Bad to the bone | Long Time Gone

***I am what I am,*** ***and that’s all that I am…***

I carried an open umbrella for the entirety of yesterday’s Hash trail. And when I was finished, I was soaked to the skin. It’s been crazy lately, and even the old-timers say they don’t recall a time when it has rained this consistently and this intensely. Over 30 inches of water from the sky in the last two weeks. Luckily, the Hare, Buddy Fucker, laid a trail that was mostly pavement and beach walking. There were still plenty of puddles to wade through, but better than muddy paths for sure.

***Those brave souls willing to defy the rain gather at the VFW to commence with the hike.***

***A brief excursion on the National Highway before hitting the beach.***

***This is the worst I’ve ever seen Barretto Beach get trashed after the bay high tide vomited its innards.***

***The trail included a beer stop at Outback.***

***I elected not to imbibe, preferring to keep my walkaholism and alcoholism separate.***

***The trail concluded with a stroll down Baloy Beach.***

***It was a mess as well. Sorry the photo looks blurry; it was pouring down rain.***

***The view from our On-Home venue, the Tropical Zone Resort.***

***Chatting with the Tropical Zone bar staff.***

***The Hash Gash doing their usual card game.***

***Anal Receptive, Pubic Head, and Cum Together holding court.***

***Although it’s nicer when you aren’t sitting on the ice, IMHO.***

***Goat Fucker, our On-Home hostess, was awarded this week’s Hashit.***

As is our custom, we caught a trike to carry us to the It Doesn’t Matter after-Hash gathering. The folks who arrived ten minutes after us were talking about the landslide on the National Highway. We had just gone by where the hillside slid onto the highway before it happened. Damn, talk about blind luck! Here are some photos I took of the collapse this morning:

***The power lines went down as well.***

***That 3-wheeler was the only vehicle hit. Glad it wasn’t us in our trike.***

***The fruit and vegetable business here was also severely damaged.***

That’s more than enough excitement here in my little town.

Facebook memories once again remind me of how much more fun my first journey through the 70s was.

***1973, with my high school sweetheart, Karen, and my 1963 pickup truck, which I aptly named “Redford.” Gotta love Karen’s stylish bell bottoms.***

And here are some words I wrote eleven years ago:

Sometimes we wait awhile to begin our journey, but in due time we move on towards our destination. Along the way people come and people go, but the reality is we are all solitary travelers. And then the ride is over and it is time to pay the piper. And the damn fare machine won’t accept the only paper money in your wallet. And so goes another morning subway commute.

Those were the days.

Back to the April 2021 LTG archives, where I duly note my second-place finish in the Barretto Singles League, my schoolboy-style attempts to spark some interest from the girl I was crushing on, and a first-time encounter with a stranger who turned out to be only nineteen years old. Heh, I went as low as eighteen once, but those days are thankfully gone forever.

Today’s YouTube video offers some perspective on why the USA decolonized the Philippines. This vlog strikes me as having a bit of an anti-American bias, but the history is still thought-provoking.

Ready for more of this?

Time to get back to the real world. Hopefully, I’ll continue to slide on by the disasters.

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