Category Archives: Life in the Philippines

Smiles, frowns, and SOBs

Posted on by
4
I wonder why I posted this.

A mostly fun-filled Friday, starting with an enjoyable hike from Subic town to Castillejos. The start and end weren’t so pleasant for me, though. I arrived at our standard meet-up place at the 7/11 on Baloy road and realized I hadn’t brought my hiking stick. I checked with Scott about whether I’d need it, and he thought there would be places along the trail where it would be handy to have. Hmm, what to do? We have an ethos in the walking group about departing right on time at 0900. That gave me about 7 minutes to fetch my stick. Grabbed a trike, and off we went. It took him a bit to get across the highway traffic, and then it seemed like his engine was weak and could only slowly putt up the hill to my place. Ran in, grabbed the pole, jumped back into the trike, and the driver mostly coasted back down the hill. Damn it. I normally don’t care about speed, and I knew the group wouldn’t leave without me, but I’ve been big on that whole we leave on time thing, so I hated to appear like a hypocrite. I got back at 9:01 and took some good-natured ribbing for being late, but I had my trekking pole. We caught a jeep to the start of trail and commenced with the hike.

The epilog to the pole story is that after the bus ride back to Barretto, I realized I had left my stick on the bus. Jesus Christ. Well, I figured it was gone for good, but then I got a message from another hiker who had continued on to Olongapo, saying she had found my pole on the floor where I had been sitting. She brought it to me last night, so I avoided the hassle of finding a replacement. I swear to God, one of these mornings, I’m going to wake up and discover I’m the fucking president of the USA.

As usual, I’ll share the photos from the hike at the end of this post.

My afternoon view as I headed into town
And that Navy ship I mentioned the other day is still anchored in the harbor. I haven’t seen any sailors in town, though, so I guess the crew is stuck on board.

The other big event yesterday was the weekly SOB dance contest. I made the command decision to switch back to San Mig Zero (low alcohol/low calorie) beer for the night. It’s a three-hour gathering, and it is just easier to control my beer intake and stay mostly sober than it is with gin. Seemed to work out alright in that regard; we’ll have to see how my belly responds. The competition was held at The Green Room, and the place was absolutely packed. Even saw a couple of Korean tourists there. Little by little, the world is returning to normal. I’ve given up on taking pictures, but here are some provided by the sponsor:

The Green Room team
The Wet Spot girls. They wound up winning the contest.
The Whiskey Girl team.
Alaska Club, featuring the Karen I used to crush on.
And the hotties from Hot Zone.

For whatever reason, no team shots were posted for Queen Victoria and Voodoo. Anyway, here are some action shots from the contest.

This sweetie was fun to watch.
What’s not to like?
Okay, you can be on top.
Let’s split the difference.
Now, that’s impressive. I’m trying to think how I must look trying to get up off the floor after doing my crunches.

I like having company at these events, but from the time I arrived, not one gal from The Green Room even approached me. I understand, I mean, I’m an infrequent visitor, so I guess the girls were waiting to serve their regular customers. Oddly enough, the CR is a shared facility with Wet Spot, and when I got up to take a piss, I ran into my favorite Aine. The gals from Wet Spot can earn drink commission in The Green Room (and vice-versa, same owner), so I invited Aine to join me. Wound up spending a thousand pesos on lady drinks for her. That’s okay; better than drinking alone.

I skipped out on the Aftermath gathering; I needed to go meet up with Reggie to get my walking stick back. She was playing darts at Johannson’s. I had one beer there, then finished my night at the Snack Bar. The friend I had specifically gone to see wasn’t there, which was disappointing. The staff took good care of me, though.

And here we are on the cusp of another Saturday. There is going to be a Hash bar crawl tonight as part of the anniversary festivities. The meet-up is at It Doesn’t Matter, so I’ll start there and see what happens. Probably not going to do a group activity tonight, but we’ll see. The Corona Hash from Angeles is in town, and they are doing a run tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so I probably won’t be doing the hike. I do plan to drop in on their circle at Da’Kudos afterward, though.

That pretty much brings you up to date on my life here in the Philippines. At least, as far as I remember.

He’s playin’ my song…

Oh shit. I just realized I forgot to post the hike photos. Damn. Here they are:

Our path took us up into the hills above Subic and back down on the other side to Castillejos. Just under 8K, all told.
Waiting to cross the road after exiting the Jeepney.
Our merry band of troopers for the day.
Let’s roll!
There must be an interesting story about how a Confederate battle flag wound up here.
Leaving the pavement behind for a while.
Life in the woods.
This bridge was actually quite sturdy. Even Martin crossed it with confidence.
Getting to the roots of erosion.
Not exactly a walk in the park
Rural living in the extreme.
A view from the top.
Taking stock of our situation. The lady on the left kindly gave us guidance on the best route to take from here.
We briefly considered seeing where this road construction might lead but decided to save that quest for another day.
So down we go.
Onward and downward.
Farmland in the backwoods of Castillejos
Single file, everyone!
Hi-Ho! A farm in the dale.
Hello, baboy!
The hearty women-folk who joined in the adventure, L-R: Reggie, Jesse, and Bhel.
Cookie time!
The rice crop appears robust.
On the pavement once more.
A hard-working family bringing home the fuel needed to prepare their meals.
Korean food and culture are surprisingly big things here.
Waiting for a ride back to Barretto. The first three Jeepneys to come by were already full.
Then we caught a ride on a passing bus.

None of us wore masks, and no one said a word about it. I’d say slavemask usage is down to about 50% these days.

Scott and I hopped off the bus for lunch at Kamto.
I went with the honey wings, and they were delicious, as usual.

Alright, have I forgotten anything? Okay, good. See you back here tomorrow!

Eats and drinks

Posted on by
Reply
It’s a whole new perspective on things!

Having crispy crittered my lunch, I started my evening out in search of food. John’s place being on the other side of town, had the added benefit of getting in some extra steps (I wound up with 17,852/13.72K on the day). John has updated his menu to include his various steak selections:

I’d like to grab some ribeyes to grill at home, but damn, the way I’ve been fucking up in the kitchen, it would be a costly endeavor if burned them. Fifty bucks to eat one in-house is also hard to stomach.

I went with one of my favorites instead:

The pulled pork sandwich is at a more reasonably priced $7. It was delicious, and the added cole slaw on top was a nice touch.

After my meal, I began a mini-bar crawl at Hideaway. I didn’t come prepared to provide any treats for the gals like I usually do, but then the Belgian chocolate guy showed up, so I bought some of his wares for the girls to enjoy.

My next stop was Sloppy Joe’s, a new bar I still need to review. I was the only customer there to take advantage of their buy one/take one drink special. It’s actually a great deal. Finished the second gin and soda, then moved on up the highway to Johannson’s. Another place I’m going to need to review soon. I was the only person at the bar (there were a couple of diners), but my pal Erik was walking by, so he came in and joined me. We had a little chat with our drinks, and then I got a message from Lydell at Kamto inviting me to buy her drinks join her there. Kamto, here I come! (I made sure I had my wallet in my pocket this time!)

As is my custom, I bought the three waitresses (Lydell, Heidi, and Rose) a drink. A bit later, Roseanne, the bartender at Snackbar who recently gave birth, dropped in. It was good to see her again, so I bought her a drink too. I commented on her weight reduction, and she noted that my belly was still as big as ever. Hey, I’m working on it!

L-R, Roseanne, Heidi, and Lydell. They are holding the roses I bought for them from a flower vendor walking by.
And here’s a good picture of my gin and soda. I have it served in a large glass and also buy the can of soda. That really waters down the one shot of gin I consume. I’m getting better at maintaining a balance so buzzed doesn’t devolve into drunkenness.

I paid my tab, around 1200 pesos if I recall, and made Outback my last call of the night. I think I had two there and bought lady drinks for Bhel and another waitress. Then I caught the trike back home.

One of the items I purchased on my wasted trip to the S&R superstore was a half gallon of ice cream. Ice cream is not really on my diet, of course, and I’ve refrained from buying it on my previous trips to Royal. But when I saw this, I couldn’t resist.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Black Walnut since I moved here. One of my all-time favorite flavors. I had some in a bowl. Then I went back for the box. It was good while it lasted!

And that’s the way my last night went down. It’s another SOB Friday, so I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight. See you tomorrow with a full report.

Hold on

Posted on by
2

“Like attracts like. Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes, automatically that turns away those who have nothing to learn from who we are, and attracts those who do, and from whom we have to learn, as well.” ― Richard Bach

Thanks for the memories, Facebook. I posted that five years ago, and it hasn’t worked yet. However, Illusions is still one of my all-time favorite books.

