Another adventurous hike with the Wednesday walking group yesterday. We traveled out to Bataan, the province next door on the other side of the old Navy base. Our destination was the tower atop Mount Santa Rita.

These days the property serves as a weather observatory of some sort and is controlled by the Philippine military. We needed special permission to enter and make the hike. Our planned adventure proved to be quite popular, with over 30 folks signing up, including a contingent from Angeles City.

Alright, so what was I thinking to take on this trail barely a week after the nearly disastrous hike to Boton Falls on the old Navy base? Well, the situation was quite a bit different. I mean we were hiking up a paved road, there and back again. So there would be no getting lost, no sticker bushes, no stinging ants. I likened it to my days back in Korea when I’d make the climb up to Seoul Tower on pavement.

It turns out I was wrong about that. To begin, Mount Santa Rita is twice as high as Namsan. And the road leading up there was much steeper than I imagined it would be. It was 4.5K to the top, with the last 2K being at a 20% or so grade. It kicked my ass and there was some real question in my mind if I were going to be able to make it all the way up. In the end, pride would not let me bail before reaching the objective, but man oh man, were my lungs screaming. I’ve been struggling with uphills quite a bit lately but this prolonged ordeal felt like it was going to kill me. I’m not sure what the deal is, but I suspect my diminished lung capacity is not supplying enough oxygen to my poor old leg muscles. Anyway, I made it and I have the pictures to prove it.

But before I get to that I did have an interesting encounter on the hike. I noticed some of these alongside the road and there was something oddly familiar about them:

In the summer of 1972, I worked for the Rayolite company at their plant in Huntington Beach, California. Remembering that fact reminded me about a co-worker named Lisa I had a big crush on. I took her on one date, a Crosby, Stills, and Nash concert. Turns out she had a crush too, just not with me. Ah, well. Story of my as yet unlived life, right? In a sort of epilogue to that unrequited love about four years later I was a mailman in Anaheim and delivered to her house one day. Her mama told me Lisa had married her crush. I hope she had a happily ever after with him.

The other thought I had was that I may have actually had a hand in making those reflective markers. I mean, I’m sure they were installed back in the Navy days. And when I worked there they were a relatively new product line. So, it is possible that me and that Ray-O-Lite were together once again after all these years. Prove me wrong!

Anyway, remembering all that helped me forget my suffering a bit as I made my way up the mountain. Let’s go to the photos, shall we? (As usual, these photos are a group effort. Scott pulls them all together from several sources, cleans them up, then posts them on our Facebook page. Some are mine, but I steal them from there too.)

Well, I did it. Another monster hike and I lived to tell about it.

Here it is New Year’s Eve. Guess I’ll go out and do a bar crawl and see how long I last. I know it won’t be midnight though. But who knows, maybe I’ll fall in love with someone.

Happy New Year everyone! I’ll be back with a full report on tonight’s adventures tomorrow.

Feeling kind of bleh lately, not sure why really, and not all that unusual for a depressive personality like mine. I’m sure that it will pass in due course and I’ll be ready for some New Year blues.

It’s hard to feel sorry for yourself in this country though because so many have it so much worse, in real and tangible ways. Take Cathy, an online friend from Bohol for instance. Several years ago she and her American husband “adopted” a cousin’s baby because mama wasn’t able to take care of him. A couple of years ago Cathy’s husband died unexpectantly. Cathy struggled but managed in large part because she was motivated by her devotion to “her” son, Eithan. Well, you might have guessed what happened. This Christmas mama came for Eithan and is apparently not going to bring him back. Cathy is of course devastated and doesn’t know what to do. Last we talked she was thinking of joining a convent, whatever that means. She also asked if she could move here to work for me. I told her I don’t have any openings now. I feel for her and her sorrow at losing Eithan but I am advising her to not do anything rash.

