Drama time

Try as I might, I just can’t seem to avoid drama, even if it doesn’t directly involve me.

Mary invited herself to join me for last night’s SOB, and I accepted her invitation. After the show, she wanted to come home with me, and I didn’t resist that overture either. I went to bed, and she lay beside me, busy on her phone. I actually found it rather irritating because I was feeling a little frisky. Anyway, suddenly, she sprang up and said she had to go. Apparently, her drug-addicted uncle had beat up her grandmother. This has been going on for some time. Why anyone would tolerate that kind of behavior is a mystery to me, but I guess Granny can’t find a way to tell her son to fuck off. The bottom line for me was I woke up alone again this morning.

My part-time helper, who lives in the maid’s room downstairs, messaged me with a plea for 6,000 pesos to bail her brother out of jail. He got busted in a drug raid at his friend’s house in Subic. His story is he wasn’t aware his friend was involved with drugs and is an innocent victim in all of this. He’s making other allegations of police corruption, but methinks he might be protesting too much. If you choose to run with the wrong crowd, this kind of thing will happen. Anyway, I made the loan because it would suck to be stuck in a Filipino jail indefinitely waiting for a trial, especially if you are innocent. If he is guilty, he’ll be back in soon enough. One of my friends with benefits got busted for drugs, and I ceased all contact with her after that. I do not want to be around anyone doing illegal shit; the potential consequences for innocent bystanders are too severe.

This morning Darlene messaged me pleading for a second chance. I didn’t give her one but tried to be nice in my rejection. Her parting shot was that I give up too quickly. I bit my tongue and let it go. Who needs the drama?

Hmm, I see now that I was writing about darts drama back in 2018. I feel a little bad about that now because the Drama King I wrote about died a few months later.

UPDATE: I was just chatting with one of the Cheap Charlies gals I know, and she said lots of the staff there are afraid of me because I throw “tantrums.” Shit. Maybe I attract drama because I’m so dramatic. Still, whenever I’ve been upset in Cheap Charlies, I had valid reasons. But I guess that is also a matter of perspective. Something to think about.

No drama involved with the Friday group hike. The closest we came was a new landowner who has chosen to erect fences that interfered with the My Bitch trail. We were able to find a walk-around this time, but this kind of thing doesn’t bode well for the future.

This kind of fence.

It was an otherwise pleasant hike. Here are some photos from along the way:

Our path, as seen from above
This week’s iteration of the Friday hikers
An Alta Vista passage
Then into the hills
Another hot day. Much better in the shade.
Hello, Easter mountain
Arriving at my mountain friend Olivia’s place
It was Olivia’s birthday, and her kids and grandkids were there. That’s Jennifer and her baby.
Just passing through
Bottled in
Looks cozy
Heading back down to the valley
Paying our respects to Mother Mary
How now, brown cow?
Just about done
See you next time, EM!

The SOB was at Alaska Club last night. Before the show, I went to Angel’s Bakery next door for something to eat.

It’s been quite some time since I last ate there, but this roast chicken salad was outstanding.

The SOB went well, with the Whiskey Girl team taking first place. A very close contest this week.

That’s me at 35 years old, enjoying a cold can of Busch beer. Hey, all the cool dudes were doing it.

Alright, let’s see what Saturday night holds in store. Thanks for dropping in.

Hiking to the C.

C = Castillejos.

The Wednesday Walkers loaded up in a jeepney and traveled to the far side of Subic, starting our hike in the Philseco area. We then marched through the backroads, fields, hills, and dales, making our way to the Babaytay section of Castillejos. A hot day, but a pleasant change of scenery and an enjoyable 8+ kilometer hike.

The path we took
in the jeepney
Out of the jeepney
Hitting the road
Scott on the road

That’s where a former Hasher I had the hots for in 2018 lives. She chose someone else over me. And this is how that’s working out for her. I feel sad for her but not pity.
And she did get (another) kid out of the deal, something I could never give her.
Up the road
Heading for the hills
Waiting on the slowpokes
Off the pavement
Up we go!
The old fat guy in the group
They are building a bypass road that will provide a shortcut to the shipyard in Cawag.
Someday no one will remember what was here before the road.
Oh, yeah? Just watch us!
The view from here
Early traffic on the new road
Heading back to the greenery
A beautiful day to be out of town
Cookie time!
A murky pond
On the road again
Another cookie delivery
Green acres
Flatlands
If you say so
Road work
Over the river
A tree that is even older than me
Waiting on a bus back to Barretto.

A good day on trail.

When beer o’clock came around, I headed out to Hideaway for the Wednesday feeding. Last night’s menu was pizza, pork liempo, fried chicken, rice, and freshly baked brownies. The food was gone in a flash, so no pictures.

Well, except for this one of Joy’s satisfied face

I was in one of “those” moods last night and decided to take my melancholy attitude elsewhere. Walking down the highway, it struck me as appropriate to show my respect to Bob by lifting a bottle to his memory.

In retrospect, probably not a good idea. That’s the “boss’s table” where he always sat. It just won’t ever be the same without him.
The ashtray with Bob’s motorcycle club logo

Anyway, I had one beer and left. Too soon for me now, but I imagine there will be a wake or other sendoff for him soon that I will attend.

I parked my ass at Sloppy Joe’s next, and the place was rockin’. Chris was in charge of the music and playing tunes that helped us old fuckers recall the happy days of our youth. When the people I knew left, I went next door to Alaska to say hi to Virginia.

I was very disappointed to receive the silent treatment from her, despite paying for two lady drinks. Honestly, it was so bad I resolved never to buy her another one. I finished my beer and left.

To her credit, Virginia did message me this morning to apologize, saying she had a headache last night. Well, she could have told me that then and maybe I’d been a tad more understanding. She’s lost her status as my favorite in Alaska now, and IF I go back there in the future, I’ll pick someone else to drink with.

Not a great way to end the night, but it’s a brand new day today, and I won’t let yesterday intrude on my pursuit of a good time today. And yes, I know I owe you a report on my date this week. I’m still working through my thoughts on that event, but perhaps I’ll have something to share tomorrow.

A peaceful easy feeling

A pretty laid-back Hash trail yesterday, with one moderate climb and a mellow down. That suits me just fine. I started the trail ahead of the pack and left the Hash circle before it was over. Ah, the freedom to do what you want, when you want, with whoever you want is definitely underrated.

The trail started at the VFW, then up into the hills on the My Bitch path, down into Marian Hills, back through Alta Vista, then out to Baloy Beach for the On-Home at Da’Kudos.
The Harriers gather for instructions from the Hare
On-On!
The climb begins
Steppin’ it up
It got a bit steep in places, but not for long
Once up top, it was almost like a stroll in the park
A Barretto view
And another from on high
Tree hugger
The Easter Mountain shot
Folks doing some work in the wilderness
It was a well-marked and easy-to-follow trail
It was hot in the sunshine yesterday
That’s Alta Vista off in the distance
Going down
The long and the short of it. I chose short.
Cookie delivery in Marian Hills
Leaving Marian Hills
On the streets of Alta Vista
The trail included a beer stop at Snackbar
I made it On-Home to Da’Kudos
Calamari for dinner
And beer for dessert.
Time to circle up
Hares on the ice
To be honest, I sometimes find the circle rituals a bit too much. But I also tend to be not all that sociable, so who am I to judge? The floating bar was enticing me, and before the circle ended, I had made my escape.
Three birthday girls getting the cake treatment
Sunset on the beach
Sunset on the water
The floater wasn’t too busy yesterday
The Hash circle, as seen from my new and improved vantage point

After a few beers on board, I walked up the beach to McCoy’s for my nightcap. I even sang a couple of videoke songs. All in all, a pretty fine day.

