If you see anything here other than a lamp all I can say is: I like the way you think!
And as long as your dirty mind is thinking of muffins, how about these sweet things:
Blueberry muffins for breakfast with leftover baby back ribs from dinner last night.
I was sticking it pretty well yesterday during my singles league dart match.
Mark is actually a solid player and the games themselves were much closer than the scoresheet might seem to indicate.
And here is how things stand after Week 8 in the Barretto Singles League:
Yeah, it feels like I’m starting to recapture some of the magic of those glory days in Itaewon…In fact, I wore my Seoul Singles League shirt during yesterday’s match hoping to play like I used to. Not there yet, but getting closer.
It was kinda funny, John Kim the owner of The Pub restaurant here, saw this photo on my Facebook page and commented: “Sea elephant? Seriously?”. I explained that back in those days my darts nickname was The Walrus. According to the Koreans I consulted, there is no word for Walrus in Korean, they just use bada kokkili . It’s all good.
After darts, I had a couple more beers at Mangos and enjoyed the sunset:
Lots of folks hanging out on the beach. Little by little, we are getting our lives back.
While I was at Mangos I got a message that my office chair was being delivered but no one was at home to receive it. She attached this picture which made me smile:
Lucky defending the house. Looks like he means business!
I was a little pissed because I had asked my helper if she would be home to accept delivery and pay for the chair and she assured me she would be there. She told me later she stuck around until 6:00 and then figured they weren’t coming. Anyway, I told the seller to just leave the chair on my porch and to swing by Mangos to pick up the payment. She agreed and I added a tip for her trouble.
So here’s my new chair. Ain’t she a beaut?
It’s actually a “gaming” chair if that makes a difference. Well, it does have two speakers alongside the headrest if you want sounds effects blasting in your ears. I don’t. Anyway, it is much more comfortable than what I had been using and should provide better back support.
My back is pretty much back to normal now. A little stiff but almost completely pain-free. I guess since I’m technically elderly now I should be especially thankful for that. I’m also very happy that I’m able to get out and hike every day. That fills my hours in a healthy way.
Speaking of hiking, I need to get ready for today’s Hash. This is the last week of the noon start time, we’ll move it to 2:30 after that. There’s an odd combination of trails today, 3, 6, and 9K. If I’m understanding correctly, the 9K is a combination of the 3 and 6K trails. The 3 and 6K require a truck ride, so as of now my intention is to do the 9K. I hate that truck!
I’m not afraid of love. Just like I’m not afraid of poison. I avoid both, because love is poison to me.
As I keep reminding myself. Actually, I’m doing better at embracing my loveless life. Some of the guys who are in relationships have even expressed some envy for my relatively drama-free life.
This is about as real as it gets around here I suppose. But I think sometimes it’s all a matter of perspective. On my morning walk today I passed by an old woman rocking on her porch. That was probably the best part of her day. It made me realize my life is maybe not as boring as I make it out to be. Later in my walk, I saw a foreigner out in front of his local-style hovel. He was also on crutches and when I looked closer I saw that he’d had a leg amputated at the knee. So here he is living a poor life amongst poor people and doing it with a significant handicap. Damn. Next time I complain about my lot in life will someone please slap me upside the head? Thanks!
I was back at Alley Cats last night for the darts tourney. One of the new girls there, Jez I think her name is, has taken an interest in the game. I’ve noticed when she is not busy with customers she practices throwing. And during the tourneys, I’ve seen her watching the games intently appearing to want to learn how to improve. So last night I paid her entry fee so she could participate in the tournament. The best way to get better is to play in a competitive environment. And in the category of no good deed goes unpunished, I drew her as a partner. Well, I don’t mean that in a serious way. Sometimes you get a skilled partner, sometimes you get someone inexperienced. I think the better players owe it to the beginners to be patient and helpful. So, I did my best to provide some coaching along the way. It was no surprise we didn’t make it to the money round, but we did win a couple of matches. Jez had some good throws but needs to work on consistency. Don’t we all.
I’ve got a singles league match scheduled this afternoon and hopefully, I’ll play well enough to win. I will report on that tomorrow.
