More or less (less or more?).

The feeding at Hideaway seemed to go well. My carrot cupcakes were especially popular, and who doesn’t enjoy some hot pizza from Shamboli’s?

And, of course, there were lady drinks to wash it all down.

After Hideaway, I visited Cheap Charlies for the first time in quite a while. My new mode is not to let the shenanigans of a particular bargirl impact where I choose to imbibe my beers. So, last night when I arrived, the girl in question sidled up beside me, and I told her, “I hope you have a happy life” then I turned my back and ignored her. I guess she got the hint because she moved away. As an old timer advised me once after I first moved here: there’s a word you say when a Filipina disappoints you–NEXT!

Here I go again with eyes wide open! Actually, I jest. Some lady drinks and some chat are my only expectations. That and at least pretending to be appreciative. So far, so good. The most interesting thing I learned about Diana last night was that she lives with her mom and dad in the little village at the bottom of the dirt path that takes me out of Alta Vista. We are practically neighbors! She said she had seen me hiking by there and handing out cookies. Anyway, it’s nice to make a new “friend.”

While at Cheap Charlies, I received a message from Lydell, one of the Snackbar girls, inviting me to join them.

Today is Lydell’s twenty-second birthday, and I am the proud sponsor for her party tonight at Snackbar.

So, that’s the update on my drinking life. In my hiking mode, I led the Wednesday Walkers up into the hills overlooking Barretto for a pleasant 6K trek. Only six of us were in attendance this go-round, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I’ll let the photos tell the story:

That’s how the day went down, from the end to the beginning. I’m happy to report it does not appear to be the beginning of the end.

Back with more tomorrow.

Anyway, before I go into rant mode, let me share the photos from last night’s feeding at Hideaway. After finishing my doctor’s appointment, I ordered take-out from Sit-n-Bull for the girls.

As usual, it was a good time, and the girls were all appreciative. The bi-weekly feeding events are something we all look forward to.

But here’s the darker side. I stopped in another bar after leaving Hideaway. One of the girls currently working there briefly participated in my “friends with benefits” program while she was unemployed during the scamdemic. She’s got three kids, including one that might be just over one year old now (she was still lactating when she was an FWB). Nice enough gal and very attractive. The problem was that I discovered she is still married. That’s not unusual, I suppose, especially since divorce is not allowed in the Philippines. But her husband was still living at home with her and the kids. Adultery is a crime in the PI, and I had no intention of going down that road. I don’t know if he knew what his wife was doing with me, but I didn’t want to be around her if and when he found out. So, I stopped seeing her and shortly thereafter ended the FWB program. We did remain Facebook friends.

She came back to work in the bar several months ago, and we renewed our “lady drink” relationship. She told me her husband was working out of town. One night she came into the bar on her night off with a foreigner. That’s pretty unusual in and of itself; most of the girls keep their non-work life out of the bar. I guess he was a tourist because he’s now back in his home country. I know this because the girl in question is posting endless threads on Facebook (with photos of their video chats), professing her endless and undying love for this man. Hell, for all I know, she might even mean it. But last night, she took her usual seat next to me in expectation of getting lady drink commissions.

At first, I was inclined just to ignore her. The were two other gals vying for my attention as well. One is new, and the other I’ve known for years. But in the end, I just decided it was none of my business. Odds are good she is scamming this guy for monthly “support” money, and honestly if he is stupid enough to send it to her, why should I care? I wouldn’t be surprised if the husband is a willing participant. Having a “rich” foreigner around helps pay the rent. Indeed, perhaps I should congratulate her. Well, I guess I sort of did when I bought her the drink she coveted. See, that’s how the game is played, and I’m getting better at it. The trick is not to get played in the process.

I also heard from Agnes for the first time since she abandoned her lady drink from me to play kissy-face with another guy in the bar. I responded to her message by asking how things were going with the boyfriend. She answered that he was “just a friend.” I said, “do you tongue-kiss all your friends in the middle of a crowded bar?” For some reason, she never responded to that question. Oh well.

I’ve got a healthy case of “I don’t give a shit anymore” now, and I’m just going to do what I want when I want with whomever I want and not even worry about it. None of this crap is real, anyway. There’s freedom in that knowledge.

Things went fine with the doctor. I got another set of nostril injections, and today I have a good reduction in congestion (I couldn’t breathe through my nose at all yesterday). I’m still dealing with my lung issues, but I fear that may be my new normal. I’m still in the game as long as I’m still breathing, and that’s how I want to keep it.

It’s another Hash Monday, so here’s hoping it’s a good day on trail. Back with a full report tomorrow.

You can't hide your lyin' eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes

Fall has arrived in the Philippines! But around here, it ain’t the leaves that are falling off trees…

The construction behind my house continues apace, and the noise is quite irritating. Annoising if you will. I try and time my nap from noon until 1:00 while the workers are on lunch break.

Escaping the sounds of creation makes my morning walks all the more pleasant.