Speaking of memories, today is my mother’s birthday.

It’s been over eleven years now since you left this world behind. Miss you!

It was also five years ago that we shut down our office on Yongsan Garrison in Seoul and completed the move to Camp Humphreys in Pyeongtaek.

The end of an era. I retired ten months after the move. It is the people I miss, not the work.

Here’s one more blast from the past:

Yep, I rocked the 80s! I’m just now thinking; I’d like to go back in time and slap some sense into that guy. But, no, it turned out all right, I suppose. I could have done some things differently, but the path I took led me here, and I reckon this is where I’m supposed to be.

I’ve been in a contemplative mood lately. I’m not sure if this is a sign that I’m on the verge of acceptance of the way things are, or maybe it’s a surrender of what I’d hoped for and dreamed about. As empty and as shallow as my life feels sometimes, it is really not as bad as all that. I’ve had recent opportunities to dive back into a relationship, and I’ve balked. Seems it is easier to complain about what you don’t have than to give up the freedom the life I’m currently living brings. I’ll figure it out eventually.

I was playing a random “made for you” playlist on Spotify. And this song I’d never heard before came on and seemed to confirm my thinking.

I've been drifting on the sea of heartbreak
Tryin' to get myself ashore 
For so long, for so long
Listenin' to the strangest stories
Wondering where it all went wrong
For so long, for so long

But hold on hold on hold on 
To what you've got
So hold on hold on hold on 
To what you've got

I've been dreaming of a new tomorrow
And walkin' in the morning sun
For so long, for so long
There's no time for revolution
I've got to be travellin' on
Here so long, for so long

But hold on hold on hold on 
To what you've got
So hold on hold on hold on 
To what you've got

Anyway, it’s all good.

Speaking of good, that’s an apt description of the Wednesday Walkers group hike yesterday. Don’t believe me? Well, the pictures don’t lie:

It’s a class act for Snackbar to set up a free water table for our group hikes. I carry my own, of course, but felt obligated to add a bottle to my backpack to show my appreciation.
We routinely walk through some poor neighborhoods, but this spot had some charm. A big old shade tree and a covered area with a table, a wooden recliner, and a hammock. An excellent spot to chill and let go of your worries. And it’s free.
The first climb of the day begins.
A group shot during a respite on the way up.
The climb continues.
Looking back from whence we came.
Quite a few ships were in the bay, including a U.S. Navy vessel. Sorry, my photography skills didn’t do a better job capturing that scene.
Almost to the top.
Over our heads, the grass it was.
Taking in the view.
My pretty little town.
The ever-present Easter mountain.
Marching onward.
The second and last climb of the morning was a little steeper but shorter than the first.
The shrubs were a bit thicket seems. (Sorry, couldn’t resist)
Heading for town.
Over the creek.
Back on the road again.
After hike refreshments at Dynamite Dick’s.

I keep forgetting things. This just now happened:

So much for lunch, although I guess that’s one way to avoid the carbs.

Anyway, this is what I woke up to this morning:

What have I got to complain about?

I just need to focus more on the good, ignore the bad, and don’t screw the ugly!

Off to the market

Posted on by
4

Yeah, when going shopping is the headline of the post, you know you are in for a very large dose of unexcitement. Hmm, my spellchecker says unexcitement isn’t a word. How else do you describe an unexciting life? (For the record, I know it is not a word; I was taking creative liberty with the language. I have a license to do so.)

Anyway, I did change things up by making a rare journey out to Dau, a suburb of Angeles City, to do my weekly shopping at the S&R store, the local equivalent of Costco. Well, similar in style but not in quality. Still, after weeks of frustration with being unable to find desired items (like fresh milk) at Royal, I decided to splurge and take the expensive trip to fill my larder with those things I most desire. By expensive, I mean paying my driver 3500 pesos ($70) to take me there. I couldn’t remember the last time I had shopped at S&R, but it turns out it was over a year ago. I learned that fact when I was advised that my membership had expired and I needed to pay 700 pesos for a renewal.

Was it worth it? Not really. My disappointment in discovering that many of the things I wanted were also not available here, but also things I routinely purchase at Royal weren’t on the shelves at S&R, reminded me of why it had been over a year since my last visit. They did have fresh milk in stock, though–the same brand I used to purchase back when I shopped at the commissary:

I only bought one, though, because the expiration date is only a week away.

I still somehow managed to spend almost $300. (my weekly budget is $200) buying too much of what I could find despite not finding other things I needed, like cookies for the kids and dog food. Seriously, who doesn’t stock canned dog food in a superstore? Oh well, rant over.

My Tuesday evening activities were nothing to write home blog about either. But that won’t stop me. My friend had asked me to visit her at Snackbar, and so I started out there. I needed to pick up something at the 7/11 next door, and as I approached, I saw the Dick was sitting in front of Snackbar. When I came out of 7/11, he was gone. I guess our feelings are mutual.

I had an errand to run (delivering some meds for my hungover friend at Outback, but I promised to return to Snackbar later in the evening. After Outback, I popped into Kamto for a bite to eat. It’s always nice to spend a little time with Lydell and Heidi.

I met Heidi’s mother (she took the picture), and we are now Facebook friends. That’s Lydell I’m sitting with.

By the time I made it back to Snackbar, my friend had gone home for the night. I had one more drink for the road and joined her. Well, not like that. I went home alone, not sure about her.

And that’s how I spent my Tuesday. Maybe I should write a book:

Somebody has to be the bad example, I suppose.

Dumb luck

Posted on by
2

Yesterday’s Hash went well–lots of compliments on the trail, no one got lost, and no one was injured. Some of the hard-core guys were surprised that the trail was as challenging as it was. I told Pubic Head (Scott) as we marked the second hill that people aren’t going to believe you did this climb voluntarily. The skies were threatening in the early afternoon, but the rain held off until we had completed the Hash circle rituals.

During the circle, we honored Fucking Old Man for the rare accomplishment of completing 1000 runs. I just did the math in my head, and that’s at least 20 years of Hashing with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers (SBH3). Coincidentally, next week our kennel will celebrate its 29th anniversary.

Jerry has been in poor health recently, so this accomplishment is all the more impressive.

We also named one of the gals I’ve been sponsoring (there are three) upon completion of her 5th run with the SBH3.

Allow me to introduce you to Trouble Cumming. For a Hasher named Cum Together, that could prove to be a problem.

I’ll share some photos from the Hash trail later in this post.

When you Hare, you are not required to hike the trail you laid, although some Hares do. In fact, 18-Kilo Ass did that yesterday. We’d finished marking the trail at around 11:00. I went back to the VFW at 2:00 to give the Hashers last-minute guidance and then sent them on their way. I figured we would not see anyone back until 3:30 or so, so I took a walk to the Snackbar to kill some time. I was disappointed to see the Dick sitting outside, but I’m not going to be dissuaded from going where I want by some asshole. I went inside and had my first beer in a week. Bought all the girls an ice cream cone, had a second beer, then headed back to the VFW for the Hash circle.

By the time the circle was completed, I’d had a few San Miguel Zeros and wasn’t feeling the need for any more. The girls I sponsored were even drunker than I was and wanted me to join them for some after-Hash bar hopping fun. I declined and suggested to the drunkest one that she should go home. I even offered to pay her trike fare. She refused my offer, insisting she was okay. A few minutes later, she dropped her beer, and of course, the bottle shattered and sprayed its contents around. Shortly after that, she fell down on her ass. Well, I sponsored her, but I’m not responsible for her actions. I’d seen enough, though, and headed out. (For the record, she did message me this morning apologizing and saying she would refrain from overdoing it in the future. I respect that and tend to believe her.)

I decided to walk to Kamto and grab a bite to eat before heading home. But before I’d gone far, the skies opened up, lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rain poured down on my umbrella-less head. I took shelter in the recently reopened Johansson’s. They didn’t have Zero available, so I did a Light. It wasn’t busy, and I didn’t know anyone there, so I entertained myself with my phone. And that’s where I encountered a beggar. She was relentless and didn’t want to take “no” for an answer. I know she had been drinking, but damn, I wasn’t in the mood, and I told her so, but she wouldn’t accept my refusal. I was actually getting quite perturbed, so I just ignored her continued entreaties.

