It was lightly sprinkling when I departed home for the Hash trail. My plan was to hike to the start and then decide where to go from there. As fate would have it, as I headed up the backway to Rizal Extension, I encountered the tell-tale markings that told me I had intersected with the Hare’s intended path. So, I followed it from there. There was a good climb on a trail I don’t recall hiking before, and it eventually led to a junction with the familiar My Bitch trail. The Hare, Leech My Nuggets, did another down and up, which I chose to avoid, but soon enough, I was back on track. I followed the markings the rest of the way to the On-Home venue at Bella Monte Hotel. Both mine and the Hare’s trail came in at just under 5K, but that was plenty given the weather.

Another Monday, another Hash. Wet with rain instead of sweat, but it all feels the same when it’s over.

Monday’s report card: 11,670 steps, 8.97 kilometers walked, 3,667 calories burned.

From the LTG archives in April 2009, I wrote about some happenstance on the streets of DC, where I attended a work-related conference. Howard is another friend I’ve long ago lost touch with. That seems to be a recurring theme in The Story of My Life.

Today’s YouTube video features Reekay giving the sound advice to not let stupid people fuck up your life. Hmm, maybe that explains my lack of friends. Or maybe I’m the stupid one?

And get your Zen while it lasts:

A Clear Conscience Is Usually The Sign Of A Bad Memory.

The jokes are on me:

Another golden oldie:

Joe was moderately successful in his career, but as he got older he was increasingly hampered by terrible headaches. When his personal hygiene and love life started to suffer, he sought medical help.

After being referred from one specialist to another, he finally came across a doctor who solved the problem. “The good news is I can cure your headaches. The bad news is that it will require castration. You have a very rare condition which causes your testicles to press up against the base of your spine. The pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.”

Joe was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to go under the knife.

When he left the hospital, his mind was clear, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself. As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a new beginning and live a new life.

He walked past a men’s clothing store and thought, “That’s what I need, a new suit.” He entered the shop and told the salesman, “I’d like a new suit.”

The salesman eyed him briefly and said, “Let’s see… size 44 long.”

Joe laughed, “That’s right, how did you know?”

“It’s my job.”

Joe tried on the suit. It fit perfectly. As Joe admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked, “How about a new shirt?”

Joe thought for a moment and then said, “Sure!”

The salesman eyed Joe and said, “Let’s see,… 34 sleeve and… 16 and a half neck.”

Joe was surprised, “That’s right, how did you know?”

“It’s my job.”

Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly. As Joe adjusted the collar in the mirror, the salesman asked, “How about new shoes?”

Joe was on a roll and said, “Sure!”

The salesman eyed Joe’s feet and said, “Let’s see…9 and a half wide.”

Joe was astonished, “That’s right, how did you know?”

“It’s my job.”

Joe tried on the shoes and they fit perfectly. Joe walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, “How about a new hat?”

Without hesitating, Joe said, “Sure!”

The salesman eyed Joe’s head and said, “Let’s see. . . 7 5/8.”

Joe was incredulous, “That’s right, how did you know?”

“It’s my job.”

The hat fit perfectly. Joe was feeling great, when the salesman asked, “How about some new underwear?”

Joe thought for a second and said, “Sure!”

The salesman stepped back, eyed Joe’s waist and said, “Let’s see… size 36.”

Joe laughed, “No, I’ve worn size 34 since I was 18 years old.”

The salesman shook his head and said, “You can’t wear a size 34. It would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache!”

I went out and bought some 2XL underwear today. Seriously. It’s not the dick, it’s the balls.

That’s all, folks! For today, anyway.

Of all the bands I ever saw perform live, ELO was the best.

I went around about from my house getting to the start of yesterday’s Hash trail, and I was dripping sweat when I arrived. Along the way, I ran into the Hare, Vienna Sausage, who was heading back after finishing marking the trail. He told me the climb up to Kalaklan Ridge he’d selected wasn’t steep. I believed him, but I wasn’t feeling like making it, so I’ll give it a try another day. Instead, I elected to do a long street walk around Barretto to Johansson’s, the On-Home venue. My trail was longer (7.5K) than the Hare’s (6.5K), but much flatter.

