chopsuey

I'm listening to a lot of guitars and high-pitched vocals these days: Dio, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, (old) Savatage, Voivod, Hammerfall, the likes. Old stuff -- absolutely no Cookie Monster growls, blast beats, breakdowns, Satanic what-not and stuff. Just heavy metal in its purest, barest, most unadulterated form. Throw these fuckers in a CD-R with some not-quite-fresh tracks from Anthrax and Megadeth and WASP, among others, and that blade will surely cut, man.

The first of my research assignments has started trickling in. I see busy days ahead. I just hope money will soon follow. Kerouac's Windblown World is waiting for me in Powerbooks-Glorietta, and I've been told that the third Headbangers Ball compilation will be unleashed locally any day now. And there's that long overdue driving lesson. Sucks to be broke, indeed.

That's it for now. The heat is unbearable. Dusk is here but still the electric fan is of little comfort. I'm sweating like criminal on interrogation. Pretty damn hard to think . . .