Last night, Vel, a woman I tried out once to be my new masseuse contacted me. Seems her kid is in the hospital in Laguna (down south of Manila) and she needs money for medicine. I offered my sympathy and nothing else so far. It sounds a little sketchy, to be honest, and I’m not sure why she thinks a one time customer has some obligation to provide financial assistance for her kids. Catherine, a 25-year old I first met in Wet Spot bar, is also always besieging me for rent and food money. Like I always tell her, it is not my responsibility to pay your bills. I do give her the opportunity to provide me certain services in exchange for cash occasionally, but that’s all there’s gonna be. Same thing with Mary who keeps begging me to see her. I do feel sorry for her but so far at least I haven’t relented.

So, comparatively speaking, what do I have to be sad about?

In the good news department, I threw some decent darts relatively consistently last night. So did my partner.

Another big Wednesday walking adventure. I’ll write that up tomorrow. Now I must nap!

Less carbs with the gin drink but more alcohol content than the beer. It’s a tradeoff that I’m making in my quest to lose a few more pounds. This photo provided a bit more motivation:

Anyway, it’s another Hash Monday so I’m doing a morning post here and don’t have much to write about. I guess that is stating the obvious though. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare today so I will not be surprised if I find it necessary to shortcut his trail. I suspect he has more than one climb in mind for us, and one is about my limit these days. Our On-Home is here at the Alta Vista Community Center so I shouldn’t have any trouble finding my way back. Once again I’ll be contributing a pot of chili to our food service.

At 50 pesos a bowl I’m pretty sure I’m not breaking even. Will count how many bowls in a pot, then do the math. I think I’ll need to raise the price to at least 75 pesos ($1.50) though.

A rainy day yesterday so I wasn’t able to get out and about much. Well, wasn’t motivated to do so is probably more accurate. I’m not sure if it is cause for concern yet but I find myself increasingly forgetful. No, not as bad as Biden, but irritating to get down the road and realize I don’t have my phone, or vapes, or earbuds. Yesterday I got all the way to the highway and realized that I hadn’t brought any money, so had to turn around and march on back home to get some. I need to remember to remember to do a mental checklist before leaving the house. And yes, I repeated to remember on purpose. I thought it was kind of funny but apparently, my Grammarly app does not agree.

Oh well. I forget what I was going to say next.

Oh, and this is from the same guy who claims it was impossible for Biden to steal the election:

Time for me to prepare for my Hash ordeal. More on that tomorrow.

Speaking of head, I didn’t get any. Under relentless pressure, I almost succumbed (heh, you can’t spell succumbed without “cum”) to Mary’s entreaties for a rendevous. And then at the last minute, I bailed again. It seems my big head keeps overruling that other one. And honestly, the last experience with her was very unsatisfying and I didn’t want to waste my time and money on a gal with a hot bod who apparently doesn’t know how to use it.

I really don’t know if Mary is an actual prostitute. She denies it and I tend to believe her, if for no other reason than she sucks at the job. Er, well, I guess technically sucking is part of the job and she’s not good at that either. I’m really not that hard to please, but I need my partner to at least be able to pretend to be into me when I’m, um, into her. Mary apparently has no acting ability whatsoever. That last time we were together I thought she was going to cry. Not conducive to maintaining the illusion that a hot young woman is feeling the passion for my lovemaking skills. Ah well.

I guess this post was triggered by an article I came across this morning dealing with “Sex, Love, and Money in Cambodia: Professional Girlfriends and Transactional Relationships” looks at the intimate lives of Cambodian women and the idea of “transactional relationships.” It was written by a female professor from the USA so I was expecting the usual woke gibberish that passes for academia these days. I was pleasantly surprised to get an accurate depiction of the dynamics of this type of relationship. Although I’m no expert on the Cambodia scene, the author’s insights are spot-on for the P4P (pay for play) activities in the Philippines. It’s worth the read if you have any interest in the subject. These were some of the highlights for me:

…young women are using the tools around them, which in this case are sex and intimacy, to form relationships with foreign men as a means to improve their lives, make socioeconomic advancements, and ultimately find enjoyment in their lives. The book also sheds light on the relationships themselves that develop between Cambodian women and foreign men, which are multi-layered and complex, but often stigmatized as only ever commercial or only ever exploitative. After spending over 10 years talking to people, I found that often this is not the case, and that people are genuinely seeking true love and intimacy, and that intimacy and economics mingle in complex ways, as they do in any relationship, in Cambodia and beyond.