I’ll be back on Baloy this afternoon for my first date with Darlene, the gal I “met” on Date In Asia. Looking forward to seeing her in person. When I was telling her about the Hash, she must have done a Google search because she sent me some pictures of me at the Hash. And they were from my blog! It’s a little scary to think she may be reading my diary, but since she hasn’t backed out of the date, maybe I haven’t scared her away. Yet.

I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Feed me!

Here’s a post covering events other than my stumble down memory lane that I shared earlier today.

The feeding went well at Hideaway last night. As is becoming my Sunday modus operandi, the grub came courtesy of the Jewel Cafe. Fair prices, good food, and they deliver!

Three orders of garlic prawns with rice
Two orders of chicken wings
Shanghai lumpia
Chicken fingers
And pork sizzling sisig
See you later, prawn. Well, actually, I hope not!

I’ve already recounted my journey through the past at the Green Room, but there was something else to report from there–The winner of the Miss Fralics beauty pageant at the FRA in San Antonio is one of the guest relations officers (GRO) from Green Room.

Sorry, I don’t recall her name at the moment. I do recognize her ass when I see it, though–completely covered in a tattoo...

So, congratulations to Miss Whatshername!

UPDATE: Her name is Damian Valencia. So, congrats to you, Damian. Or should I say, Maganda!

It’s Hash Monday again, so we’ll see if I have happy trails to report tomorrow. Until then, I’ll leave you this bit of wisdom:

It was a chili day

But this helped keep me warm:

I’m sure my regular readers will discern which one I’m referring to…

It was a nice afternoon attending the annual Fralics (pronounced frolics) hosted by the FRA branch in San Antonio. Yesterday’s main event was the chili cookoff, with eight teams competing for the honor of creating the best chili, at least in the eyes of the judges.

The stage is set. There is a beauty contest today, but I opted not to make the trip back this year. Probably should have just arranged to spend the night. Oh well, next year.
I was one of the sponsors for the golf tournament this year.
We arrived a little after noon, and I was hungry, so I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich.
Working girls working that grill
The fruits of their labor
I really enjoy hanging out here at the FRA/Garage Bar and Grill
A big Old Glory
Saw some old friends from Alley Cats bar
Still cooking…
Burners off at 2:00 p.m.
My pal Dave’s creation
Looks good to me!
Dave’s entourage
One of the competitors. I don’t know why, but this reminded me of the last time I had diarrhea.
Just before the time bell rings

So, at 2:00, samples from each contestant were provided to the judges. Then attendees were invited to grab a taste from each pot while supplies last. I think I managed five of the eight.

Dave’s creation. At first, I thought it was too bland, but a couple of minutes later, the green chili kicked in, and I could feel the burn in my mouth.
I couldn’t keep track of the contestant numbers, but this one was good too.
I don’t know, and I don’t care. Ignorant and apathetic!
The last two I tried. Hey, if it ain’t got beans like the one on the right, it ain’t chili. Yeah, yeah, I know there’s a school of thought that REAL Mexican chili is beanless. But this ain’t Mexico.

And then the winners were announced.

My personal favorite finished 3rd.

The team from the VFW in Angeles got first. Sorry, I don’t remember which one was their entry; I did try it, though.

Here’s the thing, I’m no judge of what makes chili good. To me, it’s all a matter of taste. And what I like may not suit your preferences. Another thing I noticed was that eating from multiple bowls of different concoctions also impacts the flavor. I mentioned how Dave’s batch seemed bland at first but had a tangy aftertaste. If you took a bite of something else right away, you’d miss out on that effect. Later, one of the judges we know said they considered spiciness a key element–the spicier, the better. That’s a standard I totally disagree with, but whatever.

Third place is plenty good for me…

After the event, we made the drive back to Barretto, but it felt too early to go home on a Saturday night. So, we had my driver drop us off at Sloppy Joe’s.

Let the good times roll!

That’s it for now. I will be doing the Sunday feeding at Hideaway and see where the evening takes me from there. Full report tomorrow!

Sultans of Swing is one of my favorite songs, but how is it relevant to today’s post? Well, I did use a line from the lyrics as a caption. Listen for it!

Just a post before I go

To whom it may concern.

I’m heading out to San Antonio soon, so I need to fill the void here at LTG before I leave. I’m pretty sure I won’t be in any condition to write when I return this evening. So, here’s the lowdown since my previous post.

I checked into my room at The Pub Hotel. I’ve stayed here on previous occasions when I was enduring an extended power or water outage at home.

Clean, comfortable, and cheap–paid 1700 pesos ($34) for my stay last night.
A view from my room
And another. Not exactly postcard material. Damn, do they even make postcards anymore? It’s weird to be old and outdated.

Anyway, I got what I came for at The Pub–a shower, a toilet I can flush, and a good night’s sleep. I did have some issues with the wifi. I was on the third floor, accessible only by stairs. I didn’t ask about the password when I checked in, so I had to go back to the lobby. The receptionist said it was on the room key fob. It wasn’t, so she handed me a slip of paper. When I got back to the room later that night, the password didn’t work. So, it was back to the lobby once more. The same receptionist said to try it with a five or a seven (the password contained a 6) so, I went back upstairs, and still a no-go. Fuck it. I wasn’t going to stay all night without internet access (my phone wouldn’t make a mobile hotspot for some reason, either). I packed up my laptop (planning to come back to shower in the morning, I left everything else in the room) and went back downstairs. There was a male receptionist this time, and I told him how disappointed I was with a hotel that didn’t provide working wifi. He apologized and said, “Let me help you with that, sir,” so we headed upstairs once more. It took a few minutes, but he was successful in getting both my phone and my laptop connected to the wifi. Woo-hoo, I got to sleep in the room I paid for, after all!

After my shower, I dressed and prepared to attend the SOB event at Queen Victoria. I had time to grab some dinner, so I ordered fish and chips at the Outback pool bar.

My dinner view

While I was dining, a woman greeted me by name as she passed and went to talk with the bar manager. When she left, the manager asked me how I knew her, and I honestly responded damned if I know. It turns out she used to work at Mugshots bar, and I guess I met her there. She was applying for work at Outback, and I gave her a recommendation. I mean, if she remembered my name after a brief one-time visit to Mugshots, she’s got what it takes to make customers feel at home.

Queen Victoria is right across the highway from Outback, and I successfully managed a crossing of the busy road without getting squashed. The SOB was entertaining, and I had a good tablemate to chat with. Whiskey Girl finished first, and all the bars placed where I had voted them, so I must have judged correctly. No pictures to share, sorry!

