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

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:

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.

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.

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

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.

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:

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Brownies are done, and I got to run.

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.

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.

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:

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

My life quest of filling in the hours, however comfortably and well, continues apace. Yesterday that meant a group hike that didn’t go as planned and later on finding myself in the Hot Zone between purgatory and hell.

We took a Jeepney out to the Waltermart in Subic town with a particular trail in mind. But we realized we had chosen the wrong hill to ascend once the climbing commenced. Too stubborn to retreat, we continued upward. The going got tough, but we chose to tough it out. And at last, we found ourselves at the top, with nowhere to turn except around. The damn thatch grass was over our heads high, and while we were sure a trail down existed somewhere, damned if we could find it. Pushing through that grass can also be treachours, as I nearly discovered when I stepped into a deep hidden hole. It was over knee high, and if I had fallen, it could easily have snapped my leg bone in half. I got lucky this time, but it was a good reminder of why I don’t make this kind of hike alone.

We admitted defeat and retreated back down most of the way we had come up, although we did take an alternative route at the halfway point, which was a bit easier and provided some variety.

Having survived our excursion in the hills of Subic, it was time to prepare for my next adventure–the SOB dance competition being held this week at Hot Zone. Doors opened at 5:00, the contest started at 6:00 and went until 8:00. This venue is relatively small, and I wanted to get there early so I’d have a seat. I left the house at 4:00 and hung out at Cheap Charlies, where I could keep an eye on things across the street.

I apologize in advance for the poor quality of the following photos. Still too far from a poorly lighted stage and still haven’t mastered using my phone camera in settings like this.

Practice, practice, practice, I suppose. I’ll try again next week.

When the competition was over (The Green Room took first place this week), I went to Wet Spot for the Aftermath event. Basically, I enjoyed beer at happy hour prices and took part in an SOB participant raffle. Was seated next to the Barretto legend Dave Fisher and had a nice chat. Too bad I was too far gone to remember most of it this morning. Stayed out until 10:00 p.m., if you can believe it.

Later this afternoon, I’ll be joining in a VFW-sponsored “rucksack” hike to support the veteran community. Also will be attending a birthday party for Jerlyn, one of my favorite Alley Cat gals.

It looks like I’ll have something to post about tomorrow!

UPDATE: I found a few photos from the SOB that are much better than mine:

Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you—just nothing significant or out of the ordinary to report. I guess I’ve been blessed not to be cursed to live in interesting times. At least I’ve got some photos of my daily blessings to share with you all.

You can Relive the hike here if you are so inclined.

An after-hike nap and shower, then a visit from Joy. She gave me a satisfying massage; and then I treated her to an early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.

After our meal, we parted company. I headed up the highway to It Doesn’t Matter. On the way, I ran into my old friend, Wendy.

Ran into my new buddy Chris at IDM, and we shared some nice chat and beers while we waited for the weekly charity raffle drawing to commence.

After the raffle wound up, I decided to check on my friend Bhel at the Outback bar.

While I was enjoying my beer and the music, my phone rang. That almost never happens. It was my friend from the Kamto restobar telling me that the other Johns were there and asking where I was. Also, they wanted me to be their DJ. Well, it is good to be wanted, and Kamto was right next door, so I headed over. Good times fueled by copious amounts of beer drinking were the order of the evening. One of the other John’s goal was to keep me up best my usual 9 p.m. bedtime. He succeeded, but not by much. Made it to bed by 10.

Obviously, I haven’t begun my beer hiatus yet, but I’m thinking about it. Need to do some more calculations yet.

And that’s how my day went. I’ve had worse.

Another hot hike with the Wednesday Walkers yesterday. We kept it flat, doing 9K on the back streets Matain, Calapacuan, and San Isidro. A lot of photos to share later in this post. One event from the trek stands out for me though–walking down the road and passing a Filipino pedestrian and hearing him mock my fat beer belly. Yeah, I’ve got a mirror, and I’ve had Filipinas that I know mention my increasing girth, but this is the first time some random stranger felt compelled to take note of my protruding gut. I guess I’ll take that as a call to action.

I’m not sure what measures I will undertake to reduce my measurements. I’m actually only gaining weight around the middle. Yes, they call it a “beer belly” for a reason. One part of my planning is to go thirty days with zero Zeros and see what happens. Well, I’ll probably have to do a cheat day on Monday since the Hash doesn’t offer other alcohol options. And don’t worry about bargirls potentially starving without my largesse–I’m not giving up drinking, only beer. A mix of gin and soda water is almost carb-free. I’m already pretty much maxed out on walking, so I’ll need to add in some exercise routines that address stomach flat. Anyway, it’s a plan in progress; I’ll let you know when I’m ready to implement it; it won’t be long, and my pride is at stake.

