Another lazy Tuesday is in the books. I call it my lazy Tuesday because I go grocery shopping instead of hiking. This week Royal featured three items I was interested in at significantly discounted prices. I kept them together in the cart and then paid close attention as the cashier ran them through the scanner. All came out with the reduced price, so I’m happy to report that Royal didn’t try and scam me this week.
My mountain mama came to collect her weekly allowance and also gave me one of her great massages. Maybe the best ever. Sometimes I fantasize about building a hut up on her mountaintop and living that life with her. Of course, the reality is that I’d likely go stark raving mad after a week or two isolated up there.
In the afternoon, I got bored waiting for beer o’clock to roll around, so I decided to take a walk on Baloy beach. One of my reasons for doing so was that I’d been reading about the resolution of a property dispute, and the “rightful owners” were having the “squatters” removed from the land and their buildings destroyed. In my mind, I was picturing a few dilapidated shacks and shanties being dispensed with, but Wowza, it was a three-block stretch of destruction, including several beach resorts that catered to low-income Filipinos. When I walked by, it looked like someone had dropped a bomb.
My other reason for visiting Baloy yesterday was to check out rumors that the Kokomo’s floating bar was once again anchored offshore.
In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for taking in beach views like this:
I walked on up the beach and noticed it was now beer o’clock, so I popped into McCoy’s for a cold one. It has been several weeks since my last visit here, and I was warmly greeted by the friendly bartender.
I wound up staying for three beers, then headed back up Baloy Road to Barretto. And since Snackbar is right at the intersection of Baloy and the highway, it was perfectly logical that I should pay them a visit while I was in the neighborhood.
I had a few more beers here and bought a round of lady drinks for the staff. The sad thing is that with the sister resto now closed, no food is available at the inaptly named Snackbar. I suggested to the owner that she get a Sit-n-Bull menu since they deliver, but she insisted she is going to find a new location for her kitchen. I wish her good luck with that effort.
Being hungry, I wandered up the highway to Wet Spot and had a big El Padre burrito delivered from Sit-n-Bull next door. It definitely hit the spot and filled a void. I washed it down with a couple more beers, then called it a night. According to my Fitbit, I was asleep shortly before 9 p.m.
That’s the way this old man rolls on a lazy Tuesday. Tonight I’ll be feeding the girls from Hideaway, and we’ll see what happens from there.
Oh, and let me leave you with this TikTok snippet of gals dancing to Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone.” And just so you know, I don’t normally indulge in TikTok at all (although the Chinese probably get a full account of my activities from Google anyway), but it was posted on the Althouse blog, and I did rather enjoy it. So here you go:
Hmm, the video doesn’t embed, so you’ll have to click on the link. Sorry!
“If we don’t tell people how we feel, how will they know?”
Since women love playing “Guess what I’m thinking” mind games while pretending nothing is wrong when something obviously is, I think this question should be addressed primarily to women. Women love to pretend that men have some sort of ESP. Instead, they need to learn to use their damn words.
I wonder how many years it will take for that property to get developed.
wow
the woman on the right on the snackbar photo is absolutely stunning. the one in yellow 💛
Although as I write this I contend that she may be more a girl and not a grown woman
such natural beauty and an disarming charming innocent smile 😇
I don’t know how you don’t develop neck aches from constantly looking at such beautiful women
but
Teddy, she’s a hottie, that’s for sure. Newest member of the crew, and to be honest, I can’t recall her name at the moment. There are a couple of other “old timers” there that I’m fond of giving my attention. They do tend to be young at Snackbar, early 20s for the most part.
What? Are you mansplaining, Mr. Misogynist?
You are correct, of course. They even have a word for it here when a Filipina gets upset about something but won’t talk about what it is–tampo. The standard period of silence runs three days, I’m told, then hell breaks loose. A lot of guys say that the lengthy period of not talking is more of a feature than a bug.
It will be interesting to watch and see what, if anything, happens to all that beachfront property. I feel sorry for the former residents, I used to walk through there quite often, and it always seemed like a friendly and happy community.