During a break in the show, one of the guys sitting behind me asked about the Hash and whether he could attend. I told him everyone was welcome and where and when we meet. He thanked me, and I asked him how he knew I was a Hasher. “I read your blog.” After all these years, it still astounds me to run into a complete stranger (this guy lives in Malaysia) that knows all about me from the diary of my life that is Long Time Gone.

After the SOB, I decided to continue on the path to drunkenness with a visit to Sloppy Joe’s. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t happen again–another encounter with a stranger who follows LTG. Now, remember that I only get about 200 unique visitors a day, so it’s not like I’m famous or anything like that guy who writes Big Hominids Hairy Chasms. To meet two of my readers in a single night in a little backwater town like Barretto must be astronomically against all odds. So much for the safety of anonymity.

Anyway, there were some real-life acquaintances at Sloppy Joes’s, including a Hash friend, Dave, who will be participating in today’s chili cookoff. Good luck and see you there. It was also another Hasher’s birthday, and Dave was buying everyone drinks in her honor. After downing a couple of shots of something, I knew I’d best be getting back to the hotel while I still could. (I already told the part where I almost had to leave the hotel in pursuit of internet access. It turns out I’d rather be home with no water than trapped without the comfort of the world wide web at my fingertips. Anyway, all’s well that ends well.)

This morning on my way to breakfast, I ran into Dave loading his car with supplies for the trip to San Antonio and the chili cookoff.

That’s a lot of ingredients! And all fresh, too, not a can in sight.

About that breakfast.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had pancakes or sausage. Too long.
Thank you, Sit-n-Bull

And then this photo popped up in my Facebook memories today:

That was April 15, 2012, somewhere on the west coast of South Korea. Bridget Werner died of a heart attack in 2016. Her son, Christopher, died two years later. And Jee Yuen ended the life I was living back then when she left me. And this life I’m living here is what I have left.
Everything changes.
Just a song before I go
A lesson to be learned
Traveling twice the speed of sound
It's easy to get burned

Update: My water has been restored! Yay!

Shelter from the storm

'Twas in another lifetime
One of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue
The road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
A creature void of form
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya
Shelter from the storm"

We’ve had unseasonable rain these past two days. Whether that’s related to my current water outage, I can’t say. As I understand the third-hand version of events, Subic Water has a broken pipeline somewhere, and they’ll fix it as soon as they can find it. In the meantime, the residents of Alta Vista can’t flush a toilet or take a shower. In a display of just how confident I am that the problem will be resolved promptly, I’ve already booked a room for tonight.

My “date” with Nerissa went okay except for her arriving ten minutes late to our agreed-upon rendevous location at the 7/11 on Baloy Road. I got there ten minutes early because that’s what being on-time means to me. Filipinas are so notorious for being late that they even have a name for it–Filipina time. I was disappointed that Nerissa wasn’t an exception to the rule.

Anyway, she made some amends when she suggested that we walk to Baloy Beach, so that’s what we did. She’d never been to the floating bar, so we started out there. Given the stormy weather, we were the only customers. The water was rougher than normal as well, so the bar was rockin’, but not in the good kind of way. I was a little worried at first that Nerissa was going to experience a bout of seasickness, but she adapted quickly and wound up enjoying the motion.

Stormy seas
Baloy Beach resorts, Kokomo’s, Da’Kudos, and Treasure Island
With no passengers to ferry to and from shore, the raft operator did a little fishing.
And he caught one! A small one that I would have thrown back when I was a fisherman, but to each his own.

So, we enjoyed a few beers on board, and then it was time for dinner. I took Nerissa to Da’Kudos, which has the same owner and menu as one of my favorites, Mango’s. Alas, but not the same kitchen crew. I ordered the grilled pork chops, and Nerissa went with seafood chowder and fried calamari. It took over forty-five minutes to get our food. The food itself was okay, but not really worth the wait. We ate and left.

I took Nerissa for a nighttime beach walk which was surprisingly pleasant. My sight isn’t that good, but I saw something floating in the dark water and jokingly said, “It’s a dead body!” A voice responded, “No, I’m okay.” That gave me a startle and a chuckle because I didn’t really think it was a human.

I took Nerissa to McCoy’s beach bar for our nightcap. She wanted to videoke and said for me to go first. Well, I was drunk enough to be in a singing mood, so I did my rendition of Patsy Cline’s Crazy, one of my videoke standards.

I grew up on music like this; Patsy Cline was one of my Dad’s favorites.

We needed to get some assistance with making additional song selections, but the bar staff at McCoy’s couldn’t be bothered to pay us any attention. I was also drunk enough to let that fact of life here piss me off, so we finished our beers and left. Walked back to the trike stand on the National Highway, where I intended to put Nerissa in one for her ride home, but she insisted on riding with me, then dropping me off at home and continuing on her way. Okay, fine, so that’s what we did.

I had a message from Nerissa when I woke up, saying she made it home safely and thanking me for the night out. You’re welcome.

I had a nice chat with Hazel, the gal I met on Date In Asia, this morning. I’m looking forward to meeting her in person next week. I think she is too. Not a bargirl, early 30s, licensed caregiver, and has worked in several countries overseas. The kind of girl my readers have suggested would be more to my liking. One step at a time, but we are off to a positive start, I think.

None of the Friday hikers were up for a walk in the rain, so I did my standard solo street walk in Barretto.

7.51K of wet street walking

I saw a lot of pussy on this morning’s hike too:

Sorry if I disappointed you!

And when I got home, my Buddy boy was so excited to see me:

Whatever he’s dreaming about appears to have put a smile on his face.

Oh, I almost forgot about my lunch yesterday–a turkey dinner with all the fixins.

Hungry Man dinners are not nearly as good as I remember thinking they were.

Now I guess I’ll go pack my bag, then head into town for a shower. I’m doing the SOB tonight for the first time in a month or so, and I’m almost looking forward to it. And since I’m staying in a hotel room nearby, my drunken stumble home shouldn’t be a problem. Well, except for the crossing the highway part.

I’m leaving for San Antonio and the Fralics at the Fleet Reserve Association (FRA) at noon. Tomorrow’s main event is the chili cookoff, so we’ll see how that goes. Mary invited herself along, but that’s okay. What kind of Sugar Daddy would I be if I said no?

This one made me laugh for some reason.

During my walk this morning, that Bob Dylan tune that provided the title and introduction for today’s post came up on a playlist Spotify suggested for me. I hadn’t heard it for decades, and I rather enjoyed listening to it again. Perhaps you will too.

Well, I'm living in a foreign country
But I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge
Someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock
To when God and her were born
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya
Shelter from the storm"

Take the money and run

There is something very weird going on. I’ve been here almost five years and have never seen anything like it. Maybe it’s all coincidence, but damn, it makes me feel like I need to reevaluate what being generous means. Or revisit Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). I’m not saying that all the pleadings are illegitimate, but I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, and I’m going to have to toughen up.

