Some of us old fogeys were still feeling the effects of Monday’s Hash trail, so we voted for a flat route for the Wednesday Walkers group hike. We elected to do a circumnavigation of the Naugsol Valley, and it proved to be a hot and tiring but enjoyable 8K jaunt. We concluded our journey with some beers and snacks at The Rite Spot.

And then there’s that other part of my life that fills the evening hours. I got a haircut yesterday, and my barber is on the Subic side of the river. Given our proximity, I took Swan to see Smokes and Bottles. I’d only ever been there for the Hash On-Home and I’d been wanting to pop in for a visit as a customer.

Smokes and Bottles is not a bad venue, but it could be better. My beer was warm, so I had to drink it on ice. We were told there was live music at eight, but there was no music in the interim. I do appreciate some background noise, as long as it isn’t too loud. A couple more fans might have been nice, too. Anyway, we stayed for a couple of drinks and enjoyed some chicken fingers as a snack. It was dark when we departed, so we caught a trike back into town. Did a visit to Green Room and then finished the night at Wet Spot. Had an interesting chat with Daddy Dave and he bought a round of drinks, so it was a good visit. Then it was off to home, and some sugar-free pudding for my bedtime treat.

Facebook reminded me what I was doing six years ago:

On to today’s Quora Q&A adventure:

Q: Besides being older and not having to work, what are some of the differences between being retired and being a single man?

A: I am retired and I am single. So, there is no difference. It’s all the same. Day after glorious day.

I’m in a relationship now, but still not complaining…

This is the best humor I could come up with today. Sorry in advance:

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

Started with a candy walk and ended with a dinner party. Life is good.

Later, we hoofed it out to Baloy and visited Steve and Viola’s place for a small dinner gathering.

So, there was grilled chicken and pork, a chicken curry dish, and sides like salad, cole slaw, and potato salad. The cornbread muffins I contributed seemed popular.

The food was good, the beer was cold, and the company was entertaining. A few beers in, and us menfolk started talking politics and the fucked up mess the world has become. Steve’s an Aussie, but his Prime Minister is apparently almost as bad as Biden. Here’s to hoping the voters wake up from their ignorance and elect some new leadership. I’m not holding my breath, though.

The day was better than this post. I got so bored writing it that I had to take a nap. I’m back now, so bear with me.

Speaking of politics, here’s the Trump ad targeting minority voters in Georgia that Google doesn’t want you to see. They say it violates their “standards,” but they don’t say why. Spend thirty seconds, give it a watch, and you’ll see what protecting the leftie narrative is all about. Disgusting.

And here is another example of why I’m expecting trouble from China here in the Philippines. Duterte was China’s bitch, but so far, the current President is taking a stand to defend his country. We’ll see how long he can hold out. The fact that there is a joint exercise taking place now with the USA, Japan, and Australia is a good sign as well.

Let’s do the Quora Q&A:

Q: Have you ever dawdled a moment so you could stand a few steps behind a girl wearing hot pants on the escalator?

A: Of course not! I’d only do that if it were a short skirt.

Watch out for the creepy old man!

Maybe these will make you smile:

Anyway, Hash Monday is upon me. It’s a Vienna Sausage trail and a hot day. I’m sure there is a shortcut or two in my future. Tell you about it tomorrow.

I covered the best part of my yesterday in yesterday’s post. All that remains is the rest of the day. So here it is:

I’m attending a gathering at my Aussie friend Steve’s place on Baloy later this afternoon. For that reason, I moved the Hideaway feeding up a day. I fed five hungry girls with food from the Jewel Cafe. Actually, I fed four hungry girls because one left before I arrived. That aggravated me a little at first, but then I knew the food wouldn’t go to waste (the girls have hungry kids at home they share with), so why should I care? They ordered a breaded chicken breast, sisig, cornsilog, dangsilog, and longsilog. I always get an order of fried chicken wings for the girls to share as well. I was the only customer during the hour I spent at Hideaway. I don’t know how (or if) they’ll stay in business at this rate. I consider the feeding one of my “charity” projects, and the gals are always appreciative and thank me. Honestly, it’s the only reason I make a weekly visit to Hideaway. Although they do play nice music videos, so there’s that.

