The wins keep multiplying. Another first-place finish in last night’s Alley Cats tournament. This victory was all the more unlikely because I truly did play like shit, especially early on. We got knocked into the loser’s bracket in the first round and barely managed to avoid being first out of the tourney. Had some luck along the way and kept fighting and scratching our way into the championship finals. It came down to the last leg of a very tough match but we pulled it out of our ass somehow.

So that makes four tourney wins in a row. Will I take the fifth tonight? Not going to answer that on grounds that it may incriminate me.

In other news, the weather has finally cleared up. That allowed me to take a slightly longer and more interesting walk this morning. I’m sure y’all have been jonesing for some outdoorsy pictures, so here you go:

It does seem that there is a hierarchy amongst my pets:

And that’s all I’ve got for today.

UPDATE: Well, damn. I didn’t even check today’s post title because it didn’t occur to me that I might have used such a silly pun previously. Turns out I did–way back in September. Then my cute pun was about our hike: Us four going forth on the fourth. Hey, it was funny in my head. Oh well.

I was going to call this post “practice makes perfect” but I used that title last year. I know I recently said I was going to rededicate myself to darts practice and try to reclaim some of the skills I once had achieved back in my glory days. Such as they were. Alas, thus far I haven’t found the motivation to carve out an hour each day for this worthwhile activity. I mean, what am I suppose to do, give up my naptime? No way!

Since I like spending time in bars you’d think I could just spend some time in one of the venues with dartboards. I’ve considered that and still might try that option. One issue I have is that the Alley Cats tourneys are starting at 3:00 p.m. on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. That’s just a bit too early in the afternoon for me, especially on the days I do the group walks. I played yesterday though for the first time in two weeks.

If it is true that practice makes perfect then maybe it should also be said that sometimes “good enough” will suffice. It did in yesterday’s tournament at least as my partner and I achieved a first-place finish. I was pleased that despite my lack of practice I threw quite well overall and hit most of the out shots during the matches. We got knocked into the losers bracket in the first round but fought our way back to reach the finals where we defeated the team we first lost against twice to take home the money. That’s always especially satisfying.

After the tourney, I crossed the highway to take my reserved seat at Mango’s. Ordered up some chicken fingers to satisfy my hunger pangs. Then I had some eye candy for dessert:

I started today off with a hearty breakfast:

Speaking of striving for perfection, or at least showing improvement, I tried to incorporate the searing technique commenter Kevin Kim mentioned the last time I posted steak photos. So, I fired up the grill and let it run full blast for a few minutes before plopping on the steaks, then turning them over a minute of so later.

Nothing to do after a breakfast like that than to take a nice long walk. I did My Bitch from end-to-end today. Someone has blocked up the entrance from Alta Vista by cutting down trees to make the trail inaccessable which really pisses me off. I was able to work my way around the obstructions with some difficulty but a fence is also under construction. Going to have to explore a new access point.

So, it is not a perfect life I am living, but I reckon it’s good enough.

And mamas, don’t let you kids grow up to be reporters:

Until we meet again.

Last night at the dart tourney I drew Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner. There was a collective groan as everyone expected us to win. Honestly, so did I. It’s aggravating though when people complain about the outcome of a blind draw; it’s inherently fair because it’s purely a matter of chance or luck or fate or whatever else you might want to call it. One guy was loudly calling for an end to the blind draw format and instead using a ranking or rating method so the best players would never be on the same team. The problem is how do you fairly rank players who randomly show up and participate in the tournament?

Anyway, the games are won or lost at the dartboard, not at the draw. And there were strong teams other than Steve and I. In the first round we went up against Christi and Espie. Christi is an outstanding player and Espie is solid and knows how to play the game. They wound up beating us, and they did it by throwing better darts than we did. I told Steve after that match that at least that should shut people up about how “unfair” it was that we had drawn up as partners. We fought back through the losers bracket and faced off against Christi and Espie once again in the finals. And once again they beat us. That loss was squarely on me as I had shots at the winning out in both legs and didn’t hit it. That’s just the way it goes sometimes. No shame in second place.

HaHa! I just noticed you can see Buddy’s head under my glass top table. Guess he was hoping for some scraps. Good boy!

I’ll offer up this for today’s installment of the “interesting” photos feature:

And that’s about all I’ve got for now. I did enjoy this take on that upstart Wuhan virus:

An interesting (for me) dart tourney last night at Alley Cats. A large turnout had the tiny bar packed. And with only two dartboards I figured I was in for a long night. In fact, I usually don’t bother playing when there are more than eight teams because there is too much time waiting around between matches. Twelve teams (24 players total) participated last night. Lots of later arrivals, otherwise I wouldn’t have signed up. Oh well.