Back-to-back Hashes are over and done with. Not bad for an elderly man.

Monday’s report card: 14,362 steps, 11.04 kilometers, and 3,602 calories burned.

On my journey through the LTG archives, I was surprised that February 2009 was completely devoid of posts. I knew something must have happened, and this post from March 2009 reminded me what it was. Someone purchased my then domain (johnmccrarey.com), and it took me several weeks to straighten out that mess. And that’s how mccrarey.com was born. What a fiasco that was!

From Facebook memories, I’m reminded that three years ago, I had a date with Joy:

Today’s YouTube video is one I found linked on another blog (sorry, I can’t remember which one now) where Queers for Palestine protesters are interviewed during a demonstration. Well, it proved to be a demonstration of their ignorance. If you have three minutes to spare, look and see for yourself.

A moment of Zen:

Remember, Half The People You Know Are Below Average.

And maybe you’ll like these:

And that’s all he wrote. Poorly, no doubt.

T-R-A-I-L

Shitty trail (it sucked!)
Shitty trail (it really sucked!)
The Hares have laid another shitty trail
I would rather drink this beer than run your shitty trail
S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L

That’s the lyrics to the actual Hash song we sing to the Hares each week. Sometimes it applies more than others. The only thing wrong with yesterday’s Hash trail was some poor marking. That resulted in some of us taking a wrong turn and climbing an unintended hill. Apparently, we followed an old trail marking that should have been obliterated, or fresh powder showing the proper way should have been dumped to prevent the confusion. Oh well, if that’s the most this grumpy old Hasher has to complain about, things are pretty close to dandy. Rather than retreat at the top of the faux hill, we took an alternate way down, then made the rest of the journey to the On-Home along Govic Highway. Not the most pleasant route on a hot day, but you do what you gotta do.

Then the usual after-Hash revelry at It Doesn’t Matter to end the day.

Pubic Head (Scott) was missed at the Hash, but I’m happy to report he has been freed from hospital confinement. I saw him this morning at the Ulticare Hospital in Barretto where he was consulting with the cardiology folks. Hope they can cure whatever it is that ails him, but thankfully, he is showing no signs of stroke damage.

I also learned last night that another Hasher, 18-Kilo Ass (Martin) was severely injured in a motorcycle accident. Lots of broken bones, including a leg, but he’s still in the fight.

And in yet more bad news, I learned today that Joakim, the owner of Sloppy Joe’s bar, passed away last night.

I’ll give the political memes a rest today.

This post from the July 2007 LTG archives recounts a wild trip to the USA that started in Florida and finished in California with stops in Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. I’m thinking I haven’t been back to most of those places since then. Sadly, the photos I shared in a separate post from that trip are gone now. I still haven’t figured out what happened. And so goes another memory from The Story of My Life.

Some other memories from this day in history:

In the end, she proved to be too crazy, even for me.

Those were the days my friend, we thought they’d never end…

Today’s YouTube video brings us back to the present and some of the crazy stuff you see in the Philippines. Going on seven years here now, but I still haven’t seen it all. I did get to experience witnessing the eating off of banana tree leaves with the fingers thing recently.

And now for some funny business:

And there you have if from the survivor of another Hash. Now to get on with the rest of my life.

Through the door there came familiar laughter
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we're older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes, those were the days

No surprise, I wussed out and didn’t make the climb up Easter Mountain at yesterday’s Hash. Not that I need any excuses, but it was hot as hell and I just wasn’t feeling it. That said, the “bypass” trail still had a significant up on the backside of the mountain, with an elevation gain of 100 meters. The photo above was taken from that trail; as you can see, we were nearly halfway to the top. Granted, our climb was not as steep and intense as the summit trail, but it was more than enough for me.

