Bad spirits

The Thursday night group clowning around with Boojie’s (right) photobooth app.

Talk about a crazy-ass weekend. By crazy-ass, of course, I mean alcohol-fueled.

Dig this: 3 a.m. Friday found me at this gasoline station (Shell? Chevron? Fuck if I can remember) on Sumulong Highway upchucking my dinner and dignity from a jeepney’s window in full view of everyone — the driver and fellow passengers, some of whom clucked their tongues at the sight of me; the people in other vehicles lined up for their fill; the gas attendants; the assorted nighthawks who, for one reason or another, were there on that ungodly hour. It was humiliating, to say the least, and I actually felt sorry for the poor bloke who ended up cleaning the mess I left. And boy what a mess it was, I’m tellin’ ya (that I clearly remember).

Hours before that I was at my good friend Boojie Basilio‘s place in QC with office-mate Jonathan Perez. It was our semi-regular Thursday night session, only at a different venue. Bro talk and jazz music and Boojie’s version of a Long Island Cocktail washed down with ice-cold beer. I guess I had too much fun.

Actually, I was handling it pretty well at first. On my way home I was seated beside the jeepney driver and the cool mountain breeze on the highway was doing me good and reminding me of December. It was only when we stopped at the gasoline station and hot fumes assaulted my face and nostrils that my stomach did a somersault.

That was Friday morning.

Heavy metal videos kept Sidney and I entertained after listening to the new Opeth album, ‘Heritage’

Friday afternoon, after more or less five hours of troubled sleep and a late lunch, high school buddy Sidney Macalinao dropped by our place with bottles of Colt 45 and some junk food. He was there for our two-man listening party for the new Opeth album, Heritage. (Some word about it: It’s weird when one of the best death metal growlers decides he no longer wants to do death metal growls.) Sidney stayed until I kicked him out around 10 p.m. because by that time I was already tired and feeling debilitated from all the alcohol and shit and wanted nothing in the world but sleep.

Saturday I drank a lot of coffee and capped the day with Tanduay Ice because I was feeling kind of gloomy and feeling the pressure of another workweek on my shoulders. I have a lot to say about this, but I rather not bore you with it. This pathetic excuse of a blog entry has gone on long enough.

And then Sunday I woke up sick.

‘Sup, Supsup?

Miss Universe 2011 3rd runner-up Shamcey Supsup. Photo by Reuters.

Another workweek over, and what a week it was, memorable in part for the great number of “Supsup” jokes I heard, funny and otherwise. Poor Shamcey. Roll call must be hell for her in high school. Those sniggering boys. Perhaps they’re not sniggering now.

Scoring a Ginsberg bio for Php45 in Booksale is the best thing that happened to me this week

Seriously, it was a mentally exhausting week. I was given a writing assignment and I don’t know how in hell I can handle it. (It was a mistake saying yes to it considering my daily workload. Jesus, what was I thinking?) It’s about smoking cessation clinics. Interview people and turn what they have to say into a cohesive story — was what my bosses asked me to do. It looks fairly easy; it only gets difficult when the people I want to interview are not answering my calls and emails. Admittedly, I’ve very little patience for this. Add the fact that I loathe talking to strangers and one will conclude that I’m in the wrong profession. Yeah, dude, tell me something I don’t know.

Will give it my best shot, though. Good luck to me.

Meanwhile, it’s weekend. I’ll stop thinking about this shit and chill. And by chill I mean sleep a lot, watch a lot of TV, read like there’s no tomorrow, play with my beautiful daughter, and ride the scoot with my wife Charmaine on Saturday night.

Season finale

One episode left and Dexter season one is history. It’s 4:04 a.m. and I’m starting to feel the weight of the day on my eyelids. But this is why I love weekends. I can stay up all night and wake up noon or even later than that the next day.

Other stuff that’s making me giddy with excitement this weekend: the new Anthrax album, Worship Music, has been leaked. It’d be cool hearing a new material from these dudes with Joey Belladonna at the mic after seeing them perform live at the Amoranto Stadium last April 30 as headliners for this year’s Pulp SummerSlam. Also, new albums by the Foo Fighters and Journey. Yeah, laugh all you want, but this dude here digs Journey.

Today I also learned how to drive a scooter. It sounds awkward considering  that I’m already over 30, but so what?

Right. Back to Dexter now, and then some much needed Z’s.

Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas Pt. 2?

 

The official trailer for The Rum Diary, the movie based on the Hunter S. Thompson book of the same title, is out, and after seeing it, I’ve to admit that my excitement went several notches down. My first impression is that the producers had turned it into something like a Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas sequel rather than treating it as a whole new different and totally separate and unrelated project. I hope I’m wrong.

That aside, the movie seems to be a riot, and I’ll still watch it despite its apparent infidelity with the book. I’ll just avoid comparisons and expect less, which I think is the key to enjoying movies based on bestsellers.