So, I drew Vincent as my partner. I had played with him once before and we wound up winning the tournament. Could history repeat? I figured we’d be a strong team. Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, had drawn a weaker partner. Would his superior dart skills be enough to carry her to victory? I knew Billy and Beth would be a force to be reckoned with as well. Only one way to find out: let the darts fly and land where they may.

The only thing consistent about my game last night was my inconsistency. And Vincent didn’t throw as well as I remembered him playing in the past. It made for a tough night, every leg we played was a battle. We’d each have a couple of piss poor throws, and then out of the blue one of us would throw for a big score. That kept us in the fight. Steve and his partner lost in the first round and were eliminated from the loser’s bracket shortly thereafter. Very unusual for him to not finish in the money. Just as surprising was Vincent and I made it all the way through the winner’s bracket undefeated. Then we faced off against Billy and Beth and after a back and forth struggle, finally prevailed.

Courtesy of Facebook, I was reminded that six years ago I was entertaining delusions of grandeur regarding my ability to play darts in the big time. I was a lot better in those days, primarily because I worked at it and also had some passion for the game. These days I pretty much just show up and let ’em fly. Anyway, back in 2014, I was playing a tournament in Augusta, GA and made it on television.

After a star-studded night, the sun came out this morning.

A bit later I ate a light breakfast at Sit-n-Bull:

Now I reckon I better get up off my lazy ass and see if I can’t walk off some of those calories.

First out that is. Which is dart lingo for last place. So, I went from first to worst in less than 24 hours. And that is just the luck of the draw.

In a doubles tournament, your partner is selected randomly. So you take what you get and make the best of it. As an experienced player, I certainly understand and accept that sometimes your partner will suck. Actually, when I draw an inexperienced or weaker player I’ll try to mentor them some if they are receptive to that. Otherwise, I shrug it off and just try and have fun. There is one exception to that: I despise having a drunk partner. I wrote about Pierre, a fucking drunk from Sweden, I drew as a partner last month. Yep, you guessed it. I drew him again last night. So drunk he could barely stand. One out of three of his throws didn’t even hit the board. Seriously, who signs up to play in a dart tournament in that condition? Oh well, he gives new meaning to the word loser. For example, this morning as I’m walking I pass by Johansson’s and Pierre is sitting at the bar, drunk. At 9:00 a.m. He probably never went home last night. Glad I’m not him!

At least my early night was not a total waste. I had this waiting for me at home:

Here’s today’s “interesting” photograph:

And in a Back to the Future moment, I found myself walking tomorrow’s Hash trail this morning:

What else is going on? Well, a case of the virus epidemic has struck closer to home.

The virus has made it’s way to my province of Zambales though. Still far enough away to not make me feel threatened, but still too close for comfort. I doubt with my diminished lungs I’d survive an infection. I’d keep my fingers crossed, but then I wouldn’t be able to finish this blog post.

I think I mentioned that I sponsored a hole for the VFW golf tournament fundraiser. Here it is:

This evening I’ll be attending some other VFW Beach Bash events. No darts tourney this yeat though. I’ll try and get some pics of the Miss Beach Bash beauty pageant for y’all.

One thing I like about my house is I’m walking distance to the bars. But coming home always seems to be a longer journey.

That’s all for now. Well, here’s one of my favorite music videos:

Another dart tournament last night and another victory. That’s my partner Espie pictured above. She’s recently returned from several months in Sweden where she was visiting her fiance, Pierre. I guess on those long winter nights they passed the time throwing darts because her game has improved exponentially since the last time I saw her play. She was en fuego last night, certainly better than I was.

It was funny, when I first arrived at the bar she said to me “I hope we can be partners.” I responded, but you have a fiance! She clarified that she meant darts partners. And as fate would have it, that’s how it turned out. And yes, we beat Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, along the way. In fact, we never lost a leg, winning all our matches 2-0. It was a lot of fun.

Today’s “interesting” photo from my walk:

At first glance, I read it as “big ass frozen foods for sale”. Of course, what they mean is they have bigas (rice in Tagalog) and frozen foods for sale. I like my initial reading better.

Speaking of which, I’m not sure if I should be worried about the onset of old-timers disease or not. I re-read yesterday’s post this morning and noticed where instead of writing “feeling sorry for Lucky” I wrote “filling sorry”. Damn, how ignorant does that make me look? I mean, I make plenty of writing and grammatical errors out of pure ignorance. But trust me, I do know the difference between feeling and filling. Like after I read that post the feeling that I’m a crappy proofreader was filling my mind. Oh well, thanks for your indulgence dear readers.