And then there is Mary. I thought I’d rid myself of her “with a bang”. Well, Thursday she shows up at my house unannounced. That pissed me off and I told her how rude and unacceptable I found her behavior. I asked why she wasn’t in Manila and she told me she was leaving Friday and “wanted to see me” before she left. I wished her good luck and sent her away. Then yesterday she sends me a message saying she wants to see me. I’m like WTF? She’s supposed to be in Manila. I responded, “Sorry, I’m busy”. And then this morning my phone is blowing up with messages and calls. I never answer her calls, but the messages said “help me, I’m hungry”. According to Mary, she is in Manila now but someone stole all her money while she was riding in the Jeepney. She begged and pleaded with me to help her.
Well, I wasn’t born yesterday and this sure did smell like a scam. I told her to send me a picture from Manila. She sent something that was inside some type of non-descript shop. I said that’s not Manila. Then she sent a photo of people standing on the street. Except it looked posed and taken professionally. Well, I’m a soft touch I guess. I sent her $25 via Western Union and told her to never contact me again.
And oh, I had to have the name on her ID to wire her money. She’s not Mary. She’s not Mae (a Facebook name she used in the past with me). She’s not Baliwag Kamo, the name she is using on Facebook now. Turns out her real name is Ruhama Alcober. Anyway, once she picked up the money she deleted all of her begging messages. So yeah, I’m totally convinced now that she is just another lying scammer. I’ve blocked her on Facebook and Messenger now. Good riddance!
Alright, let’s move on to something more pleasant, shall we? About that morning stroll today, I did the every 1000 step photo thing again. So here you go:
1000 steps. National highway entering Subic…2000 steps. A squatter village.3000 steps. Where there is smoke there is fire.4000 steps. Poor village, rich views.5000 steps. GOVIC highway.6000 steps. Easter mountain looms large.7000 steps. The straight and narrow.8000 steps. It really gets my goat when there is nothing interesting to photograph at the appointed step count.9000 steps. The wide-open spaces beckon.10,000 steps. Swallowed by the tall grass…11,000 steps. The outskirts of civilization.12,000 steps. The final climb begins.13,000 steps. An Alta Vista view.And then home again. I have a new office chair being delivered today.One of the Facebook commenters said I looked like Tom Selleck in the selfie posted above. I told him not anymore but I used to hear that all the time. That’s me at 25 years old.
And finally, via Facebook memories, I’m reminded that I was also doing important shit three years ago.
If meeting with the Secretary of the Army is important. Honestly, I enjoyed today’s walk more.
And the road goes ever onward until the ultimate dead end. Hopefully, I will still be around tomorrow!
When I have ceased to break my wings Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I have looked Life in the eyes, Grown calm and very coldly wise, Life will have given me the Truth, And taken in exchange–my youth. –Sara Teasdale
Greetings faithful readers! Sorry for not posting yesterday, but the time just got away from me. Here’s a recap:
As usual, I was up before 5 a.m. That’s when I do my daily slog through my blogroll catching up on the news and views from voices I trust. This has gotten to be quite the chore of late because the news from my homeland is depressingly bad. It made me sick that the voters chose a senile old fool over a competent yet clownish incumbent. That the election was apparently rife with fraud is downright scary and demonstrates that the swamp creatures have no intention of letting the people have their say. So much for democracy. The icing on the shit cake was the Georgia Senate results. Just thinking about the adverse impact Dem control of Congress and the Presidency will have on our nation’s future is the stuff of nightmares. Bottom line–we are screwed. I’m thankful that I’m so far away and don’t have to experience this fiasco up close and personal. I do expect a wrecked economy will cause the dollar to lose exchange value making me a poorer man. I probably won’t live long enough to experience the worst of what is in store for my homeland.
But life, such as it is, goes on. Did my morning routines, fed and walked the dogs, then met up with my Friday walking group. We did a pleasant mostly urban and flat 8K hike. Finished at my house where I treated the guys to a lunch of beers, chicken nuggets, calamari rings, with chips and dip.
When we were done with that I barely had time for a shower before heading out to Queen Victoria for a Hash mismanagement meeting. The agenda included appointing folks to positions of responsibility. Demolition Derby was unanimously chosen to continue serving as Grand Master. I was selected to be the Circle Jerk Master. That’s basically a Sergeant-at-Arms type role, mainly helping to maintain order in the Hash circle by telling people to shut up and pay attention. Seems like my being an asshole made me qualified for the job.