With the feeding out of the way, I headed out to the beach for my weekly visit to the Arizona floating bar.

We did our nightcap at Wet Spot. The big news there is that Swan’s friend (and my former drinking buddy) Aine is back to work. Apparently, things didn’t work out with the new boyfriend. Oddly enough, on our way to Wet Spot, I had asked Swan if she had heard from Aine since she declined the invitation for her and her fella to join us on Baloy. She had not. But as soon as we sat down last night, Aine joined us at our table, thirsty for lady drinks. Swan bought her two (I paid, of course). The epitome of a bargirl friendship.

While Aine and Swan got caught up, I chatted with another guy at the table who has been in the Philippines since his Navy days beginning in the 70s. He had some wild stories about the bar scene back in the day. He says everything now is tame and boring by comparison. Honestly speaking, a lot of what he shared sounds disgusting. Getting a blow job while watching a girl fuck a customer on stage just doesn’t interest me. To each his own.

Back home and early to bed brought a good day to an end.

So, I’ve got to say I’ve been astounded by various commenters alluding to me engaging in violence towards Swan. Nothing could be further from the truth, and nothing I have written here implies otherwise. We had a disagreement, and I walked away instead of staying and talking through it. That was the extent of my “sin.” I have lived through four failed marriages and never once hit or otherwise physically abused any of my exes. I can think of nothing more cowardly than a man striking a female. It is just not in my nature and will never happen. I wanted to be clear on that.

Today’s Quora Q&A is a special one:

Q: How was your first trip to the Philippines?

A: The first thing I noticed on my first visit to the Philippines was the poverty. My plane landed in Manila, coming in over the river that was lined with squatter houses and full of trash. Once on the ground, my driver took me through one of the squatter villages and apologized for what I was seeing, saying it was the fastest way to my destination. It was all pretty shocking and eye-opening; I’d never seen anything quite like it.

After spending a few days here, something else became quite apparent. Despite the poverty, the Filipino people are the happiest I’ve met anywhere in the world. The family is the center of life here, and the generosity and love within the family is something to behold. I’d never seen anything quite like that either.

I wanted to see and learn more, so I kept coming back for visits (I lived in Korea, so it was an easy trip). I eventually decided this is where I wanted to live, so I retired in 2018 and moved here permanently.

Here’s a funny and sad anecdote I can share. I brought my Korean girlfriend here for a visit the year before I retired. She had a blast and was treated like a rock star (Korean culture in the form of K-dramas and K-pop music is big here). On our last night in the Philippines, she broke up with me. I asked her why, and she responded, “Because we have no future. You want to retire here. Who wants to live in a poor country?” I told her that you can live in a rich country and pretend this world doesn’t exist, or you can live here and try to make a difference. That’s what I want to do.

So, I have two helpers and a driver. I’m making a difference for them. I do some charity projects that make things better for some. You can’t help everyone, of course, but it feels good to know that my presence is helping at least a few. I’m glad to be here!

Here’s what makes it special to me: This answer received over 2.7 MILLION views (most of my drivel gets seen by only hundreds). I also got 2,986 upvotes and 558 comments. Of course, this was a one-off occurrence and was written over four years ago. I rarely even bother answering Quora questions these days.

Now for some humor:

I made corn muffins and brownies to share with my fellow guests tonight. See you here tomorrow.

We had a very nice overnight getaway in the lovely barangay Pundaquit in the town of San Antonio, Zambales province. It’s only about an hour away from Barretto, and I always enjoy the change of pace with its beachy, small-town vibe. I changed things up some this trip by staying at a venue I’d never tried before, the Hidaway. Another first was booking a nipa hut room. It was small but surprisingly comfortable. It would have been more enjoyable had some maintenance issues been addressed (for example, the bedroom door scrapped the floor and the bathroom mirror was missing). Still, no complaints. Our hosts and the staff were fun and friendly, and we had a good time hanging out with them.

Here’s the story of our brief journey in pictures:

And that’s all there is to the small nipa hut we stayed in for 2500 pesos. Honestly, that seems way overpriced, but I’m not complaining–it served our purpose. Let’s check out the grounds, shall we?