No real updates on the Kung-fu virus here in the Philippines. A few more reported cases, but nothing in my neck of the woods. Although as an indication of just how powerful this plague truly is, I noticed this morning that it is actually changing the character of litter. I shit you not:

That’s all for now folks. The road is calling to me, so walk I must.

So I walk a lot. And when I’m not walking, I’m sitting. Usually on a barstool. But you knew that already, right? A goodly long walk yesterday afternoon and some darts last night. That filled the hours better than standing still ever could.

A third-place finish again in the tourney. Had Christi, one of the top players as a partner, so was feeling confident. Went head-to-head (or is it hand-to-hand?) with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, in the first round. Steve’s partner was all over the board but got his fair share of lucky hits. Christi and I were both off our games. Steve was playing at a whole other level. Really amazing actually, almost pro caliber. We still managed to take them three legs before being dispatched to the loser’s bracket. We wound up meeting Steve and his partner again in the semi-finals and finished with the same result. Anyway, there is no shame in losing to a superior player, just wish I had played a little better. That’s about all the caring I can muster.

Not much else to share today except some stuff I found amusing on Facebook:

Time to get movin’…

My luck held out on my afternoon hike yesterday:

Things can be a little dicey here sometimes. I took this photo before I crossed over the bridge, just in case. It turned out to be sturdier than it appears. Although it is probably lucky I no longer weigh 270 pounds. You can also see the littering issue I sometimes rail about. Folks will literally sweep the dirt in the yard surrounding their shack. And then think nothing of throwing trash into the creek behind their house. All I can do is shake my head and walk on.

I also had some good luck in darts last night. It was an annual tournament played in honor of the now-deceased former owner of Alley Cats. So there was a good turnout, the entry fee was doubled to P200, and the payout was higher. Oh, and they served some snacks. I even practiced for the second day in a row! I guess all that hard work paid off because I drew Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner.

Okay, you could almost hear the groans. Steve is the best player around and my game, such as it is, it also pretty well respected. On some nights I might even be the second-best player in the tourney. So, in a lot of minds, it was a foregone conclusion that Steve and I were going to win even before the first dart was thrown. Except you’ve got to play to find out and there were some other solid teams standing between us and victory.

Here’s the thing, there’s a lot more pressure when you are expected to win. And as Steve noted, everyone in the bar was pulling against us. I get that, no one was rooting for Goliath either. Well, Steve threw his usual solid game and I was typically inconsistent with moments of brilliance, especially hitting the out shots better than usual. But Alan and Rica took us to the third leg in a hard-fought battle before we prevailed. We then met Christie and Jocelyn in the finals and they could have (should have) beat us. Christie was on fire and I’ve never seen Jo throw such strong games. In the end, we came out on top as expected, but it was no walk in the park.

Back in my previous life, I had started a singles dart league in Seoul and in Columbia. It proved to be quite popular. I’m thinking of doing the league here in Barretto but no longer have any of the files (rules, scoresheets, etc) I used. Emailed an old friend back in Korea and asked if he might still have them. His response: “You got lucky” and sent me a link to dropbox. Heh, let’s see if I’m lucky enough to figure out how to access files from dropbox.

In other news, I see that President Trump regrets his hasty decision to jump into the recent anti-vaping hysteria. Which got me thinking. I haven’t vaped since around Christmas time. I’m pretty much over what had been ailing me and there is really no reason not to resume my habit. Except I don’t think I will. In fact, I put all my vape gear away this morning and decided to move on to the next vice. Whatever that may prove to be. I never thought vaping hurt my lungs, but why push my luck?

I played darts for the first time in a couple of weeks last night. It’s truly odd that these long layoffs don’t seem to affect the overall quality of my game. Or maybe I’m just lucky. I was definitely lucky in the “luck of the draw” when I pulled Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner on the night.

Anyway, we were both on it and didn’t lose a leg throughout the tournament. Unstoppable we were! These days I only play when the mood strikes me and I try to just keep it fun. Maybe that’s the secret to my success. That and an awesome partner.

Tonight I’ll be back to Alley Cats to participate in the Christmas celebration. I’ve got an envelope I’ll be gifting each of the girls. Ho-Ho-Ho!

Oh, and I made brownies.

Saturday night in the Barrio! Let’s roll!

If you think my grammar and punctuation are bad, you should have seen me doing math at darts last night.

I’m not the most accurate or consistent thrower, but I do pride myself on knowing my out shots. For you non-darters, the game of 501 requires that you finish with a double-out. So for example, if you have 32 left on the board, you would need a double 16 to win. But that’s the easy part. Setting yourself up to have an outshot requires some strategic thinking. Or at least the ability to do some simple subtraction.