I made my first trip to the PI in 2008 and was quite astounded by this aspect of life here. Most of the gals I’ve met over the years are doing the best they can with the assets available to them. I see no difference between a woman who works on her back or a man who carries bricks on his back to make a living.

There were definitely active decisions being made to participate in this work and in this lifestyle. Most of the women were not controlled heavily by bosses and managers. They could make their own choices as to whether or not they would go with clients and what they would or would not do with clients. One of the main findings of the book was that most of them were not doing the kind of pre-negotiated sex-for-cash transaction that we often understand to be commercial sex work. It was more ambiguous than that. It was based in a grey area where sex, love and money were all coming together, but it wasn’t framed as commercial sex work – the women didn’t view themselves as sex workers, and the men didn’t view themselves as clients.

In all these years I’ve never met one woman in a bar who wasn’t there by choice. Well, let me clarify, never in the Philippines. I did know of some Filipinas who were brought to Korea under false pretenses and forced to work as bargirls.

Their argument is: “We don’t want to be rescued by people who think they necessarily know better than us.” What happens when they are “rescued,” is that often, they are often put into these rehabilitation programs or vocational shelters where they are taught to learn to sew and handle a sewing machine, and then placed back in a garment factory. This is not the socioeconomic decision they are making. It’s one that is being forced upon them by people who believe this is a more dignified form of work. What the sex and entertainment workers are demanding is respect for the decisions they make under very constrained circumstances. Bar work is a viable means of labor and employment for some of them—that they choose—and what they are calling for is recognition and respect for those decisions, made within the environments that they are in and among the limited options that they have.

Precisely. The hypocrisy of these NGO’s and government authorities who shut down the bars and “rescue” the working women is astounding. When the bars are gone, the women are forced into a much harder life, including being a streetwalker.

Well, anyway, it is what it is I suppose. I’m honestly not really into that scene myself but will partake on occasion. Some of the gals are real pros and know how to work you for the maximum payoff. Others, like poor Mary, don’t seem to have a clue. I guess it is really no different than any industry in that respect.

Moving on to other things.

Heh, I guess I’m going to get fucked after all!

Such as it was and such as it is.

I guess I didn’t do much that would be considered traditional, but I did hang with some friends and enjoyed some good eats. And beers. After the party, I popped into Mango’s for more beer to exchange greetings with the staff and enjoy some ocean views. I’ve got a few photos from the day’s doings to give you a taste of the revelry.

I’m trying harder these days to appreciate the life I’m living rather than wishing for something else. In that spirit, I can truthfully say that this was the best Christmas I’ve ever experienced. This year.

You’ll need to take this post with a grain of salt. Hey, it’s Christmas, cut me some slack!

The party held by the helpers at my house last night appeared to have been a success. If drunkenness and bad singing are any indications. Yeah, I consented to let them do the videoke thing so as not to come off as the Grinch. At least they asked. I kind of regretted it when I hit the hay at 9:00 and they were still going strong. But I put on my headphones and drowned them out until I fell asleep. I got up this morning and one of the guests was passed out on my living room couch. I found out later she was sleeping in a pool of her own vomit. Yuck! Well, my helpers cleaned up the mess so no biggie I suppose. Gee, aren’t I just full of the Christmas spirit?

I went into town for a few beers while the gals partied. Was surprised to see a fair number of bars closed. Cheap Charlies was open though so I popped in and had a couple. Bought some lady drinks too. Caring is sharing and all that. Actually, one of the gals I drank with was a real cutie. Found out she was 22, no kids, and a boyfriend in Switzerland. Bless her heart. On my way back home I popped into the newest place in town, Adam’s Sports Bar. The only reason I even go there is that I know the bartender from her Cheap Charlies days. Some of the girls are cute I suppose. And I did get to witness them practicing doing blow jobs.