Oh, one thing was different about this. She wasn’t asking for money. She wanted to come home with me. And as hard as it is to believe, I just wasn’t interested in what she was offering. Now, regular readers may be thinking that doesn’t sound like me, and yeah, I can’t really remember saying no to an otherwise attractive woman so clearly in the mood. Just goes to show that my “big head” still can veto the usually horny little head on occasion. (She also messaged me this morning and apologized for her “naughty” behavior blaming it on all the alcohol she had ingested and feeling overwhelmed by loneliness. I told her no apology was necessary; it just wasn’t the right time to get together.)

After my second beer, the rain let up, so I paid my tab and made a dash for Kamto. A couple of friends were there as well as the sexy and sweet bar staff. I ordered up some food (quesadilla and chicken wings) and a beer. I’d been there maybe thirty minutes when it occurred to me that the waitresses might be thirsty. I reached for my wallet to ascertain that I had sufficient funds for that act of generosity–and it wasn’t there! I checked all my pockets–nothing. Looked under my seat and on the floor–nope. Well, I had just used it at Johansson’s, so I must have left it on the bar after paying my tab there. I dashed out of Kamto and literally ran up the highway back to Johansson’s.

The bartender seemed surprised to see me back. I asked her if I had left my wallet there. “No, sir,” she told me. I looked around under my barstool and thought, “oh, shit. I’m fucked.” I had my credit card, a little cash, my Alien Registration Card, and some other stuff in there that would be a pain in the ass to replace. I decided to retrace my steps to Kamto on the slim chance that I might find it on the street. The bartender followed me outside as I began my search. I’d taken just a couple of steps when she called out, “what’s that on the sidewalk?” I’ll be damned; my black wallet was lying there soaked with rain. I picked it up, looked inside, and all the contents were intact. I must not have placed it securely in my pocket and it fell out unnoticed not far from the door as I exited. That was dumb. I was lucky that no one had walked by and noticed it on the sidewalk (most people walk on the shoulder of the road).

It was quite a relief, and I was glad to be free from the burdens that would have ensued trying to replace my shit. Back to Kamto, bought the drinks for the girls, ate my food, and triked home, resolved to be smarter and more careful in the future. Could be I’ve used up all my luck.

To the Hash pics then:

The best trail ever (this week)
On-On!
Martin leading the way
Scott getting it done
Yours truly bring up the rear. As usual.
Heading up to the lonely family
Way to go, grandma.
The grass is high, but I’m holding on
Knock it all down, Martin!
My regular cookie kids in Marian Hills.
The Easter mountain shot you’ve been waiting for.
Making my mark in the world.
Taking a powder
At mountain mama Olvia’s place for a quick rest stop.
The goat seems to be saying “that really gets my human.”
Drink it up, Martin!
Heading down again
You guys look tired!
It’s all roadwork from here to the VFW.
Hares on ice!
A gathering of Hash Gash.

So, that’s how things went down before, during, and after the Hash. Is there a common denominator?

Damn it!

The steaks were high last night

Posted on by
2

It’s Hash Monday, and I’m just back from marking the trail with my fellow Hares, Pubic Head, and 18-Kilo Ass. We did a last-minute change-up, deciding the long highway walk was unwarranted given the sunny weather. We kept it mostly in the dirt and added a second climb, but it is still only around 5K. It may not be the best trail ever, but it is for sure the best one this week!

I decided it had been too long since I had a tasty steak, so I headed out to John’s place to start my Sunday night out. In an odd coincidence, as I am walking along the highway, a car pulls over; the back seat passenger rolls down her window and asks me if I know how to get to John’s Sushi and Steak. From where I stood, it was just a couple of blocks away, so I provided directions and continued to my destination. They arrived shortly after I did, and we had a pleasant meet-and-greet conversation in the restaurant. An American, his Filipina wife, and what I presume was their teenage daughter. Good times!

My dinner did not disappoint. A nice tender and juicy USDA New York cut served with baked potato and salad. It was on special for 995 pesos or just under twenty bucks. Actually, that’s a decent deal, considering how expensive imported American beef is these days.

I also ordered take-out bulgogi and Korean-style chicken wings for Joy and her co-workers at Hideaway bar. Stayed there for a couple of drinks, then moved on to Cheap Charlies.

Rose, the birthday girl, wasn’t working, and Marilou was. By working, I mean being wrapped up in the arms of another customer. You know, I’ve been around the bar scene a long time, and I understand perfectly well how the game is played. It is only when fools like me think they are something special to a bargirl that disappointment sets in. Don’t get me wrong, Marilou was just doing her job, and she is damn good at it. She almost had me believing she was “different.” Silly me. Anyway, her public display of affection with that guy was a stark reminder that a woman like her is not girlfriend material. As the saying goes: “you can take the girl out of the bar, but you can’t take the bar out of the girl.”

As I sat there contemplating that kick in the nuts, I got a message from my “friends” at Snackbar/Kamto (the girls work at both venues, depending on where they are needed) asking me to join them. Well, an invite is always nicer than just dropping in and seeing what I saw with Marilou, so I figured, why not? And it was pleasant enough hanging with the gals and being flirty. Of course, knowing it was the drink commissions they love and not me was fresh in mind.

Oh well, it’s all part of the game, and I’ve chosen to play along. No point in complaining about it; I just need to maintain my awareness level and not start believing the fantasies are real.

That’s pretty much the way it works around here.

Pissed off

Posted on by
6

Or more accurately, pissed on. I’ll get to that in a minute.

So, these last few weeks, I’ve really been besieged with requests for “loans” and financial assistance. Usually, the amounts requested aren’t that large–fifty bucks, sometimes $100, occasionally more than that. There is almost always an “emergency” involved–electric bill, rent overdue, no food for the kids. I try to be as accommodating as I can, but I also have to consider the source and enforce Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). These “small” requests add up, and I do have a fixed income and try to live within my budget. In fact, these past couple of months, I have had to dip into my savings account, which I supposedly maintain for my own potential emergencies. This is my long-winded way of saying I need to toughen up and say “no” more often.

Yesterday, I received a message from “Jona” asking for a loan of 3500 pesos to pay her electric bill. She promised to repay me on the 25th when she gets paid. I’ve heard that line before, including from Jona, and in over four years of living here, I’ve only been repaid one time. I believe “loan” is the Tagalog equivalent of “gift.” Anyway, what especially rankled me about Jona’s request was that I almost never hear from her unless she wants something from me. That’s use and abuse, not friendship. I told her, “sorry, no.” I don’t expect I’ll ever hear from her again.

I also heard from Joy, who needed money to buy medicine for her sick child. She had told me earlier that the daughter was running a fever, and she was taking her to the doctor. She sent me a picture of the lab receipt and diagnosis of “blood infection.” Joy had spent all her available money on the doctor and didn’t have funds for the prescription. That’s the kind of request I’m not going to refuse. I gave her the 2000 pesos she needed, and she later sent photos showing her making the purchase at the pharmacy. Begging done right!

I say all of the above, knowing full well that I’m likely to spend more than the total of both requests buying lady drinks in the bars. Well, that’s a form of charity too, I suppose.

Speaking of the bars, I had my work cut out for me maximizing the use of the coupons I had won at the SOB on Friday. I actually started at Blue Butterfly because it was near the ATM, and I was waiting for Joy to claim her medicine money. When that transaction was completed, I moved on to The Green Room, where I had my most valuable coupon–a voucher worth 500 pesos.

I’m not a frequent visitor at The Green Room, preferring Wet Spot next door, so I didn’t know any of the gals working last night. I tried a little flirty humor with my waitress but she was pretty clearly not interested in anything I might have to offer. I also had a 10% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull for food ordered in the bar. So, I ordered a chef salad and a pizza.

This pic doesn’t do the salad justice. It was a huge meaty thing (roast chicken and bacon) and quite tasty.

The previous time I was in The Green Room, the girls had been more aggressive in their pursuit of lady drinks. Last night I was still sitting alone when the pizza arrived, so I left it in the box, figuring I’d just carry it with me to the next bar I visited. Then I got a message from my pal Erik asking where I was, so I invited him and his girlfriend to join me for pizza, and they accepted. I was glad I found someone to enjoy the food.

In due course, the waitress advised that I had exhausted the 500 peso voucher (those gin and sodas aren’t cheap, especially the way I drink them). Another friend of Erik’s was at the bar, so they joined him, and I headed next door to Wet Spot.

The night before, when I was there after the SOB with the girls from Snackbar, I had invited my Wet Spot regular, Aine, to join us. She was very unfriendly, guzzled the drink I had bought her, and walked away. When I saw Aine last night, I confronted her about her rude behavior and asked why she had acted that way. “I was jealous.” Oh boy, that’s a red flag.