So, last night my partner leaves me with a 91 out. The best way to throw a 91 out is to go triple 17 (51 points) and double 20 (40 points) for the win. Easier said than done of course. So I step up to the throw line brimming with confidence, aimed at that triple 17, and let my dart fly. Thunk. Single 3. So, with 89 left the preferred shot is triple 19, double 16. I threw a single 19, precluding any possible out with my remaining dart. Best you can do in that situation is to leave a good outshot for your partner’s next throw. I threw a single 18 leaving a 52.

Except the scorer said we had 51 remaining. I respectfully disagreed, having done the math in my head as I threw. She said “3 + 19 + 18 = 40. 40 from 91 leaves 51.” The scorer even illustrated her point by writing out what she was saying. How can that be? I mean, I couldn’t argue that the numbers didn’t equal 40, but I was quite certain that I was leaving my partner an even number. So I said, “91 – 3 = 89. 89 -19 =70. 70 – 18 = 52.” She looked at me like I was stupid or something. So, I started to explain my reasoning again, 91 – 3 = 89… She shook her head and said “no, it doesn’t. That leaves 88.” Oh shit. “Never mind,” I said and sheepishly walked away.

Walked the dogs, grilled some brats for breakfast, and baked up a batch of brownies to share on the drive down to Angeles. Busy morning.

Alrighty then, time to prepare for the Hash with my fellow Hashers in AC. More drivel to come, but at least from a new venue! Stay tuned!

A second place finish in darts last night. My partner and I lost in the first round but fought our way back through the loser’s bracket to make the finals. Yep, faced off against Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, once again. We won the first match 2-0, and we went to the third leg of the championship match before succumbing to Steve’s superior darts. Still, I was happy that I threw well for most of the night. Perhaps I’ll be motivated to practice some more and take my game back to the level at which I once played. We’ll see.

It’s a weird thing though. I played better at the end of the night than I did at the beginning. The only difference I can think of is the several beers I consumed during the intervening period. It doesn’t really make sense, I mean, no one would argue that drinking enhances hand-eye coordination. I’m thinking it’s a mental thing–throwing more relaxed and not getting stressed about winning overmuch. Anyway, I just need to learn to keep my focus on the target and let the darts fly. And practice more.

No rain again today, so I did my morning walk up on the mountain.

Another long walk in the afternoon, still scouting a potential trail for the next time I Hare. Still lots to be done to put it all together.

Life is good.

UPDATE: Well, it seems I used “shows improvement” as the title to a post in February 2017. Back then, I was starting to feel better because the drugs prescribed for my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease were working. They still pretty much are, thank you very much!

A second place finish in darts last night. Not bad considering my partner Jerlyn is pretty much a rookie. Friday night had a similar outcome, except that after coming back through the loser’s bracket to play the team that put us there, we all agreed to just call it a tie, split the pot 50-50, and take our drunken asses home.

In other “news”…

I don’t have much else, but let me just dump some stuff I’ve found on Facebook and my wanderings around the internets…

Over in Thailand there was an unusual story of a foreigner fleecing a poor local. I mean, that’s pretty fucked up. The Thai local was a street food vendor. What’s worse than stealing from the poor? It’s almost always the other way around. I’ve been scammed a few times myself. You know, helping out a “friend” in need with a loan, never to be repaid. I mean, I get it. When you are living day-to-day and hand-to-mouth paying a debt to a “rich” foreigner is not going to be a priority. The shocking thing to me was that they didn’t even bother to give me an excuse, just broke off all contact. And these were people I had known for years. I’m obviously a horrible judge of character. So maybe I got lucky having dishonest people removed from my life. I’ll trust to Karma to extract a form of retribution on their lying asses as payment in full. Good riddance!

Three years ago I was putting on the last suit I ever expect to buy. Tailor-made of course!

Speaking of women, this was my gal three years ago (thanks for reminding me Facebook):

Also seen on FB today was this bulletin board posted in an American schoolhouse:

Speaking of language, I had never thought of this before:

I’ve always admired creative problem solving:

Although my breakfast this morning at Sit-n-Bull wasn’t exactly low carb either:

And finally, this is the second time I’ve used “sloppy seconds” as a post title. Back in April 2014 I also finished second in a darts tournament. And afterwards went out for a nice samgyeopsal dinner at my favorite place in Itaewon. With my wife, her daughter, and some friends. The next day we dined at Tabom Brazil with the esteemed Kevin Kim.

It never ceases to amaze me how everything in life can change. Not always in a good way, but we find a way to survive. Well, it feels more like dying and being reborn, if you get my meaning. Either way, it’s good to be alive! Let’s see what happens next.

Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon,
And half the night.
Tomorrow mornin’, I know there’ll be hell to pay,
Hey, but that’s all right.
I ain’t had a day off now in over a year.
My Jamaican vacation’s gonna start right here.
If the phone’s for me,
You can tell ’em I just sailed away.

And pour me somethin’ tall and strong,
Make it a “Hurricane” before I go insane.
It’s only half-past twelve but I don’t care.
It’s five o’clock somewhere.

I got a big smile from commenter Kevin Kim’s link to his review of the movie “Rush”; a film about the competition between racing greats James Hunt, an Englishman, and Niki Lauda from Austria. Kevin jokingly equated their epic battles to my struggles with my darts nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink.

Well, as fate would have it, I crossed swords darts with Steve again last night. This time it was in the 501 doubles tourney at Alley Cats bar. Steve is consistently better than me, but when I’m on my game I can hold my own with him. The wild card in doubles is who you draw as a partner, and last night my partner was a tad better than his. So in that sense it was a pretty equal match. Naturally we wound up facing off in the winners bracket, where me and Gerlie took a hard fought 2-1 victory. Steve and his partner came back through the loser’s bracket and we went at it again in the tourney finals. That match was about as close as it could be, but once again, Gerlie and I prevailed 2-1.

Or maybe we just got lucky. Speaking of Lucky:

I’m kidding of course. But Lucky has come a long way:

I’m not kidding about the dumb part. He truly is the stupidest dog I’ve ever owned. I love him anyway of course. But damn…

You better watch what you say
You better watch what you do to me
Don’t get carried away
Girl, if you can do better than me, go
Yeah, go, but remember

Good love is hard to find
Good love is hard to find
You got lucky, babe
You got lucky, babe, when I found you

You put a hand on my cheek
And then you turned your eyes away
If you don’t feel complete
If I don’t take you all of the way, then go
Yeah, go, but remember

Good love is hard to find
Good love is hard to find
You got lucky, babe
You got lucky, babe, when I found you

A rainy, nothing kind of day here in Barretto.

I’ve managed to squeeze out 15,000 steps, but I confined myself to the neighborhood. Talk about boring! Kind of like this post.

I played with my old dart league mates yesterday afternoon. The highlight (for me) was facing off against my nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink. We played singles Cricket, which was a first. In my opinion, Cricket requires more skill than the standard game of 501 that is usually played here. For one thing, only the specified numbers count (20-15 and the bullseye), so there is a minimum of “lucky” shots. There is also a strategy about what to throw when, and pointing. I actually wrote a pretty scholarly (for me) blog post on the subject.

Anyway, Steve is the superior player overall, but I started out on fire. And he really didn’t play a “smart” cricket game, chasing me on numbers I had closed instead of getting ahead on a number and throwing points. Even with all that in my favor it came down to who could hit the most bullseyes soonest. In the end I prevailed. Woot!

I put my new crockpot slow cooker to work again this morning:

They both turned out quite tasty if I do say so myself.

I was never a whiz at math, but I found this pretty damn funny:

I’ve been conscientiously working to avoid using repetitive titles on my blog posts. I know none of my readers remember such a mundane detail, but for some reason it matters to me. The “nada y nada” sounded familiar, so I did a quick search of the LTG archives and discovered I’ve used it twice previously.

In October 2014, I was alone in the states and missing my wife who kept promising to “join me soon”. Without her around to motivate me I was sinking into a pit of despair and loneliness, sometimes not leaving the house for days. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that she was never coming back to me.

In June 2009, I was living single in Seoul and was lamenting being between dart seasons. Big whoop. And oh yeah, the “pending change” I was alluding to in that post was nothing more than a redesign of the LTG masthead. Dealing with that kind of drama, I guess I didn’t know just how good I had it.

And here I am all these years later, still living a pretty solitary life. I’ve added walking to my darts and beer regimen, which of course is a good thing. I’m not complaining about my lot in this life. After all, I have a clean, well-lighted place to call home.

It is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music. Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was nothing too.

Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.

― Ernest Hemingway, A Clean Well Lighted Place

It seems to me that you are ultimately only as good as your partner. I’m talking about darts here, not life. Although, come to think of it… Nope, not going to go there.

Anyway, tournament last night at Alley Cats. As is the norm, it was a luck-of-the draw (aka “blind draw”) format. This means each of the participants draws a number and the two folks who draw the same number are paired up as doubles partners for the night. Sometimes this results in a disparate impact when two strong players are drawn together or two weak players are forced to compete. Still, it’s really the only fair way to treat all the players as everyone has an equal chance to get a partner of their liking.

