Ain’t that the shits?

The ideal tyranny is that which is ignorantly self-administered by its victims. The most perfect slaves are, therefore, those which blissfully and unawaredly enslave themselves. – Dresden James

I posted that quote on Facebook EIGHT years ago. Talk about predicting the future!

Speaking of the Facebook memories feature, they also shared these gems from the past:

Kevin Kim and nephew Justin at the Brazilian steakhouse in Itaewon circa 2019. Hey, there’s an option for one of your cheat days, Kevin.
I met Eun Oke five years ago. When I posted this I speculated on what the future might bring. I was wrong. Again.
Our first date was an Itaewon pub crawl. What could go wrong?
I guess I’m halfway there anyway.
That’s me and my high school sweetheart back in 1973. That ended in failure too, but at least we are still friends on Facebook. We hooked up at our 20th-year high school reunion. That’s my truck, Redford, in the background.

Oh, and get a load of what Facebook put over one of the memes I posted today:

I think that might be a first for me. But wait until you see what it was they fact-checked.
Seriously Facebook? You are fact-checking this obvious joke?

It actually gets worse. The fact-check states that “No, Jill Biden wasn’t a teenage babysitter for Joe Biden’s family.” Okay then, so everything else stated in the meme must be true. Got it!

I was 29 years old in 1984. Never thought I’d be living in 1984 at this stage of my life.

Anyway, here’s another grenade I threw up on Facebook this morning. And yes, liberal heads are already exploding.

Good luck with the fact-check that one, Facebook!

Alright, let’s change the subject and talk about meat.

No, no, no! Not that kind of meat.
That fine bottom belongs to my friend Marick who recently opened a VERY small bar (seats 3).
This is the meat I’m talking about. Get a load of those John Kim ribeyes. So thick!
First time I fired up the new grill…
Getting a nice even fire from both burners…
They came out just the way I like them. I cut those big steaks in half to get a “normal” sized ribeye. The Filipina helper put hers on the stove to make it well-done. Sad but true, that’s how the locals do it here.
Back in the high life again.
Speaking of thick, check out this pecan pie, Ron, the owner of Sit-n-Bull baked. I popped in there this morning after my walk and grabbed one to bring home with me.
A bit pricey at 350 pesos ($7.) but I can’t even find pecans in this country.
The insides were moist, tender, and sweet–just the way I like it! I ate half after lunch and will have the rest after my evening on the town.

Alright, so that leaves us with yesterday’s Wednesday Walkers hike. We collectively decided to do the half of the Hash trail we had shortcut on Monday. But we did it in reverse. That involved a long, hard climb up the big mountain from Abra street. Once we were up though, it was actually quite pleasant. Going back down was a little tricky in places, but that’s normal.

There I was hiking and feeling fit.

Tried to fart, and it came out shit.

Yeah, that happened to me on the way to the meet-up location at VFW. I didn’t have time to turn around and go home to change, so I took my handkerchief and shoved it down my shorts hoping to capture whatever moisture my underwear didn’t. I was able to get into the restroom at the Dennito hotel to survey the damage. Yep, I had bleed-through in the crotch of my lightly colored shorts. Made it pretty obvious I had shit myself. Nothing to be done but to undertake an impromptu handwashing of the shorts and undies in the sink. So, I came out wearing soaking wet shorts, but no one asked me what happened. Thankfully. Oh, and I threw away my formerly white hankie.

The shitty part made the rest of the hike seem that much nicer. I’ve got pictures from the good part:

The trail we traveled.
Heading for the hills!
A tiring climb begins…
Let’s get it done, Johnny!
The handrail was a nice feature on a particularly steep section.
A high view…
And from another perspective.
Are you just going to lay there and watch, dog?
Summit achieved, time for a breather. We also secured evidence that we did, in fact, finally finish Monday’s Hash.
Carry on, then.
Time to head down?
Let’s do it!
Close the gate behind you, Steve!
Ah, the kids I missed on Monday finally got their cookies. And Chris brought candy too!
Are we there yet?
A mountain abode…
And another…
The serenity of the open trail…
And so concludes another post.

But before I go, let me share a joke I thought was pretty funny:

A 70-year-old billionaire walked into a pub with his 25-year-old girlfriend. His friend asked him how he managed to get a girl less than half his age. The billionaire replied, “I lied about my age on the dating site.” His friend retorted, “ That was a dreadful thing to do – how old did you say you were ……………. 35, 40, 45?””

No,” said the billionaire, “I told her I was 90!”

Even funnier, I told this to a bargirl the other night but forgot to mention the billionaire part. Once I delivered the punchline, she asked “oh, was he rich?” Maybe it is something in the genes here…

Speaking of jokes…

This joke is on us!

4 thoughts on “Ain’t that the shits?

  1. All the food looks good, and here I am, fasting on my final day of the Newcastle Diet. Ugh. Not sure where I can get a decent pecan pie where I live; I may have to make another one, but better this time. The last one was a little burned.

    Sharting is an issue as you get older. I’ve had two incidents, in recent years, while I was in bed. I rolled myself to the side in time to save my mattress from being soiled, but the awkward scurry to the bathroom felt miserable. Even now, while I’m distance walking, I’ll occasionally have to stop myself from farting when I can feel a wet bubble forming in my ass. Luckily, the local paths all have plenty of decent restrooms, so if there’s ever an emergency, comfort is never far away.

    Liberals don’t like the Saigon comparison, eh? Boo-fucking-hoo.

  2. I’d occasionally get a pecan pie at Paris Baquette if I recall correctly. Of course, when I was working and had access to the commissary bakery it was easy. Good luck with your next pie!

    I guess I’ve been lucky re: sharts. Once or twice a year, and I fart a lot! It’s the shits when it happens though.

    It’s hard to be a Biden defender when you are arguing with what he actually said…

  3. A “baquette,” eh? Well, I guess a “q” is just a “g” that hasn’t hit puberty yet. (Maquette + baguette = baquette?)

    I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pecan pie at Paris Baguette. I’ve seen walnut pies, which are fairly flavorless….

  4. I have no idea how I happened to misspell “baguette”. I know better. I even looked at the keyboard to see if there was a way it could have been a bad keystroke–nope, the q is nowhere near the g. Must be a memory issue, sorta like thinking I’d had a pecan pie at that shop I can’t spell. I probably just misremembered the walnut as pecan.

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