Heidi sent me this photo of the three of us together at Whiskey. Why would a 40-year-old bargirl be jealous of these two 20-something hotties? Hmm, I guess I just answered my own question.

Anyway, I decided to be forgiving and allowed her to join me at my table. I’m not sure what got into me (well, other than a lot of gin), but before long, I had Aine and three waitresses imbibing at my table with me. That’s usually not my style. And then, I got a message from Lydell inviting me to join them at Kamto. Hoo boy. Well, it was still technically an hour before my bedtime, so I headed on up the street.

And it was a good time, from what I remember. A nice expat crowd, including Erik and his girl, Played some music, had some chats, bought a round of drinks for the ladies, and then I bailed out for home.

Now, I woke up during the night as I usually do, needing to take a pee. And that’s when I noticed, or rather felt, that I already had. Yep, I was sleeping at the wet spot, and not the good kind. It’s been a long time since I’ve pissed the bed. I think the last time it happened, I had dreamed I was standing at the toilet and woke up immediately when the wetness hit. I slept through the event last night.

Fuck, I’m turning into the stereotypical old man, it seems. Let’s hope this was a one-off event and won’t be repeated. What will I do if it does? It Depends. *ahem*

No real damage done. Other than to my pride. The helper cleaned the mattress, washed the cover, and changed the sheets. I’m good to go again. Er, wait a minute, let me rephrase that…

I’m going to treat myself to Sunday dinner at John’s place this evening. I might even go for a steak. Promised Joy I’d come by Hideaway, and it’s Rose’s birthday at Cheap Charlies. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me again. Oh well, someone has to do it.

A SOBering experience

Posted on by
3

As Fridays go, yesterday was a good one. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it. Oh, if you don’t like hiking photos, scroll on down for the pics from the SOB dance contest. If you don’t like sexy Filipinas either, you are on the wrong blog!

First, let’s take a gander into the future, shall we? Next Monday, I’ll be Hareing with Scott and Martin. It was sunny yesterday, and the forecast is not showing any rain on Monday either, so we tweaked our planned trail to include a hill and some off-road trekking.

This is about 90% of what our trail will be. Starting and finishing at the VFW and doing a little tweak near the end to spend less time on the National Highway.
We left from Snackbar, where pretty Jamaica advised us that the owner was providing all hikers with free bottled water.
We’ll be going through Alta Vista on the way out.
Out of Alta Vista and into the wild.
I’m glad we were able to add some dirt walking for the Hashers.
It’s a jungle out there!
There’s a mountain family way out here in the middle of nowhere. This grandma had a cane, and I just can’t imagine she could hike back to civilization. At least she has the kids and grandkids around to keep her company.
An expansion of the living quarters is in progress. No electricity up here, and the water comes from a nearby creek. That ain’t the life for me!
It looks like they won’t go hungry, at least.
The nearest neighbors are about a kilometer away on the other side of the hill.
Back in the flatlands and crossing the river on bridge #3
A dog scavenging through the trash as Easter mountain looks on.
Hey, the runners ought to like this stretch.
Everyone seems to like cookies.
That girl on the right called me by name, which was a little disconcerting. Turns out her mama works at Cheap Charlies, and they have seen me on previous hikes. It’s a small town, even out here in the countryside.
That’s Alta Vista on the hillside across the valley.
Keep on truckin’!
I couldn’t bear to look.
We’re still planning to go through the Santa Monica subdivision, but we’ll do the road on the right, which wasn’t flooded. Much.
We finished our hike with some lunch at Kamto.
No beer for me, just diet Coke.

A nap, a shower, then I was off to the Whiskey Girl bar for the SOB. I was pleasantly surprised to hear from Lydell, my favorite Snackbar waitress, asking if she and fellow waitress Heidi could attend the SOB with me. Come on down!

Heidi (on the left) and Lydell had never seen a show like this and paid rapt attention. I was a judge again, and it was nice to have some female perspectives for consultation.
I’m not sure why I didn’t get a shot with Heidi in the picture.
But I got two with Lydell. Oh well, she’s a cutie!

Alright, you want to see the dancers. I get it. Well, none of my photos came out (too dark), but I lifted these from the sponsor’s Facebook page:

A Whiskey Girl.
The Green Room team.
Queen Victoria bar.
Alaska Club
The hotties from Hot Zone.
The Wet Spot dancers took first place.
The girls from Voodoo, last week’s winners.

All of the teams put on a nice show, and I had an enjoyable evening, especially since I had company. We all went to the Aftermath party at Wet Spot at the conclusion of the contest. I was doing my best to moderate my gin intake, but going non-stop from 4:00 until 9:00 put me higher on the inebriation scale than I like to be. Made it home safe and alone. As usual.

Back at it this morning with my solo Barretto walk.

I briefly considered walking into Olongapo, but the weekend traffic on the highway just made it seem too risky. I don’t want to wind up like Mike. (He’s still fighting, but honestly, from what I’m hearing, it’s not looking good.)

I made a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies this morning. I hadn’t done that in a long time. I had more dough than space on my cookie sheet pan, so the glops of batter turned into one giant cookie. No big deal, I just cut them into squares, and they tasted fine.

Yeah, not exactly in keeping with my limited carb plan, but man does not live by gin alone.

At lunchtime, I pulled the ingredients for some burritos out of the fridge.

Yep, that’s everything I need.
Simmering the seasoning into the meat.
Ground beef, lettuce, tomato, green onion, shredded cheese, and salsa.
Rolled it all up and poked it in my mouth. Yum!

And that is where things stand as of now. It’s fixin’ to be Saturday night, and I’ve got a bunch of SOB raffle coupons to spend before they expire. Damn, I’m retired, but it feels like I’m working in the bars these days. Hmm, maybe if I call it a hobby instead. Yeah, that’s the ticket! I’m retired and pursuing a hobby in my free time.

Life is good!

What do I owe to you
Who loved me deep and long?
You never gave my spirit wings
Or gave my heart a song.

But oh, to her I loved
Who loved me not at all,
I owe the little open gate
That led thru heaven's wall.
--Sara Teasdale

Just an old poem I came across today via Facebook memories. Don’t read too much into it. Yeah, I’m not feeling loved these days, but I’m okay with that. Mostly.

Pooped out

Posted on by
4

I survived another titillating day in paradise, even if I was full of shit. As usual, I did my morning solo hike with intentions of doing my standard San Isidro/Calapacuan/Barretto trail. Alas, about halfway through my journey, the rumbling in my stomach warned that an explosion was imminent. I caught a trike home and took care of business before I soiled myself. Tragedy averted!

Seeing as how I’d only done a little over 4K, I decided to make up the difference with a jaunt through the neighborhood. That gave me almost 9K total for the morning, and I’m satisfied with that effort. I’ll share some photos of both hikes later in the post.

Two weeks into the diet/exercise routine and the weigh-in didn’t show any significant weight loss since last week. I’ll keep on keeping on, though. A couple of folks have commented that my belly looks smaller, but I’m not seeing it. It’s possible the ab work makes it have less sag, but I’m still needing to lose at least twelve more pounds to reach my goal.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to enjoy the things I enjoy as best as I am able. I had a visitor in the afternoon that I was able to in Joy. Took her for some grub at Sit-n-Bull afterward, then sent her home with some goodies and a little extra money in her pocket. She seemed pleased.

The “big” news from yesterday was the grand re-opening of Johannson’s. They’ve been closed now for over three years, and no one expected them to be back, but here they are again. It is a nice place to hang out, with a bar, restaurant, and some rooms to let if you need somewhere to stay. For many years it was the Hash On-Home venue where we did our sign-ups each week. Another place on my growing list of new bars in Barretto to review.

Welcome back!
I stopped in for a drink, and the place was packed.
They had a big dart tournament, just like the old days.

Anyway, since I’m retired from darts and don’t like big crowds, I left after one drink. I’ll be back soon, though.

Next stop was IDM, and they were pretty busy too. My favorite waitress wasn’t working, and I got bored, so I moved on after a couple of drinks. Crossed the street and climbed the stairs to Cheap Charlies. And what do you know, Marilou was actually available to drink with me. I really do enjoy her company, and I’m planning to meet and eat with her before work one day soon.

The view outside of Cheap Charlies.

And the view inside:

I think you can tell by her body language just how much she enjoys hanging with me.

There were other tell-tell signs as well:

That’s my kind of girl!

Maybe it was just a coincidence, but Facebook shared this memory from 2015 with me this morning:

Yeah, I used to make my own memes back in the day.