#1. Joy’s phone needed to be repaired, and I agreed to meet her at the repair shop. Anticipating that the repairs would cost more than the phone was worth, I erased my backup phone and brought it with me. Enjoy your almost-new Samsung A-23 Joy.

#2. Maria wanted to give me a massage so she could buy milk for her baby. I told her I was busy.

#3. MJ needed medicine for her daughter and wanted to give me a massage to earn extra money. I told her I wasn’t in the mood but gave her an additional 500 pesos in her weekly “allowance” for the meds.

#4. Mary’s grandmother was sick, and she needed to take her to the doctor. To be fair, it was the first time Mary had ever directly asked me for cash. I gave it to her.

#5. Agnes messaged me that her electricity had been shut off, and her kids were crying because it was so hot in the house. In a weak moment, I agreed to help her out, and she met me at Annex bar to pick up the money. While she was there, I bought her a mango juice and asked if she was working tomorrow. She matter-of-factly told me that she was taking the day off to run errands. I was gobsmacked. You don’t have money to pay your electric bill, but you take time off work anyway? It didn’t appear she understood the connection. In that moment, I realized I had just violated Rule #1.

#6. Mae wanted to come see me because she lacked the funds to pay for the baby she is about to give birth to. That’s right, she’s 8+ months pregnant and wants to fool around for money. I didn’t even respond.

#7. Aine needs money to pay her bills and wanted to give me the opportunity to provide her with 1500 pesos to do so. I’ll give her credit that her request was more of an offer than blatant begging, but I still chose not to respond.

Again, it is not unusual for me to get these kinds of requests. But getting all of these in one day was borderline overwhelming. I’ve always tried to do what I can to help people in need, but I live on a budget and can’t help everyone. I’ve been providing regular support for MJ, but it seems like it is never enough. That’s frustrating. And the requests from people I don’t know that well, like bargirl acquaintances, are irritating. I’m not completely unsympathetic to their tales of woe, but the voice in my head is screaming, “And why, exactly, is that my responsibility to pay for?”

Anyway, that’s my rant for today. I need to toughen up. I’ve blocked people in the past, and I’ll probably reinstitute that practice when I feel like the only thing we have in common is my money.

In other news, I grilled some steaks yesterday for the first time in several months.

Steaks on the grill
Steaks ready to come off the grill
Steak on the plate

So, the meat was tender and flavorful. And about as thick as a slice of luncheon meat. I gave that feedback to the local vendor I bought them from, and she said I could request to have the meat sliced as thick as I wanted. Well, okay then, I’ll give them another try. Those four thin steaks would have been okay as two. The only problem is they ain’t cheap…that’s 2200 pesos ($44.) worth of beef in the first photo above.

Oh well, what else am I going to spend the money on, needy bargirls? I need to reevaluate my priorities, I suppose.

My Tuesday night bar crawl took me to Cheap Charlies, Annex, Sloppy Joe’s (rapidly becoming my favorite bar), and Alaska. We (with my pal Chris) had control of the music last night and played more of our favorites. Other patrons shouted out their requests, and it made for some interactive fun. I’d gone to Alaska to see Virginia (damn, I love that line), but she had been tabled by another customer. That’s the way it works in the girly bar business–first cum, first served) and I have no issues with that. Seeing the other dancers on stage with forlorn expressions that I wasn’t picking a substitute drinking partner made me a little sad for them, so I had my waitress bring me some 50 peso notes, and I handed out eight of them to the girls. Yeah, it’s a small thing, but better than nothing. I certainly would have spent more than that on drinks for Virginia, so win-win!

And that was my day.

Easter Monday Hash

The good news is that the feedback from yesterday’s Hash participants was almost all positive. And after this post, y’all will get a year of not having read about my exploits on the mountain. How’s that for a win-win situation?

The Hashers gathered at the usual meet-up venue, the VFW, and rode rented Jeepneys to the start of the trail. I walked the 2K from my house and met them there. Once the group had started the hike, I walked back to the On-Home venue and awaited their arrival. I was surprised that a couple of the runners were back in just over an hour. Everyone else trickled back in over the next couple of hours, and no one got lost or injured, so I’ll call that a successfully completed mission as a Hare.

The trail we laid.
Loading up the Jeeps
The trail begins at the end of this road.
While waiting for the Jeepneys to arrive, these two–Anal Receptive and Leech My Nuggets came strolling up on foot. They both live in Alta Vista and decided to hike to the start like me.
Arrival at the start
Everybody out
Blow My Pipe gives the guidance
And off they go into the wild blue yonder
Up, up, and away!
Making it look easy
Almost to the top
Mountain views
Cumslinger is an Easter Mountain virgin no more. Well done, sir!
Folks taking the “easy” valley route
Heading On-Home from the Govic Highway
Once again, traffic getting into town was insane. We avoided the highway as much as possible.
Our hosts for the evening
Sitting and drinking after the trail
I enjoy the outdoor ambiance of Smokes and Bottles.
The Hares for next week’s trail, Fuck Buddy, Dumb Ass, and Leaking Pussy. Should be fun and not so hard.
It’s nice on ice!
Circle up! Sixty-seven attended yesterday, including a large contingent from the Angeles City Corona Hash group.
A Hare on the ice. Honestly, it is not all that nice.
Some of the Gash from the Corona Hash
Whatever You Want made the mistake of wearing new shoes yesterday
And Bug Fucker celebrated his 69th run with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers

Glad things turned out as well as they did. Also glad I won’t be climbing Easter Mountain again until next year. On-On!

A commenter asked for a better view of the cornbread and carrot cake I baked for Easter. Here you go, Kevin! Full of carbs and calories!

That’s all for today.

Triple treat

Or triple threat. Either way, I successfully completed my third climb to the top of Eastern Mountain this week, and we now have a marked trail for this afternoon’s Hash.

My fellow Hares, Bug Fucker, and Blow My Pipe
That’s Alta Vista on that distant hillside.
The arrow points to the high point on Black Rock Ridge that the hard trail will climb after Easter Mountain. That valley to the right is where the “easy” trail avoids the second climb.
About halfway up the mountain, I came across these boots. Makes you wonder what the story behind their abandonment might be. They’d have to be pretty damn uncomfortable to prefer to go barefoot…
We marked the trail as best as we were able, hope that’s good enough. Honestly, I’m not happy with the down off Easter Mountain, but it will have to do this time.
Between the peaks
There is a second climb on the “easy” trail, up these steps to a rendezvous with the hard trail on the other side of Black Rock.
Today’s On-Home venue is Smokes and Bottles.
Something is going on with my GPS or map app; we didn’t get lost today. The trail is around 6K.

I’m going to walk out to the start from my house this afternoon to give the pre-trail briefing to the Hashers. Then I’ll walk the roads to Smokes and Bottles and wait for everyone there.

Yesterday’s Easter dinner with Mary went well, even if she was a little late. I don’t much care for “Filipina time” culture here, but in this case, she had a valid excuse…traffic has been practically gridlocked all weekend. Old timers here have never seen anything like it before.