So, about last night. I had good intentions to start the evening off with some darts practice. Then I remembered that Barretto was undergoing a scheduled brownout (power interruption) until 5 p.m. (I’m technically in San Isidro, so wasn’t impacted). I knew Johansson’s wouldn’t have a generator, so I left the darts at home and went to It Doesn’t Matter instead.

It was the first time I’d been back since the incident with Agnes, and she wasn’t there. Maybe her biker boyfriend is supporting her now. None of my business, and I certainly wouldn’t be buying her drinks again, regardless. My waitress this time was Maria, and she’d always been flirty, and after a couple of beers, I invited her to join me (I know, I know, but old habits die hard.) She brings her beer over to where I’m seated; we tap bottles, she takes a swig and says, “I’ll be back.” Maybe you’ve guessed where this is going–she never returned to finish her beer. I really don’t understand that mentality at all; the deal is she gets the commission, and I get some of her time. Ignoring a customer is a losing proposition in the long run–Maria will certainly never get a drink from me in the future. Maybe I should be thanking her for saving me the money.

When it came time for me to move on, I was craving an elevated view. I decided BarCelona would give me what I was looking for. I ordered a beer and took a seat out on the rooftop.

When it was time to refresh my beer, there was no waitress to be found (I was alone on the roof). So, I went inside and noted that the girls were all congregated around the pool table. I stood at the bar and waited (the bartender was MIA as well). After a few minutes, a waitress did approach me and said what sounded like, “You should sit beside me; I don’t want to have to go all the way out there.” I gave a grumpy response along the lines of “sorry to make you do your job,” and went back to my table to wait for the beer. When she brought it, she sat down next to me, which surprised me a little. She said, “yeah, I want to be close when you need another beer; that’s why I said I would sit next to you.” Ah, I had misunderstood what she said before; okay, my bad. We had a nice chat, and I wound up buying her a drink to make up for the misunderstanding.

I had a “buy one, get one” coupon for Hot Zone, so I made that my next destination. It wasn’t busy when I arrived, so I settled back and watched the dancers as I sipped my beer. HZ does have some of the hottest girls in town on stage; I’ll grant them that. Well, except they weren’t on stage long–a group of Korean men came in and brought all but one of the dancers down for lady drinks. I think they had most of the waitresses around their table too. Ah, just like the good ol’ days–big-spending tourists spoil the girls, so locals like me don’t have to! Well done, gentlemen.

I left Hot Zone and headed down the highway toward home, but I still had an hour or so to kill. I paused at Sloppy Joe’s but decided to do Queen Victoria instead. They weren’t busy either, and I was still on my first beer when my old regular TinTin plopped down on the stool next to me. She didn’t perform with the QV group at the SOB, so I asked her about that. She said she hadn’t had time to learn the new routine yet. I responded that she should tell her new boyfriend she needs to practice. She answered, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” The Tagalog word for that is “bola bola,” which roughly translates as “bullshit.”

I will also confess that seeing that toothless grin made me wonder how good she is at blowjobs. Yeah, I’m a sick bastard.

I didn’t stay long at Queen Vic, and after exiting the building, I noted there were no trikes standing by in the usual location, so I walked a couple of blocks to the trike stand at Baloy road. And, of course, that put me out in front of Snackbar. It’s been a few weeks since my last appearance there (I hadn’t felt welcome), but my beer impairment overcame whatever grievances I was holding, and I popped in to have one more for the road. I was very surprised to see Lydell, one of my favorites from the now-defunct Kamto, working there. Last I’d seen her; she was at Adam’s Bar. And most of the other regulars did give me a hearty welcome back, so maybe those grievances were all in my head. And yes, we celebrated my return with a round of lady drinks. What can I say? I guess it’s just my nature.

Seriously, I do enjoy being generous with the girls. Makes me feel good, so it’s as much about me as it is about them. Rather than change my ways, I’m thinking avoiding the bad ones (like Agnes and Maria at IDM) is a better course of action. We’ll see how that works out for me.

And that brings y’all right up to date. Feeding night a Hideaway later. I also have an appointment with Dr. Jo this afternoon. Updates on all that tomorrow.

Yep, things are back to normal.

I’m giving myself a break from the game of paying for bargirl company. Turns out I’m not that good a player, and I start taking the whole fantasy a little too seriously. The recent incident with Agnes was a wake-up call. She was merely playing the game to her advantage, and I took the bait. So, I’ll just concede defeat and move on. For a while, anyway.

To the extent there’s a void to be filled, I’ll explore new venues where I’m not well-known to the girls and drink alone. That’s not to say I’ll never go back to my old haunts, but I’ll be upfront about the days of plying my favorites with lady drinks being over. Okay, I’m making an exception regarding Joy at Hideaway. That’s always been a different kind of relationship, and I’ve come to enjoy the bi-weekly feeding sessions. Why should I deny myself that pleasure?

