Down and dirty

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.

To the victors go the spoils.

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 noticed yesterday they had spelled out supermarket now. They could have used a space between “department” and “store”, but I deem this effort good enough!

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.

In the meantime, I’ll just have to expand my repertoire of things I can cook in the oven. Today I tried my hand at chicken wings…

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

Then again, maybe the bars aren’t “safe spaces”. After all, prostitution is also technically illegal.

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!

Arizona morning

Changed things up a bit today and had breakfast at the Arizona resort here in Barretto.

The sun was kinda shining and it was a nice day to dine by the beach…

Now, I eat at Arizona a couple of times a month, so dining there this morning wasn’t so unusual. In fact, I was just there on August 2 and blogged about an unusually unsatisfactory breakfast of biscuits and gravy. What was different this time is that I didn’t order breakfast at all, despite it being just a little after 8:00 a.m.

Instead I ordered up the cottage pie. The waitress asked incredulously “for breakfast?” I said yep, if it’s available now. She shrugged and said okay.

It seems I’ve developed an interest in pasties and meat pies since I’ve been reading about Kevin Kim’s exploits in the kitchen. Commenter Thirsty also gave an Englishman’s perspective on this subject, including a mention of a cottage and shepherd pies. My quest is to sample all available options on offer here in Barretto, so a pie for breakfast it is!

Now, when the waitress delivered this to my table I admit I was a little surprised. I mean, I’ve heard of pot pies but never saw one served this way.
This is what was inside. Again, not what I was expecting. So yeah, the menu does say served with mashed potatoes on top, but I was picturing a scoop on top of a meat pie.
And here’s what was under that blanket of mashed taters. Plenty of minced beef and veggies as promised. BUT NO CRUST WHATSOEVER!

Granted, the was my first ever cottage pie; but was I wrong to think a pie by definition has a crust? I actually went back to look at the menu again (and take the photo above) just to be sure. Now, there is no mention of a crust per se, but “baked to a golden brown” is certainly misleading. What the fuck was baked to a golden brown, the potatoes?

Okay, Google is my friend. It seems the consensus is that a cottage pie can have a pastry crust or a mashed potato crust. Live and learn.

Anyway, it was quite tasty and I ate it all. It just wasn’t what I was expecting. And so the quest continues.

Coincidentally,, my friend John was up the beach having breakfast with his girlfriend at By the Sea resort. He sent me this photo of the beach there:

Stormy weather washes all that trash that people dump into the rivers that flow into the bay onto the beach. I’m too pissed about it to try an punctuate the preceding sentence. At least Arizona does a better job raking up the trash on their portion of the beach.
Okay, everything looks better with Mango in the picture. John’s a lucky guy!

In other news, we had a few hours of sunshine yesterday afternoon. Once I’d finished my rant about Monday’s shitty urban Hash trail, I decided to take to the mountains and get some relief.

See, now that’s what a trail is supposed to look like!

I hadn’t been up on My Bitch for about a month I guess. Despite the rain, the paths were in surprisingly good shape. Muddy in places and a tad slippery here and there, but not bad overall.

Even had a waterfall to enjoy.

Now one thing I didn’t like was that with a reduced amount of traffic the path was overgrown with that tall grass-like plant, making it hard at times to follow the trail. In fact, I wound up missing my planned turn and found myself here:

Man, was I ever tired! It was pretty bizarre that I was on this particular path because it is part of the trail for next week’s Hash (in which I’m co-Hare). Now, I came at from a different direction but it was still surprising.

It turned out to be a nice little adventure and by golly, I’m going to go back up to the mountain right now! Thanks for reading!\

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

In the morning, Arizona morning

A place where I can smile

And see a hundred miles away.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO3uhjah6xU
When I lived in Arizona I used to see Rod Hart playing live in the local bars.

Rinse and repeat

Well, yesterday’s Hash turned out to be almost as boring as the stuff I post here at LTG. I guess you could call it an urban trail seeing as how we never left the pavement. To be fair, it was an excellent rainy day hike. Except it didn’t rain. There was lots of grousing both during and after the Hash about the lack of any challenge–it was just 5.5 kilometers of level ground street walking. A couple of guys said “fuck this” halfway through and took a path up into the mountains. I was a little tempted but opted to stay the course out of respect for the Hare. Honestly, the worst part for me was that almost all of yesterday’s trail was exactly what I had walked that morning. And it was boring the first time!

On the bright side, Pubic Head and I will be the Hares next week. We will be reprising the trail that got washed away last month. And compared to what we did yesterday our walk will seem challenging and fun. At least I hope so!

SBH3 Run #1361. We started in Alta Vista (at the right) and walked across Barretto’s city streets, avoiding that perfectly nice mountain you see in the middle…
Waiting outside Johansson’s to get the show on the road, as it were…
And we are On-On! 37 Hashers at yesterday’s event.
On the mean streets of my subdivision, Alta Vista.
Of course, walking through my neighborhood is what I do every day with the dogs, so nothing to get excited about. I’d say half the time the Hash will pass through Alta Vista on the way to or from one of the mountain trails. So I was really surprised yesterday when we just did a big loop and came back into Barretto.
The best view of the day…
The rest of the walk was pretty much like this…Bush Diver (in yellow) and Vienna Sausage (in red) veered off shortly thereafter to find their own trail in the mountain.
Passed by my favorite eatery, Sin-n-Bull. One nice thing about the day was we ordered our after-Hash meals from here for delivery to our On-Home at Hot Zone.
The final kilometer was walking down the National Highway which is always a real treat. Not!
But I made it back to Hot Zone safe and sound…
Sit-n-Bull sends over a couple of waitresses with menus. They take our orders, call them in, and our food is delivered right to where we are seated. I had the Salisbury steak with cole slaw and baked beans. Quite tasty!
For our dining entertainment we got to watch the ice being delivered.
Slot Licker and H.I.V. celebrated birthdays and in the Hash tradition we made them a cake. On their head!
The Hares, Goes with a Dickhead and Bum Burglar, take their seat on the ice while receiving feedback from the Kennel on their Shitty Trail.
The obligatory photo of “gash” on ice…
And we welcomed and deflowered a Hash virgin.