I make mention of this process because last night I drew my nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner. Now, Steve is currently the best player in town. I’m probably in the top 5 when I bring some game with me. So there was a fair amount of whining as folks figured the best they could hope for was a second place finish. I do understand those feelings, but the only way to find out is to play the match. And that’s what we proceeded to do.

Oddly enough, being favored to win puts a whole other kind of pressure on you. Conversely, your opponents have nothing to lose and so play more relaxed. At least it felt that way to me last night. In our first match we lost the first leg, won the second handily, and had a nail biter in the the final leg before prevailing. Steve was throwing outstanding darts all night, I had my typical inconsistent game going on, but did hit some out shots and a few big scores.

As expected by everyone in the bar, we reached the finals undefeated in the winners bracket. We had another tough match that went all three legs before we took the victory and the 1000 peso first place money. It wasn’t easy at all though and really I have more fun when I don’t give a shit about winning or losing.

Enough about darts. Let’s talk about walking! I did my morning 10,000 steps on pavement, taking my Abra street route. I’m always aware when I’m up in the mountains about the hazards that surround me and how easy it would be suffer serious injury with one misstep. On the street you need to of course be careful of vehicular traffic and the like, but their are other perils as well.

The streets stay wet all the time during rainy season. And in areas where there is not much traffic a green algae-like substance grows. And that shit is just about as slick as a sheet of ice. This morning while I’m walking I’m faced with either stepping out into the street, walking through a puddle, or getting up on what passes for a sidewalk. The space was actually angled 20 degrees or so as it was also a driveway entrance. Well, I knew right away I had made a mistake because it was covered in the green slime. I tried to retreat but too late–I was down on my ass. All I hurt was my pride, thankfully. Oh, an my watchband broke. I sat there stewing in my stupidity when a trike driver stopped to see if I was okay. I assured him I was, but he helped me stand up anyway. Nice guy!

I made it back home without further incident. After a brief rest and a change of shorts, I walked to Lourdes hospital for my scheduled eye doctor appointment. Afterwards I walked the length of Baloy Beach road and returned home with nearly 22,000 steps before noon!

I like my ophthalmologist, you might say we see eye-to-eye on things. *ahem*. The good news is my infections have cleared up so I don’t have to keep putting the antibiotic gunk in my eyes. He did say I’m showing early signs of cataracts. Not a problem now, but something to keep an eye on (there I go again!). The Doc suggested I wear my sunglasses when I’m outside as somehow bright sunlight can exacerbate cataract growth. I’ll come back in six months for another checkup.

What else? Well, apparently someone at Divimart read my post mocking their signage and abbreviations.

I hope they carry slow cookers. My efforts to find a replacement have been unsuccessful thus far. For whatever reason they are just not a popular cooking method here. I even did the big online shopping service, Lazada (the PI Amazon). An lo and behold, they had one listed just like the one I have (well, I have half of one now, but you know what I mean). I experienced some sticker shock at 6250 pesos ($125), more than twice what I paid for mine. But what are you going to do? Started filling out the shipping information and it turns out I can have it flown in for $100 and get it the first week in September. Or I can ship it by sea for $40 dollars and receive it at the end of October. I opted for the “fuck it, I’ll keep looking” option.

Meanwhile, the Philippines has passed a law that makes most of my drunk jokes illegal. Bastos means “rude” in Tagalog.

In other news, it turns out I’m an “extreme lark”. I wake up every morning between 5 and 6 a.m. I’m almost always in bed by 10 p.m. Pretty interesting article at the link, give it a read. I kind of like that according to neuroscience I’m a lark. All this time I figured I was just a tired old man!

And finally, in the category of one less thing to worry about–remember those ISIS terrorists I mentioned a while back? Turns out it was the father of one of the female suspects who made the accusation. Not because she’s a terrorist, but because he didn’t like the boy she was dating. It’s a crazy world out there, that’s for sure.

I did such a damn fine job getting my steps in today I think I’ll reward myself with a nice massage. Then I’ll drink some beers. Life is good!

…place finish in last night’s dart tournament. Lost out again to my nemesis Steve The Englishman Who Doesn’t Drink again. We do a “luck of the draw” format, so you never know who you will get for a partner. Steve drew Christy, probably the overall best female player in town. I got Billy who can give Christy a run for the money when she is on her game. So going in to the tourney I was thinking realistically the best we could hope for was second. Sure enough, Steve and Christy knocked us into the losers bracket and finished us off in the championship match. Still, we played them close and actually had the opportunity to beat them had we hit our out shots more consistently. Fun times!