I also think that perhaps I’ll take up darts again. It’s a safe and comfortable way to pass the time and will keep me entertained without a young Filipina by my side. I will need to practice and get my game back before I play in a competitive tournament. I think Johansson’s might be the place to go–nice boards, no bargirls, and rarely crowded. Stay tuned.

So, about last night. I decided to walk to the far side of town and have some dinner at John’s place. I went up to the third-floor bar and took a seat with a view.

I enjoyed a couple of beers with my meal, too. So, where to go next? I considered Mugshots but walked on by. I’m taking a break from IDM for now. Started to go to Cheap Charlies and changed my mind; not ready for those gals again either. I prefer an outdoor bar, and BarCelona was just about my last option, so that’s where I wound up.

I’ve never seen it so dead before. Usually, there are people playing pool, at least, but not last night. No one at the bar inside either. One guy seated at an outside table surrounded by bargirls–heh, me in a previous life! I sat alone at a table by the railing.

Even with only the big spender around, I had to get up to find someone to bring me another beer. It seems the service in BarCelona is always slow to non-existent. Too bad, really, because it is a very nice venue otherwise.

And then another customer arrived, and it turned out to be someone I’m acquainted with from the days I used to hang out at Snackbar, Marvin. Fascinating guy who regaled me with stories about his exploits as both a businessman and a treasure hunter in the Philippines. Yes, people are still looking for Yamashita’s gold, and Marvin’s a mining engineer by trade. Anyway, it was a much more satisfying conversation than I’ve ever had with a bargirl.

When it was time to go, I headed to Queen Victoria to use the last of my 500 peso voucher coupon. They also weren’t busy, but the bargirls there pretty much ignored me as well. TinTin did say hello but didn’t attempt to entice me to buy her a lady drink. Well, that’s okay. It gave me time to think about my new plan for a solitary bar life.

We’ll see how long I can go drinking alone.

Tuesday is normally my “lazy” day, but I experienced a lot of ups and downs yesterday.

Started out with my third trip to immigration for my ACR (Alien Certificate of Registration) card. It took them a while fingering through stacks of cards, but at last, they found mine. One less thing to worry about as I begin planning my required departure, probably in November.

The next stop was the Royal supermarket on my weekly grocery run. The store frequently has certain items with markdown/sale pricing. For example, yesterday, they had Marie Callender frozen pot pies for 30% off. That brought the price down to $3.60 (yes, they use dollar amounts for imported goods), and I decided to buy one for old times’ sake. I’m not sure why but for some reason, I made a mental note to watch the cashier scan my pie to make sure I was getting the discount. My intuition proved correct because it rang up at the full price. I pointed out that the pie was on sale, and the cashier called the floor supervisor over. The supervisor sent the bagger to verify the price, and I engaged in some frustrated banter about scamming customers with fake discounts. Yeah, I went there, although I did remain calm and spoke in a normal voice. When the bagger came back with the correct price, the supervisor started to manually ring up the purchase, but I stopped her and said, “I don’t want it now.” It was the least I could do. In the future, I will keep all “sale” items together in my cart and watch the prices on the register to make sure I’m really getting the discount. And yes, I know I was only being ripped off for $1.50, but it is the principle of the matter.

After I got back from my Royal adventure, I headed over to Dr. Jo’s office. The appointment was for my friend Bhel’s daughter and a follow-up visit for her son (blood work). I had volunteered to pay the doctor’s fees for Bhel. I arrived a little early, so I treated myself to lunch downstairs at Angel’s Bakery.

Bhel arrived with her kids right on time, so I joined them upstairs. Dr. Jo invited me to sit in on the consultation, but I demurred, saying I was only there to pay the bill. I’m not sure what medical issues her 13-year-old daughter might be dealing with, but I do know that’s none of my business, and prefer giving the family their privacy. Dr. Jo’s husband joined me in the waiting area, and we had a nice chat. They are in the process of moving into a rental property in Alta Vista. I told him about my potential forthcoming move, and we somehow got on the subject of the UK healthcare system (he’s not impressed). I asked if he’d ever seen House, MD, and he said he had not. That surprised me, but he said medical dramas have so many inaccuracies that he’s grown weary of watching them. When the session with Dr. Jo was complete, Bhel came out with a prescription. I asked Dr. Jo how much the bill was; she said, “no charge.” I persisted, and she insisted there was nothing owed. I’m sure she was just being generous; I always paid a fee for my consultations. She’s a good woman and a good doctor with a good heart. Thanks for that! I gave Bhel 2000 pesos to fill her prescriptions, then headed back home.

My part-time helper who lives downstairs gave birth to a daughter this week. My helper’s name is Geraldine, she goes by Inday, and her Hash moniker is Cum In My Basement. It wasn’t me, but somebody obviously did. Actually, her live-in boyfriend has assumed his fatherly responsibilities.