And that’s about it. Oh, and we drank us some beers too.

Next week’s Hash will be much better. I can personally guarantee it. Unless it rains.


Melody: 
The Mickey Mouse Club
Lyrics: 
S-H-I, T-T-Y
T-R-A-I-L
Shitty trail (It sucked!)
Shitty trail (Totally fucked!)
I’d rather sit here
And drink my beer
Than run your shitty trail

S-H-I, T-T-Y
T-R-A-I-L

Twerking off

Now that I have your attention. I’ll get to the good stuff soon, just be patient.

I do things systematically around here, ya know. Let me check my list. Yep, just finished my nap so it’s time for my daily blog post.

Anyway, my life pretty much is that simple and routine. It is what it is and I’m not complaining about it.

Mother nature gave me a fine morning for a walk, so I took advantage and got a long one in. Since I can’t complain about the rain I’ll just say “damn, it’s hot when the sun is out!”

There’s always something to see when you are out and about if you keep your eyes open.

Like these boys fishin’ old school style at the local shit water hole. I personally wouldn’t eat anything that comes out of that toilet, but that’s just me.
And no, that shack isn’t on fire. The health department was actually out spraying for mosquitoes today. I’ve never seen that before here. Guess the dengue has spread to this area. Something else kinda interesting in this photo is that despite the poverty that living in this squatter ville implies, they’ve still got a satellite dish on the roof. Good for them!
And in what is pretty big news for my little town, we are getting a Divimart! That’s a combo grocery/department store apparently. Very popular and the locals are glad to not have to go to Olongapo or Subic town to go shopping now. I especially like the abbreviation on the sign which perfectly captures Filipino illogic. I’ve never seen “market” shortened that way, but if space were an issue, why not abbreviate department? Who knows? Who cares! This is the Philippines damn it!
Okay, I really don’t know what “Filipino style” tomato sauce is all about. I found this in my kitchen so apparently the domestic helper prefers this taste in whatever it is she cooks for herself.
Speaking of food, I had dinner at Sit-n-Bull last night. I think it has become my favorite restaurant overall in town. The pulled pork sandwich came in two sizes and I opted for the large. It was awesome. I had to pay extra for the side of cole slaw, but it was well worth it. Yummy!

Okay, sometimes I get bored (shaddup!) so I’ll step out of my comfort zone. Like today I answered a question on Quora (yes, that’s still a thing) about the skin color of Filipinos. Why someone asked that, I have no clue. And no one else had submitted an answer so I stepped up to the plate. Bottom line, Filipinos run the gamut from fair/light complected to very dark. I even included some photos:

This is one of the indigenous Aeta people. Almost African in appearance.
One the other end of the spectrum, a famous actress here named Sharon Cuneta. You can see the coveted Spanish blood in this one…
As for me, I really do appreciate the natural brown beauties that are in abundance here.

I could do a whole post on the skin color thing here. Lots of advertisements for “whitening” cream and the like. Being fair skinned is what most Filipinas seem to covet, so they try and avoid being overly exposed to the sun. I find it all kinda sad, but I guess it’s a culture thing that I don’t fully understand.

Alright, and now the moment you’ve been waiting for. I didn’t attend the SOB dance competition this week, but my friend John always goes and takes photos and videos. According to him, this gal is one of the best at doing a twerk dance. At least that night. It’s only a minute long, so I’ll let you judge for yourselves. No nudity or anything like that, but probably NSFW either. And turn down the sound, the music is godawful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=47&v=BUqVDffHIBA
Imagine what she could do if she had an ass!

You’re welcome!

If a tree falls…

…in the backyard and no one heard it, did it make a sound?

Probably drowned out by the noise of the wind.

Anyway, wind gusts and heavy rainfall appeared to have been a fatal combination for this lonely tree outside my kitchen window. This morning the caretaker who lives in the basement servant quarters of my house had his son out there hacking off branches with a machete. I figured they were just chopping up the remains to make for easier disposal, but nope:

Replanted and restored, more or less. No idea what the umbrella is all about though.

The rain has now settled into a pattern of sorts, coming in waves or cycles that I’m getting better at predicting. I was pleased to have accurately assessed a window of over an hour for yesterday afternoon’s walk. I repeated that success this morning. As I write this post I’m waiting for a good opportunity to hike some more. I predict I’ll be good to go in a couple of hours. We’ll see.

What else? Well, in more news from the backyard, my dog Lucky has now discovered he has the ability to jump the wall. Buddy has always been able to do so, hence the need to secure him with a 12 foot leash when he’s outside. I’ll be purchasing a similar setup for Lucky soon.

But in the meantime he’s spending his outside time in that enclosure. Not much higher than the wall, but so far at least it has successfully stymied Lucky’s efforts to escape.

And that’s really about it from here. Unless you want to look at this keen map of the Philippines:

I live in the Central Luzon area, Zambales Province. There in the upper left quadrant.