Baby back ribs in the crockpot
And on the platter. They were falling off the bone tender and quite tasty, if I do say so myself.
I served them with corn on the cob…
And broccoli florets
With cornbread
And some Sweet Baby Ray’s
With carrot cake for dessert

It was a nice meal, and afterward, we took a nap which was also nice. We spent a couple of hours at Sloppy Joe’s, watching the insane traffic and crazier drivers on the highway. There is no traffic law enforcement, and people take full advantage of that. Oh, well. I’m just a guest in this country. Glad I don’t drive!

Okay, time to head out to perform my Hare responsibilities. Back with more tomorrow.

What’s the story?

I mean, every picture tells one, right? On my morning walk yesterday, I encountered this on the pavement as I exited Alta Vista:

I hope the story had a happy ending

Coincidentally, my younger brother posted this on his Facebook page today:

I don’t think I want to know

Anyway, here are some visual aids to supplement the story of my Saturday.

The lonely path I walked on my morning jaunt
A peaceful cabin in the woods or solitary confinement?
The dominant presence in my life this week. See you tomorrow, bitch!
Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
As I walked out in the streets of San Isidro, as I walked out in San Isidro one day…
The marketplace in Santo Tomas
River trash
Grub stop
A chicken burrito hits the spot

My evening started at an old haunt I hadn’t visited for a couple of months or more–Alley Cats. There’s not much reason to go there if you aren’t playing darts, but I popped in anyway. Nice to see my waitress friends Jerlyn and Nancy and share some drinks. Then I had a beer at Sloppy Joe’s while I figured out my next move. Originally, I had intended to do a feeding at Hideaway since they won’t be open on Easter. But Joy wasn’t working, so there was not much point. I knew Joy wanted to take her kids out for an Easter beach excursion, but she lacked the funds to do so. I figured I’d give her the money I would have spent on the feeding and make her day. We agreed to meet at the Jewel Cafe for some food and cash exchange.

Joy had a shrimp dish…
And I went with the Philly cheesesteak sandwich.

We parted ways after the meal, and I found myself at It Doesn’t Matter.

After a bit, Scott, Chris, and Dave showed up. They had been golfing in San Antonio, and the return trip (usually less than an hour) had taken them four. Yep, the traffic was that bad. Bumper to bumper all the way and gridlocked in places.
And here’s a picture of Barretto Beach yesterday. I have NEVER seen it anywhere near this crowded in all the years I’ve visited and lived here. Apparently, Baloy Beach was just as bad or worse.

I did my nightcap at Wet Spot last night, enjoying the company of Aine and Daddy Dave. Dave lives on Baloy, and he said this is the busiest it has been in over 18 years of residence. Took him 45 minutes to drive the two kilometers to the highway.

I bought some meat the other day from a friend who is selling to clients via Facebook.

Baby back ribs “made in Spain”–that’s a first for me. I’ve got them in the crockpot right now. We’ll see if they come out with a Spanish accent.
I also bought these ribeye steaks. Forty-four bucks for those skinny ass things. We’ll see how they taste, but I expect to be disappointed. They are marinating now.

We marked the Black Rock Ridge portion of tomorrow’s Hash trail this morning. We will mark the Easter mountain section in the morning.

That’s the Black Rock Ridge, as seen from Alta Vista.
The hard and easy trails split in the Divine Mercy cemetery.
Ken was there to help spread the powder and draw the arrows
Yep, I’ll be back for you tomorrow!
San Isidro in all her glory, such as it is.
Barretto by the bay
The valley where I will mark the “easy” trail after the Easter mountain climb.
It’s actually pretty nice up here, and truthfully, getting up wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be.
I find the going down part more difficult and more dangerous
This was the worst of it this morning, and we all survived. Let’s hope the Hashers make it down safely too.

And that brings you up to the minute. Mary is supposed to join me this afternoon to share in my Easter baby back ribs bounty. I’d best get busy on the corn muffins and side dishes. Back tomorrow with a full report!

A good Friday

As good as any and better than some. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it (lots of them!).

I started the morning with day 3 of scouting Monday’s Hash trail. This time we did the Black Rock Ridge, which will constitute the second climb (after Easter Mountain) for the hard trail. The “easy” trail will go through the valley that runs parallel to the ridge and rejoin the hard trail on the other side. We walked it backward yesterday, so all the ups will be downs on Monday and vice versa. We’ll go back out in the morning to lay down the powder and chalk markings.

Scott joined Jim and me for the flat portion of the trail…his ankle wasn’t quite ready for the ups and downs of the Black Rock Ridge.
The beginning of the end had us going up a long set of steps. Come Monday, we’ll be going down this way to finish the trail.
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
Scott bailed, and me and Jim headed to Black Rock. We met up with Scott again on the other side.
“That’s what is known as a tree, Jim. They grow all over these parts.”
Where the name “Black Rock” comes from.
The most challenging part of yesterday’s climb, practically straight up, requires hands and feet. I’m dreading coming down it tomorrow when we mark the trail.
A nice view from there though
Pushing on to the highest point on the ridgeline
Looking back down from here at Calapcuan
Had to navigate through some tall grass in this section
And here’s where everything will start on Monday, a climb to the top of Easter Mountain.
And now to find our way down. We did, but I didn’t like it. I have to come back up to mark it in the morning, but I don’t expect I’ll voluntarily do this trail in the future.
Reuniting with Scott in the graveyard. That sounds a little morbid, but that’s the way it happened.
Through the flat valley on the “easy” trail
Lollipops for her
And cookies for them
Some more of those Good Friday backslappers
“The beatings will continue until morale improves!”
Back on the National Highway
The great escape
Hung out to dry
Down the drain

That filled the morning hours. When beer o’clock rolled around, I decided to make Cheap Charlies my first stop of the night.

A flowering bush as I departed Alta Vista
I brought along a batch of brownies for the girls to enjoy. Here’s Alma dividing them up.

Alma and Nerissa were my drinking companions, and a bit later, Jim also showed up. And then a parade broke out on the highway below us. It looked like this:

In the beginning…
Jesus Christ standing tall and proud at the head of the parade
The King of Kings
Nice ass you got there, Jesus!
Hope floats
Victim of love?
That’s quite a cross to bear
Nailed it!
When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me…
Let it be
Waiting to be resurrected
I don’t want to be a doubting Thomas, but can these guys really help?
Let the Son shine in
Don’t worry, mama; the Son shall rise again…just give it a couple of days.
And finally, the parade has come to an end.
But the evening has just begun!
Next stop, Sloppy Joe’s!

I started feeling hungry. Thumbstar has a Friday night special where everything is two for the price of one, including food. So, I did the math and decided two shwarmas and two beers to wash them down sounds about right.

Shwarma was tasty and hit the spot.

However, my math calculation proved to be erroneous because I failed to consider the “Ashley factor.”

It seems beer impairs my ability to say “.no”
And then, I compounded my error by purchasing additional “two for one” items off the menu to share with the dancers.

So, my cheap meal wound up costing me around 1000 pesos. Oh, well.