My mountain mama friend messaged me with a plea to let her perform massage services. She was especially desperate this week because her daughter has a birthday coming. Well, I’m here to help, and it turned out to be one of the best massages ever.

Just before I headed out for the evening, I heard from Cathy, the adopted mother of the boy I sponsor at school in Bohol. She advised that Eithan had been promoted from a Cub Scout to a Boy Scout, and so he needed a new uniform. Sure, why not? I wired her the money she required to make the purchase.

So, with my good deeds completed for the day, I headed out to support the local bars and the girls who work in them. I started at It Doesn’t Matter and sat with my regular there, Agnes. I started feeling hungry, so I ordered a chicken burger, and Agnes went with chicken fingers. They do a good job for a bar kitchen.

I tend to like to move around some, so after the meal, I paid up and headed out. I hadn’t been to Blue Butterfly in quite a while, so I hoofed it on over there to see how my friend Tee was doing. I prefer the outside area, and as I entered, I received a warm greeting from the gals sitting around waiting for customers. One of them told me she’d go fetch Tee, so I sat down at my favorite table, expecting Tee to bring my beer. Instead, I was served by another gal who knew me, but I didn’t recall her at all. She mentioned that we had met at the old T-Rose bar, but it still didn’t ring a bell. When I confessed that I didn’t even know her name, she seemed genuinely disappointed. “I’m Jo; you really don’t remember?” Sorry. About this time, Tee came out and stood beside the table (there were only two chairs). I chatted up Tee, asked when she’d be returning to the Hash, and the usual how you been talk. Jo didn’t take the hint to leave, so I figured I’d be entertaining two gals (not that unusual). Then Tee just walked away without a word. Saw her briefly chat with the girls on the other side of the patio, then she went back inside the bar. WTF was that all about? I was down to my last swig of beer and had intended to have a second and order two lady drinks for the girls. Instead, I just paid my tab, tipped Jo, and left. I don’t have any reason to return to Blue Butterfly now.

There are always other options, and I had another “buy one, take one” coupon for Hot Zone. I was a little surprised when my friend, the door girl, didn’t follow me inside. I soon discovered why–some two-week millionaire had every single girl inside the bar surrounding him at his table. And it wasn’t just lady drinks he was buying–he had a shitload of food delivered from Sit-n-Bull as well. To their credit, a waitress would always come over to serve me when needed. I tried to have a drink sent outside to the door girl (she couldn’t come inside because there was no one available to take her place) and was told that she had one waiting for her from Mr. Rich Guy. Okay, good. Everyone was taken care of, and I could give my wallet a rest.

I chatted with owner Jay for a bit; then he went out to walk his dogs. A bit later, a group of bikers (The Mad Dogs from Angeles) came in. They took up seats around the empty dance stage with “now what?” looks on their faces. You know, I get it. The girls love the big spenders, and I’m sure it is good for the bar’s bottom line. That guy with the deep pockets spent more in the hour I was there than I might do in a month, and I’m on the generous side of the scale. Still, there were eight or nine other customers in a girly bar with no available girls. Not sure what, if anything, you can do about that.

And while all of this drama was going on, I got a message from my helper that the water pump wasn’t working. I messaged my landlord in Singapore, and he responded that he was sending a plumber. Then an hour or so later, I heard back from the helper that the next-door neighbor had inadvertently turned off my water at the meter, thinking it was his. And yes, it was the plumber who discovered this fuck up. I felt bad for having put the landlord through this unnecessary expense and hassle, but honestly, I would have never even thought to check the meter. Oh, well.

I intended Green Room to be my final destination on the night, but it was packed with pool players for league night, and I didn’t see anywhere to sit. I shrugged and moved next door to Wet Spot. Thankfully I didn’t see Marga working, and I think Aine is long gone now, but I sat at the manager’s table and chatted with a couple of folks I know. A bit later, my favorite Green Room waitress appeared and was thirsty for a lady drink. They have an arrangement between the two bars that staff can join customers in either location and still earn commissions on drinks. I actually think that’s a good arrangement for both patrons and employees. Still, it seemed a little strange to be drinking with a Green Room waitress while my Wet Spot waitress looked on. So, I erased that discomfort by buying her a drink too. Then the cute little bartender caught me giving her the eye, so I smiled and sent her a drink as well. Yeah, I might have been a little drunk at this point.

Still, it was only a little after 8:00 p.m. when I caught a trike for home. And then I proceeded to eat almost the whole half gallon of the irresistible Butterfinger ice cream I had purchased that morning. Okay, I guess I was a little drunk.

Hey, but what a day, right? Next up is my Wednesday bargirl feeding at Hideaway and whatever comes after. Join me tomorrow for a full report of the night’s events and also the photo essay from this morning’s hiking adventure in Castillejos.

Joy came over for a visit yesterday afternoon. It was pleasantly fulfilling. Afterward, I took her to Mango’s and treated her to the grilled pork chops. I guess she must have liked them; that’s what she wants for dinner on Sunday.

