Hashoitus interruptus

A wet and mild trail yesterday but that was appropriate for the rainy weather we endured. A simple hike I’d done many times, starting in Alta Vista, through Marian Hills, a moderate climb to the ridgeline, and then an easy trek on My Bitch to our On-Home at Derelick’s place on Rizal Extension.

Which is not to say there wasn’t any excitement. As is my habit I was sitting on the screened porch with Derelick and a few other Hashers. Derelick called out to his helper to go close the front gate. Me, being the smartass that I am, picked up my phone, pretended to dial, and then said in a low voice “they are closing the gate now, but everyone is here. Proceed as planned”. And wouldn’t you know it, right after I put my phone down several uniformed police came in through the gate. Well, damn.

None of the cops came back to the porch area but instead interacted with the group of Hashers hanging out in the carport. I donned my facemask and stepped outside to get a better view of what was going on. My ex approached me and said she was leaving and I should leave too. I asked why and she told me they are talking about taking everyone to the police station for violating quarantine rules (gatherings of 10 or more are prohibited. We had around 30 in attendance). Well, I had not so fond memories of the time our Hash group had been detained by the Philippine Navy, so the idea of making a getaway sounded like a good one to me. As I walked past the police officers I heard one of them telling the group of foreigners that rules are rules and we are obligated to follow them. None of the cops paid me any attention as I moved towards the gate and slipped out. I was about ten minutes into my walk when the police van drove past me and I noticed there were no Hashers confined in the back. So, I decided to turn around and walk back to Derelick’s (all uphill) to see what happened.

The story as I understood it was that someone had called the cops to complain about a loud and large party taking place. Since this was the first day of the new more restrictive rules on gatherings I guess the police were looking to make an example out of someone. In the end, they didn’t, letting us off with a warning. The cops said if they were called again we’d all be detained and fined. Derelick explained that his housekeeper has been feuding with the neighbors and them dropping a dime on us was just retaliation. He didn’t think it was really a big deal.

Well, it did put a damper on things, that’s for sure. Buddy Fucker, our Grandmaster, canceled the ice delivery and declared there would be no circle. He later relented and conducted a modified circle for those who were scheduled for recognition. The Grandmaster also announced that the Hash would take a two-week hiatus to allow things to calm down a bit. I guess he later relented because I saw a post that we are doing a Hash next Monday, but the On-Home is being moved to Fuck a Duck’s house here in Alta Vista. That obviously works for me. It’s a great house (one of the nicest I’ve ever seen anywhere) and it is an easy stumble home for me afterward. So, it looks like it’s all good.

It was a short trail yesterday and it was raining so I didn’t take the phone out much for photos. Here are a few that I did manage to acquire:

The walk we walked. All familiar ground, but it’s saturation with water made for a bit of a challenge. I had some slips and trips, but thankfully no falls.
And we are On-On!
Approaching Marian Hills…
Back with My Bitch.

The thatch grass must be loving all this rain. Bigger and thicker than ever! It snot bad.
Hot To Trot was sweet and kind enough to hang back with the old guy so I wouldn’t be alone on trail. I appreciated the company…
Easter mountain on a rainy day.
I always appreciate the messages that I know have been left specifically for my benefit and encouragement. Thank you, Jesus! Or Satan.
Rizal Extension in all its wet glory.
Back at the On-Home, the Hash Gashes were keeping an eye on the food they had prepared.
A sad and quiet (no singing) modified Hash circle. Hopefully, we will be back to normal next week.

And there you have my weekly Hash report, chock full of the kind of excitement I just don’t need! Seriously, as a foreigner, I can certainly imagine the powers that be making an example of a flagrant violator of their oh so precious rules. That could involve a blacklisting from immigration forcing me to leave my adopted home.

Let’s just say I don’t want to do anything stupid!
And that’s all for this post.

Enough already

Here we are on Hash Monday and experiencing our third straight day of heavy rainfall. I guess I really shouldn’t complain. It’s been a relatively dry rainy season up to this point. And from what I’ve been seeing in South Korea our rainfall ain’t squat. But I don’t have to like it.