Okay, and this made me laugh:

When a penny for your thoughts is too much, it’s good to have zero sense.

This Epstein affair is pretty shocking too. With the previously exposed corruption of the FBI and it’s failed coup attempt, and now the DOJ apparently ensuring loose lips won’t be sinking any of the elite purveyors of underage girls, it’s almost as if the USA has become a banana republic.

Maybe all this wind we’ve been experiencing is just a bunch of big sighs of relief.

Eh. Makes me glad to be far, far away in my little slice of heaven.

What a crock!

I don’t have a (crock) pot to piss in. My domestic helper dropped and shattered the ceramic cooking innards of my beloved Crock Pot. I’ll look for a replacement next week when I’m on the old Navy base shopping. Until then, my kitchen repertoire will be limited to the stove top, oven, and grill. Or I’ll be eating out more.

Meanwhile, I’ve resolved to not be fooled again.

Yeah, I’ve seen THAT before. Get all excited, put on some clothes, leash up the dogs, and hit the street.
Just in time for this!
I guess I need to learn to be more like the Filipinos and just take rainy season in stride. This too shall pass and all that.

Here’s a story that ought to touch your heart. A five year old boy sees his Air Force pilot father off from the airport in Dallas back in 1967. The father was subsequently shot down and killed in Vietnam (well, Laos). 52 years later, the son is an airline pilot and he flies his father’s recently discovered remains back to the same airport in Dallas. Give it a read.

And how about some stuff I saw on Facebook this morning?

Actually, I understand that good grammar is a racist manifestation of White privilege.
Funny how that works…
Who knew?
This doesn’t pass the smell test as far as I’m concerned.

The world has gone mad. Or so it seems.


We’ll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgement of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that’s all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain’t changed
‘Cause the banners, they are flown in the last war

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
No, no!

I’ll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Oh I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?

There’s nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by the bye
And a parting on the left
Is now a parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
Don’t get fooled again
No, no!

Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss

UPDATE: Well, I see I also used the “what a crock” title last July. In that post I was again bitching about the weather but I was happy to be cooking up a big batch of chili in my recently repaired crock pot. What goes around comes around I guess.

Just a second…

…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:

I’ll see your one typhoon and raise you one. Looks like a monster storm to me!

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)

What doesn’t kill you…

…makes you stronger. Or so they say. To which I’d respond “bullshit”. I mean, if you survive a skydiving accident but are paralyzed, you’re fucked, but not stronger. Now, if you say it only hurts until the pain goes away, that’s a sentiment I can get behind.

Anyway, I ain’t been killed (yet) and I’m sober and feeling no pain, so I reckon things are right with the world. At least for now. Actually, I do have red and itchy eyes, but I’ve got a doctor appointment for that tomorrow. But I think good luck is a big part of good health. After all, here in the Philippines we are just a mosquito bite away from the dreaded dengue fever. Which has reached epidemic proportions recently.


The Philippines has declared a “national dengue epidemic” after at least 622 people lost their lives from the mosquito-borne disease this year.
At least 146,000 cases were recorded from January to 20 July – a 98% increase on the same period last year – the health department said.

I take the normal precautions like wearing repellent and turning on the bug zapper in my bedroom every night. Honestly, as much as I am outside I rarely get bit. And the mosquitoes buzzing around my head when I’m trying to sleep was much worse in Korea than it is here. Here’s to hoping my good luck continues!

Rumor has it that some ISIS-type suicide bombers have been tracked to the Olongapo-Subic area. But you know what, there ain’t much I can do with that type of information. I hope it’s not true and if it is, I hope they get caught before innocents get hurt, but otherwise I’m not going to change my lifestyle to avoid a potential terrorist. I’ll continue to go out and have a blast in the bars. Er, let me rephrase that…

I was a little surprised to see this report that the Philippines ranks pretty highly (well, middle of the pack anyway) in safety from crime. Higher than places like Korea and France even. Well, it’s a survey about how safe people feel, so it may be more accurate to say the perception of safety from crime. I take the normal precautions of course, but here in Barretto I do feel safe, even when I’m stumbling down walking the streets at night. On the other hand, I never had that sense of security in Manila or Angeles City. Well, shit happens. Even in places like El Paso and Dayton. I’m not going to lose sleep worrying about it, that’s for sure.

Speaking of being lucky, how about this dog that fell off a six story roof, crashed through the sunroof of a parked car, and survived with minor injuries. Amazing. And I though my dog was Lucky!

Well, he’s always gonna be my Lucky Boy! Here he is looking forward to his morning walk.
The walk is also the highlight of Lucky’s stepbrother Buddy’s day too.
Boys will be boys, and these two guys do like to roughhouse around with each other.

It was weird the other night though. Lucky went after Buddy and he was NOT playing around. I have no idea what set him off, it wasn’t over food or anything like that. I thought it was interesting to see Buddy back off the way he did. Maybe he was as surprised as I was. Buddy still has some size over Lucky, but not nearly as much as he used to. Will be interesting to see if Lucky takes over as the alpha male canine of the house. I do frequently remind them both however, that I am the real BIG DOG around here.

Raining off and on (of course) today, but I managed to get my steps in anyway. Baby back ribs in the slow cooker and darts on tap for tonight. And life goes on!


We were never meant to worry
The way that people do
And I don’t need to hurry
As long as I’m with you
We’ll take it nice and easy
And use my simple plan
You’ll be my lovin’ woman
I’ll be your lovin’ man
We’ll take the most from living
Have pleasure while we can

I’ll have some water and mud with my Hash, please!