There’s been a bit of controversy at the Hash from a few disgruntled members not satisfied with the way things are being run. Boo fucking hoo is my attitude towards these whiners who were still hiding in their basement afraid of COVID while the rest of us worked to resurrect the Hash under difficult circumstances. So I don’t give a shit if they don’t like the decisions we made to make that happen. We raised the entry prices and now the Gash (females) pay the same amount as men. Well, so what? Most of them drink as much as the men do too. We also changed the start time because of an early curfew. The disgruntled few wanted a return to the traditional 3:30 start. I was opposed to this because I think the earlier start works better. It’s no fun to still be up on the mountain when the sun is starting to set. Anyway, we voted to implement a compromise start time of 2:30 p.m. We’ll see how that works out.
Had a few beers during the meeting, then moved over to Alley Cats to play in the dart tournament. Of course, I was early so I had some more beer while waiting to play. And then of course I drank while playing (I call it aiming fluid). It was a good tourney and I was satisfied with my play overall even though my partner and I lost a tough match in the finals and settled for second place.
Needless to say, I was feeling no pain when I got back home last night. But today is a brand new start, right? Stopped at a hotel called Papagayo for breakfast. I was last there years ago for a dinner so wasn’t sure what to expect. I thought the menu was a little limited in offerings, but the service was good. And nice views from my table as well.
My view during breakfast…A view of my breakfast. Well, what’s left of it.
Here are the photos from yesterday’s hike. These are mostly from Scott:
One climb, mostly steps. A loop around Black Rock mountain and ending up in Alta Vista.My fellow hikers for the morning, Dan, Troy, and Scott.Up we go!As usual, Troy is waiting for us oldsters to catch up.Working on it…I hope daddy shared those cookies with the kids…Getting back to my roots…Coming to Jesus who was hanging around…We decided to cross this field…looks easy enough…And there was kinda sorta a path. Until there wasn’t. And then it got wet.Our shoes all came out looking like this…This kind woman graciously helped us rinse the mud off……couldn’t get her little girl to smile though. I guess she was expecting Oreo’s…Back on solid ground with cleaner feet…I don’t want to romanticize litter, but this seemed kind of sweet to me…The best view of the day.
All right, I do try and avoid politics on social media. Nothing to be gained from it. But I couldn’t help sharing this meme pointing out the hypocrisy of the left regarding “protests”:
And of course, it caused liberal heads to explode.
Here’s an example from ex-wife #3:
You don’t know the difference between protests and insurrection? Well the former seeks change(s) in the law. The latter seeks to change the government.
To which I responded:
Yes, I know the difference. Do you know the difference between protests and riots? Do you know the meaning of the word hypocrisy? Where was your outrage when the Federal courthouse in Portland was being attacked? Where were your posts decrying the violence and destruction in Minneapolis, Seattle, and other cities last year? Make no mistake, I am equally disgusted by what happened at the Capitol this week. Once you engage in violent criminal activities in support of your cause, whatever that cause may be, you are no longer a protester. Rioters on the left or right are no different and are unworthy of support or sympathy if we are to remain a nation of laws. This post merely pointed out that people like you encouraged the rioters through silence and now are suddenly appalled by the same tactics being used by people you don’t agree with. Disgusting.
And of course, the ex immediately saw how wrong she had been and is now a committed Republican. Well, actually she doubled down, proving my point that these arguments or not going to ever lead to a meeting of the minds. Another commenter did chime in with this in response to the whole “insurrection” argument:
The right to overthrow the government is a right of the people. As of late, some people may feel that it is a course that needs to be taken. A fair bit of the population feels disenfranchised.
Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. -Declaration of Independence, July 4th 1776
Hard to argue with that, so I’ll just leave it there.
Let’s cleanse the palate with this:
It snot bad. I need to order one!
Alright, one more for the road:
Best I stay single, for a lot of reasons…
More darts on tap for tonight. I’m starting to feel at least some of my game is coming back. I wore my old Columbia Singles League jersey for my Barretto Singles League match this week and came away with a 12-4 victory.
Reliving the good old days. Such as they were.
Okay, this post may not be twice as good as usual, but it is twice as long. Hope that makes up for yesterday’s absence.
I’ll be back with more of something or other tomorrow.
UPDATE: I was surprised to see I used the “Mourning in America” title once before, back in September 2010. That post consisted of a link to this one-minute long anti-Obama commercial. I said back then that it made me almost dread my decision to move back to the USA. Well, maybe we’ll get through this too.