A nice enough view out my window I suppose, but you can have too much of a good thing as well.

I guess if I were looking for a silver lining in those clouds I could point to this:

This tree has been growing like a weed and the top of it began obstructing the view from my upstairs balcony. I was contemplating cutting it down but mother nature took care of that problem for me. Thank you!
The bay is about as angry as I’ve seen it.

In other news, today is the beginning of yet another round of bullshit imposed by the local government ostensibly to fight the spread of COVID. I mentioned the 7:00 p.m. curfew and the Sunday lockdown already. But now there is also this:

Imprisoned in Olongapo for all intents and purposes.

Nobody leaves or enters Olongapo without having the proper travel documents and health clearance. That should make things interesting around here.

Well, based on these numbers the virus isn’t doing nearly as much damage to people’s lives as the government is.

I saw this on Facebook so I can’t vouch for its accuracy, but it does illustrate the point that the problems that are being exacerbated are far worse than anything the virus might do:


Each day, 95 children in the Philippines die from malnutrition. Twenty-seven out of 1,000 Filipino children do not get past their fifth birthday. A third of Filipino children are stunted, or short for their age. Stunting after 2 years of age can be permanent, irreversible and even fatal.” (UNICEF)
So nearly 3,000 children a month not to include stunted growth issues. We are talking about 20,000 children died this year in Phillippines due to malnutrition.
We have over 2209 total deaths of COVID since the virus outbreak (corona tracker) and in that time 20,000 children died of malnutrition.
What is the priority? What is the focus?

I’ve been in the Sweden mindset since the beginning of this insanity. No lockdowns, no closures, no mandates; just the application of common-sense prevention measures. It seems to have worked out well for them.

Funny how that works.

Alright, time for this old man to climb down from his soapbox. But before I go, I do want to say this:

And get off my lawn!

Thanks for dropping by!

I had intended to include this in yesterday’s post. But it works here too I think.

Alone With Everybody

Life is a poem, and then you die. Well, that line sounded a lot more profound when it was in my head than it does when it appears in pixels. I’m no poet, although there was a time when I expressed my teenage angst in words that rhyme. Kinda like that. I even posted some of my work from those long-ago days here. There’s a reason I became a mailman rather than a writer.


The Only Way

Perhaps the best way
Is your way
Maybe the best belief
Is not to believe
Maybe the only answer
Is no answer
And maybe the only time
Is this time…
And yet,
Why can’t our love
Be the only love?

Alone

Alone in my fantasies
Alone with my dreams
But when I wake with the dawning
One sullen fact remains
That I am alone in my love for you—
The sun doesn’t shine, it rains.

See what I mean? The scary thing (besides the bad poetry) is that all these years later I am still more or less living those sentiments. Talk about being a slow learner!

But this post is about a real honest-to-goodness poet I truly admire–Charles Bukowski. Perhaps I’m a selfish reader of poetry, but my favorites are the ones whose words resonate with the thoughts and emotions I have experienced. I grew up around poetry; some of my earliest memories are of my father reading poems out loud to us kids. Over the years I’ve collected dozens of books by the likes of Sara Teasdale, e e cummings, James Kavanaugh, and various anthologies.

These are the ones who made the journey to the Philippines with me.

And nope, I’ve never owned a book of Bukowski poems. I actually discovered him relatively late in life. In fact, as I was preparing this post I saw where I had written about reading him for the first time back in November 2005. That post included a link to a Bukowski biography that is also quite interesting. I love the fact that he too is a former postal worker.


Convinced, then, almost from the outset of the hopelessness of humanity and lasting friendship, he largely rejected the goals after which most strive. Instead, he found solace in alcohol. “Getting drunk was good,” Bukowski says in Ham on Rye. “I decided that I would always like getting drunk. It took away the obvious and maybe if you could get away from the obvious often enough, you wouldn’t become obvious yourself” (189). Drinking and remaining “unobvious” thus became Bukowski’s vocation, until, that is, he started writing seriously around 1960. Then drinking, remaining “unobvious,” and writing were his vocations, and remain so to this day. Necessitated by the fact that none of his vocations paid enough for him to survive, he worked as dishwasher, truckdriver and loader, mailman, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouseman, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator, among other things (Contemporary Authors 109).