The good news is that it did not rain during the 1360th running of the Subic Hash House Harriers. Now that we’ve got that out of the way…

The Hare was the notorious Leech My Nuggets, ably assisted by his partner in crime girlfriend, Leech My Pussy. In all fairness, Leech stated that the 6K trail was almost completely flat. Given his history of mountain goat trails I’m not sure anyone believed him. The girlfriend did let slip that there was “some” water on the trail, so I guess it can’t be said that we weren’t warned.

The trail did in fact turn out to be flat. Ironically, it was in an area I had scouted for potential use the last time I wore the mantle of Hare. At that time I rejected leading the kennel out there because I deemed it “too wet”. Of course, that was BEFORE the heavy rains we’ve experienced these past two weeks. I’ve got lots of pictures this week, I’ll let them tell the story.

The trail we hiked, pretty much in it’s entirety. I deviated slightly at the end, opting to forego a water crossing I deemed unsafe (deep and fast current).
That’s me, clumsily extracting myself from the Hashmobile at the trail head.
And we are off! Or technically, “on-on”.
How now, brown carabao?
Hey, this ain’t so bad…
Yep, feet still dry! I’m liking this trail! So far.
A river runs through it. You stay in your bed, I’ll stay in mine…
Okay, a healthy looking rice paddy. Rice don’t grow on trees you know…
Farmers hard at work tending the crop…
While this lazy carabao looks on…
Farm living!
And those Hashers go marching along…
Now walking along these narrow berms is a little trickier than it looks. Not always level, sometimes a hidden hole. And one false step…
…and you’re in the soup. Rice soup as it were.
For some reason Leech thought it would be fun to see us tall guys bend over to our knees to make our way through this lean-to like shelter…
…which turned out to be nothing compared to what we had to do on the other side. That water was over my knees…
Water, water everywhere!
And just when you think it can’t get any worse, it does.
A sticky, sucky, muddy walk that was!
Those are my shoes after that particular crossing…
But not to worry, there was plenty of opportunity to clean most of the mud off. Like here.
And here.
Well, once your shoes and socks are soaked, what difference does it make anymore?
But at some point enough is enough. Here the Hashers are revolting and bypassing the water crossing I mentioned earlier. Instead we took a road with a perfectly fine bridge over those troubled waters before rejoining the Leech trail and making our way on-home to Johansson’s.
The Hares spending some well earned time on the ice!

Honestly though, it wasn’t all that bad. I enjoyed being out on trail again after my two week hiatus.

And oh by the way, it’s raining again today.


When you’re down and out
When you’re on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you
I’ll take your part
Oh when darkness comes
And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on, silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh if you need a friend
I’m sailing right behind

Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind

A reminder

To keep a real world perspective. While I’m bitching and moaning about the rain, today comes news of TWO ferries capsizing during Sunday’s storm.

31 dead bodies pulled from the sea.

I’m not sure what type of ferries were involved, but I suspect they were largish banka boats.

Probably like this. I rode one for the first time a few years back out to Puerto Galera island. Seas got a bit choppy and I remember thinking how much more would it take to dump us over?

Anyway, it’s all part of life in the Philippines I suppose. From the linked article above:


About 20 typhoons and storms batter the Philippines each year, making the archipelago that lies on the Pacific typhoon and earthquake belt one of the world’s most disaster-prone countries.

Meanwhile back in my disaster-free life, I got my shoes wet from unavoidable puddles during my rain free afternoon walk. So far today has been mostly sunny, but I’m watching the clouds form up out over the bay as I write this.

The view from here with two hours to go until the Hash. Will it be a dry one?

Life goes on. Until it doesn’t.

What the hell was that?

Woke up early as usual this morning. Looked out the window and was surprised to see this:

If you look closely you can spot the exceedingly rare occurrence of a patch of blue sky!

I have to admit I got pretty damned excited. Perhaps this first Sunday in August would actually feature some sun!

It was nice walking the dogs and enjoying the rain-free views once again.

Alas, before I had completed the normal 30 minute dog walk, I spotted this on the horizon:

The storm clouds reversed their retreat and came charging back in for yet another assault.

Oh well, it wasn’t exactly raining cats and dogs when I did my morning walk. But there was this:

Oinking in the rain!

Anyway, I’m not one to complain. Much. I did in fact get my morning steps in. It’s not hot outside. I’m confident I’ll be able to get in a nice hike this afternoon as well. So what if my shoes get wet.


Walk along the river, sweet lullaby, it just keeps on flowing,
It don’t worry ’bout where it’s going, no, no.
Don’t fly, mister blue bird, I’m just walking down the road,
Early morning sunshine tell me all I need to know

You’re my blue sky, you’re my sunny day.
Lord, you know it makes me high when you turn your love my way,
Turn your love my way, yeah.

Eat me!

What? Two posts in one day? It must still be raining. Why yes, yes it is!

Anyway, I came home for my beer drinking expedition last night feeling some hunger pangs. Seeing as how I was too drunk lazy to do much kitchen work, I grabbed a pie from the freezer and popped it into the microwave.

A Marie Callender’s Chicken Pot Pie to be precise.

Back in the day when I lived out west (California and Arizona) Marie Callender’s was a pretty outstanding restaurant chain. I loved the pot pies they served. Now, the frozen version is much smaller and not nearly as tasty, but in a pinch it’ll do.

Hot out of the oven. How come they never look like they do on the box?
Still, it served the intended purpose of satiating my empty belly.