I decided to make Whiskey Girl my nightcap bar. When I arrived and took my seat, Jenn came by to take my order. She declined when I offered her a drink because she was with another customer. Okay, well, at least I saved some money on lady drinks!

I went home early and alone as usual, but that’s just the way I roll these days. Most likely, more of the same is in store for tonight. What a life, eh?

Holy Hell!

Holy week here in the Philippines is a really big deal. Even after all these years of living and visiting, it’s still shocking. Traffic on the highway was bumper-to-bumper most of the day yesterday, and the hotels and beaches are packed with people for the long holiday weekend.

I remember my first-ever visit to the PI back in 2007. After I landed in Cebu City and arrived at my hotel, I noticed that many stores and businesses were closed. I asked what was happening and was told, “It’s Maundy Thursday, sir.” Well, despite being raised in the church (Pentecostal), I had to look it up. I guess it’s more of a Catholic thing, but it is a national holiday here in the PI.

One of the local traditions on Good Friday in this area is people climbing to the top of Easter Mountain to watch the sunrise. Yeah, that means climbing that mother fucker in the dark. I guess they have faith that God will guide their footsteps and keep them safe. I’m acquainted with a few folks who made that trek today, and I’ve got some of their photographs to share:

Cielo conquers the mountain while the lights of the city shine brightly in the night.
Here comes the sun
Breakfast on the mountaintop
They came, they saw, they conquered. Well done, ladies!

Another tradition for Good Friday is self-flagellation. I must have seen a dozen or more guys walking down the road slapping their backs with a whip-like device.

While trying to take this picture, I kept getting splashed with blood. One of my fellow hikers assured me it wasn’t real blood; it was all for show. Well, it looked real enough to gross me out, that’s for sure.

Anyway, it’s just another weekend for me, although I guess some of the bars might not be open on Easter, including Hideaway. Also, there will not be an SOB competition tonight. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of available venues so as to avoid dehydration, though.

Here’s how I celebrated Maundy Thursday this year. I did a solo 8K valley walk, then had an early lunch at Sit-n-Bull.

That’s the only picture I took on the hike.
The half of my club sandwich I couldn’t finish so brought home for my helper to enjoy.

As is becoming my Thursday evening tradition, I walked out to Baloy Beach to enjoy some time on the floating bar.

What’s not to like?
Lots of people in the water enjoying a late afternoon swim
Cliff and his lovely wife Ashley from IDM bar were on board; she took this picture and shared it on Facebook
Someone played “I can make your hands clap,” and all the waitresses got up to dance. Filipinas really love that song for some reason
I had baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls. They seemed to enjoy them.
And I met a new girl yesterday, Jelly. A little long in the tooth at 42, but she seems nice and sweet. Welcome aboard!

After I’d had my fill on the floater, I made my way up the beach and popped into McCoy’s for a cold one. No one there I knew, so after my beer, I walked back to Barretto. I paid a visit to Whiskey Girl and their “buy one, get one” promo, and also saw my favorite waitress, Jen.

The Whiskey Girl dance crew was working hard for my entertainment, so I brought the one on the front right down for a drink.

I was rapidly approaching my limit, but I ventured across the highway to finish my drinking spree at Queen Victoria. Didn’t see Rein or Irish there, though. That’s fine. From what I recall, I drank alone. Made it home safe and sound, without any trips, slips, or falls. That’s the best way to end the night. Well, mad passionate sex is good, too, I suppose. Maybe next time.

I hope you all have a Good Friday!

Here’s that song that brings Filipinas to their feet:

Goin’ down

So, let’s retrace yesterday’s events in reverse, starting with the last bar I visited and ending with the hike that began my day, shall we?

The last stop of the night was Wet Spot. I had run into Dave and his gal at my previous stop, and he invited me to sample the chili he was making a test run with in preparation for a chili cookoff next weekend in San Antonio. Alas, the guy in charge of the kettle reported that something went wrong with the beans, and the end result was inedible. Oh well, next time. And yes, I hope to attend the event in San Antonio on Saturday.

And Aine was there to keep me company, too.

Prior to the Wet Spot visit, I had made a rare appearance at Voodoo. The circumstances leading to that happening involved running into a group of my fellow Hashers on the street. I had left Hideaway and was undecided about where to go next. The guys said they were on their way to Mugshots. I advised them that Mugshots is closed on Wednesdays, so someone suggested Voodoo as an alternative, and I joined in.

L-R would be Dave, Simon, Ken, and Jim. I usually drink alone, so it was nice to have some male companionship for a change.
Well, my regular Voodoo girl wasn’t going to be denied her lady drink bounty just because I was there with friends.

I had started my night out with the Hideaway feeding. The gals seem to appreciate the effort, and it gives me some pleasure to fill the void in their bellies with some local goodness. Last night it was roast chicken and fried chicken with rice. Brownies and Oreo cookies were the dessert items.

Goodbye Oreo!

So, that was my night in Barretto. Now to my morning on Easter Mountain.

This was day 2 of scouting for Monday’s Hash trail. On day 1, we had found the path to the top we wanted, but the coming down was not to our liking. Yesterday we started where the downhill ends and made our way back to the top from there. There is no getting around the fact that it will be a hard, steep down, but at least the way we’ve chosen will be easier to follow. Tomorrow we’ll scout the second climb through the Black Rock ridgeline for the hard trail. The easy version will be a valley walk.

Ken came along on the scouting expedition
Heading for the hills
A pleasant walk through a mango grove
Into the grasses
The destination we are bound for
Ain’t no easy way to get there, though
Going up the down trail
Getting closer, one step at a time
The view from here
Poor Jim is destined to wait on the slowpokes
I’m the documentarian, and those photos aren’t going to take themselves…that’s my excuse, and I’m sticking with it!
Rockin’ it!
Getting higher and higher, just like in high school!
The final push upwards
Down in the valley, the valley so low…
Almost to the top
I don’t know why, but the tree and the rocks gave me a peaceful easy feeling.
That’s the village of Naugsol way down there.
And that would be San Isidro
Easter Mountain has two peaks. Our Hash climb will take us to the pictured first peak, and then we will walk to the other to begin our descent.
One more shot of the view from the top
Going back down the way we just came up
And that’s the way we did it!

In other news, CNN had a story featuring a Filipina cover girl for Vogue magazine.

Still looking spry at 106 years old. Dig those tattoos.

I was up and at ’em a little before 5:00 a.m. this morning and enjoyed the view.

I was just talkin’ to the moon, hopin’ someday soon that I’d be over, the memory of you…

So, feeling inspired, I mashed up some bananas and created about the best damn muffins in recent memory.

Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!
Funny how that works

Let me leave you with a song. It’s an oldie (of course) but not a tune I’m that familiar with. It came on last night at Hideaway with the video I’m posting below. It cracked me up, especially in light of the recent alcohol-related discussions we’ve had here in the comments. I may be bad, but at least I ain’t that bad. Or maybe I was back when I was drinking gin.