Heh, I guess the drinking part is something else we have in common. But that’s obvious, right?

So yesterday’s rain kept me confined to the house and passing away the hours on the internet. Which led me to discover this article about a new documentary called You Never Had It: An Evening With Charles Bukowski.


The paradox of Bukowski was that he was a poet who wrote about drinking, screwing, the track, despair and fighting, but had a persona that was gentle, mirthful and self-deprecating. It’s easy to imagine his voice, with its gentle lisp, used today for guided meditation audio. When Bukowski talks about “drinking and fucking and drinking and fucking” it’s with a shy smile and playful eyes that won’t always connect with the interviewer. It’s telling that Bukowski, the author of books like Love is a Dog from HellWomen and Post Office, loved classical music, particularly Beethoven. Despite the dipsomania, he spoke with great precision.

Is it any wonder I like this guy?

So I was inspired to spend some time reading Bukowski poems yesterday. I didn’t like everything I came across, but this one stood out for some reason.

“Alone With Everybody”


the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

Powerful stuff, at least to my troubled mind.

My favorite Bukowski poem remains “The Laughing Heart“. I’ve shared it here several times, but the first time was the night I discovered it: Christmas Eve 2015. And what made it especially special was the way I found it:

Jee Yeun and I had recently split up and I was very bitter and cynical about love. I was lamenting to a bar friend about the forlorn state of my psyche, when this stranger walks up to me and says “I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but don’t ever give up!”  Then she asked if I’d ever read “The Laughing Heart” by Charles Bukowski. Now, I’m a sucker for poetry and have read some of Bukowski’s stuff, but never this particular poem.  So I grabbed my phone and pulled it up for a quick read. Well, that hit the spot.  And I was very moved by the random act of kindness of the person who reached out and shared it.

And it is still raining.

That’s a no go

Overcast with some rain this morning provided all the excuse I needed to forego getting off my lazy ass for a hike. Truth be told I’ve been extremely unmotivated of late. And I’ve got the belly to prove it. Ah well, I’ll step it up again soon.

But not in these:

One of the pairs of shoes I ordered arrived today. They were a steal at only 600 pesos ($12) but you get what you pay for. Very poor padding and cheap quality not suitable for trail hiking.

So now I’m not optimistic the three other pairs are going to be suitable either. Which is why I don’t normally by shoes online. I’m especially concerned about the fit. The sizing for ordering was in EU standards, so I looked up the conversion and it said EU45 was equivalent to US size 11. Well, the label on these shoes does say EU45 but it also says US size 10. They are too tight for sure, not that it matters since I will not be wearing them.

And if things weren’t bad enough, last night it was announced that the curfew is being dropped back to 7 p.m. and starting next week the Sunday lockdown is being reinstated.

It’s getting pretty fucking depressing.

Of course, my inconvenience is nothing compared to the impact this has on recently reopened businesses and the people they employ. It has been astounding to witness the lack of concern government officials have for the Filipino people. How much more ass rapes they will tolerate is unclear but I’ve noticed a lot more grousing from normally docile locals. The sorry shame of it all is the fucking virus doesn’t give a shit what time it is and these measures are worthless. The pandemic is going to run its course curfew or no. The open question is will more die from starvation or COVID? Stay tuned.

Alright, had a good hike from Kalaklan in Olongapo back to Barretto yesterday. Jim, Scott, and Trey were in attendance. Around 6K all told, but some challenging trails along the way. It was a beautiful day and I’ve got the pictures to prove it.