Yeah, I know. What else is there to do though?

My driver took me shopping yesterday. I also needed to renew my visa but immigration was closed for “disinfecting”. Seems awfully convenient to do that on Christmas eve. Ah well, government employees are going to be government employees I suppose. Anyway, I was happy to see Danny taking his wife’s passing in stride. He’s probably relieved that he doesn’t have to watch her suffer anymore. He told me his son’s wife is having a baby today and he seemed comforted in that whole circle of life thing.

That’s all I’ve got this morning. Attending a party at noon out on Baloy hosted by a couple of Hash friends. I’ll be back with more tomorrow!

Merry Christmas!

Not that it matters much to me. Christmas doesn’t mean a lot without family and I’m far away from family. So tomorrow will pretty much be just another day I suppose. Well, I’ve got an invite to a party I’ll probably attend, so there’s that.

It’s interesting that this is the time of year when acquaintances (I’m talking about Filipinas here) contact you out of the blue with a hearty Christmas greeting. Followed with “where’s my gift?” At first, I thought it was a joke, but after seeing the behavior repeated numerous times I guess it is just a thing. And I’ve been here long enough now to reject such requests out of hand. Well, unless there’s some quid pro quo involved. One gal I kinda had a crush on when she worked at Cheap Charlies gave the gift solicitation greeting the other day. It had been months since I’d heard from her and there seemed to be some desperation and urgency in this request. She has two kids and no job so I imagine things are tough for her. So, instead of a gift, I offered her a part-time job. Nothing dirty, I’m honestly looking for a replacement for my departed masseuse. Of course, a willingness to provide “extra” services would earn extra pay, but that’s not required. I enjoy a regular massage just fine. Anyway, this gal rejected the offer out of hand. I guess things aren’t as desperate as they appear.

Mary, the 22-year old I met a while back but haven’t seen recently, has also been sending me messages wanting to “get together”. I resisted her entreaties because the few times I’d been with her previously were unsatisfying. Especially the last one. But last night after a few beers in a moment of weakness I messaged her that we could meet at 1 p.m. today. When I woke up this morning and saw she hadn’t responded, I breathed a sigh of relief and messaged her “nevermind”. I was surprised she took it so poorly (she told me she was crying) and reminded her that she had not bothered to confirm our appointment so I had made other plans. See? I’m getting better at this!

I guess my helpers are having some friends over tonight for some food and drinking. I’ll be making myself scarce for that event.

And that’s where things stand with me on this Christmas Eve. Here are some photos from yesterday’s hike you might enjoy (Scott took most of these):

Merry Christmas in advance! Where’s my gift?

Or both?

My driver called yesterday morning to advise his wife had just died. We were scheduled to make our weekly shopping run and he offered to find someone to send in his place. I told him not to worry about me and wished him the best during this difficult time. Danny’s wife had been ill for quite some time, getting dialysis three times a week and growing weaker and weaker. She was suffering and had no quality of life so perhaps her passing is a blessing. I know Danny is devastated. His daughter lives in Florida and she was coming to see her mother on the 28th. Now she will be here for the funeral. That’s a shame. I recall when my mom was on her deathbed she thanked me for coming home to her. I’d just made it from Korea a few days earlier.

My life goes on though, such as it is. Hiking, darting, and drinking. My health seems to be withstanding that onslaught so far. And I guess my big news is that I have once again broken the 200-pound threshold! I still want to get under 195 before I start getting lazy diet-wise. Really all I’m doing is cutting back on carbs (mostly bread and sweets) and skipping the noontime meal.

I have a singles league match this afternoon. The league seems to be going well thus far and I’m really seeing improvement in the darting skills of a lot of our players. That’s really the purpose of the league so we are off to a good start.

Gotta run, those darts ain’t gonna throw themselves.