Anyway, it was a nice time at Cheap Charlies, but I still had one more stop on my bar hop to make: a visit to my friend Bhel at Outback. I was the only customer, which is somewhat unusual for this bar. I was introduced to the two new (and only) waitresses on duty. Of course, being the gentleman that I am, I felt obligated to buy them a welcome drink.

I’ve been sponsoring Bhel at the Hash, and next week will be her 5th run. That means she will be getting a Hash name. She’s more nervous about it than she ought to be because most of the names people get are bullshit. She says she’d like something with “trouble” in it. Well, that triggered a perfect name I’ll submit for a vote on Monday. As I explained to Bhel, my Hash name is Cum Together, and we never have, so her name should be Trouble Cumming. We’ll see what happens.
It was unanimous among the staff that I was the best customer in the bar during my visit.

And that’s where the good times ended. Caught a trike home, made a smoothie, then hit the hay.

This was the view I enjoyed when I arrived home:

Mother Nature mooning me.

I came across this piece of work on my internet travels and thought it was quite apropos for the interesting times in which we live:

Call me what you will, but I hope I’m never called that.

Talked to an Australian friend and fellow Hasher today. He hasn’t been around for a week or so, and he said he had tested positive for Covid. And yes, he’s been vaccinated three times.

Seriously, I have absolutely no issue with anyone who wants to be vaccinated. Just don’t tell me I MUST be. You make your choice, and I’ll make mine. I’m honestly just not seeing the value in doing so.

Alright, enough of that nonsense. Let’s enjoy some photos from my morning walk(s):

Leaving Alta Vista in the before poop session.
The recent rains appear to have eroded more soil from under the roots of this big ol’ tree. How much longer can it stand? And more importantly, will I be walking by when it falls?
The requisite Easter mountain view.
Looking back towards Alta Vista before catching a trike to the toilet.
Starting the bowels empty portion of my hike in Alta Vista.
The view at 1.6K.
And at 3.2K
Easter mountain, as seen from my neighborhood.

That’s about as good as it gets around here for me these days. It is Friday, and that means another SOB is on tap. You can’t go wrong watching sexy gals dance, right? I’ll be back tomorrow!

It’s good to be rich

Posted on by
6

Or at least pretending like I am.

I guess that makes it official—no wonder why all the girls love me. (the current exchange rate is 55 peso to the dollar, making me even richer than I was last month)

One of the girls I know called me “lucky” the other day. I responded that I had worked hard all my life so I could be lucky. But yeah, I understand her point. I don’t have to worry day to day about paying for the essentials. I was blessed to be born in the USA, where you have a better opportunity to improve your circumstances through hard work, determination, and perseverance. And yeah, maybe a little luck along the way too. But I was born poor, well, I guess working class, in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. The kids all made fun of my hand-me-down clothes and the old run-down house we lived in. But it doesn’t matter how you start; it’s where you finish that counts. And here I am, living in paradise like a rich man. I’ll call that a win.

So, when I saw that chart above, I was curious where my full-time employee fit on the income scale: “low income but not poor”. Of course, that is based on salary alone, she also gets free lodging and eats on my dime, so I’d guess that makes her almost middle class. I know now that the salary I’m paying is way above normal for a domestic helper/caregiver. Still, she does good work and has been with me the entire four years I’ve lived here, so she’s worth it.

But as rich as I am, there are some things I just can’t afford. I was perusing the frozen meats at Royal supermarket yesterday and experienced a severe case of sticker shock when I saw this:

At first, I thought it must be a typo, but there were several other meat packages with similar price tags on display.

The signage says it is beef from Japan. I don’t know anyone who could afford to pay that price, in their right mind or not. And you’d have to be crazy to spend that kind of money for 14 kgs of meat. Something ain’t right. I’ll check again next week to see if they are still there or if the price has been changed.

The women I know all seem to recognize my richness. Another day, another request for emergency funding. At least the story last night was original and mildly interesting. And honestly, 5,000 pesos here and 5000 there do add up. I’ve been exceeding my charity budget these past few months, so I’m going to have to toughen up again and strictly enforce Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). Wish me luck with that!

Luckily, I’ve got plenty of cash for my other nighttime pursuits, which primarily consist of alcohol consumption. I honestly don’t usually pay attention to the cost of an individual drink. I mean, if a beer is 60 pesos or 80 pesos, it is not that big a deal. But this new gin and soda routine has been shockingly expensive. What I’ve been doing is buying a shot of gin and a can of soda water. That allows me to moderate the strength of the drink and reduce the speed of alcohol consumption. In Blue Butterfly last night, my shot of gin was 90 pesos, and the can of soda water was 120 pesos. That’s more expensive than a lady drink, so I jokingly asked my waitress if I would be receiving a commission on my beverage. All kidding aside though, the difference between paying a buck fifty for a beer and over four dollars for a gin drink adds up pretty quickly. Still, I can afford it, so I’m not really complaining. Much. I do try to keep it in perspective by reminding myself that I was paying around seven bucks for a beer back in Korea. So, it’s all relative.

It’s tough work, but somebody has to do it.

I met the girl who needed cash at John’s place last night. We shared an order of Korean-style wings. She had beer, and I had gin. When she finished her tale of woe, I told her I’d give her some cash the next day. Then she wanted to join me on my bar hop. I hadn’t been planning on that, and for some reason, it bugged me. I finally relented to the extent that I’d join her at Blue Butterfly, a place where she had previously worked.

When we got there, she was given a warm greeting by all the girls and the manager. I guess she had been a very popular member of the team. We had more drinks, and she asked me to buy one for the manager, and I agreed. I was taken aback again when she told me she wanted to be my girlfriend, and I kept rejecting her. That I seem like a nice guy, but I’m cold-hearted. I didn’t have much to say in response other than it just wasn’t a good time for me.

Yeah, but different isn’t always for the better.

What’s weird is that she was the third woman this week who strongly suggested interest in being in a relationship with me. And despite my persistent whining here about being lonely, those feelings weren’t mutual. I’m not saying I’ll never give any of them a shot; it is just that something doesn’t feel right for me at this moment in time. Or maybe I’ve just made the transition to a solitary existence, and I’m not willing to give that up. It seems strange, though, and so unlike me.

I did rather enjoy my streetside view from Blue Butterfly. I may have to stop in here more often.

I told my wannabe girlfriend goodnight and left her at Blue Butterfly with her friends. I had a couple more drinks at Cheap Charlies, then tried a new place up the highway called Sloppy Joe’s. They’ve expanded since my last visit to include indoor tables and several large-screen televisions. I sat outside to watch the world go by instead. They did have a nice buy one/get one promo with your first drink, so I did two for the price of one, then headed to the sanctuary I call home.

My conspiracy theorist Filipina friend sent me this. My ignorant unvaxxed self kind of agrees with the sentiment.

My deadline for leaving the country is rapidly approaching, and I will have to decide soon on whether to get jabbed. Stay tuned.

She sent me this one, too. Hey, if the government says it, it must be true. Right?

Rained throughout the night and into the morning, but ’tis the season. It didn’t stop me from walking today and won’t prevent me from going out tonight. A rich man has got to live large after all, right?

I’ll do better. Promise.

A slow go

Posted on by
2

I’m always slow on the Hash trail, normally near the back of the pack. Yesterday, there was an older guy I didn’t know in our sane group, and he was so slow he made me look like a runner. Now, the ethos of the Hash is that it is to each his own, the trail is marked so anyone can follow it, and you are welcome to set your own pace. For whatever reason, I felt responsible for this guy, so I hung back to make sure he found his way and didn’t get hurt. It felt like I spent as much time standing around waiting for him to catch up as I did hiking.

About halfway through the trail, I elected to take a shortcut. I usually do that to avoid a difficult climb, but this time my motivation was to shorten our hike because we were moving so slowly. And once I deviated from the marked trail, there was no way the slowpoke was going to find his way back without my guidance. Anyway, it was a little frustrating, but the guy thanked me afterward for hanging back with him. And honestly, if I were Hashing with a group I didn’t know, I’d hope someone would care enough to keep their eyes out for me. On-On!