Okay, that’s the Hidaway.Once we got settled in, we were ready for a late lunch. One of the reasons I wanted to stay at Hidaway is that it is right next door to one of my favorite places in the Philippines—the CMC Bar and Grill (aka The Car Wash).

So, what makes CMC/Car Wash my favorite? Well, it is a great bar, and I do enjoy that aspect. But what separates it from all the other bars I enjoy is its consistently outstanding food. That kitchen is top-notch fine dining quality serving up great meals for a frickin’ bar crowd in a tiny burg like Pundaquit. I’m glad I found it!

After lunch, we went back to Hidaway and chilled for a bit. I quaffed some brews at the Love Shack when beer o’clock rolled around. Earlier, I had messaged my friend who lives in San Antonio that I was in town, and we planned a meet-up at CMC/Car Wash.

Gary is a retired Navy man who spent a lot of time at the Subic Navy base back in the day. That’s where he met his Filipina wife all those years ago. Cathy came along as his designated driver, so Swan had someone to chat with while Gary and I caught up. Gary also introduced me to Stacy, the owner of a deli about a kilometer up the road. I promised I’d come by and give it a try for breakfast.

When it was time for Gary to leave, we paid up and headed back to our Hidaway. Swan went for a swim while I continued my imbibing at the Love Shack.

Greg and his wife Ava (who runs the place) used to live on Baloy fifteen years ago. In the small world department, Greg knew Swan’s love, Alan, back in the day. It’s so strange when that happens. Another thing about Greg is he knew the punchline to all my old jokes. Damn it, usually when I’m at a venue for the first time, all my jokes are new again. Oh well.

And a promise being a promise, when it was breakfast time, we strolled up the road for some coffee and food.

On our way back to Hidaway after breakfast, I saw this on a sign, and it gave me a chuckle:

There’s no point in going to Pundaquit if you ain’t gonna visit the beach, right? So, we set out on a short walk to the ocean.

We arrived safe and sound and have vowed to take similar excursions once a month or so. It was nice to get away for a bit.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: What is the best beach town to live in for an expat in the Philippines?

A: “Best” is pretty much dependent on your personal wants and preferences. I live in the beach town of Barrio Barretto (Olongapo City), and it works for me. A nice expat community of mostly retired folks like myself. Things to do like a Hash club, dart and pool leagues, and a variety of bars and places to hang out. Some top-notch restaurants as well. Good grocery shopping with western goods on the old Navy base and malls are just 20 minutes away.

The beach itself is on Subic Bay and is not all that pristine. Still, I enjoy my morning walks on the water. It’s a comfortable life here for me.

During this trip, I speculated about what life would be like if I lived in Pundaquit. It would be less convenient and a little more boring, but it is good to have options.

And I’ve got some humor to share as well:

Back to the other Hideaway today for a feeding. I’ve got other plans for Sunday this week. I’ll be back tomorrow, the good lord willing. In the meantime:

Sorry for yesterday’s cryptic post, but sometimes things just don’t go the way you’d like them to. My Thursday was weird in many ways, starting with sleeping in until almost 6 a.m. (I’m normally up between four and five). That threw all my routines off schedule. By the time I headed out for my weekly solo “long” walk, it was a little after nine. It was hot again, and I got about a block away and said, “fuck this,” and came back home.

The big bad event was a relationship issue that managed to trigger us both for different reasons. While from my perspective, her actions were inappropriate, I’ll concede my response wasn’t ideal either. I walked away to my room, closed the door, and stewed in my thoughts for a while. Then I took off for a walk. When I reached the end of Baloy Beach, I decided drinking some beer would meet my needs better than walking. It was only one o’clock, three hours ahead of my normal consumption schedule, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I popped into DaKudo’s and quaffed a few Zeros. That is where I was when I posted here yesterday. I was proud of myself for figuring out how to blog from my phone, but I wasn’t up for attempting to finger-peck a lengthy tirade. Then I moved down the road and pulled up a bayside stool at Harley’s.