So, I had one of those surprises that occasionally occur as a little-read blogger. I’m a member of the Angeles City Hash Facebook group, but I seldom go there. But yesterday, a post from there came up in my feed:

I was very kindly sent a link to a post by a Subic Bay Hasher/Blogger talking about, what he called a Ballbuster Trail, that I (Facilitator) & Brain Dead set on the 16th March 2025, in the Holyland Area of San Martin. I have included a small extract from the post below, and have also included a link to the full article, which contains some interesting photos.

This is the excerpt he quoted:

So, that’s not being critical, the trail was just more difficult than I expected. I did have some complaints in that post about the way some Hash procedures were conducted, but feedback is a gift, right? I just checked back on the AC Hash page, and no one has commented, so I assume no one took offense at the perspectives I shared. This is the post in question.

When I first started this blog over twenty years ago, the name “Long Time Gone” was meant to capture the blog’s intended purpose of staying in touch with friends and family back home as I embarked on what was planned to be a two-year exodus to Korea. I had the CSNY song in mind when I came up with the name. Then the hated Dixie Chicks came out with a song by that name, and I didn’t want anyone to think this blog supported those treasonous bitches. By chance, I found an old song Bob Dylan did in 1962 also called Long Time Gone, and in this post from March 2007, I declared it the official song of my blog—full lyrics in the post.

Facebook memories for today:

Thirteen years ago, I posted this clip from a 1940 Bob Hope movie. As true now as it was back then. Worth the 30 seconds to watch it:

Today’s YouTube video concerns the biggest slum in Manila, the Tondo district. Never been there and never want to go. I’ve grown accustomed to the rural poverty that surrounds me. The people are friendly, and I don’t feel unsafe, but it is still sad to witness the harshness of their lives.

Today’s dose of what I call humor:

Another day, another post. Welcome to all my new readers from Angeles City!

So you can have your beauty,
It’s skin deep and it only lies.
And you can have your youth,
It’ll rot before your eyes.
Just give to me my gravestone
With it clearly carved upon:
“I’s a long time a-comin’,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.”

We butchered the Hash trail yesterday, cutting it down to a size more appropriate for the heat index. Adding in the 2K journey from my house to the start, it was just about right, with one hill climb and some fresh scenery. Here, see for yourself:

If ignorance is bliss, there are lots of happy leftards out there. They can’t handle the truth.

In today’s stroll through the LTG archives, I visited a clean, well-lighted place in December 2006. That’s also the title of one of my favorite short stories by Ernest Hemingway. It ain’t long; give it a read here if you want. Anyway, the post is mostly about one of those unforgettable Itaewon nights (which I had forgotten until I re-read the post). The June gal featured finally found a good man a few years later, moved to the States, and is a happy mother (we are still friends on Facebook). I’m also impressed by my capacity to stay out drinking until three in the morning all those years ago. Those days are long gone for me now, and the occasional staying out until 9 p.m. is about as wild as I get nowadays. Itaewon will always have a place in The Story of My Life.

Eight years ago, I posted this conundrum on Facebook:

Also from eight years ago:

I decided I wanted to retire in the Philippines, and y’all have seen what happens when a wish comes true. I have no regrets about the life I have chosen, and I had no choice about losing the life I loved in Korea. And so it goes.

In today’s YouTube video, the vlogger asserts that Filipino culture is beginning to dominate throughout Asia. I live here, so maybe I missed seeing this happen. Anyone else out there notice a Filipino spin on things?

These smiles are yours for the taking:

Yep, I did it again! A post a day keeps the readers away! Except for the precious few that are gluttons for my punishment. Thanks for that!

I heard this song again yesterday for the first time in a long time. Thanks Jimi!

Some like it long.

A lot more comments than usual on yesterday’s post. As always, I appreciate your feedback. Many of the shared thoughts expressed some concern about my alcohol consumption and its potential for negatively impacting my life. I see myself as maintaining control for the most part, and I don’t consider my drinking to be a problem. I know, I know, spoken like a true alcoholic in the throes of denial. But this is the life I’ve chosen, and I will continue to imbibe at or near my current level within the parameters (usually between 5 and 8 p.m.) I’ve established for myself. It’s what I do and what I enjoy, and I hope to live long and die hard.