The path we walked took us up and down, then up and down, and we ended up at Cheap Charlies to rehydrate and enjoy some lunch.
Off we go!
Waiting on the old guy.
Here he comes!
Looking back at Olongapo we could see it was raining in the distance. Was it coming our way? Why yes it was! We were at least down from the mountain when it arrived though.
A bay view to enjoy.
And on we marched.
There was candy to deliver…
This little girl was too shy to accept my offering…
So I took the candy around back and left it there…
But smiles like these two gave me make it all worthwhile…
Back to work!
Get out of the way you two, you’re blocking the view!
That’s better.
Your wall ain’t gonna stop us!
And neither will your fences!
We walked until the cows came home then headed back down the mountain.
I’ve certainly got no cause to complain about my lot in life.
With the guys at Cheap Charlies.
I hope you agree that this post is twice as nice!

That’s it for now. Saturday night looms, the last one with a 9 o’clock curfew for a while. I guess that calls for a celebration, right?

Saving my privates

I don’t believe in censorship, even when it is self-censoring. Recently I have done some posts about certain aspects and goings-on in my life that are more sensitive than usual. And I woke up at 3:00 a.m. this morning and some voice in my head was telling me that was a mistake.

But what to do about it? In over 15 years of blogging I’ve only deleted published posts once before. That was when I got called out at work for some content that was job-related and deemed inappropriate. I didn’t like doing it then but I wasn’t willing to give up my sweet salary over some little-read post. This time the issue that was troubling my mind was the possibility of my inadvertently causing trouble in the life of someone I care about. I still didn’t want to delete those posts so I did a quick Google search to learn how to password protect posts in WordPress. It was easier than I imagined to change the privacy setting. And that’s what I did for those five or six posts I thought might prove problematic.

Did I overreact? Perhaps. But I recalled some random guy recently commenting on something I wrote in 2005. And I got an email from someone this week saying he had found my blog while doing a search on Google about the quarantine requirements in Olongapo. A few months back a guy approached me in a bar saying he had found my blog doing some random search. Then he proceeded to lambast me for continuing to hike during the lockdown because “it made all foreigners look bad”. Anyway, the point is I tend to blog as if no one is going to read what I write. I do have some friends that I know read the blog and everyone else who does are random strangers anyway. But if one of those random strangers happened to know the person I was talking about or knew that person’s friends or decided to share some of what I wrote with them it might make a mess of things in ways that I would not want to be responsible for. Hence, the password protection for those posts.

I do not intend to make this a regular practice. I will perhaps be a bit more discrete about what I write and better consider the implications of words that may cause collateral damage to innocent bystanders. And any of you who are a regular reader/commenter here can send me a message and I’ll provide you the passwords for those posts. Fair enough? Sorry for the inconvenience.

In other news, I found this photo on Facebook rather titillating:

Two will be plenty, thank you. Hmm, well, maybe four would be nice…

I’m not sure what kind of fruit or plant this might be, but damn, I want a taste:

Yummy to lick I bet!

And I will close with this:

Which may or may not be related to the posts I’ve decided to password protect.

Things will be back to normal around here tomorrow, including some photos from today’s very pleasant mountaintop hike. Stick around!

Mismanagement

Just another wet and nasty post for your reading pleasure.

Yesterday there was a Hash “mismanagement” meeting held at Hunter’s Jo Inn in Calapadayan. Jim and I hiked out there in just a little over an hour. Pretty large turnout and some contentious moments, but we got through it. We voted to keep the Hashmobile, raise the price for the Hash to 400 pesos, and our new starting time will be at 2:00 p.m. henceforth.

I had spaghetti for lunch. It was actually quite good. Biggest serving I’ve seen though. I could only eat about half of it.

After the meeting, I wasn’t feeling up to the par. No energy and a strong case of the blahs. So, I made it an early evening and came home. I had had a sore throat the night before which affected my sleep. So I took a nap for an hour and still felt like shit when I woke up. Took my temperature and I was officially feverish at 38.9. What could these symptoms mean?

Well, we had the first reported COVID case in Barretto this week. That got my imagination going!

I took some ibuprofen for the fever and gargled some saltwater with cider vinegar for the throat. This morning my fever is gone and the soreness in my throat is on my neck, including some swelling. Not sure what’s up with that but I’m feeling reassured that I’ve dodged the COVID bullet. For now anyway.