I didn’t keep count of the beers I downed at Harley’s, but when I ordered the last one, I checked my watch and noticed, ironically, it was now 4 p.m., my normal beer o’clock. So, I caught a trike for home, but I wasn’t done yet. Swan wasn’t there, but I filled my ice chest, grabbed a bag of Tostitos and a jar of salsa, then I headed up to The Rite Spot On The Roof to continue my journey to pain-free drunkenness.

I fired up the speaker and played a Spotify country music playlist that seemed to suit my mood. Soon enough, I was singing along between sips (gulps?) of brew. One of them was a well-timed George Strait song:

I didn’t have a microphone, so I’m sure the neighbors didn’t suffer any auditory harm.

The sun was gone, but I continued drinking (and singing) alone in the dark. I lost track of the time, but it must have been around eight or so when Swan appeared on the roof and escorted me down the stairs. Of course, inebriation is inconsistent with diplomacy, but we did engage in detente, putting our issues aside for the time being and getting some much-needed peace in sleep.

Today is a new day and a new start. Hopefully, lessons have been learned, and we will be stronger together as a result. We are taking an overnight trip to Pundaquit this afternoon, and I think the getaway will be good for us. As an added bonus, I’ll have something new to blog about!

Facebook memories took me back thirteen years to my previous life as a loving grandfather:

Six years ago, I shopped at the base commissary for the last time.

Ready to Quora Q&A?

Q: When did you start to feel like the “old person” at bars?

A: When I moved from Seoul to Pyeongtaek, Korea. Seoul is, of course, a huge city filled with expats from all walks of life. We tended to hang out in the same bars in Itaewon, and I fit right in. When I moved with my job down south, my fellow bar patrons were all young soldiers from the American Army base nearby. I felt like the old person in the bars because I WAS the oldest person there.

Now that I’ve retired and moved to the Philippines, most of my fellow expats are also old retirees. I fit right in! The girls assure me that I am gwapo (handsome) and that age is just a number. Life is grand!

When these young guys from the Navy supply ships are in town, they really stand out in our old folks community. The girls seem to love having them around though, especially because they usually big spenders.

And now for some humor:

Alright, I’m looking forward to my getaway to the Hidaway. Yep, that’s the name of the resort I’m trying for the first time. Not HIDEaway, this one is Hidaway. Looking forward to a new experience staying in a Nipa hut. Here’s the picture of my room they sent me:

I’ll update you on how it goes here tomorrow.

In some ways, it was just another day, but then again, aren’t they all? I’m a man of routines, and my Tuesday routines are what they are–grocery shopping and some time out on Baloy Beach. I did spice things up with a morning visit to my dentist’s office. I had made the appointment two weeks ago when I was experiencing a toothache, but that went away in a couple of days thanks to the dental analgesic Dr. Jo prescribed. Still, the appointment was for a cleaning and examination, and it was good to see Dr. Barrera again. I’ll be back in two weeks because two of my fillings are cracked and must be replaced. It also appears I grind my teeth when I sleep, but I’m not keen on being fitted with a mouthpiece. We’ll see.

I paid too much for groceries again, then headed home for my daily routines like napping, blogging, and waiting for beer o’clock to roll around. I got a later start than usual because of an issue in the kitchen. I was baking a batch of blueberry muffins for the girls on the Kokomo floating bar, and when the timer chimed, I was distressed to discover that the oven had inexplicably shut off early in the baking cycle. So, I fired it up again, reset the timer, and waited for the muffins to finish their journey to browning. I had to put them in a plastic container instead of baggies because I didn’t want to wait for them to cool down. And here’s the kicker: Only a couple of the girls were interested in partaking in the treats I had made. I guess I shouldn’t care since it’s the thought that counts. But my thinking is that I won’t be baking for them in the future. Oh, well. The raft drivers took two each, so they were happy at least.

A trike ride home from Baloy and some bedtime smoothies to end the day.

My nephew Joshua is an ordained minister in a Pentecostal church, although he teaches English in Korea these days. He also leans right, unlike his indoctrinated leftie brother, Justin. Anyway, he posted this today on Facebook, and it gave me a chuckle:

Let’s move away from politics and consider this:

One of my readers and frequent commenters lives in Thailand. Maybe he can shed some light on the validity of this meme:

Alright, let’s get that taste out of our mouth with a Quora Q&A:

Q: What is the biggest culture shock you have ever faced?