This morning while getting some walking done, I popped into Arizona for a quick breakfast. Even though I’m only there once a month or so at best, the waitress knew I wanted brewed coffee, black. For some reason I was reminded of the story of the guy who ordered coffee with no cream. The surly waitress responded “we don’t serve cream here. You can have your coffee with no milk!”. I told that old saw to my waitress who laughed politely. Ah well.

Anyway, I wound up ordering the biscuits with sausage gravy. As soon as they were served I was pretty sure I was going to regret my choice.

What’s wrong with this picture? Well, back home the biscuits are served open faced for one thing. These flat bastards were the whole damn biscuit.
And sure enough, instead of a light and fluffy biscuit I got some doughy monstrosity that didn’t really even taste like a biscuit.

As the picture above indicates, I only ate about 2/3 of one biscuit. The gravy was fine and they even had extra on the side. Nothing I wanted to pour it on though. I would have preferred toast to those so-called biscuits. Anyway, Arizona’s food is normally very good to excellent, so I’m guessing this was an aberration. Or maybe people in these parts like their biscuits served that way.

I did notice that Arizona has a Cottage Pie on the menu. Maybe next time I’m there to eat I’ll give it a try.

After my soggy walk I came back home and wrote about that adventure. And before I knew it, it was time for lunch. Well, I had defrosted steaks a couple of days ago so I, popped some taters in the oven, put the corn-on-the-cob in a pot on the stove, defrosted some vegetables, and fired up the grill.

I’m still not satisfied with the quality of meat I’m finding, especially when it comes to steaks. These were pretty damn thin and I wound up overcooking them some. I guess the thinness made them less tough at least.
The completed meal came out looking like this. I’d give it a “B” overall, but then again, my stomach is not a harsh judge. Except when it comes to biscuits!

In non-food related news, as a dog owner I’m always looking for useful information. I put this in the “good to know” category for sure:

Now you tell me!

Again, I’m somewhat loathe to engage in meaningless political discourse these days, knowing full well that minds are unlikely to be changed. But sometimes I just can help myself, especially when I come across a meme that makes me laugh. Like this one:

Dumb and dumber. Okay, maybe Warren isn’t dumb, but she’s a cynical bitch who played the whole “person of color” scam for her own benefit. Disgusting woman that she is.

Anyway, I’m a long way away and the Democratic field is doing a fine job beclowning themselves without my help. Have at it, by all means!

Walkin’ in the rain

I guess you see what I did there…

At some point you just have to say “fuck this” and go for a walk anyway. I’m sick and tired of sitting around waiting for the rain to stop. Of course, prudence dictates that I stay on the pavement but it’s high time to be steppin’ out regardless. So off I went.

Things started off well enough. A few light sprinkles when I left the house but not even enough to warrant opening the umbrella. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but it seems that once I get a goodly distance from the shelter of home the skies open up and dispense their fury in a cascade of frothing rainwater. That’s the way it went down this morning.

Abra street was transformed into a river, but I waded on.
The storm drain said “nope, this amount of rainwater exceeds design capacity.”
The hillside said “look ma, I’m a waterfall!”
The creek bed said to the runoff, “fuck this, let’s take the stairs”.
The lake formerly known as Rizal Street.

Anyway, the umbrella kept me mostly dry from the knees up. I have three pairs of shoes I hike in and now they are are all soaking wet. A couple days of sunshine would remedy that, but alas, rumor has it that yet another typhoon is approaching and this one might be Yolanda-esque.


Typhoon Haiyan, known in the Philippines as Super Typhoon Yolanda, was one of the most powerful tropical cyclones ever recorded. On making landfall, Haiyan devastated portions of Southeast Asia, particularly the Philippines.[1] It is the deadliest Philippine typhoon on record,[2] killing at least 6,300 people in that country alone.[3] In terms of JTWC-estimated 1-minute sustained winds, Haiyan is tied with Meranti for being the strongest landfalling tropical cyclone on record. In January 2014, bodies were still being found.[4]

Here’s hoping those rumors are nothing more than fear-mongering hyperbole.

And in an odd quirk of coincidence, this was me on August 2, 2016:

I had the bright idea of walking home from work “the long way” on the Han river. Got caught up in a massive rainstorm with no umbrella and no avenue of escape except to keep plodding on. By the time I got home my new Samsung phone was toast. Waterlogged toast is a more apt description I guess. These days I always carry a zip lock baggie in my pocket to keep my phone safe and dry…

Life’s a dance I suppose. And Christopher Walken can dance! Enjoy.

I didn’t photoshop that first picture in this post, but I can see now where it came from.

First things first

First of all, it’s the first day of August. Not that that matters much; every day, week, and month here are all pretty much the same. And not in a bad way.

Coincidentally, today is the first day that it has rained this month. And it’s been raining like a motherfucker all damn day.

Last night I experienced a more pleasant first:

First place in the Wednesday night dart tourney with my partner Espie. First time we’ve played together as partners. Beat some tough competition as well.

Maybe I’ve just been lucky, but this is the first time this has ever happened to me:

The charger apparently overheated and fried my bluetooth headphones. Damn it!

I don’t normally accept friend requests on Facebook from people I’ve never met in person. I sometimes make exceptions if we have some mutual friends and the requester is an attractive female. That must have been the case with Angelee. I’m not sure when we became FB friends, but I just now received my first ever contact from her on messenger. After the briefest of small talk (where are you? what are you doing?) she asks me if she can ask me something. I’m thinking to myself you just did, but I told her to go ahead.