Speaking of which, the latest in a long series of “let’s fuck with people” will be implemented new week:

First it was masks. Now face shields. I guess HAZMAT suits are on the horizon.

I mentioned in an earlier post that the only way bars could reopen was if they sold food. That’s more or less what is happening, although only two that I know of are requiring you to order something to eat prior to getting your drink. Anyway, this cracked me up:

Funny how that works.

In other news, I saw this classic parked on the street yesterday:

If I’m not mistaken, that’s a 1969 Chevrolet Impala. Looking pretty damn good for 50 years old!

Oh, and I had forgotten that I took a photo at the Royal grocery store while shopping on Tuesday. Tillamook is the best ice cream available, much richer and creamier than the local brands. Definitely my favorite.

But as much as I like it I can’t bring myself to spend almost ten bucks for a half-gallon. It used to be around $8. and I’d grit my teeth and buy it anyway. I guess those days are gone.

And that’s where things stand in my neck of the woods.

The unbearable lightness of being

Ah, the adventures that come with being a blogger. I think it would be fair to call LTG a niche blog. In fact, these days I think of it almost like a diary that has been left outside for the world to see. And if my stat counter is to be believed, I average around 175 people dropping by for a read every day. A few of you even leave comments which are also much appreciated.

A while back I did a post about some victim of a bear attack. It included some graphic photos, including this one:

When I say I posted this a while back, I’m talking more than 15 years ago, in February 2005. That was just three months into my blogging career, such as it is. I certainly had no recollection of the post but was surprised to see that someone had recently commented on it:


Bullshit. I call bullshit. That first pic is a forced perspective. Something hunters and fisherman do (look it up). And the pic of the so called remains were taken with a newer HD camera, where’s as the first 2 pics were taken with something from the late 90’s / early 2000’s. The storey is bullshit, and the pics are in no way related to each other. Your an idiot to believe this work of fiction.

Thank you for the feedback, Fukh Hoffman. Maybe I’m an idiot but comments are always welcome, even if they are impolite and 15 years late. For what it’s worth, I did update the post in question noting that the story has been shown to be false. Oh, and it’s “you’re an idiot” not your.

It does just go to show that what you post on a blog is pretty much forever. I’m sure I’ve said lots of things that would get me canceled back home in the USA. Not that I care.

One of my most prolific commenters, Kevin Kim, mentioned the full moon picture I posted yesterday. Here it is again:

Kevin accurately noted that moonshots with a cellphone camera rarely capture the magnificence that can be seen with the naked eye.

I had also taken a shot of the moon in full zoom mode with my phone. It came out like this:

No better than the other one, right? A Facebook commenter did note that it appears the moon is wearing a mask in this photo. I guess that makes it timely and relevant at least.

And while we are on the topic of blogging and bloggers, one of my regular reads, Althouse, had a link to the love story between Jonas Salk and French artist Françoise Gilot:


“When Jonas proposed, she had replied, ‘A relationship would be all right, but I don’t want to get married…. Because I don’t want to live with anybody more than six months a year. That’s it. I need my own time to myself, plus I have my children.’ Jonas handed her a piece of paper. ‘Write down everything that you don’t want,’ he directed. ‘I’ll give you an hour.’ Françoise proceeded to write down those elements that would make the marriage unsuitable for her. Jonas read it over. ‘Very good. It fits my life perfectly.’ ‘But we don’t know each other,’ she cautioned, ‘and it may be disastrous because you’re a scientist, and our lives are very far apart.’ ‘No,’ Jonas countered, in what seemed more like a business transaction than a romantic moment, ‘even if we’re not so happy, at least we’ll be like a citadel; we’ll be a fortress for each other.’ Françoise thought about it. Both felt exhausted by the world and sought a refuge…. Though many could not fathom their marital arrangement, Salk and Gilot’s relationship matured as they grew to know each other better. ‘We found new discoveries all the time,’ Gilot recalled. And Salk maintained, ‘I have achieved in terms of personal relationships as much with Françoise as I could possibly fantasize.’  When asked in an interview how she had ended up with two of history’s most powerful men, Gilot replied: ‘Lions mate with lions.'”