A challenging hike yesterday was made all the more difficult when we missed the intended trail, but it all worked out in the end. You might say we were blessed to find our way through a hellish landscape and received our reward of heavenly views from above. Or maybe that is so convoluted and strained that only I would say it. I’ll shut up and let the pictures talk, how’s that?
The way we went. Actually, the starting point was at the Ocean View resort in Kalaklan and I walked there adding another 3K to my hike.Although I had been up on this mountain before, the ascent we chose was new to me.Could this be the proverbial stairway to heaven?Sweet mother of Jesus, who is that? Oh, wait, sorry Mary. I guess I just answered my own question.Jesus Christo! What are you doing here?No one volunteers to be crucified though.
This was also a dead end. We went in search of our intended path, found a likely contender, and then we struggled and suffered for our arrogance. It was steep and rugged and the footing was poor. A bad combination. A couple of falls but no injuries. Praise the Lord!
Fighting to keep your feet is not conducive to photography, but there were several spots where a helping hand saved the day.Hallelujah! I made it to the top!The survivors.There are worse places than Olongapo, but that doesn’t stop me from looking down on it.As seen by the angels.Time to make our way down. And we didn’t lose the trail either…Heading for the blue waters of Subic Bay.And handing out cookies along the way.And keeping with our theme of righteousness, that would be Easter mountain rising up in the distance.If you say so, Gina…And that concludes this religious post.
At least, that’s what it felt like. Bending over to pick up my shorts yesterday morning and felt this sharp pain in my lower back. Not sure what I did or what I injured, but damn, it periodically hurts like a motherfucker. Never experienced anything quite like it. I’m stiff when I first stand up, but after I walk a bit I’m practically pain-free. That’s a good thing. But last night when I was trying to sleep I’d suffer immense pain whenever I rolled over to the left. Same stabbing pain when I tried to get up to pee. It seems marginally better today so I’m hoping whatever this is is running its course. We’ll see.
Changed things up a bit yesterday and started my evening out on Baloy beach. Visited my old-time favorite Treasure Island first. I was disappointed that they didn’t have my preferred beer and frankly the service was sloppy and unfriendly. I decided to eat elsewhere. I also noticed that all my old favorites on staff are now gone. Oh well. I went next door to Da Kudos instead.
Da Kudos is owned by Mango’s and I actually knew my waitress. The menu was also the same as Mango’s, so I ordered up the roast chicken salad. It didn’t disappoint. And neither did the view from my table:
Not bad, eh?
After my meal, I walked out on the beach and this is what I saw:
I may be living a lonely life, but at least I’m living it in paradise.
I guess I got to thinking about that being alone thing. And after a few beers I posted this question on Facebook:
Am I an asshole?
That’s probably not the kind of question that is best posed on social media. But I was just curious why a guy like me found himself dining and drinking alone. Maybe I am an asshole or something similar that people prefer to avoid. The responses to my question came in about 50-50, so maybe there’s hope. I did have to laugh at this response from ex-wife #3:
Well you use to revel in your self-identification as an dick. You were delighted when the Team America movie made an argument for dicks, saying pussies needed them for protection against assholes. So no you are not an asshole. You’re a dick.
Heh. Here’s the clip she was referring to:
Damn, that being drunk in the bar fits too!
My pal Jeremy offered up probably the most thoughtful and heartfelt comment:
John, if you’re not making your intentions known, then all that people are going to see is that youre just the nice old guy. How will anyone expect that you’re looking for something more if you’re not telling them that you’re looking for something more?
Also, dont be the nice, generous guy to everyone. That should be reserved for the people that have a special place in your heart. The rest of the people should be content with friendly, easygoing John. Then, people will take notice of your intentions, and only when that happens will there be the possibility of reciprocation.
Though, before any of that happens, you have to decide if you’re going to buy a ticket. Sure, you’re going to have a lot of losing tickets, but when you hit the jackpot, it’ll all have been worth it. I mean, that’s what my Dad tells me about he lottery, anyway, but I dont think those are his views on love after fifty years of marriage, especially when considering my mom.
You’re a smart guy, John. Not only do you have to periodically examine yourself, but you must always examine the company that you keep. I hope that it works out the way that you want according to whichever way you decide.