“Can I borrow 200 pesos to get my daughter a checkup?” Wow. That’s the first time a complete stranger has asked to borrow money. Well, other than beggars. Which I guess technically that is what she is. I asked her how she knows me and she responded that she used to work at Hot Zone and saw me there with the Hash. Okay then. Now, 200 pesos ($4.) is no big deal and I have in fact given more than that to beggars. I figured if she wanted to meet up somewhere convenient I’d give it to her. And the devil on my shoulder was whispering “if she’s hot maybe she can earn some more!”. Alas, she is not even in town. Wanted me to do some kind of wire transfer from my phone. I told her I couldn’t do that (don’t have or want the app). Then she started hinting around about wanting money to travel to Olongapo. That’s when I blocked her.

Speaking of boycotts, I enjoyed some schadenfreude for the first time in a while when I read that Gillette has been losing money since they got “woke” and dissed the masculinity of their primary customer base. Duh! I’ve been boycotting from here in the Philippines which isn’t easy as most of the available shaving products seem to carry that brand name. But I did find this:

Suck it, Gillette! I actually like this product better anyway.

And so concludes the first post of the month here at LTG. And if I can catch a break in the rain, I’ll take my first hike as well. And as you might have expected, I’m looking forward to…

my first beer of the day!

Of course, I’ll have to wait until 5:00 p.m. first…


Here comes the rain again
Falling on my head like a memory
Falling on my head like a new emotion
I want to walk in the open wind
I want to talk like lovers do
I want to dive into your ocean
Is it raining with you

It can always be worse

I guess it’s no secret that I’m currently on a low ebb. I do tend to wear my heart on my sleeve after all. Of course, I recall all the platitudes along the lines of “this too shall pass”, and I recognize that in the big scheme of things my problems truly are meaningless. I’ve certainly been in much deeper and darker dire straights than I am at this moment.

It’s a transition as much as anything else I suppose. And what’s been interesting is discovering how many people are along for the ride. Being reminded that folks truly care and you are never really alone is comforting. Thank you all for that!

I’m consistent in my narcissism at least. In addition to my ramblings here at LTG, I sometimes leave cryptic posts on my Facebook page. Especially when I’ve been out drinking. The other day I posted what I thought was a rather innocuous statement: “Day 1 of the rest of my life. It’s bound to get better.” I was surprised to wake up the following day to comments from old friends and people I hadn’t heard from in years, offering support and encouragement. That made me feel better for sure. I particularly enjoyed this exchange between ex-wife #3 and my nephew Justin:

Carol:
You are alone because you chose to leave your family and your country to live among strangers. I can see the appeal of an adventure but adventures end. Maybe its time for a new adventure/experience.

Justin:
Obviously I don’t know the intricacies of your relationship with John, but at face value I have to disagree with your statement. Some of the closest friends I’ve made are Korean. I’ve shared and discussed things with my Korean friends that I never felt comfortable sharing with my family or American friends. It’s a topic I share with my mother on a weekly basis, I didn’t leave America out of spite or hatred, and I have no ill will towards my country of birth. I left because it seemed exciting and different to live abroad. I stayed because every day is something new or challenges my American mindset in some way. It’s not about the adventure as much it is about the personal growth I feel living abroad gives me. Honestly, I feel living outside the US makes me a better American. It gives me perspectives outside the American bubble.

Carol:
What I said has nothing to do with me. John has children, grandchildren and brothers-that’s his family. John has acquaintances with whom he is friendly but no best friend. Thank goodness for the dogs or else he would have nothing or no one to call his own within his vicinity. And honey John is not like you. He did not immerse himself nor embrace Korean culture nor Filipino culture. He hangs out with other ex-pats. His contact with the locals seems to be hooking up with local girls. In case you have failed to notice, the man is depressed. He went overseas in search of fulfillment and happiness. It doesn’t appear he has found it. I am blunt and often tone deaf so I put it badly. However, I am not blind or indifferent. John needs try something different or else he is going to succumb to his depressive nature.

Justin:
I don’t want to speak for John, but I think he doesn’t shy away from sharing how he’s feeling when he posts. I’ve visited him a few times in the Philippines and I would say his relationships are anything but transient. Some of his local Filipino friends have also become friends of mine. I’m also a bit concerned when his posts are a bit down, but any transition to a new city (and especially new country) is going to come with its ups and downs. I just think if John was truly unhappy in the Philippines, he wouldn’t stay.

Touching, isn’t it? I thanked them both and offered reassurances that I’m fine overall and I expect to be finer one day soon.

I’ve got to stay strong, my dogs need me!

Or so I keep telling myself…
Buddy cracks me up sometimes…

Speaking of Buddy, he’s got a girlfriend. Or at least some bitch that runs loose in the neighborhood and likes to hangout around my house and tease the boys. Sometimes she even follows us when we do our morning walk. Buddy whines hornily but of course I won’t let them mate.

That’s her…

I’m not a total prick though. I have started leaving a bowl of dry dog food out on the front porch for her every morning.

And Lucky keeps an eye on things while she eats…

Alright then, onward and upward! And thanks again dear readers for being “my understanding ear”.


“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

― Stephen King

Now what?

A nothingburger kinda day around here. Woke up feeling shitty, if you know what I mean. Also had nausea which is pretty unusual for me. In fact, I started retching but I guess there was nothing left in my stomach to expel through the throat rather than the anus. But enough about me!

Hey, wait a minute. This blog is about me, what the hell else am I going to write about? Let’s get on with it.