Just to be clear, I rag on Steve not drinking (here, not to him personally) but I honestly don’t care. I don’t know his circumstances at all and it is none of my business regardless. It’s just unusual is all. Darts is primarily a pub game and most players imbibe, but obviously there is no requirement to drink. Do I think it gives him an “unfair” advantage playing sober? Nope, not really. I was sucking down San Mig Zero bottles all night and perhaps threw my best darts in the finals. I’m not sure why that is, certainly drinking does not improve hand/eye coordination. I suspect it is more about throwing relaxed and not overthinking the shots. Who knows? Who cares? It’s a game and I play for the fun of it. Winning is just icing on the cake.

Saw an eye doctor this morning at Lourdes hospital. Friendly and talkative guy, and gave me a good, non-rushed exam. As I suspected, I do have an infection in both eyes but the doc says it is not a severe case at this point. He gave me some antibiotic cream and some eye drops and told me to come back in a week. Hopefully this stuff does the trick. Oh, and total cost of the visit, including meds? 1260 pesos (less than $25).

The weather turned wild and windy last night and continues on today. Apparently this is the reason:

Anyway, the problem with the wind and the rain is that it renders an umbrella pretty much useless. Ah well. I did manage to get my morning steps in at least. This afternoon is looking kind of iffy. Nothing like the joy of rainy season in the tropics, eh?

Who’s peeking out from under a stairway
Calling a name that’s lighter than air?
Who’s bending down to give me a rainbow?
Everyone knows it’s Windy

Who’s tripping down the streets of the city
Smiling at everybody she sees?
Who’s reaching out to capture a moment?
Everyone knows it’s Windy

And Windy has stormy eyes
That flash at the sound of lies
And Windy has wings to fly
Above the clouds (Above the clouds)
Above the clouds (Above the clouds)

…place in last night’s tournament. I had a weak partner and I was throwing poorly. Oddly enough, the more I play (and practice) the worse I seem to get. Ah well, I’m trying to keep it fun regardless. We normally don’t even pay out to fifth place but there was an unusually large turnout for the event.

Not a whole lot much of anything else going on really. I guess a Hash tradition is to have patches made up for big events and as a token of your Hash namesake. After 100 runs our kennel provides a personalized vest where folks sew on the various patches they’ve acquired in their Hashing career.

And so dear readers, which one should I adopt as my personal symbol to be worn proudly on Hash vests throughout the world?

Meanwhile, here’s a news article on the unfortunate suicide/crime that is rocking Barretto.

And finally, as expected, the Mueller testimony was a big dud. Liberal tears are falling like rain. Even Hitler is not happy about it! (sorry, for some reason I could not embed the video. The link will take you there. Funny stuff!)

https://captiongenerator.com/1467792/Hitler-Discovers-Robert-Mueller-Knows-Nothing

Reckon I’ll do a haircut and a massage this afternoon. Nothing like living the life, eh?

Here come old flat top
He come grooving up slowly
He got joo joo eyeball
He one holy roller
He got hair down to his knee
Got to be a joker he just do what you please.

He wear no shoe shine
He got toe jam football
He got monkey finger
He shoot Coca-Cola
He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free
Cum together right now over me

He bag production
He got walrus gumboot
He got Ono sideboard
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee
Hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease
Cum together right now over me

He roller coaster
He got early warning
He got Muddy Water
He one Mojo filter
He say. “One and one and one is three”
Got to be good looking ’cause he so hard to see
Cum together right now over me

(I took the liberty of correcting Mr. Lennon’s spelling of “cum”

Had a bit of a catastrophe in the kitchen this morning. Came home from my morning walk and decided I’d throw some meatballs in the crockpot for dinner tonight. Now, when it comes to cooking I try to do things the easy way. And my meatballs are no exception to that rule.

So, I proceeded to get the pre–made meatballs out of the freezer and dumped them into the slow cooker. Added some seasoning and spices then doused them in spaghetti sauce. Plugged the crockpot into the 220-110 transformer and turned it on. Nothing. What the hell? I moved the transformer to another outlet and tried again. Nope. So I figured it must be a blown fuse or something, but nothing I could do about it now.

But what to do with the meatball concoction? I figured I’d go old school, and got the big pot off the shelf. I tried to pour the meatballs from the slow cooker directly into the pot and splashed sauce all over my shirt, my shorts, my socks, and the floor. Damn it! So anyway, I get what’s left into the pot, put it on the stove, and turn on the burner. Except the electric igniter (it’s a gas stove) wasn’t functioning. And then I realized just how truly stupid I can be. The transformer and the stove ignition wouldn’t work because we were experiencing a power outage again. Geez.

Well, I lit the stove with a lighter, set it on low, and laid down to catch 40 winks. I guess it was more like 400 because I napped for an hour. When I came downstairs my helper advised that I had burnt the meatballs. Aw well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be. The dogs will be eating good though I reckon.