Hmm, I’ve heard that advice about changing the company I keep somewhere before. That’s probably the bottom line; if I am indeed an asshole I need to find an asshole-lover to share my life. And until I do I’m better off alone, whether I like it or not.
Anyway, I’ll be alright. It’s my nature to never be satisfied with what I have until it’s gone. Might be time to just suck it up and embrace things as they are and stop lamenting my missed opportunities. Scary that a man my age is still trying to figure that out.
As long as we are peripherally talking about my indiscretions on Facebook, this might be pertinent:
That cracked me up.
And as a victim of the Facebook “fact-check” process, I liked this one too:
Ain’t it the truth?
Ah well, enough of this nonsense. I’m going to head out for another night of drinking alone. Hey, it’s what I do!
Well, turns out I made the right call in deciding NOT to do the Hare’s trail at yesterday’s Hash. My group did a hike of similar length but reached our On-Home destination almost an hour earlier than most and a couple of hours before the last of the Hashers arrived. There seemed to be a consensus that both the climb and the downhill were extreme. Granted, some folks like that kind of challenge. I am not among them.
During the after-party at BarCelona, Guenter chided me for not having attempted his trail. I shrugged it off saying I’m a free man and I go where I please. Another Hasher who did the trail chimed in and said it was not an appropriate trail for someone as notoriously slow as I am. Thanks, I think.
The yellow line is the trail as set by the Hares. The green line is the faux trail my group did. Our trails did join together for the last half kilometer though. You can probably discern the difference in our climbs, both in elevation and duration, from this photo.My group left from Alta Vista…On-On!And onward.Are you ready for this climb?Let’s do it!Our climb was easier but still plenty challenging…Well, lookee here, we’ve found the trail laid by the Hares…Good job, Hashers! Our On-Home was at Derelick’s house on Rizal Extension. He’s in poor health and wasn’t able to join us. I went inside and said hello and he really didn’t look good. Get well soon!Paying the piper…The Hares, Vienna Sausage and Fuck A Duck, on ice. Right where they belong!The initiation ritual for two virgin Hashers…Leech My Nuggets helps his girl, Leech My Pussy, celebrate 69 Hash runs…Oh, Peniscolada is having a birthday? Ain’t that sweet?Looks like the Gash gals want to make her a cake!And so they did.Captain Prickhard got the Hashit…
Once the Hash circle activities were completed I made my way to Sit-n-Bull for some nourishment.
The French dip sandwich hit the spot…
Then it was up to the rooftop of BarCelona for an after-Hash party.
A lot of Hashers had gone across the street to Cheap Charlies. They soon saw the error of their ways and joined us.Watching the sunset behind the now-defunct Central Park Reef hotel. What a waste!This post is NOT fake. It’s from the real trail. So there!
Welcome to the first Hash Monday early morning post of 2021! And for the first time this year I’ve got even less to report than usual. That won’t stop me though!
Speaking of the Hash, I won’t be doing the trail today. It begins with an uncomfortable ride in the Hashmobile and involves a climb up a mountain in an unfamiliar area. And oh yeah, Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare. Nope, not taking my chances! Several other like-minded folks will be joining me on a more safe and sane alternative trail.
What else is going on? Hmm, well I do get a weekly report on visitors here at LTG. Here’s a sample from the past week:
The green bar is page views, the blue unique visits, and the orange first time visits. I’m no statistician, but the fact that my numbers are pretty constant must mean that the first time visitors are mostly final time visitors as well.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the numbers matter to me. When I first started the blog my intent was to use it as a vehicle to keep family and friends back home up to date on the happenings in my life. These days I rarely if ever hear from most of my family. I won’t deny that it hurts to be ghosted but I do appreciate the honesty–at least they aren’t pretending to care.
I also used to be a lot more political here but I eventually came to understand that others were making the same arguments better than I can and more importantly, no one’s mind was likely to be changed by anything I posted on my humble blog. So now LTG has devolved into what resembles a personal diary. I don’t even link to it from my other social media accounts–there’s a kind of freedom in writing what is unlikely to ever be read. Of course, I do have my core readers and commenters and I always appreciate the feedback and advice they provide. So, I am humbled and honored if a hundred people or so a day pop in for peek at my so-called life. I hope to prove the old adage that no man is totally worthless–he can always serve as a bad example!