A: It’s a tie between when I moved from Arizona to Arkansas and leaving the USA to live in South Korea. Same types of issues—language barriers and the locals looking upon me with suspicion. I never did get used to collard greens and black-eyed peas, but grilled Korean meats are still a favorite for me.

In both cases, things turned out great. Once folks figured out I was all right, I was welcomed and embraced. I married a Southern gal and a Korean woman—not at the same time, of course!

I honestly have no regrets about the moves that changed my life.

To the humor then:

That’s all for today. Back with more drivel tomorrow!

I’ve had diarrhea for three days now. Everything was coming out liquid, and I was up every hour or so last night to relieve myself. I had some leakage once during my sleep, but otherwise, there have been no accidents. Farting is not an option, however. Swan got me some meds this morning from the pharmacy, and I’ve been fasting to deny my dysfunctional digestive system any materials to work with. Hopefully, this will pass soon.

We did an abbreviated 5K candy walk yesterday morning until the candy ran out. Swan is becoming famous in the neighborhoods we visit.

Swan was still feeling a bit hungover from the heavy drinking at the SOB, so I was on my own last night. I started with a visit to Cheap Charlies. Saw some Hash buddies and watched the sun go down.

Had an SOB coupon (buy a lady drink, get two free local drinks) so I decided to visit Alaska Club to expend it. It was a pleasant visit there as well. I did my nightcap at Wet Spot and chatted with owner Daddy Dave about my SOB judging fuckup. I told him that if my overlook of Voodoo cost them a first-place finish, I wanted to compensate the girls for their loss. He went to his office and got the results. Upon review, my voting for Voodoo (I had them ranked third) would not have changed the outcome. That was a relief.

I went home on schedule, then off to bed for a sleep-interrupted night while I peed out of my ass. I’ll be glad to put that, ahem, behind me.

There was another fire at the Kalaklan hillside cemetery yesterday:

Facebook memories included my farewell to Korea party.

In the Quora Q&A category, I have this:

Q: Where is the most British town in the USA?

A: London, Kentucky. I’ve actually been there. I told my friends I was going to London for the weekend. They were so jealous. It takes a while to get used to the accents there, though, y’all.

That answer got over four thousand views for some reason. What I remember most about London, KY was that it was in a dry county…so no beer for me on that trip.

You want humor? I’ve got some humor for you:

I’m one of the Hares tomorrow, and we marked the trail this morning. An 8K ass-kicker, compounded by this fuckin’ heat wave. So, we’ll see how the Hashers like it.

And it was an SOB. That pretty much captures the way of my day.

I started things off with the Friday group hike. I selected our route, which included one modest mandatory climb and an optional visit to the top of Black Rock. I had in mind a long valley walk at the end, but in a concession to the heat, we took a shortcut that shaved a kilometer or two off our intended path.

It was just under 8K for me, and I was soaked. I’ll be just as wet come the rainy season, but I’ll be a lot cooler. Hurry your ass up, Mother Nature!

The days are hot and humid, which also creates hazy skies. This view from my patio reflects that:

Then it was time to head into town for the Sons of Baccus dance competition at the Green Room. I went early to get good seats, and Swan joined me just before the show started.

I liked the Whiskey Girl performance the best, with Green Room a close second.

I’m usually in sync with the other judges, and I understand that the home team usually has an advantage (the home team has won the past four weeks in a row). Last night, the final tally came out like this:

1st Place: Green Room

2nd Place: Voodoo

3rd Place: Whiskey Girl

4th Place: Alaska

So, I don’t know if I fucked Voodoo out of first by not listing them at all on my ballot or not. I feel shitty about it either way, and I will punish myself by declining to judge in the future. Sorry about that, girls.

We went home directly after the show having had too much of a good thing already.

Where did Facebook take me on the stroll down memory lane today?

Let’s get the Quora Q&A bullshit out of the way:

Q: How did your husband react when you told him you were pregnant?