Quite the adventure on Friday’s hike. The decision was made to motor out to SBMA (the old Navy base) and hike down to the falls. I’d never been in this area and it is mostly undeveloped and little used. The terrain was very jungle-like and overgrown. There were some HUGE trees, the likes of which I hadn’t seen since visiting Sequoia National Park many years ago. The hiking trails were not in good condition, in many places fallen trees had blocked the path. This required us to either climb over or find a way around, both of which proved easier said than done.

Anyway, the first half of the hike to the falls was quite enjoyable. I always like getting out and seeing new places. The return portion though proved to be a nightmare. Lots of ups and downs, sometimes it felt like we were going in circles. The trail was covered with low-laying vines which tended to get wrapped around your feet and trip you up. That phenomenon was exacerbated as I grew increasingly tired and started dragging my feet with more frequency. Our leaders (i.e. the guys ahead of me on trail, which is pretty much everyone) assured me we were almost there and that this was the last hill. So, I was ready to be done and pushing myself to finish with my dignity intact.

Oh, I didn’t mention the ants, did I? So, we are hiking along and one of the guys in front of me shouts “watch out for the ants!” And right at that moment, I feel several stings on my legs. I reached down to brush them off and got a bite on my hand as well. Damn, I’d never seen ants like these before. Big black ones. There are lots of red ants in the woods here and they’ll give you a good pinch now and then, but nothing like what those black bastards delivered. More like a bee sting. Hurt like hell for a few minutes but no swelling or other residual effects. Hopefully, that ant encounter will remain a once in a lifetime experience.

Apparently, the trail we were taking had been done on a Hash back in 2014. Lots had changed since then I guess. The guys who had been on that run didn’t see much that seemed familiar. And then somehow we lost the trail. It just disappeared into the underbrush I guess (again, I was following so I’m not sure of the hows or whens). We weren’t lost-lost, GPS told us the cars were parked at the top of the hill, less than a kilometer away. And so the decision was made to blaze our way to the top without the benefit of a trail. In retrospect, perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. The brush was heavy and dense. The vines and roots were especially difficult to traverse. To make matters worse, there was a fern-like plant covered in sharp thistles and thorns that would grab a hold of you and not want to let go. I received a lot of new scratches all over my legs from those bastards. Periodically we’d hit a stand of think bamboo with wall-like qualities that forced a retreat and go-around. And just when it seemed the nightmare couldn’t get any worse, it did.

The already steep climb became a cliff face. It appeared to be 10-12 feet high almost straight up. A couple of the guys started climbing up but I knew I didn’t have the upper body strength pulling myself up would require. I was dreading the thought of turning around and going back down through the sticker field, but there was no way I was going to attempt a climb like the one in front of me. Fortunately, one of the guys found a spot where we could climb up diagonally. It was not easy by any means, but it was at least doable.

And then finally we were at the top and made our way to the vehicles without further incident. Stopped into Vasco’s on base for lunch and beers then headed for home. I’d left the house at 0830 and it was almost 3 p.m. when I returned. A LONG hard day for this old man!

I’ve got some photos for you:

I didn’t get any shots of the nasty trail-less climb. I needed both hands and all my focus to survive. Sadly, my new trekking pole could not withstand the abuse it endured.

Time to get ready for today’s Candy Run Hash.

We’ve got a nice mostly flat 4K trail we’ll walk and distribute our goodies. Looking forward to the smiles.

Sorry for the sporadic posting here of late. Despite my best intentions, my normal schedule has been a bit disrupted. Unfortunately, the blog has borne the brunt of my bad timing failures. I promised a post on Friday’s jungle hike and it’s coming. Tomorrow I hope.

So if I’ve been so busy that I can’t write about life’s intrusions it must be some pretty interesting stuff, right? Well, I’ll let you be the judge of that.

Friday’s hike was long and hard. Once I got home I only had time for a quick nap, a shower, then off to the darts tourney. Finished third.