So, this post is supposed to be about yesterday’s Hash; now, let’s get back to that. Yesterday’s trail was the first Hared by Kermit the Frog, at least for Subic Bay H3. I heard a rumor that he laid a trail so difficult in Angeles City that they banned him from Hareing there in the future. I’m not going to say that our trail yesterday was as bad as all that, but it was long (over 10K) with three significant climbs, including Easter Mountain. I was shocked to see how long our strongest and fastest Hashers took to finish; a couple of them didn’t make it back until the Circle was over. I heard quite a bit of bitching and moaning about both the difficulty and poor marking of the trail. I will give Hare Kermit credit for providing three trail options: a long one with Easter Mountain, a long one without Easter Mountain, and a short version with only the first climb. Of course, as a dedicated shortcutter, I managed to avoid all three hill climbs and had a mostly enjoyable 8.5-kilometer flat walk. That’s just the way I roll!

Some after-Hash revelry at It Doesn’t Matter where I purchased a lady drink for the IDM girls who participated in the Fralics beauty pageant on Sunday. Then I drug my tired ass home with the help of a tricycle.

My interesting (to me) journey through the LTG archives continues. What’s been different about the early days of the blog was my inconsistency in posting. These days, I take pride in providing a daily update on my so-called life. In July 2006, “Stuff about things” was my first post in over thirty days. I had a lot of catching up to do, so it was appropriately long and boring.

Fifteen years ago, I came across a clip from the movie “Junior Bonner,” which triggered some memories from my life in Prescott, Arizona, in the early 1980s. So, I shared those thoughts on Facebook, and Facebook reminded me about them today. Thanks for helping an old guy out!

I wound up taking a trip today. Right down memory lane. I saw something on the internet that led me somewhere else and then took me to a link for Steve McQueen. I clicked that and was reminded of the movie Junior Bonner. It was filmed in Prescott, Arizona. I used to live in Prescott. The song that played during the opening credits was “Arizona Morning” by Rod Hart, a musician from Prescott. Hart and his band used to play at the Wagon Wheel, a club I’d frequent when the urge to country dance hit me. And then I recalled a woman I used to dance with and how I met her. I was taking classes at Yavapai Community College, and she was my instructor. One day after class, she asked if anyone was interested in taking “country swing” dance lessons with her, and I volunteered. She was probably ten years older than me (I was 25). We got along great, and before long, we were doing horizontal dancing as well. Until one day she asked me to father a child for her “no strings attached”. That freaked me out big time, and I ran for the hills, leaving her and her biological clock in my dust. I hadn’t thought of her for some 30-odd years. Until today, when I heard this song:

Morning, Arizona morning
Almost sets me free
Makes me glad to be alive
Wondering, why I started wandering
Should have stayed right here
Underneath the clear blue skies

Sadness, changing now to gladness
With the rustle of the breeze through the pinyon trees
Where I lay
In the morning, Arizona morning
A place where I can smile
And see a hundred miles away

The birds are flying high above the morning
Singing to the colors of the dawn
And in my mind I hear a gentle warning
You've been a wrangler and a rambler
Much too long

And a rover. Wishing it was over
All my battles won, resting in the sun this way
In the morning, Arizona morning
Coming home today, wishing I could stay
Wishing I could stay.

What a life I’ve lived! I hope there are some more chapters to come.

Today’s YouTube video discloses that twenty US F-16 fighters have deployed to the Philippines, and China isn’t happy about it. Well, I’m no military expert, but I don’t think twenty of our older jets will be much of a deterrent, but it’s better than nothing. I read somewhere of an intelligence report saying China will invade Taiwan within the next six months. Damn, looks like we are headed for interesting times.

Laugh while you can!