A: Well, I can’t pass up the opportunity to tell my story. I was not married to her at the time, but we did eventually marry.

So, I was 19, and she was 17. We had been dating for a while. I had just gotten a German Shepherd puppy. Anyway, I picked her up from work, and while we were still in the parking lot, she told me the news: I’m pregnant.

I responded like any rational man would do: Damn it! If I knew you were going to get pregnant I wouldn’t have got the dog!

All’s well that ends well. I got to experience the joy of raising my sweet daughter. And I kept the dog, too!

And that was what led to marriage #1. It lasted six years before she said, “I don’t want to be a wife and a mother anymore.” So, my journey as a single father with sole custody of my two kids began. Until I found wife #2. But that’s another story for another day.

Today’s humor is a little more nasty than usual. You’ve been warned!

I’ll tell y’all about today, tomorrow. Y’all come back now, hear?

+

Another Wednesday, another hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. This time, we climbed halfway to the top of Kalaklan Ridge and then walked a path that meandered across the side of the mountain. It looked like this:

Swan had family time in the afternoon, and I headed out to Sloppy Joe’s at beer o’clock. Swan joined me there later.

Swan and I did our nightcap at the Green Room, then we ordered Sit-n-Bull takeout and headed home. And so ended another day in the life.

Another scamdemic memory via Facebook:

Speaking of memories, I came upon an old post of mine remembering my early days as a tourist in the PI. Maybe my best day ever was in 2008 at an impromptu pool party with the girls from the old Alaska bar in Angeles City. Give it a look if you are so inclined.

Maybe I should get a new hat?

Scott (Pubic Head) posted cartoon-like versions of all the female Hashers. Here’s an example:

There’s a joint US-Philippines military exercise taking place and I hear we have quite a few American marines domiciled on SBMA. I figured they would put Barretto off-limits, but I’m told some have been spotted around town this week. This cartoon seems to be appropriate to the situation:

Let’s get today’s Quora Q&A out of the way:

Q: As gratitude for essential workers, if the federal government gave every American a $26 dollar raise, raised the minimum wage to $26/hour, greatly strengthen labor laws, banned stock buybacks, broke up oligopolies, what would the USA look like?

A: Venezuela.

Four more years of Biden, and we’ll be there.

Ready for some cringe?

Today is the one-year anniversary of the passing of Swan’s former love, Alan. There is going to be a rooftop gathering/remembrance for him up at The Rite Spot On The Roof this afternoon. I’m attending at Swan’s request. There will be food and beer, so I should be happy. Tell you all about it tomorrow.

And every little bit helps, right?

It will be six years ago next month that I made the move to the Philippines. One of my concerns back then was how I would adapt to living in comparative luxury while many of the people around me struggled in poverty. During my tourist days, I found that depressing. So, my plan coming in was to help some as best I could and take comfort in that giving. Yes, a selfish form of charity for sure–I give to alleviate my guilt. Of course, early on, I had to learn how to pick and choose when, where, and who to help. Frequent commenter Kevin Kim deemed it Rule #1: Don’t be a sucker! I’ve gotten quite a bit better at rejecting the scammers and blocking the constant beggars I encounter on social media. I still entertain random requests from people I know that I deem sincere, but I mostly confine myself to a set group for whom I provide some support on a regular basis.

Now, I recall the admonishment of Jesus in the Book of Matthew:

“So when you give something to a needy person, do not make a big show of it, as the hypocrites do in the houses of worship and on the streets. They do it so that people will praise them. I assure you, they have already been paid in full. ³ But when you help a needy person, do it in such a way that even your closest friend will not know about it. ⁴ Then it will be a private matter. And your Father, who sees what you do in private, will reward you.”

Matthew 6.1-6

Regardless, talking about what I give to others ranks pretty low on the list of my sins. And it is good to keep track of your charity budget.

There’s MJ, the mountain mama widow with two half-American kids and no income since her husband died. He did build her a paid-for shanty house up in the hills but never bothered to get his children the coveted American citizenship that would have provided some Social Security benefits for his family after his passing. Anyway, after I met MJ, I decided to make her my “big” project, which was to the tune of 12,000 pesos a month. She occasionally contacts me with some emergency or other like she did yesterday, needing food and medicine for the kids. I reminded her that I am on a budget and she also needs to budget her monthly stipend. Still, I relented and sent her the requested funds.