I had a pre-Hash cheeseburger at Sit-n-Bull to ensure I was fueled up for the trail.
The trail as the Hares intended it to be.
Our sane group of Hashers at the VFW meet-up location.
And we are On-On!
Up we go
Step-by-step
And step after step. That’s the slow fella I mentioned. I’m an expert at being slow, but this guy is way ahead (behind?) in that regard.
Up top…
…then down again.
The three gals I sponsored (paid the 300 peso entry fee) for this week’s Hash.
A brief sojourn on pavement
Ever felt like the walls are closing in?
Heading up for the second climb of the day.
Waiting on the hilltop for the rest of the pack to catch up.
Here comes one!
Bhel getting back to her roots.
I didn’t forget you, Easter mountain.
On-Home was at the Viking Resort on Baloy Beach.
Thirsty Hashers
That’s me enjoying my first beer in a week.
And the sun goes down on another Hash Monday.

After Hash, a few of us went up the road to Johan’s for some more beers. Then I got a message from my friend inviting me to join her at Snackbar. How could I say no?

I feel like on the cusp of something; I’m just not sure what it is. Nothing to do but stick around and find out what happens next. Y’all are welcome to follow along right here.

Winner winner chicken dinner!

Posted on by
4

Moving along, one step at a time. I did a 7K Sunday stroll around San Isidro, and it looked this:

Leaving the ‘hood.
A San Isidro backroad at 1.6K
Crossing bridge #4 at 3.2K
Sawmill Road in “downtown” San Isidro at 4.8K
Heading back to Alta Vista at 6.4K
Home sweet home

It’s getting to be a Sunday tradition that I feed the girls at Hideaway Bar. Hey, it’s something we can all look forward to sharing. I baked up a batch of brownies for the brown knees and stopped at Chooks To Go:

For some take-out rotisserie chickens.
Dinner is served, ladies!

I shared a few drinks with Joy but did not partake in the meal. I had a hankering for something different. It had been way too long since my last visit to Mango’s beach bar.

It was nice to plop down in my old seat and take in some beach views.
Grilled pork chops, thick and juicy, really hit the spot.
And then the storm clouds came rolling in. Lots of lighting, rain, and wind drove me from my perch back to the safety of the bar.

When the rain subsided, I headed back to the highway. Was surprised to see Queen Victoria open on a Sunday, so I dropped in. I was the only customer, and I could tell they were waiting for me to hurry and finish my drink so they could close early. I’m not saying that in a mean way; they were all kind and friendly towards me, even going next door to buy some soda water for my gin drinks.

So, I had been hoping for an invite from my friend to visit Kamto, but it never came. I enjoy her company but don’t want to intrude on her space as she pursues new opportunities. I’ve moved on, but I’m not at the point where I want to witness her cuddling with someone else. Yeah, I’m pathetic, I know.

Instead, I went to Snackbar. I’ve got to say, the ladies there always make me feel special. Yep, they are good at their job, and I’m always happy to play along. It was a nice way to finish my evening. The trike stand is right across the road, and I made it home none the worse for wear. I am getting better at pacing myself for the “buzz” without the being stupid drunk part.

A decent night’s sleep, then up to face another day.

Let’s start this one with some cranberry muffins. Yum!

It’s Hash Monday, so my standard morning walk is the short 5K trek to and from Baloy Beach.

The Alta Vista high view.
Entering the Baloy domain at 1.6K
On the beach at 3.2
The shortcut home at 4.8K
Back where I started.

And that’s where things stand with me. I’m just going to keep plugging away. Thanks for stopping by; I’ll be back tomorrow.

Give a little bit

Posted on by
6

I remembered last night, so it is good to be back to normal in that regard. I didn’t do anything memorable, but still…

The morning started as most of them do with a walkabout. I have several standard solo hikes I do, and yesterday it was my Barretto street walk. I’ve been letting the “Map My Walk” app dictate when I snap a photograph (every mile/1.6K), and here’s how my path looked yesterday:

On the National Highway at 1.6.
Abra Street at 3.2
Jasmine Street at 4.8
La Union Street 5.6K
Shenandoah Bend (and home) at 6.4K

Easy peasy.

Started my evening out at IDM for the wedding reception of owner Cliff and his bride Ashley. Congratulated them both, gave my waitress a lady drink and generous tip, then headed out. Just wasn’t in a party mood for some reason.

Next up was Cheap Charlies. Marilou seems to be the most popular gal in the bar as she is always occupied with other customers when I arrive. Good for her and well-earned. She knows how to do her job. My other favorite, Rose, took good care of me too. My mood improved, and I started feeling generous. I ordered up some chicken wings, chicken fingers, and lumpia, which was more than enough for me, Rose, and the other unoccupied staff. One of the bartenders commented that it had been a long time since I had bought them food. Yeah, it has been. I guess I let my displeasure with my former “friends” there impact the innocent bystanders.

My view at Cheap Charlies.

When I was preparing to leave, I asked Rose if she preferred another lady drink (120 pesos, of which she gets 60 peso commission) or a tip for that amount. I guess that should be a no-brainer, but some bars have a drink quota system. If you don’t get X number of lady drinks, your (already low) salary is reduced). Rose said she didn’t have a quota and would be happy with the tip. When I departed, I stuffed 250 pesos in her cleavage.

That was fun. Now what? Well, I hadn’t been to Sit-n-Bull for a while, and I wouldn’t be going now because I had just eaten. But I know the waitresses there are always wanting ice cream, and I do try to be accommodating. So I popped into the store next door and bought a half-gallon of their favorite flavor: Double Dutch. When I came in, they greeted me warmly as usual and offered me a menu. I told them no thanks; I have a delivery. They were thrilled with my gift. Their smiles were worth every one of those 275 pesos.

Now, where? I hadn’t been to Alaska Club for a couple of weeks, and owner Jerry was outside to welcome me as I walked up. Only one other customer, but it was still early on a Saturday night. A lot of these bars have a late-night crowd, I assume. Five dancers on stage, but not the one (Marissa) I had met at the first SOB last month. My waitress pointed out a new dancer, describing her as an 18-year-old cherry girl. No, thank you! I don’t go for teenagers, and I’m not interested in a virgin. Instead, I called down the oldest one on stage and bought her a couple of drinks. I don’t think I even asked her her name, knowing I’d forget it anyway. She was happy with the drink commissions and tip, though.

The final stop on the night was Outback. They have a very small staff (one bartender, two waitresses), and since I was the only customer, none of them were occupied. Naturally, I did a round of lady drinks for everyone. It was nice having all of their attention to myself. That’s the best thing about giving and getting. We were all happy.

And then I went home. Alone but aware of my surroundings. I’ll figure this out yet!

I'll give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my life for you
So give a little bit
Oh, give a little bit of your time to me

See the man with the lonely eyes
Oh, take his hand, you'll be surprised

SOBing again

Posted on by
3

Just a quick recap of my more drunken interesting than usual Friday night.

I started out by dropping into my former haunt at Alley Cats. It was Billy’s birthday, so I brought her some brownies and a gift envelope. I stayed for two drinks, but the “cold shoulder” vibe I’d felt during my previous visit continued. I’m talking as much about the fellow customers as I am about the bargirls. Keep in mind this was my former hangout for over four years, and now I felt like a stranger. The good news is I don’t give a shit. If someone doesn’t like me enough even to be polite, I don’t want or need them in my life.

Since I decided to bail out early at Alley Cats, I still had time to make it to the SOB competition being held this week at Voodoo. My first visit there since I did the bar review last November. It’s a smaller bar, but there were still plenty of good seats left when I arrived. Since I don’t frequent this bar, I didn’t know any of the waitresses or dancers. I picked one dancer randomly to join me for some company during the show.

I was a little surprised when she told me she was 45 years old. That is the oldest dancer I’ve ever seen in a bar. Granted, she was still attractive, and despite having three kids, her body was in good shape.

I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember her name now.

She’s a touchy-feely kind of gal, and her friskiness in a public place made me a little uncomfortable. But the drinks were flowing, the show was going, and no one else was knowing. When the contest was over (Voodoo won), I said my goodnight to what’s-her-name and dragged my drunken ass out of the bar.

It wasn’t time to go home yet, though. There’s an event after the SOB called “Aftermath” featuring reduced drink prices and more discount coupons being raffled. It was being held next door at Hot Zone, so I popped in and drank some more.

Then things got a little fuzzy. Well, more than a little. I recall getting a text message from a female friend saying she had been waiting for a Jeepney home for a long time without any luck. I guess I invited her to join me at Hot Zone, and she agreed. And that’s where things go blank.

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on my couch. That’s a first for me—no recollection of how or why I ended up there. I made my way to the bedroom, and my female friend was sleeping in my bed, fully clothed. I crawled in beside her and tried to go back to sleep, but I was kind of freaked out by the situation and my lack of memory as to how it came about.