Saturday morning I walked the trail we are planning for Monday’s Hash (I’m co-Hare for that). When I got home I did a post here about some things that have been on my mind other than the usual walking and drinking shit I write about.

Then I had to prepare myself for an afternoon birthday party here in the neighborhood. By the time I got home, I was in no condition to write anything here.

Here are a few photos from the party:

The food was all great, the company and banter were fun, and I wound up having a really nice time. I guess the takeaway feeling I had was a sense of belonging. I feel at home here now. This is my life and I mostly like it.

This morning I woke up a little bit later than usual, walked the dogs, then headed out for a quick breakfast at Jewel Cafe.

After I ate, I met up with my co-Hare, Pubic Head, and we marked our trail for tomorrow’s Hash. This is our annual Candy Run and we’ll be walking the streets of Barretto handing out sweets to the kiddies. And yes, Santa has confirmed he will be joining us for the hike!

Got home, took a nap, showered up, and rushed over to Alley Cats for my Barretto Singles League dart match.

On the way home after the match, I popped into The Pub restaurant and ordered me up some Korean style chicken wings to go. Had a beer and a nice chat with the owner, John Kim.

So that’s what’s been intruding on my blogging time. I appreciate your indulgence. I’m going to do my best to get the jungle post done in the morning before the Hash.

See you then!

Thursday is one of my solitary walking days and I usually try to step it up so to speak and make it a long one. Well, long being a relative term. I’m no Kevin Kim after all.

Anyway, to change it up a little and make it a bit more interesting (for me at least) I decided that I would take a photo in 1000 step increments. Whatever I happened to see wherever I happened to be when I hit that marker. Not really difficult as depending on terrain I am pretty consistent in walking 1000 steps every ten minutes. So, it was just a matter of glancing at my watch and checking my Fitbit, then pulling out the phone and snapping a picture. Here’s how it turned out:

Yeah, I’m usually an 8K kinda guy. No mountains to climb today though made it easier to put in some extra distance. Anyway, it was kinda fun to anticipate where I’d be when it was time for the next photo op.

Best of all, I remembered how to get home!

Anyway, that’s about it from here. Oh, I don’t think I mentioned that I sold my first pot of chili. The Hasher (Preying Mantis) that always gets takeout for her husband when I make a batch for the Hash asked if I’d make a pot of chili for them. Turns out they live on a sailboat and are going to be taking a cruise this week. I guess my chili is going along to provide nourishment on the trip. I only charged her the 500 pesos it cost me for the ingredients but it’s kinda cool having people willing to pay for anything I cook.

See, I found an opportunity to share a gratuitous photo of the female Hashers (Gash) at their Christmas party. You’re welcome.

One of my old smartass putdowns when arguing was that “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know”. I fear that it may actually be coming true, at least the forgetting part. It goes beyond mere absent-mindedness; today I walked out for my hike and forgot to put on my hat. To make that failure even worse, I had gone upstairs earlier for the specific purpose of getting the ballcap I’d forgotten earlier. Took a pee and forgot the hat again.

But what really bothers me is the parts of my life that are just fading away. Last night laying in bed and waiting for sleep to overtake me I started thinking back to my youth on Milton Avenue in Westminster, California. Heh, I remember my address (13892) but what about the friends I grew up with? I remembered some of them, like Rod McClanahan and Darrol McCue who lived on my street. There were other buddies too that I can vaguely recall but some have fallen into a black hole. I remember I drove a friend’s sports car through a brick wall. Yeah, I was high or drunk. Or both.

There were a lot of empty spots like that in my memory and I found it disconcerting. So it was rather surprising when I got a message from my high school buddy Rod Headlee this morning:

Do you remember who the members of the Ringwraiths softball team were the year we won the championship game two to one?

Are you kidding me? That would have been 1974 and I honestly hadn’t thought of those guys since the turn of the century. [UPDATE: 2010 anyway] Coincidentally, some of the names would have been the same ones I couldn’t remember from the night before. I remembered playing softball of course and our team name but had no recollection of our championship season.