A commenter asked for the details of the relationship I have with Joy. However it might be characterized, a relationship is probably an overstatement. Joy is in her early twenties and has two young children. That’s pretty much a deal breaker for me. Don’t get me wrong; she is a very sweet and kind young woman, but as a mother, she is not free to provide me with the things I desire in a relationship. For example, I want to cuddle all night and wake up next to the woman I love. But since I’m not going to raise someone else’s kids at this late stage in my life, there is no potential future with Joy.

So, nowadays, I visit Joy at Hideaway on Wednesdays and Sundays and feed her and the girls some dinner. Joy comes to see me at my place once a month or so. I reward her for her TLC, and she goes home happy. It is what it is, nothing more, nothing less. I guess that’s an example of me being a “sweet father.”

Another commenter has noticed the propensity of moles on the faces of many Filipinas. I also observed that phenomenon when I first arrived, but I guess I’ve grown accustomed to it now. Not sure if it is a genetic thing or just that Western women are more inclined to get the moles surgically removed. I suppose they can be a little distracting, but they are not that big a deal to me.

I guess it is good to remember it is not what’s on the face that matters, but what’s in the heart.

After Joy left, I headed out to Cheap Charlies. I figured I’d have a couple of drinks and then visit Hot Zone when it opened at 6:00 to use my discount coupon. I could keep an eye on things from my vantage point at CC, but for some reason, Hot Zone failed to open at six as scheduled. So, I just said, “fuck it,” and ordered another round for my crew and me.

I hadn’t used up all of my 500 peso voucher at Alaska Club, so I stopped there on my way home. It turned out to be a little expensive. I was the only customer, and my earlier drinks had triggered my generosity mode. I gave each of the six dancers a 50 peso tip expecting nothing in return. But those sweet girls pulled down their tops to show me their tits. Made me feel like a sweet father again.

I, of course, took care of my waitress and my second favorite Joy, with lady drinks. I’ll be seeing Joy #2 tonight at Queen Victoria for the SOB–she’s one of the Alaska dancers.

I started my yesterday with a beach walk on Baloy.

I’m not sure what’s up with my Lucky dog. He’s taken to joining me in bed at night, and I’m okay with that. But he has his own way of doing it.

Fine, be that way.

I’ll leave you with this little gem:

Back tomorrow with a photo report from today’s hike and any worthy news from my SOB adventure.

It has been said that money can’t buy happiness. That may be true, but it does buy things that make me happy. Yesterday’s big purchases were a cart full of groceries and a new desk chair But it is not just material things for my own benefit that give me some feel-good moments. The mountain mama widow I provide grocery money for each week always expresses genuine gratitude, and it feels good to be making a difference in her life in some small way. Yesterday she pleaded for a little extra because her kids all had some fever/congestion thing going on. Of course, I obliged. Her thank you message included this photo:

Speaking of sick children, my friend Bhel is currently in Manila, getting her son’s heart condition reviewed at a couple of the major medical centers there. There are still some more tests to be done, but it appears he may be eligible for a program that will provide the required surgery at a significant discount. Here’s hoping things turn out that way.

I was reminded today of the project I initiated to train the woman I thought would be my caregiver here when I retired. Unbeknownst to me, she had different ideas, and next month will mark the fifth anniversary of the broken heart she gave in return for my generosity. Before I knew what was in store for me, I featured her in a post called “Pay it Forward.” In a weird kind of way, maybe that is what she wound up doing. I have no idea whether she’s still with the Englishman she dumped me for or not, but someone besides me will ultimately benefit from the training I paid for, and I guess that’s a form of charity too.

I came across another post called “Charitably speaking,” where I compare my friend in Cambodia paying to have a house built for his girl’s family and my rejection of beggars trying to nickel and dime me while interrupting me in my important work of beer drinking. Yeah, I can be a dick sometimes, too.

Of course, the lion’s share of my “good deeds” is directed towards the hardworking bargirls I encounter on a regular basis. I’m not talking about the prostitutes here; these are the girls working hard on eight to twelve-hour shifts to pay the rent. I’ve been asking around town, and it seems almost all the bars have a standard salary of 200 pesos per day. That’s the equivalent of four dollars, folks. So those lady drink commissions genuinely are a big deal in giving them the ability to make ends meet. I am sincerely glad that I’m able to help out my handful of regulars.

I had a 500 pesos voucher coupon for Alaska Club, and I put it to use last night. And now I have some more Joy in my life:

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about a name to use in conjunction with my charity projects. What do y’all think of “Sweet Father”? It’s original but has a ring of familiarity, doesn’t it?

It’s feeding night at Hideaway Bar, and I’ll be providing a large Hawaiian pizza for dinner.

And I’m sure I won’t be drinking alone tonight, but it is for a good cause!

As always, thanks for your indulgence. I’ll be back tomorrow with pics from today’s hike and maybe some from whatever tonight brings.