My friend woke up around 4:30. According to her, I had invited her home with me, she had given me a massage, then I got up and fell asleep on the couch. Weird, that is so unlike me. I can see myself falling asleep during a massage but not moving to a very uncomfortable sofa. I can only assume that something happened that I don’t recall, and she isn’t telling me.

Anyway, she said she was ready to go home. I told her to wait a while; it was still dark outside. I offered to make her breakfast, but she insisted she wanted to leave now. It was raining too. I’m not going to make someone stay who doesn’t want to be here, but damn, I never walk these streets in the dark. But off we went, using my phone’s flashlight to provide a little bit of illumination. My unpaved shortcuts were out of the question under these circumstances, so it was a 15-minute walk to the highway. I brought Buddy along too. It wasn’t long before a Jeepney arrived and carried my friend homeward.

So, I brought a woman home, and she slept in my bed. And I didn’t. No sex or cuddling or anything. Well, I guess a massage that I don’t remember at all. And her insistence on leaving under the worst possible circumstances was mind-boggling. Something must have happened, but I have no idea what.

Oh, and she is still chatting with me like everything is cool and nothing has changed. And she sent a message that “next time” she’ll stay all day if I want. Huh? Why would I want there to be a next time when I can’t get my mind around the last time.

Weird shit, huh? I think I may need to recalibrate my plan to convert to gin and soda. Beer never made me lose my mind this way. Maybe having a big belly isn’t the worst option.

On a country road

Posted on by
2

Greetings from the Philippines. I’ve just returned from a full day of hiking fun out in San Marcelino. And now I’m preparing to run out the door to attend a birthday celebration for Billy, the dart meister at Alley Cats. Just waiting to pull those brownies out of the oven. So, the post about today’s adventure will be here for your enjoyment tomorrow.

In the meantime, here’s a brief report on my yesterday. I started off with an 8K solo hike on my standard route through San Isidro/Subic/Barretto. My trek app sounds off every 1.6 kilometers, and just for shit and giggles, I took a picture when it did.

At 1.6K I was on “Bridge #3” in San Isidro.
At 3.2K, I was on a country road in Calapcuan. What was really trippy was that, at that moment, my Spotify playlist was playing the James Taylor song of the same name. What are the odds?
At 4.8, I was on the National Highway and heading for home.
Look who I ran into at 6.4K on the Subic side of the river. That gal sure does get around.
The river view at 6.4K
And then I was back home at just under 8K.

Relive it all here if you’d like:

Before heading out for the evening, I enjoyed a bowl of my chili con carne with some freshly baked cornbread.

I thought it was good and my helper agreed, so there’s that.

Another beerless night at It Doesn’t Matter and Wet Spot.

Didn’t see any pussy, though.

Brownies are done, and I got to run.

See you tomorrow!
Take to the highway, won't you lend me your name?
Your way and my way seem to be one and the same.
Mamma don't understand it, she wants to know where I've been.
I'd have to be some kind of natural born fool to want to pass that way again,
But I could feel it on a country road.

Business as usual

Posted on by
4
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Another typical day in the life. A nice hike with the Wednesday Walkers group (pictures to follow), being a substitute in dart league, and ending the night with a Barretto bar crawl. Does it get any better than that? Yeah, I can think of some ways, but it is what it is, and I’m living large, so why complain?

I was a little perturbed at being asked to play in the dart league match. Yeah, I had agreed at the end of last season to be a substitute, but now it seems like an unwarranted intrusion on my freedom to do what I want when I want to do it. Three is the minimum to play a match, and my former team has three players without me. One of them is currently visiting in the USA, so I’m expecting a call again next week. I did make it clear that they need to find a replacement. Anyway, I hadn’t played darts since my “retirement” last month, and I had to play with a set of darts I don’t like, so I wasn’t expecting much performance-wise. I didn’t throw well, but I wasn’t as horrible as I thought I might be. And we won the match 13-0 against an admittedly weak opponent. Apparently, that was the first time “our” team had ever accomplished that feat. Maybe it will be a last for me as well.

Nothing special about the beerless bar crawl. Started at Hideaway, where I bought Joy and the girls some of those big-ass tacos from the Coffee Shop for dinner. I moved on from there to Cheap Charlies. Regular Rose wasn’t working, and my other regular, Marilou, was occupied with another customer. No biggie, I got a back rub from one gal and sat with another girl who’d never heard my jokes before, so that was a win. I finished the night at Kamto, where I enjoyed a chicken sandwich and some convo before heading home. I was a little drunker than I prefer having started at two in the afternoon, another reason I don’t like playing in the dart league.

Today marks the end of the first week of my reduced calorie/increased exercise program. Coincidentally, Facebook reminded me that it was four years ago today that I finally achieved the weight loss milestone I had been striving for for over two years.

As I recall, I started at 265. I think I made it down to 195 before laziness complacency set in.

Anyway, this morning I weighed in at 210.6, down almost three pounds from where I started last week at 213.4. I’m not sure that rate of loss is sustainable, but I deem it a good start.

A few shots from the Wednesday hike:

We started with a step climb. About a hundred of ’em.
This good boy was urging us on, barking out, “NO SHORTCUTS!”
Made it up…
…then headed back down.
Road work
The first cookie recipients on the day.
The requisite group shot.
Out in the country.
One more up.
It was nice to see my mountain mama friend, Olivia.
Who can spot the hikers up ahead?
Another cookie delivery.
Time to head back down.
The last of the down.
The joy of the flatlands.
On to Marian Hills…
And up to Alta Vista.
There she is.

Got a road trip hike/cookout coming up in the morning. Always nice to see something new. And to have something different to share with my faithful few readers. See you tomorrow!

Who needs beer Tuesday?

Posted on by
1

Shopping day, and even week to week I can see the inflationary impact on groceries, especially anything imported. On the other hand, I’m getting 55 pesos to the dollar; that’s the highest I’ve seen since I first started coming to the Philippines back in 2008. The lowest I’ve seen is 43, and I hope I never see that rate of exchange again.

After shopping, I had some lunch at Sit-n-Bull:

The roast beef dip is what my stomach cried out for. With a side of cole slaw.

Facebook reminded me that it was four years ago when I got the call my lost Buddy had been found after going missing three days earlier:

He’s been a good boy ever since!

I also came across this photo on Facebook and got a good chuckle:

A nice depiction of what retired life in the Philippines can be like for us old fat fuckers.

I seem to be walking a different path, though. This TikTok video posted on the Althouse blog spoke to me in ways that seemed eerily responsive to my thoughts about whether I’m destined to die alone:

@aznamerican

😂 #dating #funny #single

♬ original sound – cameron.geller

I guess there are worse fates. Oddly enough, when I woke up this morning, I had a song in my head called “The Loner.” It’s from Neil Young’s debut solo album released in 1969 (I was 14 then, if you are keeping track) and it was far from my favorite song on that record. In fact, I haven’t thought of it or heard it played in decades. Why I thought of it this morning is a mystery. Maybe I shouldn’t read too much into it.

There was a woman he knew
About a year or so ago
She had something that he needed
And he pleaded with her not to go
On the day that she left
He died but it did not show

Know when you see him
Nothing can free him
Step aside, open wide
It's the loner

Perhaps that’s my fate, but then again, everything can change in a New York minute.

Moving on, I may be alone, but I have a life, and part of that life involves drinking. I figured I’d spend at least a portion of my Tuesday evening on Baloy Beach. Last time I was out there at McCoy’s, they told me they didn’t have soda water. So on my way to the beach, I popped into 7/11 to buy a couple of cans, but they were sold out. Damn, well, I’m right next door to the Snackbar, and I know they have soda water, so I went in to get a couple to go. My friend was there and invited me to stay, but there was a Dick sitting outside, so I took a pass.

When I got to McCoy’s, the bartender pulled my regular beer out of the fridge, but I told her, “no, just give me a shot of gin. I brought my own soda.” She gave me a funny look and said we don’t have gin. I pointed at the bottle on the shelf, and she explained that is only sold by the bottle, not a drink. Ah yeah, the Filipino style is for a group of friends to buy a whole bottle and take turns doing shots. I should have known better. Well, I wasn’t going to break my diet, so I gave my soda water to the bartender and headed on up the beach to Johan’s.

I was the only customer in the place, and even a loner can be bored (it’s a regular bar, no bargirls). After a couple of drinks, I sent a message to my friend asking if the Dick was still at Snackbar. She said “yes, but he’s outside. Come inside and sit with me.” It seemed like my best option, so I walked on over.

