebody's got to make that fork and that soap."

"You're delusional, Bruce. I literally can't have a conversation with you anymore. It's like talking to a brick wall that parrots right wing talking points."

"Go complain to your blog. In fact, here, I have a present for you."

Batman threw a MAGA hat in Robin's face.

"Here, have this too. That's an absentee ballot for all of your illegal friends. Make sure Superman votes twice, the illegal son of a bitch."

Batman threw a bunch of envelopes in Robin's face.

"You're a facist!" screamed Robin. "You support what they're doing with the post office? People shouldn't have a right to vote anymore? If you stand against democracy, what do you stand for?"

"They're all corrupt. You might as well vote for the one that's not a baby killer," said Batman, standing back to take a picture of his Make America Great Again banner. If he can get Robin to help him later, he plans on putting the picture on his Instagram.

Blog Plans for 2022

 

There is no reason for this screenshot to be here other than its hilarity.

So this blog started back in 2013 as a medium to post my creative projects, mainly my music and writings. Since then, it's evolved somewhat, becoming sort of a Something Awful front page lite in 2015, and then recently turning into more of a video game review site. My output has waned from my highpoint in 2015, when I manged 163 posts, but I'm a lot busier nowadays, and sometimes instead of writing I'd rather zone out and play video games. I'd like to keep this project going, however, and I don't want to see my output peter out like it did in 2017, when I only posted 60 times. Therefore, I'm setting some goals for this blog in an effort to give it a little more time and respect. Here are the main ones.

-post 10 times a month.

-include one piece of new music per month.

-continue some of my long-running series, like the Conan Brothers, Farmer's Only Profiles, and Batman and Robin's Political Debates.

-post a game review per month.

-include an excerpt from whatever novel I'm working on (hah).

-keep that bad poetry flowing.

-do a weightlifting post per month.

-try to keep this fun.

I'd love to bring back the Pointless Podcast, a podcast so pointless and vulgar that we had to discontinue it; however, I doubt that I have the time, and that I'd be able to find willing participants, and there's always the specter of saying something unfortunate that is preserved forever on the net. So that's what you, dear reader, can look forward to this coming year. May it be a better year than the last two.