So, the usual Saturday night routine (hell, EVERY night). Had a few cold ones at Cheap Charlies while flirting with my Muslim bargirl friend, Maya. Then decided to change things up and try somewhere different for a change. In all the years I’ve been coming to Barretto I never made it into a bar named Wild Paradise, so I gave it a try. I was immediately besieged by several thirsty bargirls who proceeded to massage my arms and back. Another gal plopped herself down next to me and commenced to massaging my crotch (outside my shorts of course). I told them I only wanted to sit with one girl but they all continued on with their rubbing behavior. After a bit, the bartender came by and asked if I wanted to purchase lady drinks for the girls. I told her I was only going to buy one and naturally I chose Josie, that gal with the deft touch sitting next to me. I gave each of the other gals a 20 peso tip (40 cents) and they thankfully left me alone.

I chatted up Josie some but she didn’t have much of interest to say. She had a cute face but her body wasn’t in great shape for a 35 year old. Talented hands though, and she did get a rise out of me. *ahem* I finished my beer and she suggested I might enjoy a blow job. I looked around to see if there was a room for that kind of thing on premises, but she indicated we need to book a short time room. Eh, too much hassle. I told her “next time” although it is doubtful there will be one. I’m not that lonely yet anyway.

I left Wild Paradise and crossed the street to check out Double D’s, a videoke joint I sometimes frequent. There were some Filipinos inside singing badly and I wasn’t feeling it. As I turned to leave, Jhen, one of the girls that work there, popped her head out for a chat. And the first thing she asked about was the lipstick on my mouth. Oops, I’d forgotten about the goodbye kiss Josie had just given me. We had a laugh about that before I made my way on up the highway.

My next stop was one of the few girly bars I occasionally patronize, Wet Spot. Oh, for those that don’t know, the distinction between what I call a “girly bar” and the others is that girly bars have dancers on stage to entice you to purchase lady drinks and perhaps take out sex. Cheap Charlies and Wild Paradise have “GRO’s” (Guest Relations Officers) who will sit and chat and make you feel special as long as you are buying them lady drinks. In Cheap Charlies, that’s all you get–no take out. As I learned last night, obviously that’s not the case at Wild Paradise.

Which reminds me of an incident that happened at Cheap Charlies earlier this week. One of Maya’s friends was complaining about a customer who had offered to buy her a lady drink provided she let him finger her. Now, as I mentioned, CC isn’t that kind of bar. And even in those kind of bars, you don’t finger a girl in the bar. And oh by the way, to get a girl for take out is usually around 2000 to 3000 pesos ($40-$60). The commission a girl makes on a lady drink is around a dollar. So, this guy (probably an ignorant tourist) was doubly insulting.

I decided to rectify the situation by buying the offended lass a drink. And when it arrived I told her in a voice that I was hoping the asshole customer would hear “now I’m going to finger you!”. The expression on her face was priceless, and then I raised up my middle finger in the universal “fuck you” salute. She and Maya burst out laughing. Fun times!

Anyway, back at Wet Spot I bought a couple of drinks for my dancer friend Anna. I’ve mentioned her before, she has five kids that I’ve “adopted” as my charity project. Anyway, her big news was that her 17 year old daughter has managed to get herself pregnant. And so the cycle of poverty continues. Obviously mom is disappointed and so was I. I had thought if she had focused on her studies instead of boys I might consider helping fund her higher education. Oh well.

Anna’s other big news was that her 19 year old step daughter had just begun working in Rapscallion, the bar next door to Wet Spot. Well, what are you going to do? It’s a semi-honest living where you can an earn a comparatively decent salary (as opposed to working as a sales clerk at the mall for example). Anna was a little conflicted about this turn of events but really, what can she say without being a hypocrite? I teased that I was going to go Rapscallion next for some take out (yeah, I’m a barrel of laughs). But I did offer to buy the step daughter a lady drink. So Anna went and got her (the bars in “the Maze” have a reciprocal agreement, the girls get a commission on drinks regardless of where it is consumed).

So here I am sitting next to a teenage girl in hot pants and trying hard to remain gentlemanly. Actually, it wasn’t hard at all (not THAT pervert, the situation!) as I am not tempted by girls that young. Late 20’s is about as low as I will go. Still, it was past my bedtime and it was a weird circumstance sitting with mom and daughter in a girly bar. So we finished our drinks and I said my goodnights and departed.

And I actually had the good sense to go straight home and I didn’t get run over on the highway. A nice happy ending!

Today, I managed to walk my dogs before the rains started and not much else. I considered doing my afternoon walk anyway, but thought better of it given the delicate state of my stomach.

And there you have a slice of my so-called life here in the Philippines.


You keep calling me
On the telephone
You say you’re all alone
Well that’s real sad

And you keep leavin’
Notes stuck on my door
Guess you’re hungry for some more
Girl that’s too bad

‘Cause I ain’t that lonely yet
No I ain’t that lonely yet
After what you put me through
Oh, I ain’t that lonely yet

Walk on by

Eh, one of THOSE kind of days I’m afraid. The feeling sorry for myself type. It doesn’t make it any easier knowing it’s my own damn fault either. As much as I would love to have a meaningful relationship, anyone who means anything to me would put my heart in jeopardy were I to trust her with it. So I go on playing it safe with nothing at risk and nothing to lose. And that adds up to a whole lot of nothing.

Perhaps someone will come along and change my mind. Or maybe I’ll just get used to living without love and be satisfied with the other blessings in my life. Who knows? I sure as hell don’t.