Wow. Not really sure why, but that really resonated with me. I’ve been fucking up my love life for decades now. Maybe I just haven’t found a lion yet. Although come to think of it, one of my ex’s did say that I was a “lyin’ bastard!” Yeah, I’m the common denominator in all those failed relationships. Guilty as charged.

Speaking of the kind of women I seem to attract, Mary hasn’t thrown in the towel yet. She’s changing her tactics though. She continues to harass and borderline stalk me and last night I told her I was seeing someone else now and that I wanted to remain faithful. Here is what she had to say in a message this morning:

Baby, do you want me to be your friend with benefits? If you want I will see you because I like having sex with you. Is that okay with you? No money involved, just sex only.

I told her again I don’t want to cheat and will see how my new relationship works out.

But wow, it’s really something to have a 21-year-old woman practically begging for sex from a 65-year-old grandfather. Of course, I’m not stupid enough to believe that is her endgame. I guess this could be like a test to see just how stupid I might truly be.

In somewhat related news, I found this joke to be kinda funny:

Bada bing!

How about one more?


Sometimes when I reflect on all the beer I drink, I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn’t drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. I think, “It is better to drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver

It’s the least I can do!

Can’t wait to read the comments on this post 15 years from now!

Making my own way


“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

― Fernando Pessoa

Another day. I kinda liked the way this one started for me though.

Waking up and looking out my window as the full moon was setting over the mountains.

This is going to basically be a Hash post with a little twist. I didn’t do Günter’s (Vienna Sausage) trail having kept my vow of “never again” risking life and limb when he’s the Hare. Looking at the map of his hike though I can see there would have been no danger (other than wet feet from the rice paddy) and a single sane climb I’ve done before. Ah well, better safe than sorry I suppose.

So when I started out on my personal Hash it was just me and My Bitch.

Familiar territory but it’s been a few weeks since I’ve walked this way.
That would be me documenting my journey.

I dropped off some candy and cookies for the mountain family, then continued on my way. And lo and behold, I encountered a group of Hashers coming up from the valley below. At the time I thought maybe I had inadvertently intersected with Günter’s trail but it turns out this bunch was doing their own Hash too. I happily joined the cadre and continued on with them to our On-Home.

It’s good to have company on trail!
John and his wife are actually neighbors of mine in Alta Vista.
My favorite view from My Bitch.

Only about an hour from my house to the On-Home at Derelick’s place on Rizal Extension. With the noon start and early finish, I had too much time for beer drinking early in the afternoon. Oh well, it is a once a week indulgence I suppose.

Sitting around waiting for the Hash circle to commence.
I always enjoy the Hash virgin initiations. This gal was a real cutie too!

Things did get a little weird. My ex is a Hasher and was there as usual, although she pretty much stays away from me. I’m okay with that and we are still on friendly terms. But then I was surprised when Iline showed up. My ex (who has always been jealous of Iline) gave me a look that seemed to say “I knew it!”. Although actually Iline kept her distance from me as well. We’d talked about the need to maintain the guise of just being friends out of respect for her relationship and to avoid the Filipina love of gossip. That’s fine by me.

At the conclusion of the circle, I made my way to Sit-n-Bull for some dinner. I was pretty drunk at this point and don’t even recall what I ordered. I also don’t have a clear memory of getting home, but I did, safe and sound. Was in bed before 8 p.m. in fact.

Did my grocery shopping this morning and was pleasantly surprised to be allowed on the base without questioning. I had heard they were going back on a strict residents only lockdown. Manila went back to “enhanced quarantine” status effective today but thankfully that did not include Zambales/Olongapo. Yet anyway.

After leaving the supermarket I had my driver swing by the Harbor Pointe mall. They have a Merrill shoe store there. Alas, that store was closed. It was almost heartbreaking to see all that fine footwear on display. So close, but so far away. I guess I’ll see what I can find online, although I’m loathe to purchase shoes I haven’t tried on. Desperate times call for desperate measures I suppose.

