Anyway, here’s a short recounting of my Saturday, um, as the crow flies dies.

We didn’t have any chocolates to dispense because ALL the stores (we visited several) are sold out. So, no candy bags but a few odds and ends to hand out. Not enough for the regular Decay Dance, so we just did an abbreviated walkabout.

It Doesn’t Matter Bar was having its end-of-year party at McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. We dropped by, but things were already well underway; there was nowhere to sit, and no more Zero or Light beers. That’s what happens when you arrive late. I dropped off the sweets (muffins and lollipops) I’d brought, then headed up the beach for Treasure Island.

Neighbors Jeff and Davina were having a family outing at Treasure Island, and several others had joined in the fun, so we did too.

It was well after dark when home beckoned. When I got my tab, it said I had drunk 14 San Miguel Zeros. I’m not sure that was right, but I was in no position to argue about it, so I paid. And just to be clear, I was on my feet and doing fine. We even had to walk a bit before finding a trike. Back at the house, I put some yogurt on a brownie for dessert, played some solitaire on the laptop, and had no trouble once I hit the sack.

I had a weird dream (aren’t they all?) just before waking up, that I actually remember. The details are fuzzy, but basically, it involved a transgender man being ridiculed by a group of individuals in a public setting. I defended the tranny by shouting out that he has the right to live as he chooses (notably, I did not do that pronoun thing). When I thought about the dream, it was not inconsistent with my usual modus operandi. The tranny wasn’t invading any female spaces (which I vehemently oppose) or engaging in any other untoward behavior. So, live and let live is fine by me, unless and until you cross the line and let your insanity impact others around you. Anyway, it was a weird thing to dream about.

Facebook memories took me back to this day in 2017. I was visiting the Philippines, and a Manila gal I’d been chatting with for a while met me at the airport when I landed.

It’s still May 2016 in the LTG archives, and in this post, I write about closing more doors as I worked to escape the trauma of my broken marriage. It only hurts until the pain goes away.

For today’s YouTube video, I share some of this vlogger’s perspectives on what a bad day really looks like. I noted that he took some heat in the comments for parts of his commentary and video structure (like that gal on the balcony who didn’t encounter any disasters other than being clickbait). Still, I was there for the action shots of destruction and wasn’t disappointed.

You gotta laugh, or at least try and smile:

Whatever it means, I’m outta here for now. Rumor has it that the Arizona floating bar is back in operation, so I’ll be checking that out. According to their Facebook page, John’s place will be open today, so we’ll be dining there. And then we shall see what happens.