And there you have it: another day, another post. I won’t apologize, and you don’t need to thank me. I will try to keep ’em coming!

First things first, and today is the 1st, so here you go:

And me being me, I posted this on my Facebook page this morning:

To hell with it. I’m going to the airport and getting on a plane. Don’t even care where it is going, first jet out to anywhere. When I get to wherever I wind up, I’ll max out my credit cards, drain my savings account, and then decide what to do next. I won’t be back. Goodbye, Philippines!

Most people figured out pretty quickly that I was just fooling around.

Anyway, about that Hash we did yesterday. As I suspected, the trail was a Corona-style monster. How bad was it? Even some of the strongest runners were bitching about some of the treacherous portions they encountered along the way. I’ll have to take their word for it because our sane group received an advance copy of the trail map, and we successfully navigated our way around the worst portions of the path. I still managed to get in over 6K and had a pleasant enough journey, most of which was on the familiar My Bitch trail.

This was the first time we’d used Kim’s for a gathering. I’d suggested we give it a try, and I was a little worried whether they’d be able to accommodate over fifty Hashers. But it all seemed to go well. Here’s a short (less than three minutes) video to give you a taste of what Kim’s Place is like:

Not a bad way to spend the day!

It’s been interesting (to me) as I scroll through the LTG archives in search of stories worthy of inclusion in The Story of My Life. I’ve made to March 2006 so far, and what strikes me is that even back in my early days as a blogger, my posts were inane drivel about my daily activities. Once a diary, always a diary, I suppose. Anyway, I began playing darts competitively the month before, and I discovered that I had some talent for the game. In this post, I recount the tale of winning money for the first time in a tournament. Yeah, as exciting as it sounds!

Fifteen years ago, I posted some photos of my father on Facebook. He’d just opened an account there and needed a profile picture. I posted some that I had and asked folks to weigh in on the ones they liked best. There were my favorites:

Sadly, my father passed away just over a year later.

I found today’s YouTube video amusing. I’m in no position to argue with a Filipina about what Filipinas don’t like, but advising men not to speak Tagalog seems over the top. She goes about explaining why in a humorous way (and in less than five minutes). I must have found the exception to the rule with Swan, as she is always encouraging me to learn new words in her language.

And then there are these:

And so it goes, on and on. Thanks for letting me share the joy.

Another day, another Hash I lived to tell about. I’d never hiked out in this area of Floridablanca, so everything was fresh and new. I always enjoy that. Leech My Nuggets told us the trail was an easy 6K and mostly flat. I guess everything is relative. It was definitely easier than the trail I did on Sunday with the Angeles Hash. And if by flat the Hare meant only a 176-meter altitude gain, then yeah, it was flat. *cough* bullshit *cough* Anyway, I made it through the entire trail and enjoyed it for the most part. Here’s some of what I saw along the way:

Swan made a nice ten-minute video of some of the hike highlights:

Speaking of which, I forgot to share her video from Sunday’s Hash with the Angeles group. It’s longer (21 minutes), so you may want to speed it up.

In August 2005, I traveled home from Korea and met my first grandchild, a nice addition to The Story of My Life. It’s hard to believe she is twenty years old now.

The only Facebook memory from today worthy of note is a joke I posted thirteen years ago. It’s still funny:

A priest offered a lift to a Nun.

She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg.

The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.

The nun said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest removed his hand.

But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again.

The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.”

Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way.

On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129.

It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”

Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.

In today’s YouTube video, the vlogger discusses the reasons behind what he contends is a mass exodus of expats leaving the Philippines. I’m aware of a few folks who have chosen to depart for various reasons, but the vast majority of people I know are happy with their life here, as am I.

And now for the funny business:

And on that note, we’ll call an end to today’s madness. It’s nice to get out of town for a change of scenery, and it is also good to be home enjoying my routines. Shopping’s done, and Baloy Beach is next on my to-do list. Tell you all about it tomorrow.