Speaking of desperate, Mary was burning up my phone again this morning. I continue to ignore her, but now she has resorted to begging me for money because her child is hungry. That pulls at my heartstrings I admit, but I’m just not willing to open that door. I know where it leads–to the land of endless “emergencies”. Nope, not going there.

And so concludes another post.

Living in the bubble

Message in a bottle? I thought this odd bubble in my beer last night might have some metamorphic qualities. Interesting to look at and enjoy but destined to burst like a shattered dream? Well, the beer was cold and wet at least.

A somewhat interesting day yesterday. Well, by my low standards anyway. Here’s how it went down:

Things started off with a bang when Iline came to the house. I suppose that’s a double entendre, but yes we did. I had suggested we go on a shopping excursion at the mall as there were some things I needed to purchase, primarily some new hiking shoes. Iline has a driver’s license, but no vehicle. Since I was planning to do lunch as well I didn’t want to pay my driver to sit around waiting for us. So Iline borrowed a friend’s car for the afternoon. Turns out she is a relatively safe and sane driver, especially in comparison to my guy.

We arrived at the SM Central mall without incident. Well, I did have a phone call, which was surprising because my phone almost never rings. When I saw it was from Mary I didn’t answer. Iline saw who was calling as well and laughed. Then Mary sent me a message saying she was coming to Barretto and wanted to see me. I responded by telling her I wasn’t home and not to bother coming.

The first order of business at the mall was finding some lunch. I thought I remembered there being a Korean restaurant somewhere but when I finally found it on the third floor it wasn’t open. Oh well, we wound up at a place called Tokyo Tokyo and did lunch Japanese style. Nothing special (Iline had some fried shrimp thing and I did teriyaki wings) but with the social distancing measures we had a wooden divider separating us at our table. Pain in the ass. I did express to Iline that I found it odd for us to be enjoying Japanese food in the Philippines after all of the WWII atrocities. She didn’t seem to mind though.

After lunch, I spotted a Watson’s drug store and went inside in search of some of those plastic flossing/toothpick things and some eyeglass cleansing wipes. Found the floss but no wipes. Popped into an eyeglass place and then didn’t have wet wipes either, but sold me a bottle of cleansing liquid instead. At the athletic shoe store they had footwear for different sports but nothing for hiking. Besides, I don’t buy Nike products anymore.

Next stop, the SM department store. I found the socks and underwear I needed on the second floor, then went upstairs to the shoe department. I was happy to see a nice display of Merril hiking shoes. And they had a special deal going–buy two pairs and get 1000 peso discount. I picked out two different styles and asked the clerk for size 11. He disappeared into the backroom and we waited for his return. And waited. Then waited some more. For the first time in quite a while, I had to break out my mantra “deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way”. Eventually, a female clerk came back with one of the shoes I’d asked about and said they only had this in size 10. No thanks! I gave her another shoe to check and off she went. Meanwhile, the first clerk returned and also advised there were no size 11 available in the style I wanted. Same with the third pair. Ah well.

On the way back to the car we passed a store that had the Bluetooth headphones I’ve needed, so I made that purchase. Got everything except what I came for in the end. That’s life in the Philippines!

I checked my phone and saw that I had several more messages from Mary saying she was coming to Barretto and wanted to see me. I ignored them.

Iline got me home safe and sound and I invited her in. We had some small talk and I made her a strawberry-banana smoothie using the berries from Baguio I had purchased from her. The berries that in a roundabout way had brought us together. And then my phone chirped again and it was Mary saying she was at the 7/11 outside my subdivision and that she wanted me to meet her. At this point, I was starting to feel like I was being stalked. Iline asked what I was going to do and I said I was going to continue to ignore Mary. Iline said what if she comes to your house? Oh shit, she does know where I live. I needed to go out to find “mama” and give her her daily bread money. And I was also ready to quaff some brews. But I didn’t want to have a chance encounter on the street with Mary. I asked Iline to drive me to the other side of Barretto so I could start my search for mama. She agreed, and off we went.