Now, Rod and I are Facebook friends. But his message this morning was the first time I’d heard from him in three years. Last time I saw Rod and his wife Pat was back on New Year’s Day in 2012 on his sailboat in North Carolina. Yep, they live on the boat most of the time and travel the world from their West Coast base. Not bad for a guy who’s a couple of years older than me. Anyway, his message today out of the blue took me aback. And after I confessed I couldn’t really remember more than a couple of the players, I asked how he was doing. He responded that he had some plumbing to do and would get back to me later. Maybe another three years?

And as if to underscore the point I’m attempting to make with this post (and which I might have forgotten by now) I did a quick search of my blog archives and found this post from 2010 featuring this photograph:

So, I don’t know whether I should feel good about remembering some more names after seeing the photo or not. The “Dutch” guy was my pot supplier and my first wife’s ex-boyfriend. It’s scary to me though that I don’t recall my old post or the fact that we were league champions.

Rod also reminded me that we attended a massive outdoor rock concert that year called California Jam.

Oh well, this has been an interesting trip (and fall) down memory lane. At least for me. I forgot I’m writing for an audience that probably gave up on this post after the first paragraph. If you are still here, thank you for your indulgence!

As bad as I may be, at least I’m not China’s bitch.

Now if I could only figure out how to lose the bad memories.

A quick report on the birthday celebration I had the pleasure to attend yesterday, then I’m off to another Hash Monday.

A pleasant and uneventful trip out to San Antonio. It’s actually a pretty small town, nice enough I suppose but I think I’d be bored there. Close to the beaches but not conveniently close. Anyway, it’s where our host has chosen to live and my oh my, he is living large. One of the biggest houses I’ve visited and quite luxurious. Just him and the wife so I guess they have the room to avoid each other should they ever feel the need.

Anyway, the party was quite nice with plenty of food, snacks, sweets, and of course, beer. Lechon, a traditional Filipino favorite, was the featured meat selection. Plenty of other tasty side dishes for any Muslims in attendance. There appeared to be fifty or so people gathered but the only ones I knew were the host and the folks I brought with me. After a couple of hours, the karaoke machine was fired up and I was compelled to do my traditional rendition of “I started a joke”. I received a polite round of applause when I finished but perhaps significantly, was not asked to do an encore performance. Suits me!

Here are some photos:

A good afternoon of something a little different. It was fun.

I came across another Charles Bukowski quote this morning:

Anyway, I’ve got other things I can think about. Like how fucked up will the trail be this week. Stay tuned!

A morning post today necessitated by my taking a trip out to San Antonio in a bit. No, not the one in Texas, the original one right here in Zambales.

And why am I making this journey? Because I got invited to a birthday party. For someone I’ve never even met.

Gary (Flaming Asshole), a fellow Hasher, extended the invite to the event being held at his residence. Several of us are coming out from Barretto to crash the party. I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun. Or get drunk trying! No worries, I’m having my driver take us so we won’t be breaking any laws. Full report tomorrow.

Last night saw me take third place at the darts tourney. A little disappointing in that my partner is one of the top players here but we both just couldn’t put it together for some reason. Well, that’s darts I suppose.

After darts, I popped into Mango’s. Was quite surprised at my reception after having been gone a week. The manager greeted me at the door and said she had been concerned about me. The bartender/waitress was practically ecstatic that I was back. Ah, nothing like a hero’s welcome to make you feel special. I ordered up my favorite dish–grilled pork chops. After eating, the cook came out to say hello too. I complimented the meal and said his chops were much better than the ones I got next door at Palm Tree. Oops, let the cat out of the bag. Oh well. Actually, I did tell the manager that the view had been the draw for me and the floating island had destroyed that. Nothing she can do about it of course.

Woke up to another fine morning.

Now it’s time to shower up and get ready for my journey. Let me leave you with a bit of political talk concerning our incoming President, aka China’s bitch.

Alright, that’s enough of this nonsense. Thanks for dropping by!