My after-hike activities included dinner at John’s place (the pulled pork sandwich). I also got a big order of Korean-style chicken wings for takeout so I could feed the hungry crew at Hideaway bar. Today is Joy’s day off, and she is coming by for a visit this afternoon.

Next up was Cheap Charlies, and it was a pleasant surprise to see one of my old favorites had returned to work after a lengthy 2+ year absence. Of course, she is probably just pretending to like me too, but she does a better job of it than my previous “friends” were willing to do. I also got a perverse pleasure from spending big on several lady drinks while they sat around without customers. Yeah, I can be a dick like that.

There was even more excitement than usual at Cheap Charlies as a huge thunderstorm rolled through. Lots of cloud-to-ground lightning bolts, explosive thunder, and sheets of pouring rain. It was quite the show. It also kept me trapped in the bar longer than I anticipated—nothing to do but drink and make the best of it. I had planned on a visit to Outback, but once the rain let up, I called it a night and caught a trike back home.

Here’s how my Lucky boy chills:

Let’s take a walk, shall we?

Nothing lasts forever, but I’ll make the best of it while I still can.

Well, I guess technically, “I” didn’t buy the house. Foreigners aren’t allowed to own land here. What I did was “loan” the money to the person who bought it. Her sob story was that by owning her own place, she could provide shelter for her and her daughter and not have to worry about monthly rent. And lest you think that I violated Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker), the amount she wanted for the “purchase” was “only” 6000 pesos ($120.). Also, I know this woman from the Hash, and I have zero interest in her physically or emotionally. This truly was an act of pure generosity with nothing in it for me other than the satisfaction of making a difference in someone’s life who is less fortunate than me. Do I think the money will ever be repaid? Of course not. Do I think she actually bought a titled piece of property, including a shack, for P6000? I doubt that is possible. What I think is more likely is that she paid what we used to call “key money” in Korea. There is a Tagalog word for it that I can’t remember at the moment. Basically, you give a lump sum to the landlord upfront in lieu of rent and then live there free for the term of the lease. When you move out, the initial down payment is refunded to you. Anyway, I’d spend that amount on lady drinks over the course of a week. If the money helps someone live rent-free it seems like a good investment.

My Tuesday festivities included a visit to the Snackbar, where I met up with my friend Erik. Earlier this week, one of the well-known expats here got run over on the National Highway. He’s been in a coma for two days, and one of the guys who donated blood (B+ is hard to find here) gave us an update on the victim’s circumstances. They finally did the surgery to remove a portion of his skull to relieve the pressure on his brain from internal bleeding. The fact that it took two days and bringing a surgeon up from Manila is concerning. Whether he wakes up again and the extent of any damage to his cognitive abilities if he does remains to be seen.

Get well soon, Mike. Your wife and child need you.

After a couple of brews at Snackbar, Erik and I hoofed it over McCoy’s on Baloy Beach.

I really do enjoy the visual ambiance, which is why I make the journey out here once a week or so.

Well, McCoy’s caters to the Filipino crowd, and Filipinos seem to love singing loudly. It’s really not my place to complain; I’ve got lots of other options. Still managed to sit through the noise through four beers before catching a trike back to Barretto.

Next stop was Kamto, my friend’s place. It wasn’t long after we arrived that a party-like atmosphere developed. I handled the DJ duties, and everyone seemed pleased with my selections. Beers were drunk (and so were we), food was ate, and we all had a good ol’ time.

I made it home safe and sound, went to bed, and woke up alone. Where are you hiding, my love?

I can always find someone
To say they sympathize
If I wear my heart out on my sleeve
But I don't want some pretty face
To tell me pretty lies
All I want is someone to believe

I guess it is still technically Father’s Day back in the USA, so I’ll post a memory of my dad in his honor:

Facebook took me to task this morning for speaking honestly. Well, posting something truthful that they didn’t like. Here it is for your reading pleasure:

An opinion piece from a vaccinated Australian writer:

“If Covid were a battlefield, it would still be warm with the bodies of the unvaccinated. Thankfully the mandates are letting up, and both sides of the war stumble back to the new normal. The unvaccinated are the heroes of the last two years as they allowed us all to have a control group in the great experiment and highlight the shortcoming of the Covid vaccines. The unvaccinated carry many battle scars and injuries as they are the people we tried to break mentally, yet no one wants to talk about what we did to them and what they forced “The Science “to unveil. We knew that the waning immunity of the fully vaccinated had the same risk profile as others within society as the minority of the unvaccinated, yet we marked them for special persecution. You see, we said they had not “done the right thing for the greater good” by handing their bodies and medical autonomy over to the State. Many of the so-called health experts and political leaders in Australia admitted the goal was to make life almost unlivable for the unvaccinated, which was multiplied many times by the collective mob, with the fight taken into workplaces, friendships, and family gatherings.