I didn’t say anyting to the Dick when I walked inside. Sat down, ordered up my gin and soda, and chatted with my friend and her lovely staff of waitresses. Before too long, a couple of them started goofing around and dancing.

Having fun inside.
Let me show you how we dance in Arkansas!
Me giving Lydell a twirl on video. Check it out if you dare!

Anyway, as you can see, we were all having a good time. Inside at least. I don’t know what triggered it, but something happened, and the next thing I know, my friend was out in the parking lot yelling at the Dick. He wound up running away. When she came back in, she said he had been bad mouthing her to other customers. And not just her, one of the waitress played me a recording she had made of him trash talking about me. Of course, he didn’t have the balls to say anything to my face. A real Dick move. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with the guy, but he clearly has issues. He was bragging to people a few days ago about being engaged. Why he would care about me spending time with the woman who rejected him is a mystery. I don’t really give a shit, though. Just someone I’ll continue to avoid whenever possible.

Anyway, we didn’t let it cool our buzz. I had ordered food for the staff from Kamto and it arrived shortly after the incident, and we all chowed down. When the food was gone, I finished my drink and headed home for my 9 p.m. bedtime.

And there you have a snapshot from my so-called life.

Feeling down on the up and up

Posted on by
2

I made some poor choices yesterday, including the one to attend the Hash. Nothing against the Hash; it’s just that the first pool party in over three years was being held at Treasure Island during the same time frame. Well, I’ve got something like 130 consecutive Hash runs, and I wasn’t ready to break my streak just to look at sexy girls in bikinis. But I shouldn’t have been so quick to ignore the fact that Vienna Sausage (Guenter) was the Hare. No one to blame but myself for the subsequent misery.

The trail began at the end of Rizal Extension. There’s no easy way to get there, and now that the Hashmobile is deceased, we were on our own to reach the starting point. Of course, walking is one method of transport, but it’s a long hard slog uphill. In fact, it is so steep that some trikes don’t have the power to reach the top. From my house, the shortest path is to go over the mountain via the My Bitch trail, and that’s what I did. It took me a hard forty-five minutes to reach my destination, and I was hot and tired when I arrived.

And then the fun began. Vienna described the trail as “6K with a few humps.” It felt much longer than that, and those humps equated to four hard climbs and steep downhills. Not to be completely negative, it was mostly new territory for me, and that’s something I usually enjoy. The problem was I wasn’t familiar enough with the area to be able to discern a saner course of action by shortcutting.

After the first hard up and slippery down (there was a light rain falling early on), we came to a decision point–climb again or take a flat route on the streets to the On-Home venue (also Vienna’s house). Half the sane group took the easy way, but I stubbornly chose to go on, thinking I’d shortcut from up top if needed. That choice proved to be ill-advised. After another tough uphill slog, the trail almost immediately turned back down. My visions of finding a shortcut were misguided, so I had no choice but to plod onward. And what awaited me at the bottom was yet another climb to the top. And guess what? Yep, the trail once again descended. Nope. Not me. I had a pretty good idea that if I continued upward just a little bit more, I’d intersect with My Bitch. Turns out I was right about that. From there, I knew where I could pick up the trail again without any more ups and downs.

And that’s how it turned out. I was one of the last Hashers to reach Vienna’s house, and I was soaked in sweat and in a decidedly foul mood. Again, this is all on me. The Hare has every right to lay a path of his choosing, and I can choose to follow it or not. My inability to recognize viable alternative routes early on is my failure. I won’t be sucked in with talk of “humps” in the future. Lesson learned.

I had three San Mig Zeros before the beginning of the Hash circle and then was informed that there were no more Zeros in the ice chest. I switched to SML (twice the alcohol and twice the calories), had one, said “fuck it,” and made an early departure from the Hash. So yeah, I only had four beers all night. I went to Kamto for some grub and switched to gin and sodas.

Alright, now that I have all that off my chest, let’s go to the pictures.

I guess a lot of ups and downs are to be expected when you are getting fucked.
The “sane” group gathers at the end of Rizal Extension. A couple had the good fortune to arrive in trikes. Others that had caught a trike had the trike driver refuse to proceed past the halfway up point. The rest of us walked.
This dicey bridge was the first obstacle we encountered.
The worst part was half the planks were rotted out. Choose your steps carefully!
A rare moment of serenity in the woods.
Look at me go!
Keep a watchful eye on us, oh sacred Easter mountain.
A rare encounter with flatness.
This big-ass old tree had chosen to die and block our path.
I took the low road.
Follow me; these hills ain’t going to climb themselves!
One down ends, another up begins.
Up top again. But not for long.
Decision time. Another climb or a long flat walk around? Half went up; half went long.
Cookies for the kids.
It’s a hard life out here.
Feeling bamboo-zled
Onward
And upward.
The grass is high, and so are we. But not in the good way.
I’ll take that as a good sign!
Another cookie delivery.
Finally! The familiar confines of Barretto. One more down, and we are there at last.
My first beer in four days was the reward for all that hard work on trail.
My 4th of July dinner–surf and turf. Or a prawn and some chicken. When you are hungry, it doesn’t matter.
And so ends a bitchy, whiny, selfish Hash post. I’ll do better in the future.

So, let’s conclude with something positive–I’ve got a new plan to cut out drinking:

That’ll work!

Bars of Barretto: Snackbar

Posted on by
Reply

Since I completed my review of the Barretto bar scene back in December, several new venues have opened. So, over the next few weeks, I’ll be adding them to the list. One of the previously reviewed bars, Finger Monkey, has closed. That was my least favorite bar because I believed the owner was exploiting her workers. Well, the place got raided and shut down. I heard the owner is in jail. I feel bad about that. Karma probably overreacted in this case.

Anyway, we are here to talk about the Snackbar. It’s a tiny little place in the 7/11 strip mall at the National Highway and Baloy Beach Road intersection.

I’m not sure about the name. There is no kitchen, but food is available from the Kamto location. Some of us call the place “snatchbar” and the sister operation “cameltoe,” but then we are a bunch of perverted fucks.
They do feature daily specials, and their beer is the cheapest in town.
Three or four small tables on the sidewalk outside.
A bar and a couple of small tables inside.
And that’s all there is to the place. Cozy, you might say.

What makes Snackbar work is the friendly staff and a local expat hangout vibe. I’ll sometimes stop in on my way back from hanging out on Baloy or as the last stop after a night in Barretto. The girls are primarily waitresses, but they won’t turn down an offered lady drink.

With the limited volume their seating allows and the low beer prices, I’m not sure how (or if) they are making a profit. But it is a nice addition to the bar community as long as it lasts.

Good luck to you, Miss Paula.

  1. It Doesn’t Matter
  2. Cheap Charlies
  3. Snackbar
  4. Mango’s Beach Bar
  5. Alley Cats
  6. Wet Spot
  7. BarCelona
  8. Adam’s
  9. Blue Butterfly
  10. Out Back Billabong
  11. Dynamite Dick’s
  12. Palm Tree
  13. Hideaway
  14. Hot Zone
  15. Alaska Club
  16. The Green Room
  17. Thumbstar
  18. Bottoms Up
  19. Rosies
  20. Rock Lobster
  21. Queen Victoria
  22. Voodoo
  23. Annex
  24. MacArthur’s
  25. Redz Pub
  26. Whiskey Girl

I am going to need to update these rankings as well. Things change, and not always for the better. Once I finish adding the new bars, I’ll plan to revisit the others and rank them according to current circumstances.

Is that all?

Posted on by
2

Why, yes. Yes, it is! Let’s see if I can prove those who believe ‘something is better than nothing’ wrong.

Let me begin by wishing my fellow Americans a Happy Independence Day.

Don’t tread on me!

Started my evening at Hideaway Bar and had a pizza delivered for the girls. Maintained my beer-free program for the third straight day. Today is Hash Monday which is my automatic cheat day, so beer is on tap for later. Well, not on tap, in bottles, but you know what I mean.

Doing the gin with the full can of soda water seems to be the right combo. Slows my drinking down and dilutes the gin. Win-win!

Finished the night at Kamtu and had a nice chat with my friend, the owner. I’ll soon be adding a review of her other place, Snackbar, to the Bars of Barretto series.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!
The science is settled!

Other than my routine Monday walk on Baloy, there’s nothing else to report this morning.

Life’s a beach sometimes.

I don’t know why, but this cracked me up:

I’m not as smart as I once was, but I’m as dumb now as I ever was.

Anyway, that’s it for this worthless post. At least I’ll be able to do a Hash post tomorrow. Stick around!