Sure enough, as we turned onto the highway there was Mary keeping an eagle eye on the passerby. Iline said she thought she had seen us inside the car. I’m not sure, the windows are tinted but she did look in our direction. A little further up the highway I spotted mama and had Iline drop me there. After giving mama the food money, I crossed the street and went upstairs to Cheap Charlies.

As I settled in and tried to enjoy my beer I got another message from Mary. She said she was outside my house and was waiting for me to come out and talk to her. I texted back that I wasn’t home and she needed to leave. She said okay she would leave then.

I had one more beer and headed up the street. Just to be safe I popped into Mango’s and had a couple more beers. I wanted to be sure that Mary wasn’t waiting to ambush me on the way home.

The back porch at Mango’s was covered in sand. Apparently last night’s high tide had been higher than normal. Eh, it just added to the beachside drinking ambiance.

I got home before dark and with no Mary sightings. She has however been blowing up my phone this morning but I continue to ignore her.

I’ve got the Hash coming up in a couple of hours. Günter is the Hare again so I’ll be doing my own trail today. Think it’s time to enjoy My Bitch again. Or maybe I should rename the trail “Mary”.

Keep on keeping on

Highlights from the previous 24 hours, such as they are.

Did a bit of a bar crawl last evening. Started out in the newest joint in town called The Green Room. The latest addition to Dave Fisher’s empire known as The Maze. The Green Room is a bit different in that it is a sports bar format–no stage, no dancing girls. I did get a nice back massage while I was sitting there though. Also had a good chat with Dave.

Moved up the street to Hot Zone and enjoyed a couple of beers with the owner, Jay. Not busy but a couple of cuties on stage. Part of the rules allowing bars to reopen include purchasing food, so I bought some kind of meat on a stick and gave them to the girls. One other customer in the place and Jay invited him to our table. Turns out he’s the Captain of some massive yacht anchored in Subic Bay. Interesting guy.

Then I moved on down to my regular haunt, Mangos. I got there later than normal so it was dark and the beach was deserted. I ordered up a salad with chicken strips and ranch dressing. It was pretty good. A couple of beers and headed for home. It was raining so I took a trike. And thanks to the curfew, I was in bed by 9 p.m.

Early to bed and early to rise, wise or not, I was up at 4:30 and feeling healthy. Turns out Iline is also an early riser and we got to chatting. I invited her over and she agreed to come see me, telling me she would run from her place (around 2K or so). I was a little concerned about her running in the dark but she said she does it all the time. I finally convinced her to wait until 5:30 when the sun was rising. And then she arrived by trike because it had started to rain. Oh well.

So, we had some coffee and chat, I fed the dogs and she joined me when I walked Buddy (Lucky opted not to come). Iline told me about her workout routines which start with 300 jumping jacks! It reminded me a little of when I did some exercising so I dug out my elastic bands and abdomen wheel and we fooled around with that for a bit. I may be inspired to start up again although I’m never going to be in Iline’s league. That girl is fit!

The rain had quit so I took Iline on one of my regular hikes, mostly flat and around 7K. That was, of course, nothing to her but we did have some good convo and I really enjoyed having her company as we walked.

That’s the girl of my dreams! And maybe one day my dream will come true. I even came up with her Hash name…

Oh, and here’s the postmortem on Mary. We were supposed to have gotten together yesterday. In fact, she was planning to spend the night. I put a kibosh on that idea but she was persistent. Even telling me all the things she would do for me in the bedroom. I briefly toyed with the idea of fucking her hard and then fucking her over by sending her home, but it just wasn’t worth it. No point in being vindictive to the little scammer. She was back at it this morning wanting to come over, messaging and calling (which I didn’t answer). Her last message was “are you busy?”. I responded “Yes, busy moving on with my life. You should too.” That seemed to do the trick as I haven’t heard from her since.

And that my friends brings you pretty much up to date. I’m planning to go to Olongapo with Iline tomorrow for some much needed shopping. My hiking shoes are shot, my underwear needs replacing, and I could use some more socks. Exciting times here for me. No idea what the future holds but I’m in a “bring it on, bitch!” mode these days. That’s a nice change.