Damn, I can’t remember the last time I heard this song. Listening to it again, it sounds like something Trump would say:

After all my bad-mouthing of the Corona Hash, maybe it was Karma that nailed me to the cross on yesterday’s Angeles Hash. There were two options: a short 3.5K trail described as boring and a 5.5K long trail with a hill. Knowing that the Angeles Hash isn’t famous for challenging hikes, my Subic contingent took the long trail. And that resulted in my come to Jesus moment. The “hill” was a 200-meter climb, very steep in places, and often the dirt was soft and offered little traction. I can’t remember ever having to crawl on my hands and knees to overcome gravity before, but I experienced it yesterday. We all made it to the top eventually, greeted our savior, then headed back down the other side (which was mostly paved). We had one more short up before we reached the On-Home, which felt like icing on the cake. Lesson learned: not all Angeles City Hash trails are walks in the park.

I do have some quibbles, however. We were told to be at the Premier Hotel (just a few blocks from where we are staying) no later than 1:45 to sign up and catch the Jeepneys that were leaving for the trail start at 2 p.m. No one was there to sign us in, though, and one of the Angeles Hashers said we could pay at the Circle. That’s fine, and at two o’clock, we loaded into three waiting Jeepneys and took a forty-five minute ride out of town. Upon arrival, we noted that all the Hashers who had driven their cars had already started the trail. The Hare wasn’t there to offer guidance, and no one warned us of what was in store for those who chose the long option. The trail was not well-marked in places, and at the top of the hill we climbed, there was a U-turn that we should have been told about in advance. It took my group about 2.5 hours to finish the trail, and the circle was almost over when we arrived. I had just finished my first beer, and everyone started loading up in their vehicles to depart. But our Jeepneys were nowhere in sight. No one bothered to mention during the circle that the hill was too steep for a loaded Jeepney, so we had to carry our shit up to the Jeepneys before they departed. Undoubtedly, we would have been left behind if we hadn’t rushed up the hill in search of the Jeepneys. Anyway, rant over. It just took the fun out of the day.

In the worst spots, I was clinging on for dear life and couldn’t snap photos.

Once we got back to town, we headed to the hotel for a quick shower, then out again for some grub.

We did our nightcap at a bar called Black Satin. It was a typical dancer bar, but there seemed to be a good crowd for a Sunday evening. We handed out lollipops for the girls and it was nice to watch them suck (without paying for it). Then it was time to call it a night (another late one for me, almost 9:30!).

Today’s entry from the LTG archives is from August 2005, with photos from my visit to New York City, a place I’m unlikely to ever see again, at least in person. It looks like I had a good time.

From Facebook memories, seven years ago, I was climbing mountains in Asan, Korea:

And five years ago, this madness invaded my Philippines life:

I’m in jail it seems:

Enhanced Community Quarantine

24-hour CURFEW for EVERYONE

All public transport is suspended

You may go out ONLY to buy basic needs.

Work and school are suspended.

Restaurants are CLOSED. Only deliveries and take out are allowed, no eating in the restaurant.

Serious resistance or disobedience will subject the offender to arrest.

All the bars closed and stuck at home. What’s a fella to do?

Today’s YouTube video features Reekay telling the sad story of a friend who married a narcissist. It didn’t end well.

The funny business:

Alright, I’ve got another Hash to do today. The drive from here to Floridablanca is thirty minutes or so. Not sure what to expect from the trail today or what terrain we will encounter. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Welp, my version of the Hash trail almost qualified as enjoyable. It began with a long, steady climb, which is never my idea of fun, but the fact that I’d never done that portion of the trail before made it easier to take. Coming back down from the top was quite steep in places, but the worst part was those pesky vines that like to wrap around your ankles and trip you up. I had a few stumbles because of them, but I never hit the ground. The Hare, Leech My Nuggets, had another big climb laid out towards the end of the trail, but our sane group avoided it with a street walk through Calapacuan instead. We did 6.5K, and that was plenty!