Speaking of blogs and bloggers, the Big Hominid is a daily read for me. Always something interesting going on over there. Today he shared a collection of memes and this one brought back a twisted memory for me:
Jan-Michael Vincent is the only celebrity I’ve ever met in an up close and personal way. I wrote about that encounter here.
I don’t do drugs these days of course. How does that old saw go? I couldn’t kick drugs until I became an alcoholic. Or something like that. Of course, drinking brings it’s own kind of dangers, especially here in the Philippines.
Across that ramshackle plywood bridge lies the entrance to my darts bar, Alley Cats.
They’ve been working on the new drainage canal here in Barretto for going on two years now. The safety of residents and passersby must not be in the contract. There is an even more rickety crossing to get into Cheap Charlies. Of course, leaving after several beers is the REAL dangerous part. Oh well, we’ve all got to die of something I suppose. Being impaled on rebar in a ditch is at least a rather unique way to go.
And now for an update on my love life: I ain’t got one. But two of my futile attempts in 2020 still come to mind on occasion. Arlene likes to post about her new love on Facebook. Nothing wrong with that of course. But today she posted a picture that made me go “hmm”. She was very excited about “her” new house. The photo looked a lot like the one she had shown me that her now ex-boyfriend in Canada was having built. And since foreigners can’t own property here, it was being purchased in Arlene’s name. Even after she had professed her love for me, she wouldn’t end it with the Canadian because of the house. Now, I don’t know the current circumstances and it’s none of my business. Maybe the new boyfriend stepped up and bought the house for her. Or maybe she just did what a lot of Filipinas have been known to do–my name, my house. As stupid as I was for falling in love with someone who wouldn’t end an existing relationship, I’d have to say I’m one lucky bastard!
And then there’s Jessa. I mentioned sharing some drinks with her on New Year’s Eve. During our conversation that night she told me her daughter’s birthday was coming on January 6. She was hoping to find a location to have a pool party for her. I mentioned the Alta Vista community center would be a nice venue and promised to check on its availability. I did and it is. I’m even going to pay for it as a birthday gift. Jessa seemed pleasantly surprised. She’s a nice woman and I did and do care for her. When we were dating she also had an overseas boyfriend. But unlike Arlene, she did choose to end that relationship of her own volition. The problem was she expected me to become the new him. I wanted to continue dating and see how I felt before making a commitment. That was unacceptable to her and she ended it then and there. At least I guess we are still friends of a sort, so there’s that.
Words I will carry with me in 2021. Actually, I’m unlikely to need them because I’m still firmly in the “done with love” mode.
And one last tidbit of an update. Mary came by the house. It seems she has taken some sort of job in Manila. And of course, she needed transportation and rent money to get started. She was willing to earn it and to her credit, her performance was much improved since our last hookup. I still, however, have no interest in seeing her again. Helping her to get to Manila ensures she won’t be showing up on my doorstep anytime soon. I hope.
Alright, well this turned out to be a whole lot of nothin’, didn’t it? I’ll try to do better in the future. Call it a resolution!
I hadn’t picked up the arrows since last year but I had a singles league match to play. So I gathered up my gear, donned an old darts shirt from my glory days in Seoul, and headed out to Alley Cats.
The league format is 5 legs (games) of 501, 5 legs of cricket, and 5 legs of 301 DIDO (double in/double out). It generally takes around an hour and a half to play a match. My opponent for the afternoon was John from Wales. A nice guy and fellow Hasher but he’s been struggling with his dart game lately. This was our result:
Yeah, it was a bit of an ass-kicking. Er, maybe more than a bit.
I like to win but just as importantly, I like to throw well when I win. And the number of marks I managed (as recorded on the bottom of the scoresheet) indicates I was throwing stronger and more consistently than I normally do. I could have played even better, I actually had several chances to win both of the legs I lost but couldn’t hit the out. Still, I was satisfied with my performance overall.
Here’s how things stand in the Barretto Singles League after 7 weeks of play:
I normally don’t stay for the tourney after drinking beer battling through 15 legs of darts, but the tourney director needed another player and I didn’t really have anything better to do, so I signed up and had the good fortune to draw Espie as a partner. My performance in this event was not as consistent as I would like, but I did manage this:
The rare for me, and most amateurs, ton-80. It’s the highest possible score (three triple 20s equals 180 points). I might hit three or four of them a year.