Other projects include Eithan, an elementary school student in Bohol, for whom I periodically provide money for school expenses. I’m also helping Mary (the 18-year-old I briefly dated) as she pursues a college education. And I give Joy a thousand pesos a week to supplement her bargirl salary as she struggles to raise two kids as a single mother. Those are the big ones, and I occasionally help some acquaintances with “emergencies” like paying the electric bill. Yeah, I’m no hero, but I also no longer request or receive any quid-pro-quo benefits for my donations. I stopped doing that when I hooked up with Swan.

Sometimes, the smallest gifts bring the most joy. That’s why the weekly candy walks with Swan are so much fun. We spend a thousand pesos each week to fill our bags with goodies and get a ton of priceless smiles in return.

But the giving wasn’t done quite yet; I still had a feeding at Hideaway to attend to.

I was scheduled to meet Swan at 5:30, but she messaged me a little after five, saying the floating bar raft wouldn’t come to pick her up on the beach. What the hell? It turns out it was a misunderstanding—the raft driver thought Swan was looking for me, and he waved her off because I wasn’t there. Anyway, the mamasan apologized and bought us each a drink, so I don’t think it will happen again.

And then something weird happened. A guy came racing by on a jet ski, then pulled alongside the floating bar and climbed aboard. I’m not nautically inclined, but I know enough to know that you have to secure your floatation device. He didn’t, and sure enough the jet ski drifted off. The stranger didn’t seem to care and walked to the bar and asked for a glass of water. He didn’t appear drunk or anything, but he did seem a little off somehow. Swan said he was Filipino. Anyway, he takes out his phone and asks some of the bargirls sitting around if he could take a picture with them. They all declined. Then finally, the bartender said she would take one with him. She’s a big girl and not too cute, and the rude stranger declined the offer. His jet ski was twenty yards away by now and I assumed he was going to have to jump in and swim to retrieve it. Instead, he called out to a couple of young boys playing on a nearby boat. They jumped in the water and pushed the jet ski back to the floater. He hopped on without a word, and rode away.

I felt bad for the rejected bartender and asked her if she would take a picture with me. She laughed and agreed.

Naturally, I bought the bartender a lady drink. I asked Swan if the crazy dude had tipped the boys who retrieved his jet ski, and she said he hadn’t. So, we gave them 50 pesos for helping the guy out. See, it was indeed a day of giving!

And shortly thereafter, so were we. We walked up the highway to Sit-n-Bull and ordered some food for takeout. While we waited, Jack and his gal Monica joined us at our table. Jack ordered a salad appetizer and specified that he wanted it with boiled egg and tomato. I laughed out loud when I saw what he was served:

It was a nice ending to a fun day.

A commenter asked if there was more than one gated entrance to Alta Vista. Well, there is only one gate, so it is technically a gated subdivision. However, there is no fence, and there are several unguarded footpaths in and out of Alta Vista.

So, it’s not exactly secure. The homeowners’ association has been trying to get the developer to “build that wall.” I’m personally opposed to the idea as I like being able to hike in and out as I please. That really came in handy during the scamdemic lockdowns.

Ready for some Quora Q&A?

Q: Who was responsible for what happened at Waco?

A: Well, I was pretty drunk, and she looked a lot better at midnight than she did at 8:00. It was all her idea, and I wound up bringing her back to my room. I woke up the next morning with a horrible taste in my mouth. I got up to wash my face, looked in the mirror, and noticed a string hanging between my front teeth.

“Please, God, let it be a teabag,” I said out loud. It wasn’t.

In the end, I have to take full responsibility for what happened in Waco that night.

Bada bing!

Let’s keep the laughter rolling:

It’s another Hash Monday, so I’ll be hitting the trail soon. The On-Home is at a Hasher residence at the end of Rizal Extension. I’m not a fan of getting home from there after a few beers, so I’ll likely do the Hash but not stay for the circle. I’ll play it by ear and see how I feel.