Well, to be fair, the sun was shining until I tried to walk. Then the rain took over. I had to abort my morning hike at 5K and catch a trike home (heh, any excuse will do, right?). Shortly after arriving, it was sunny again. Stayed that way until I headed into town sans umbrella. I didn’t want to spend my evening dripping wet, so I popped into BarCelona, the first open establishment I came to (it was still a few minutes before 4:00) to wait out the storm.

The rain eventually let up, and I continued my crosstown journey to Hideaway bar. I made a stop at Chooks to Go and picked up two roasted chickens.

Joy loved the cornbread muffins the best. She’s usually quite generous with her co-workers, but she kept three of the six muffins I brought for herself.

The chicken and brownies were popular with the other girls too. That’s what it’s all about.

After feeding the crew, I went across the highway to John’s place to feed myself. Sat up in the third-floor bar area.

After my dinner, I popped into Cheap Charlies and enjoyed Roseanne and Alma’s company while imbibing some alcoholic beverages.

Finished my evening out with a beer at Snackbar. One of the waitresses was celebrating her birthday, so she got a drink too. The person I had come to see wasn’t there even though she had invited me. That put me in a foul mood, but lesson learned.

But the sun came out this morning, and I had a pleasant dog walk.

Made myself a burrito for breakfast.

And now, it is time to prepare for another Hash Monday. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, so I expect a challenging trail. We finish up on Baloy Beach at the Viking Resort. I’ll post the ups and downs and slips and slides tomorrow.

Thanks for stopping by!

The gathering to honor the memory of Don Bullock at IDM yesterday was thought-provoking. Lots of people we both knew were there, so it was good to see some old familiar faces. I offered the usual condolences to his widow and enjoyed seeing his children looking healthy and happy as they might be under the circumstances. It’s cliche to say “life goes on,” I suppose, but for those in attendance, that seemed to be the modus operandi. What else are you going to do? Don ain’t coming back, and we are still here doing what he’d be doing if he was alive. Cheers to a life well lived and to the friends you left behind!

I guess maybe it is my selfish nature to use the occasion of someone’s death to think of my own inevitable passing. Not so much about the when and how; ultimately, it doesn’t matter if I go from COPD, crossing the National highway, or being fucked to death by a sexy Filipina. Obviously, I’m in no hurry to reach that final destination, but the day comes for all of us. I guess what’s been on my mind is the feeling that my death won’t matter because I’m not an important part of anyone’s life. Sure, I have my kids, but I’ve not seen them for three years and rarely even hear from them these days. They are living their lives, and I’m not part of that. That’s fine; after all, this is the life I’ve chosen to spend on the other side of the world. I’m sure the people I know here would be sorry to see me go, but I wouldn’t be leaving any voids to fill either. And that’s okay, too.

I just wonder why that is. If no one is close to me, it must be my fault for not allowing them more than peripheral access to the person that I am. Or maybe they’re not trying hard enough to know me. Or both. It really doesn’t matter. I’ll continue on with my lonely journey, and perhaps one day, I’ll encounter a fellow traveler to join me. If not, then at least no one will have the power to hurt me again.

Enough of this mental masturbation. Life is what it is, we make the best of it until it is gone, and then we no longer have to worry about whether or not we are doing it right.

There are traditions that must be honored, like feeding the hungry. Tonight the Hideaway girls will be enjoying roast chicken from Chooks to Go. I baked up some cornbread muffins to add substance to the meal.

Yeah, I guess the Hideaway girls will miss me if and when I’m gone.

Oh, please help me,
oh, please help me,
I'm livin' by myself.
I need someone to comfort me,
I need someone to tell.

I'm sorry for
the things I've done,
I've shamed myself with lies,
But soon these things
are overcome
And can't be recognized.

I left my love
with ribbons on
And water in her eyes.
I took from her
the love I'd won
And turned it to the sky.

I'm sorry for
the things I've done,
I've shamed myself with lies,
My cruelty has punctured me
And now I'm running dry.

The Green Room was packed for last night’s SOB competition. It’s a nice bar but not the best venue for a dance contest. Without an actual stage, if you aren’t seated upfront, you are going to have an obstructed view. I got there early and secured what I thought was the best table in the house for watching the dancers. Then a combination of late arrivals and the GRO employees all gathered around in front of the tables. It got a little frustrating at times, but the girls at least were squatting lower so as not to obstruct the view so much.

There was a large group surrounding the table next to mine. Not sure if they were expats or tourists, but they were spending like two-week millionaires. They had a bunch of the bargirls in their company and bought multiple shots of tequila and several rounds of lady drinks for them. I know this because their “dates” used my table as a drink holder. No big deal. They also threw three or four buckets of balls (at 300 pesos each) to see the girls scrambling on the floor to gather them up (I understand they get 10 pesos for each ball they collect). The guys were drinking Red Horse, a popular local brew not served in the Green Room. At first, I thought, why is the bar allowing outside beverages? Then I realized that with the kind of dough these dudes were dropping, it was prudent to ignore. It also dawned on me that your drinks are free during the SOB, so a customer bringing in their own beer actually saves the bar money.