In the meantime here are some random pictures I took of my fellow travelers passing by from my vantage point at Cheap Charlies. Yeah, I’m pathetic. I get that.

Sure enough, that’s a motley looking crew. No wonder the gals here call me gwapo. Not to mention my outstanding pesonality. Ah well.

And as if I weren’t depressed enough already, I encountered this guy on my my morning walk:

Poor guy is hungry and itches all over. I doubt if he has much longer in this cruel world. At least his suffering will be over.

I’ll leave you with a song I somehow remember from my early childhood. My dad would come home from work, open a quart sized bottle of beer, and plop a country-western album on the record player. Patsy Cline, Marty Robins, and this one from Leroy Van Dyke:


If I see you tomorrow on some street in town
Pardon me, if I don’t say hello (hello)
I belong to another, it wouldn’t look so good
To know someone I’m not supposed to know


Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we’re strangers when we meet
Just walk on by, wait on the corner
I love you, but we’re strangers when we meet

A dog’s life

Althouse posted an interesting story today about the way dogs are treated in India. And it got me to thinking some about the hierarchy of canines here in the Philippines.

At the top of the totem pole are those lucky animals that live in the relative comfort and safety of their owner’s home. They are fed and watered, get their shots and other needed treatments from the vet, and are generally loved and cared for. I won’t even try to ascribe an overall percentage of the dog population that lives this way. In my neighborhood which is comparatively upscale, I’d guess 80% or higher own dogs. An added benefit is that when you have shit you want to keep that others covet, a watchdog is a good theft deterrent. I’d guess the percentage is quite a bit lower in working class households.

The next tier are those dogs who have a home, get fed periodically, and exist in a universe that extends no further than the length of a three foot chain to which they are tethered.

This guy is relatively well off. At least he has shade and shelter. Many dogs are not so lucky. In the course of a one hour walk this morning I observed no fewer than 6 dogs on chains no longer than my arm. I just don’t get it. Why even own a dog under these circumstances?

It’s none of my business I suppose, but I honestly detest seeing an animal treated this way. I can’t say whether they are ever permitted off the chain or at least taken for a walk. But for the dog pictured above and several others I regularly see, they are ALWAYS chained in the same position as I pass by. Disgusting.

And then there are the dogs that I assume have owners but apparently have no home. They are always out on the street without leash or collars, but appear to be neighborhood pets. From my observations their diet consists of whatever scraps that may remain from a human’s meal. Many of them have mange or other skin disorders that go untreated. And of course these dogs do what dogs do, mate with each other. I frequently see them “stuck together” in the road and I just shake my head, knowing that in a few months there will be more dogs on the street. Sad.

Finally, there are the dogs who have nothing and no one. I see them all over on my walks. Literally skin and bones. Foraging in the trash for any morsel of nourishment they can find. Most of them are well on the way to being bald from skin disease. There are a couple I see almost daily and each day they look a little bit worse off. I dread knowing that one morning when I walk by I’m likely to view a corpse. Pathetic and heart breaking.

There are no rescue shelters or dog pounds here that I’m aware of. The locals don’t seem to notice or care. On a certain level I guess I can understand that. When so much of the human population is struggling to put food on the table, dogs are not going to be a priority. Unless it is as a meal.

Hot dog! A plate of dog adobo. Yes, just like in Korea eating dog is a thing here.

Dogs running loose and wild is also a hassle for human folk too. They sometimes knock over my trash cans and scatter garbage around the yard. I can’t take Buddy and Lucky on walks outside the neighborhood for fear of being attacked. A few months back there was a pack of dogs on Baloy Beach that were very aggressive. Even came at me once, but I managed to scare them off. I guess they went after some tourists as well, because the hotel owners complained to the Barangay (city hall). Now, they don’t have dog catchers here (remember there are no pounds or shelters). They do send out a crew though. And they just kill the dogs and take away the carcass. They even put up signs warning folks that loose dogs will be terminated. Heh, just like they do with the drug dealers!

Alright, rant over. It is what it is and it is one of the things I do not admire about this culture. I’m the outsider and my complaints would fall on deaf ears anyway. I saved two and that’s all I can do for now. Well, I leave a bowl of food out on the front porch for Lucky’s girlfriend (she’s one of those neighborhood dogs who hangs around). And no, I won’t let Buddy fuck her no matter how much he whines about being horny (he really does that!) We don’t need anymore stray puppies running around.

I will say there was one Filipina who told me out of the blue while we were out walking: “If I ever win the lottery I am going to build a shelter for all these stray dogs”. Here’s hoping she hits the jackpot!

My Buddy boy and my Lucky boy are doing just fine thank you! I’m not sure they even remember they are dogs these days. But I’m glad to have them around of course!

Taking the 5th…

…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.

What brought so many out was the celebration of Jocelyn’s birthday… (BTW, “Ate” means “older sister” and is a term of endearment here.)
…and as is the Alley Cats tradition, we had a pot luck supper in Jo’s honor. I brought my brownies as they seem popular with the gals…
That’s Jocelyn in the white blouse and glasses. She’s a little older and heavier than the normal crowd at Alley Cats but she is one of my favorites. Witty and funny, sweet and kind. I’d be tempted to give her a go, but alas, she is in a committed relationship. Ah well.

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.

My collection thus far from a relatively short period of being a Hasher.
When I retired my staff gave me a few of these personal patches as a gift. I didn’t have any input on the design but it does capture the two things I do the most–hiking and beer drinking.
Pubic Head sent me this design which I also like as it captures the play on my Hash name to the Beatle’s song.

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

That’s about right…

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”