Upsi-daisy

I wound up doing all of the short trail (4K+) yesterday. It featured three climbs, something I would not normally do voluntarily. In fact, at the top of the first hill, a long, steep slog, I could have taken a left turn and avoided the other ups, but that would have meant finishing too soon, even by my low standards. I figured I could either bail at the bottom of the down or after the second climb. Turns out, at the bottom, there was nowhere else to go but up, and at the top of the second hill, there was nothing to be done but follow the trail to the end. Well, it’s always nice to get through a tough trail, so that sense of pride is my return for a hot afternoon’s work.

A Gods-eye view of the trail
We gathered at the Saver’s Appliance store on the edge of town and began our hike from there.
The Hare, Demolition Derby, provides last-minute guidance.
And we are On-On!
And the first big up started right away
What an inclination!
The trail was steeped in mystery…when do we reach the top?
Posers
Hello down there!
The trail teased us with a taste of flatness before resuming the upward angle.
And then, at last, we began the descent. But with each step downward, I knew a future step would lead me back up again.
It wasn’t a particularly easy down either.
The long and short of it
Buddy Fucker makes it through the fence…
…and so does Bum Burglar
The end of the second climb was a real bitch
Hill #2 is in the books!
Steep and slippery going down the second time too.
Easy does it
On the home stretch at last
Wasn’t that fun?
The Hash Circle at Blue Butterfly

My night after the hike went to shit. I was just in a pissy mood for some reason. Wound up leaving the circle early, being an asshole at IDM, and then heading home about the time the other Hashers arrived. Luckily, that behavior is not my norm. I was embarrassed thinking about it this morning.

I can and will do better.

Getting high on Palm Sunday

I can top that!

I made the ascent to the peak of Easter mountain yesterday without incident. In fact, I made it to the top without much difficulty, which is especially surprising. I had carried my portable nebulizer with me in anticipation of a breathing attack during the climb, but I didn’t need it. Oh sure, I did some huffing on puffing on the way up, but the normal kind, not the “oh my God, I can’t breathe” feeling I’ve been experiencing recently. Even my hiking companion, Jim, was surprised at my slow but steady progress up the mountain without the need to stop and rest. I hope this is a sign that whatever has been ailing my worn-out lungs has left the building. Another indication that things may be improving is that I’m sleeping through the night without the need to get up and nebulize. I’m not sure what has changed, but it occurs to me that perhaps my rejection of gin as my alcoholic beverage of choice had a positive impact. Whatever, feeling healthier is like, well, a breath of fresh air!

The purpose of yesterday’s climb was to scout the trail for the traditional Easter Monday Hash run. The way we are going to the top is steep but not as tough as some other paths we’ve Hashed recently. Now, getting back down was another matter. There is still a lot of grass, which made finding an easy-to-follow trail difficult. In fact, we are going back out on Wednesday to find a better alternative than what we took yesterday. We’ll do that by starting at the bottom where we want to come out and then working our way back up. So, yes, I have another Easter mountain climb in the near future, actually, two more because we’ll also need to go back and mark the trail on Easter Monday.

The Hashers will ride rented Jeepneys to the trailhead next week. Jim and I took a trike yesterday to the starting point.

We got dropped off here, in clear view of our objective.
Heading to our rendezvous with the mountain.
Let the climbing begin! You’ll see Jim waiting for me in most of these photos. I may be feeling better, but I’m still slow. Plus, I was taking the pictures.
Onward and upward!
Still, a long way to go
Looking back down from whence we came
I’m coming! I’m coming!
Getting closer
I’m falling further and further behind, it seems, but Jim is a patient man
A measure of our upwards progress
And now it is time to rock it!
Getting stoned!
Don’t look down!
The final push to the top
That’s going to be a new subdivision someday
The bay view from here
I’ll take that as a sign!
Summit achieved!
The proof that I made it too
The view from the top
As I mentioned, getting down was no easy task
Steep and slippery, and you can’t see your footing in that tall grass.
And there didn’t seem to be any clear path down
And it got a little jungle-like near the bottom
It was hot and dirty work getting down, but we will find a better way for the Hashers to follow.
This is where we came out and not exactly where we want to be. Further up the highway is the trail we want. We’ll explore that back up on Wednesday and then finalize our plans for the Monday Hash. Jim is taking the hardy group over the Black Rock ridge; I’ll lead the sane group through the valley.

We are off to a good start, though.

And now, for the rest of the day. I bought the Hideaway girls some Korean-style chicken wings and bulgogi from John’s place, along with a pizza from Shamboli’s for their Sunday feeding.

Bulgogi, wings, and seaweed (kim)
Hawaiian pizza
And Choco Pies for dessert
Kim, rice, and bulgogi wrap down the hatch!
Hideaway was unusually busy for a Sunday evening, and I had to sit at a table instead of the bar when I first arrived.

And after my time at Hideaway, I kept my promise and dropped by to see Aine, the new old girl at Wet Spot.

She’s still looking good for 40-something.
I also passed by the Catholic church, which was in full swing at the start of Holy Week. The sidewalk in front is lined with vendors selling, you guessed it, palm leaves. I don’t really know the significance of palms and Easter week, but it seems pretty important to the folks of faith here.

It is Hash Monday for me, so I need to prepare myself for that adventure. Hopefully, it goes as well as yesterday did for me.

A rock as black as my heart

Only three for the Friday group hike yesterday, and we made it our mission to conquer Black Rock mountain. Mission accomplished!

A 6.5k trek up and over the Black Rock
My fellow travelers, Stuart and Rob
Off we go!
Up the National Highway
And into the Santa Monica subdivision
On the streets of Santa Monica
Out onto the Govic Highway
The road to the rock
Heading up
And up
On top of Black Rock
The village of St. James in Calapacuan
A hazy day, but that’s Barretto off in the distance and Alta Vista on the hill to the left.
The valley our downward path will take us to
Heading down
And down. When dry, the rocks aren’t slippery; thank goodness
A brief stop for a cookie delivery
Down in the valley
A recent burn. ‘Tis the season which explains the haze in the air
I’ll be helping to scout a trail tomorrow for the Easter Monday Hash climb up Easter Mountain
Heading back to Alta Vista, where the trail ended for me

You can Relive the walk here if you so desire:

https://www.relive.cc/view/vAOZo4dXwy6

A nice hike on a warm day, satisfying my walkaholic urges. A few hours later, it was time to quench my alcoholic thirst. Mary wanted to visit some new bars (to her) with me. So, we met up at Sloppy Joe’s and went from there. While I waited for her arrival, I enjoyed the company of Chris, and his gal, who usually hangs out at It Doesn’t Matter. Both have that street-view outdoor ambiance I prefer. Mary arrived and had a couple of gin and soda drinks; then we moved on to Outback.

Outback has an indoor and a poolside bar; I opted for the beach seats.

Beer with a view
And some fish and chips for dinner

I next took Mary to a bar I’ve only visited twice since it opened named Luxe. It’s actually a very nice bar with some sexy dancers, but for whatever reason, it is just not my kind of place. We stayed for one drink; then, we moved a few doors down to Thumbstar.