Anyway, it looked like they were all having fun, so who am I to complain? I kept my old man grumpiness to myself.

(the photos above are courtesy of the event host)

I also attended the Aftermath event next door at Wet Spot. That kept me up well past my bedtime–I didn’t get home until almost 10:30! But now I’ve got a pocket full of discount coupons to use up this week. We’ll see how much those discounts wind up costing me.

Saw this today, and it gave me a chuckle:

My other “big event” yesterday was the Friday group hike. Five of us turned up, and it fell on me to lead the way. I took some mostly familiar trails, including a goodly portion of My Bitch, two climbs, and 6K or so. My fellow hikers seemed to enjoy it, so there’s that.

Here are a few photos from the trek:

So, that was my yesterday. Today there will be a memorial for the recently deceased Don Bullock at IDM that I plan to attend. Not sure what else the night holds in store for me, but I’m sure I’ll have something to say about that tomorrow. Assuming I survive.

Glad you asked! I’m from Vaxxy nation. Fully, of course.

Yes, I got my second dose of Sinovac yesterday afternoon. That’s as vaccinated as I’m going to get. The booster isn’t due for three months, and I will need to travel before then. If the Philippines government is to be believed, I will just need a PCR test before flying back if I don’t have the booster. That’s all I can do, so I’ll get on with the business of planning my trip. My first choice is Cambodia, but I’ll need to check flight availability. I prefer flying out of Clark in Angeles rather than making the journey to Manila. So, we’ll see. Lots of options in this big ol’ world.

I’m not feeling any real side effects from this second dose, just a little sore in the shoulder where they jabbed me. The person who gave me the shot said something that sounded like “…drink alcohol for three days,” so I got started on that last night.

I didn’t drink on an empty stomach, though. I invited Joy and her co-worker friend Jen to join me for a pork belly dinner at a relatively new place in town.

The girls walked home after dinner, and I went with them as far as It Doesn’t Matter. There was no one there I really knew, so I only stayed for a couple of drinks. I had gotten a message from Lydell, who used to work at the now-closed Kamto, letting me know she was now employed at Adam’s bar. I decided to pay her a visit.

When I arrived, Lydell was busy doing some paperwork. I guess that’s her job, keeping track of who’s earned what lady drink commissions. I did get a chance to buy her a drink, and we chatted some. She just started the new job yesterday, but she says she is enjoying it so far. I’m glad she landed on her feet.

I probably need to do an update of my review of Adam’s. Last night I took note of the multitude of attractive ladies on staff, but talking to the ones right next to me was almost impossible because of the loud blaring music they were playing. Good songs, just way too much volume. I likely would have stayed longer last night but for that, and with so many other options available, it will be a negative factor should I consider a return visit.

I finished up at Queen Victoria since it was just across the street. The bartender told me a Ray’s gay band was playing later, but I wasn’t in the mood for live music either. In fact, I wasn’t in the mood for anything except going home to bed. I blame the vaxx. Maybe the vaxx caused that bad pun for reggae too.

Oh, well. Today’s another day, and I’ll be SOBing at The Green Room later this afternoon.

Not much to say about another boring Tuesday, but I’ll say it anyway.

The first stop of the day was a visit to the immigration office. My replacement ACR (alien registration) card was supposed to be ready for pick up in three weeks. I waited for four just to be sure. Alas, it still wasn’t available. I’ll try again next week.

Grocery shopping was uneventful, especially if you can avoid injuring your neck from shaking your head at all the inflated prices. I also just shrugged off the many out-of-stock items I had hoped to purchase.

I had a nice massage in the afternoon. My masseuse was still uncomfortable about my breathing attack during her last visit and didn’t want to risk another, so she gave me an ending that didn’t require much effort on my part. I was satisfied with the outcum. *ahem*

My friend with the retired military mailbox messaged that my replacement credit card had arrived, so I went to meet him at It Doesn’t Matter to pick it up. I treated him to a couple of beers for his trouble, and I enjoyed some soda and gin drinks.

When it came time for a change in scenery, I moseyed down to Sit-n-Bull to order up some dinner. I had a 10% discount coupon from the SOB I needed to use, and so I went with the club sandwich with a side of slaw and had them deliver it around the corner at The Green Room. I had a couple more drinks there while I enjoyed my meal.

Next up was Alaska Club, where I had another “buy one, get one” drink coupon to utilize before its expiration. Owner Jerry had just returned from a trip home to the states; it was good to say hello. And thanks again for the free drink! Anyway, those coupons are only good for one night, so you need to drink a lot to maximize their value. So, obviously, I’m not responsible for over-imbibing. But since I felt compelled to buy lady drinks for my waitress and one of the dancers, the longer I stayed, the more it cost me. Those coupons really aren’t such a good bargain after all.