Last night I played darts and finished in third place. That’s not bad considering I had a rookie for a partner. New gal named Faith, she’s Steve the non-drinking Englishman dart player’s girlfriend. I know he’s been training her up and I think she’ll be a good darter one day. Just inconsistent right now. She did throw a couple of double out shots though, so I’m not complaining.

I threw pretty decent overall, notwithstanding my failure to practice. I get teased sometimes because I will occasionally talk out loud to myself, saying things like “John, you gotta focus here” or “John, you got this out shot”. You know, just a little pep talk. Well, it turns out that talking to yourself in the second person is a scientifically proven way to improve performance.

Athletes who urge themselves on using the second person are more likely to triumph, new research has found.

Sportsmen and women have a greater chance of success if at the critical moment they say to themselves “you can do it” rather than “I can do it”, the study revealed.

And don’t you dare try and argue that darters aren’t “athletes”. Anyway, the bottom line is I had fun and that’s what it is all about. I guess the next time I tell myself “John, you need to practice your darts” I’ll try not to say “shut the fuck up, I’m blogging now”.

And another thing I did today rather than practice darts was answer this question on Quora: Have you ever immigrated from a wealthy country to a less wealthy country? Why?

I retired and moved to the Philippines a little over a year ago. I am an American but had been living and working for several years in Korea prior to moving here.

Why? Because it is a beautiful country filled with wonderful people. And my pension goes a lot further here than it would in the USA.

I remember my very first visit to the Philippines as a tourist back in 2008. I was shocked by the in your face poverty, even in the capital city of Manila. I’d never seen anything like it. The next thing I observed was how happy the Filipino people were despite being poor. Even with so little, Filipinos are also very generous. If one person is the family has 1000 pesos they will gladly share with a family member who has none, knowing that their kindness will be repaid when the situation is reversed.

Are there frustrations with living in a third world country? Hell yes! Bad infrastructure, unreliable utilities, shoddy craftsmanship, and spotty service are things you will frequently encounter. And if you can’t handle that you should definitely not live here. I used to get frustrated quite often until a girlfriend here taught me this mantra: “Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way.” I use it often and it seems to work.

A couple of years before I retired I brought a Korean woman I was dating with me for a visit. We had a great time but on our last night she told me she was breaking up with me. I was astounded and asked her why. She told me “We don’t have a future together. You want to retire and move here. Who wants to live in a poor country?” I responded that I can move to the Philippines and make a difference for at least some of the people here. You can live in your rich country and pretend this world does not exist. I want to make a difference.

I guess in my own small way I have. I have hired two domestic helpers and a driver that might otherwise be unemployed. I support a small orphanage where I live. And I’ve helped out some other folks in need on occasion. That’s a good feeling.

I’ll take the life I’m building here over a boring and vanilla lifestyle in the USA any day. It is far from perfect but I have no regrets.

Now I reckon I’ll reward myself with a nice dinner. I’m thinking the Arizona resort might just be the ticket. Peace out!

Just back from a seven hour brownout here. My helper says it was a scheduled power outage, but I hadn’t seen or heard about it. Well, while I was out walking this afternoon I did see the electric company was clearing branches from the wires. Hopefully that maintenance will prevent longer and unexpected outages down the road. Made for a hot and sweaty time both inside and outside today. Oh well.

Yesterday’s hike with the Sausage Walkers turned out to be a wet one. We met up at Angel’s Bakery as usual and saw the clouds forming, but decided to take our chances anyway. And spent most of the trek in a downpour. Still, I led the first portion of the hike over the trail I’m planning for the Hash on July 22. I was glad to have an opportunity to see how it would hold up on a wet day. And it turns out it wasn’t bad at all. Good to know!

So there’s this gal, Rheangelyne (Rheya for short), that I recently added to my friends list on Facebook. A few months ago she came on a few of the Wednesday walks and one or two Hashes with her German boyfriend, Dirk. Dirk is now back in his country for a few months. I actually found Rheya via a dating website I occasionally visit.

Anyway, she wanted to go hiking again so I invited her out. She seemed to enjoy herself despite the rain. She apparently likes making YouTube videos of her adventures and invited me to subscribe to her channel. Of course, I did. Now, the quality of her work needs some improvement, but here’s the one from yesterday’s hike. It’s only a little over three minutes long and gives a flavor of the hike anyway.

And here’s the route we took:

Last night I played some darts at Alley Cats and threw pretty decent. Good enough for a first place finish anyway. Imagine what I might accomplish if I actually practiced occasionally?

I’m going to share some insights on a cultural aspect of the Philippines, but not today. I need to take a shower now. It’s beer o’clock.