Espie and I went undefeated in the winner’s bracket to take the tourney championship.
That’s my old Seoul International Dart League jersey bringing those good ol’ days back to life! It’s a little big on me now though.
After darts, I rewarded myself with a pork chop dinner at Mango’s.
Damn, it was good!
And so is life in 2021. So far at least.
Unrelated to this post but I thought it was funny…
“Human beings are remarkable – at what we can learn to live with. If we couldn’t get strong from what we lose, and what we miss, and what we want and can’t have, then we couldn’t ever get strong enough, could we? What else makes us strong?” –John Irving
So much for the first day of the rest of my life, or at least 2021. Felt like shit most of the day and other than a 7K walk around Castillejos I didn’t do shit either.
Ten years ago I retired and moved to Columbia, South Carolina to start a new life. Regular readers know how that turned out. Let’s just say it didn’t end well. Then again, it led me to this moment in time so perhaps it was destiny.
Three years ago I completed my first ever Hash run and got initiated into the Kennel.
Fixin’ to lose my virginity. The gal to my left, Gem, turned out to be a scammer. Big disappointment for sure. I hope she enjoys the Karma I paid for…Drink it down, down, down, down! As we say at the Hash, the beer-guzzling ritual is just like a blowjob because what doesn’t go in you, goes on you!
Speaking of the Hash, Scott (Pubic Head) did a photo collage of me doing my candy and cookies thing:
It’s a small thing that gives me big pleasure, as selfish as that sounds.
Speaking of Scott, he took a couple of photos on our hike yesterday morning:
I was moving slower than usual. Way too much beer and not enough sleep the night before will do that I suppose.At least I’m not this guy. Yet.This is the house of former President of the Philippines, Ramon Magsaysay. It’s a museum now. It inspired me to read his story and it is really quite interesting.
And as long as we are taking a historical detour, I bet you didn’t know that Texas was once called New Philippines. I sure didn’t. It’s good to learn something new, especially when you are an old dog like me.
Speaking of something new, I made meatballs in the slow cooker yesterday. Nothing new about that, but I tried a different recipe. Instead of cooking them in a spaghetti sauce base, I used barbeque sauce and, wait for it, grape jelly. I read about that somewhere online and thought to myself “no way”, but on a whim, I figured why not try it?
How they looked in the pot……and in my bowl.
I feared they were going to come out sickly sweet but that was not the case. They had an unusual tangy flavor but it wasn’t an unpleasant taste. I think I prefer the traditional tomato sauce but might go this route occasionally just to change things up some.
Late in the afternoon, I had Vels come by to give me a massage. It was the second time I’ve used her. She does a really nice job and gives a thorough two-hour rubdown. Well, she did miss a spot. She’s an older woman, mid to late 40s I reckon, but not unattractive. She ignored my hints about a happy ending and I didn’t press the issue. I did feel better physically when she finished the massage, so there’s that.
It was after six when Vels left and I decided to fuck off and stay home. I think that’s the first time in just about forever that I voluntarily didn’t go out for some evening beers. Now that I think about it, I haven’t had a beer since last year!
Alright then, let’s see what’s coming next!
I can’t walk through life facing backwards I have tried I tried more than once to just make sure And I was denied the future I’d been searching for But I spun around and hurt no more By living in the moment Living my life Easy and breezy With peace in my mind With peace in my heart Got peace in my soul Wherever I’m going, I’m already home
Not gonna miss that bitch 2020! I did make the best of the final day of that ill-fated year. Had a pleasant breakfast at a place I rarely visit–Harley’s.
It’s one of the first hotels you come to as you walk down Baloy beach road.The view from my table…And another view…Seeing as how it was the end of the year I decided I deserved to splurge on the carbs. I ordered up the Swedish pancakes. They are like regular flapjacks except super thin. They are served folded in half, I guess to give them some substance. Tasted fine though.
