books

Of books & man

Seems like all the book fiends I know are excited about the Big Bad Wolf Book Sale set to take place this weekend and will last up to the first week of March. My workmate Badette, for one, is electrified that she was chosen as among the VIPs who will have first dibs on the books, a day before the event officially opens.

Me, I’m likely to skip the event (again, just like last year). First, the venue — World Trade Center in Pasay City — is far from where I live. Secondly, I’ve activities galore in the next couple of weekends. And thirdly, the recent sales in Powerbooks and National Bookstore have put a serious dent in my finances.

Speaking of the National Bookstore sale, my visit there last Friday had been fruitful. Check out my loot:

books

Indeed, books about such colorful characters as serial killers, rock stars, and an infamous Colombian drug trafficker. I’ve been to many book sales, but this one’s among my favorite haul, so far.

Meanwhile, I’m already on page 437 of this 461-page monster that is Enter Night, Mick Wall’s biography of Metallica. Finishing this before February ends is now a sure thing.

image · movies · tv series · weekend

Weekend report 0007

nailbiter-vol-2-bloody-hands-tp_59e0dae728These days, it’s all Nailbiter. Finished Vol. 1 (“There Will Be Blood”) in one day, currently enjoying Vol. 2 (“Bloody Hands”), and looking forward to reading the succeeding volumes. Serial killers and comics, man. Welcome to my world.

So I missed several days last week, so what? There are really times when writing about how my day went seems like too much effort. A kind of dumb self-imposed pressure I can do without. Why force myself to write, when I can enjoy some additional free time instead? So I said fuck it and that was that. Who gives a shit, anyway?

Speaking of free time: I just had a three-day weekend where I just kicked back and relaxed after three long weeks of grueling shift and equally grueling commute. I don’t expect things to be better now, but at least I had that period of rest to nurse myself back to fighting condition. Hell yes, mentally and physically I am now ready for whatever curve ball life decides to throw at me.

And so much for that. During my three-day break from work I did the following (aside from reading Nailbiter, that is): started watching You on Netflix, caught up on the latest True Detective and Gotham seasons,  watched BlackKKlansman and Gimme Danger, and continued reading Mick Wall’s biography of Metallica. There was also a trip to the mall with the girls, and to the gym with the wifey. For all this I had to skip Komiket at ETON Centris. Still, it was a great weekend, all in all.

work

Hell Week 2 in full swing

deadpoolshrug_1024x1024

Sorry, kids. No comics today. The little time I had for reading was spent with James, Lars, Dave, and Ron — Metallica before they became the Metallica. Considering how preoccupied I am with Mick Wall’s biography of the band, I doubt I can spend much time with my comics backlog in the next few days.

And I’m also busy with work. Sick workmates mean double workload. Perhaps even OT, or weekend duty. Fuck that shit.

Can’t even summon the energy to yak about today. Except that I dropped by Powerbooks in Trinoma (since I was also on an errand there) and scored three Image Comics — Shutter Vols. 1 and 2, Manifest Destiny Vol. 1 and Copperhead Vol. 1.

feelz · marvel

Morbid Monday

deadpool_vol_3_4_moore_variantWith over a dozen new additions to my stack of TPBs and HCs courtesy of that damn Powerbooks’ clearance sale, I figured I should start reading them ASAP. So last Saturday, in the middle of reading frenzy, I cracked open Deadpool: Dead Presidents. It’s a slim book, consisting only of six issues, and I could’ve finished it in one sitting if I wanted to, but I didn’t. Something came up, namely Mick Wall’s Enter Night: A Biography of Metallica. So today I picked up from where I left off. One word to describe this book: insane. And I love it!

Perhaps it was the gloominess of Monday, but I was dark today. Like, heavy metal dark. Walking from my mother’s place to our house, a good half-kilometer walk, more or less, I thought I’d be comfortable killing myself at that very moment. (Take note: comfortable, not eager. Worlds apart.) In my mind I was already composing a note, with perhaps the best last paragraph I could think of to leave the world by. I was not troubled by the thought; in fact, I was kind of amused by it. Like I was about to do a little mischief to annoy the neighbors. Leave the bastards scratching their heads.

But nothing happened. I am writing this now, after all, with my head decidedly clearer.

Perhaps it was just a stray thought that lingered longer than it should. Still, I am not taking it lightly…