Today the hard truth is none of it was justified as we took a quick slide from righteousness to absolute cruelty. We might lay the blame on our leaders and health experts for the push, but each individual within society must be held accountable for stepping into the well-laid-out trap. We did this despite knowing full well that principled opposition is priceless when it comes to what goes inside our bodies, and we let ourselves be tricked into believing that going into another ineffective lockdown would be the fault of the unvaccinated and not the fault of the toxic policy of ineffective vaccines. We took pleasure in scapegoating the unvaccinated because after months of engineered lockdowns by political leaders blinded by power, having someone to blame and to burn at the stake felt good. We believed we had logic, love, and truth on our side, so it was easy to wish death upon the unvaccinated. Those of us who ridiculed and mocked the non-compliant did it because we were embarrassed by their courage and principles and didn’t think the unvaccinated would make it through unbroken, and we turned the holdouts into punching bags. Lambie, Carr, Chant, Andrews, McGowan, Gunner, and the other cast of hundreds in prominent roles need to be held to account for vilifying the unvaccinated in public and fueling angry social media mobs. The mobs, the mask Nazis, and the vaccine disciples have been embarrassed by “betting against” the unvaccinated because mandates only had the power we gave them. It was not compliance that ended domination by Big Pharma Companies, Bill Gates and his many organizations, and the World Economic Forum… It was THANKS to the people we tried to embarrass, ridicule, mock and tear down. We should all try and find some inner gratitude for the unvaccinated as we took the bait by hating them because their perseverance and courage bought us the time to see we were wrong. So if mandates ever return for Covid or any other disease or virus, hopefully, more of us will be awake and see the rising authoritarianism that has no concern for our well-being and is more about power and control. The War on the Unvaccinated was lost, and we should all be very thankful for that.”

This is the first time FB actually blocked something I posted entirely (I have had fact check/context blocks added before, but they really didn’t want anyone to see this post. I wonder why? I got this message within one minute of posting:

No one else can see your post. We encourage free expression but don’t allow false information about COVID-19 that could lead to physical harm. If your content goes against Community Standards again, your account may be restricted or disabled.

Well, fuck you, Facebook. The plebes are waking up and hopefully won’t be fooled again.

Back here in the real world, the gals at Hideaway Bar seemed to enjoy the meal I provided:

The owner sent me over a free beer, and Joy surprised me with a Father’s Day gift:

After Hideaway, I headed back to my side of town. Once again, I had to pee by the time I got to Cheap Charlies, so I went up and took a leak, then I ordered a beer. I ignored my old regular girls just like they had ignored me but turned my attention to the cutie next to me named Anna. She was aloof but honest about it. None of that suck-up pretending to care routine in the hopes of getting a lady drink. I bought her one anyway, as much to rub it in on my former bar mates as anything.

Anna and I did have a nice chat, though, as she slowly sipped her drink. I asked her if she had a boyfriend, and she told me, “no, and I don’t want one.” Hmm. Why not? “My priority is being with my kids; I don’t have time for a boyfriend.” “Not even a rich one like me?” I joked. She just laughed. I asked her age (24) and the age of her kids (8 and 7). “So, you were only 16 when your first child was born?” Yes, she responded, we didn’t have a TV. What else was there to do? I got a laugh out of that, but it also had a ring of truth. I’ve noticed that the poorest of the poor seem to have the most kids. You gotta fill those hours somehow, I reckon. Anyway, I enjoyed our chat and appreciated her blunt honesty. She’s my new favorite at Cheap Charlies!

I had one more stop left in me, so I headed over to Alaska Club. Marissa, the dancer I met Friday, wasn’t working, but my crush Karen was.

It had been in my mind that I was going to have to choose who I flirt with on future visits to Alaska. Marissa has given signs that she’d be up for a rendezvous, while Karen is much more reserved. It seemed like an excellent opportunity to clear things up some, and the belly full of beer gave me the confidence to ask if Karen had any interest in getting to know me better. Bless her heart; she was honest in her response. “No, I don’t.” Hey, the truth can hurt sometimes, but I much prefer it to all the pretend bullshit in this town. Thanks for that, Karen!

After the dog walk, I took myself on down to Baloy Beach for a morning stroll.

Some sad news, fellow Hasher Cabbage Patch has left us for the big On-On in the sky.

I came across this article loaded with photos from the cruising scene in Southern Cal in the summer of ’72. Brought back a lot of memories (we had a similar cult down in Orange County). Of course, I was comparatively poor, so none of those fancy muscle cars you’ll see at the link in my group. In fact, we did our cruisin’ in my pal Steve’s ’56 Pontiac. Good times.

Honestly, that’s all I’ve got for now. It’s Hash Monday, so you know what to expect tomorrow!

Honesty is such a lonely word
Everyone is so untrue
Honesty is hardly ever heard
And mostly what I need from you