As a New Year’s Eve treat, I decided to document my daily walk using the “every 1000 steps, snap a photo” technique. Here’s how that came out:
It started with a morning time full moon…Nothing really interesting to see at 1000 steps so I took this shot.I’m still in Alta Vista at 2000 steps (walking the dogs) and this dwelling was the best photo op. It’s a bit of an aberration given its ramshackle appearance in a neighborhood full of McMansion-type houses. I’m guessing it predates the subdivision and somehow survived. Until a couple of months ago one of the security guards lived there with his family. Vacant now though. Maybe I should become a squatter?On my way to breakfast when I hit 3000 steps in front of the squatter village right outside the main gate of Alta Vista.The best I could find at 4000 steps was this palm tree on Baloy road near Harley’s.That’s the ass side of my shack at 5000 steps.An Alta Vista view at 6000 steps.The path I didn’t take at 7000 steps. I’ll save it for another day.The path I’m on at 8000.I said hello to Easter mountain at 9000.10,000 found me down in the valley, the valley so low…Crossed this bridge at 11,000.Sawmill Road at 12,000.Entering Purok 3 of Barangay San Isidro at 13,000. (a purok is a neighborhood, a barangay is a district within a city.)On the Govic highway at 14,000.The entrance to the Sierra Hills subdivision at 15,000. It’s the first time the gate has been open in months so I ventured in. The lady sweeping asked where I was going and I told her I was just passing through. She shrugged and said okay.On the mean streets of the Santa Monica subdivision at 16,000.17,000 steps brought me to the National highway.I passed through this small village near my house at 18,000And then I was home again at just shy of 19,000. That’s my helper Gina hanging out the laundry. Heh, I started my walking with a full moon and ended it with one…
So, I spent the next few hours doing my normal routines–blogging, napping, interneting, showering. And then it was time to hit the bars and celebrate the pending new year. My plan was to have one drink and buy one lady drink in each bar until I could go no more. I figured I’d be out of it by 9 p.m. at the latest. Nothing ever goes as planned it seems. First of all, I was downright shocked to discover about half the bars were closed. Why would you close a BAR on one of the biggest drinking nights of the year? As it turns out, with just a couple of exceptions, the bars that were open were dead. Go figure. So I wound up visiting fewer places and staying a little longer in them than I originally intended.
My first stop of the day was an old favorite, Alaska Club. It was the first bar I visited in the Philippines, back when it was in Angeles City. The door girl above escorted me inside so I had her join me for a drink. I was the only customer. There was something kinda-sorta familiar about the door girl. And then she reminded me. I had barfined her sometime last year and she gave me a massage with a happy ending. Ah yeah, now I remember! Anyway, I’ve got her number now and may give her a shot at filling the masseuse vacancy.Next up was Hot Zone. These two were the only ones on stage so I brought them both down for a drink. The one next to me was the touchy-feely type, but the night was young. I had two beers here and headed on down the street.I’d never been in bottoms up before and I’m unlikely to ever go back. Just a really depressing vibe for me. One other customer inside.My drinking companion in Bottoms Up. Already forgotten her name. A waitress came up and asked me if I remembered her. I didn’t. She told me she used to be my waitress at Treasure Island and specifically mentioned the Hash events we held there. Still didn’t remember her though. Oh well.
There were a couple more bars on this end of town I had planned to visit but they were closed. Except for Dive In, a bar I don’t particularly like. I used to date the bartender there though so I went inside and bought her some drinks.
Yep, that’s Jessa. Still not sure what happened between us. Just some disconnect. Well, it might be that she wanted more than I was prepared to risk. Anyway, I was the only customer. I stayed for three drinks and when I left the bar closed.That damn full moon kept on stalking me.Popped into Cheap Charlies and shared drinks with a couple of my regulars there.Next up was Wet Spot. I appear to be slightly intoxicated at this point. That’s Catherine, the neighbor gal who is always pestering me for rent and/or food money. Last night she got a lady drink. Today I’m back to ignoring her messages.I intended for Queen Vic to be my final stop for the night (it’s the last bar on my way home). And then Will (a fellow Hasher) showed up and started buying me beers. Queen Victoria’s manager announced they were closing at 10 p.m. so we finished our beers. Will was going to a party at another Hasher’s house in Alta Vista and invited me along. I had the good sense to decline but accepted his off of a ride home. Somewhere along the way I changed my mind and joined him at the party. More beers were drunk and so was I. I actually left a few minutes before midnight but knew the magic hour had arrived when the fireworks started while I was stumbling home.
And that’s how I spent the final day and night of the year. Except for the getting drunk part it wasn’t much different than most of my days here. Starting the new year with a hangover but I did struggle my way through a 7K walk this morning. Took a nap, wrote this post, and now I’m thinking about a massage.