Now, I’m not a regular at Thumbstar, either. It also has dancers, but most of them are fat and unattractive. Still, with their Friday night buy-one-get-one deal, it’s not a bad place to chill and enjoy the atmosphere. Mary thought the music was too loud, but the waitress claimed she wasn’t authorized to turn down the sound. We wound up staying anyway since the drinks were so cheap. Mary and the waitress did tequila shots together, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Got back home before nine, made up a batch of smoothies, then hit the hay. I woke up with Mary beside me (sleeping in her dress) and let her sleep in while I went about my morning routine. She woke in time to do the dog walk. I made her a breakfast of meatballs (leftover from the other night) with corn on the cob and garlic bread. Who says you can’t improvise in the morning?

After the meal, I walked Mary to the highway, and she caught a Jeep back home. I did my standard Saturday solo walk, which took me past the scene of yesterday’s accident. To my surprise, the Jeepney was still on the side of the road.

I didn’t take this photo. Guys were working to salvage parts when I walked by, so I didn’t bother. I have learned that the guy behind the Jeepney driver was killed, and you can see why from the damage. I suspect he was the one who was bleeding out in the video I posted yesterday.

And that brings y’all pretty much up to date on my so-called life.

I don’t have a drinking problem. I drink, I get drunk, I fall down. No problem!

The day in pictures

I have a doctor’s appointment at 11 a.m. and a meet-up with Mary in the afternoon, so I’m going to do my daily post about yesterday this morning. And I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.

The Wednesday Walkers, all three of us, made the trek out to the far side of Naugsol in Scott’s car. We don’t get out this way very often due to a lack of transportation options, but with our small turnouts of late, a single vehicle is all that’s needed.

Where we walked. About 6.5K when we were done.
My fellow hikers, Ed and Scott
Let’s do this!
It’s probably only 5K further out than my regular walks, but the scenery is different, and it has a whole other vibe for some reason.
And we ran into a locally famous hiker named Karl doing his own trek from the opposite direction. I have nothing but respect and admiration for Karl. He is in his late 70s and does these amazing historical hikes (like abandoned mines, military battlefields, etc.) that are long, challenging, and little traveled. And he goes it alone. Well done, sir!
Kids at the local sari-sari store
A military checkpoint in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure if there are insurgents in the area; I’ve never heard of any issues out this way.
A powerful tower!
Time to cross the river
That’s one way to do it.
The headwaters of the Matain river…
Resting on a shady rock
Do you see what I see?
Marching on the old dirt road
These native Aeta children were happy for some cookies.
As were this shy mother and child
Follow the leader
The path less taken
Nature’s handrail
The village of Alibang
Children of the village
The village church and schoolhouse
The final cookie delivery for the day
Road work
Finishing our hike in the shadow of Easter mountain

I really enjoyed this excursion, one of the best of our recent efforts.

There was still more to do, of course, including my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull, so I put it to work:

The night’s menu: fried chicken, chicken fingers, shanghai lumpia, and lasagna with mashed potatoes and garlic bread for Joy. Oh, with brownies for dessert.
Garlic bread down the hatch
A swallow of potatoes…

The beer flowed freely, as did the lady drinks, some friendly interactions with the other patrons, and a nice relaxing evening in my Hideaway.

I was sober enough to do a nightcap across town at Whiskey Girl, where I enjoyed two for the price of one beer and snuggle time with Jenn.

The dancers put on a nice show for me as well.

I’d call it a good day. Better than this guy had:

This is right down the street from my house. It was like this last night when I came home, and it was still there this morning on my dog walk. Looking at it, I can’t imagine what went wrong, but maybe he just made the left turn a bit too soon.

Yesterday was Vietnam Vets Day, in case you missed it. This tribute is pretty spot-on regarding how my feelings about the war evolved over time. Whatever your opinion about the rationale for engaging in that conflict, the young people who fought it deserve nothing but respect. I encourage you to give it a read.

The doctor’s visit today is about my blocked sinuses and to consult about the surgery that is likely required to resolve the issue. Hopefully, I’ll have good news to report tomorrow in that regard.

Do it to me one more time

Just another Tuesday in paradise. I made my grocery shopping excursion to Royal and wasn’t disappointed…higher prices and more items out of stockā€”the new normal.

I did get this box of Raisin Bran for 50% off (regular price $4.80). When I got home, I took a closer look and saw that the “use by” date is March 29. Oops! I’ll eat them anyway. What could go wrong?

My mountain friend came and gave me one of her special massages, leaving me panting for breath at the end. That gave me a chance to try out my new portable bedside nebulizer.

It must have worked; I’m still alive.

When beer o’clock (I can say that again!) rolled around, I decided to start with some food and headed over to John’s place.

I was in a pulled pork kind of mood.
Watching the sun as I dined.

After my meal, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers. I was waiting for 6:00 p.m. to arrive so I could use my 500 peso voucher at Hot Zone. I must say, the lineup of dancers last night was the best I’ve seen in quite some time. Owner Jay joined me at my table and brought a couple of dancers down from the stage to join us. There was another group in the bar with several other dancers at their table. That only left two girls on stage, and I felt kind of sorry for them, so I asked Jay if I should have them join us too. He thought that was a fine idea and instructed me on the Hot Zone way to invite a girl down:

“Stand beside the stage. Rub your hands together. The girl will come over to you and pull her top down. Gently rub her breasts, and then she will come to your table.”

That’s just what I did with both of them, and it worked like a charm! They each ordered double lady drinks (shame on me for not specifying otherwise), but since I had seen and touched their boobs, I guess they earned the extra commission.

In keeping with my newly instituted “drink responsibly” policy, I had reached my limit and it was time to bill out and go home. My beers did not exceed the 500 pesos credit on my voucher, but the two lady drinks totaled 600 pesos. So, once again, my coupon wound up costing me money. Oh, well. I’m rarely at Hot Zone, and I did enjoy me some eye candy. I’d say it was worth it.

Another night of getting home before 8:00 p.m. and being asleep before 9. I really need to stretch that out some, I think. Keeping everything else in balance, of course. I don’t want to fall into more bad habits.

Feeding night at Hideaway tonight to look forward to. A very nice Wednesday Walkers hike on the far side of Naugsol this morning I’ll post about tomorrow.

As always, thanks for coming by. It’s bound to get better.

A nothing burger Hash

I’m still here. So far. I hope the transition to the new host goes smoothly.

I don’t much care for the Hare for yesterday’s trail. It was a hotter than usual afternoon. The trail started halfway up Rizal Extension, which made it a pain in the ass to get to for me. Which is why I said fuck it and made my own trail. Actually, I met up with Scott, whose healing ankle wasn’t up for a mountain climb, and did a street walk with him. At the end of our hike, we had a late lunch/early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.

I did the chimichangas.

After our meal, we walked up the street to the VFW for the Hash circle. I got called out for a Hash crash and was required to sit on the ice for my non-Hash-related drunken tumble on Friday night. That’s okay.

After the Hash circle, I joined the group at It Doesn’t Matter for some more beers. I was mindful of my inebriation level and departed prior to reaching the danger zone. It feels good to be back in control!

Hopefully, it will be a more normal Hash adventure next week with pictures and everything.