Next week we are doing an Outstation Hash in Floridablanca. That’s about halfway between Subic and Angeles City. I’ll be spending the weekend in Angeles and Hashing with the AC Hash on Sunday. Looking forward to getting out of town again.

I’m still struggling with learning to say no to seconds.

Today’s entry from the LTG archives is a post honoring my son on his twenty-seventy birthday. Today he turns forty-seven.

The last vlog I’ve seen from John was this one from a year ago.

I don’t bother much with Grammarly these days, not that it ever did my any good anyway. I still have my premium subscription and with that comes an occasional report card. Today the emailed me my weekly fuckups:

I’m still poking and prodding on Facebook:

The best thing about today’s YouTube video is that it is only four minutes long. The vlogger’s accented voice is sometimes hard to understand, but his point about being able to eat cheap here (a dollar a day) is true. Lucky thing, too, given the poverty that permeates this country.

Humor time:

And on that note, we will declare today’s post at its blissful end. I hope to be back tomorrow with more of my usual crapola.

So, about that Hash run yesterday. The Hare was Keep The Change, and I’d never done one of his trails before. I’d seen his posts on Facebook about Hash trails he’s done in Angeles City, so when I discovered he would be our Hare, I figured I would be in trouble. He makes Vienna Sausage, the most notorious Hare in Subic, look like a lightweight. I only did a portion of the ass-kicker, and then our “sane” group made our own way. So, it was a steep climb halfway up Kalaklan Ridge, and then we bailed and took a different path back down. I hiked the 2K to the start, so I managed a healthy six kilometers for the day.

We initiated a virgin Hasher. I don’t think she understood what was going on, but I made a video of the cringe anyway.

Damn, that was painful to watch. Sorry!

After consuming my fill of Zeros, I grabbed Swan and we headed for home. My resistance was weak and I couldn’t say no to the dessert I was offered.

My Facebook memories took me on an interesting journey through the past today.

I hired on as a letter carrier with the Postal Service in 1976.

My next promotion as a labor relations representative took me to Columbia, SC.

Despite those accomplishments, I did not graduate from USC.

This life of mine has been quite a ride. In February 2017, I wrote a post about resolving a dilemma and its painful results. It is a sad but worthy entry in The Story of My Life. All these years later, I still can’t bear to watch the video I included in that post.

Today’s YouTube video discusses plans to upgrade the former American Navy base in Subic to serve as a deterrent to Chinese aggression. Good luck with that. I’ve long felt that China is the biggest threat to freedom in the world today. Whether Trump can convince China to back off remains to be seen. Being killed during a Chinese invasion of the Philippines remains in the top ten ways I might die here.

Your daily dose of humor:

That’s just about enough for one day, doncha think? Heading up to The Rite Spot later for a gathering with some of the neighbors. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it tomorrow. Y’all come back now.

Yesterday’s Hash outing was an enjoyable, albeit mostly familiar, trail. The Hares were all female Hashers (Gash), but they still managed to chart a course I found worthy of shortcutting (I didn’t do the Black Rock climb at the end). Even so, it was a good 6.5K journey for me. That’s plenty on a hot day.

I tried my hand at a video of the Hash Circle opening: Introductions and the Hares on ice. (Don’t worry; it is less than four minutes long).

And as usual, we did an after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.

I tried my best, but sometimes your best just isn’t good enough.

Some Facebook memories from this day in history:

Three years ago, a new bar opened in town, and the customers were invited to decorate the walls.

Anyone up for some political bullshit in the form of memes?

Enough of that nonsense; let’s hear what Reekay has to say about the advantages of dating an older Filipina. I had to smile thinking about that scenario. The youngest woman I’ve dated here was eighteen years old. These days, I’m with one of those “older” gals, Swan, who is forty. Of course, “old” is a relative term, especially in light of the fact that I’m thirty years her senior. But Reekay’s points are all valid, and in my experience, older is definitely better.

Maybe these will make you smile:

I reckon that’s enough of my nonsense for one day. Come back for another fix if you dare tomorrow.