I left Alaska but wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. I intended to pay a visit to Queen Victoria, but as I passed Johansson’s, I saw my Hash friend Reggie (What’s Up Doc) sitting alone at the bar. I thought I’d stop in to say hello, but as I walked through the door, her new boyfriend appeared and embraced her. I sat down on the other side of the bar and ordered a beer (I thought it would have been awkward to turn around and walk back out). After finishing my brew, I continued my journey to Queen Victoria.

I ordered up another beer, and before long, my friend (on FB anyway) TinTin joined me at the bar. Naturally, I bought her a lady drink. I was a little too far gone at this point to remember to take a picture of her, but here’s the one I took last time we met:

Anyway, I was one and done at QV, walked outside to be greeted by a trike driver, “going home, John?” I have no idea how these guys found out my name, but it does make it easy when they know the way to my house. Once I arrived home, I ate too much ice cream (chocolate almond this week) and then went to bed.

Facebook memories brought back some of the good ol’ days this morning:

Some days just aren’t worth writing about, are they? I’m not responsible for your wasted time if you read this one. It’s bound to be better tomorrow. See you then!

And so the circle of life continues.

My mission was to feed the hungry. My destination was Hideaway bar. The dinner was tacos.

After I completed providing nourishment to the bargirls and enjoying a few drinks, including a free one from the manager, Griff, it was time for me to move on to my next destination–John’s place. Putting duty before self, I had not as yet had my own evening meal.

I had a dual purpose in visiting John’s place; it will be my next review in the Bars of Barretto series.

After my meal, I hoofed it to the other side of town and finished my night at Snackbar.

When my time was up and my night was done, the girls fetched a trike to take me home. A banana-mango-pineapple smoothie for dessert then I was off to bed.

It’s Hash Monday, and I’m a Hare, so that meant an early start this morning laying paper, powder, and chalk to mark today’s trail. I guess I should say trails. We are doing a short and long version–one 6K, the other around 8K. The trails split in the middle of the hike and rejoin towards the end. Both are mostly flat. We were fortunate to have some sunny weather this morning; hopefully, that holds up through the afternoon.

I had my hands full with trail marking paraphernalia, but here are a couple of shots I took along the way:

And now it’s raining again. I hope our trail markings hold up.

I’ll be meeting the 2:00 group at the VFW to provide trail guidance and answer any questions. Some Hares will re-walk the trail with the Hashers, but I’m going to take a pass on that this time. Honestly, it just isn’t that challenging to the point of being boring. Once is enough for me!

Trying to think of a song to bookend with the title of this post, but couldn’t really find a good match. Considered the Door’s Break On Through, but that was more of a stoner song. Gonna settle for some Juice Newton instead. Hope your Spanish is up to speed!

Tropical paradise
But the beauty escapes me
Everything should be so right
For falling in love

Two hearts belong
But one heart remains so unhappy
Nothing else matters to me
No nothing at all

Puedes traerme tu amor
Adiós mi corazón how I love you
Puedes traerme tu amor
Adiós mi corazón
I hope the words are right
'Cause they're the only words
I know tonight

Oh! The nights are never ending
I don't know why
No comprende
Days are longer than
You'll ever know
Adiós mi corazón

First things first:

I wasn’t hungry when I left home yesterday, so I didn’t go to John’s place to start my evening. I had some drinks at It Doesn’t Matter instead. Then a few more at The Green Room. While I was there, I got a message from Lydell at Kamto asking if I wanted to join them for their last night.

Yes, a favorite hangout is closing. The sad thing is that it is closing because the landlord won’t renew the lease. Apparently, she decided that’s a nice little business they’ve got there, and so she’ll just keep it for herself. That kind of fucked up shit happens here more often than you’d think.

They went out with a bang, at least. I bought several rounds of drinks as a going away present.

Went out with Ed this morning to finalize the Hash trail for tomorrow. Naturally, it was raining. The part we needed to scout out was the hill climb portion.

We came up with a workaround trail that will have to suffice. We’ll mark it up with chalk, paper, and powder tomorrow morning.

What else? Well, Facebook reminded me that I didn’t wake up alone six years ago.

Which I guess explains this:

How about a bit of nostalgia from the good ol’ days? This ad for 7-Up certainly resonates today.

That’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for stopping by!

Had a productive visit with my doctors (husband and wife) yesterday. I will be trying some different meds to cure whatever it is that ails me. I spent almost an hour in consultation/treatment (I had something squirted up my nose to treat my sinus condition). Total fee for the office visit: 1050 pesos (less the twenty dollars). The docs also told me they would be moving into Alta Vista soon. Welcome neighbors!

I had a couple of hours before the SOB began, but deemed that not long enough to go back home and return. Hey, any excuse for an early start will do, right? But first I went to the salon for a haircut. I wanted a foot spa too, but two gals were waiting ahead of me, so never mind. Doors at Whiskey Girl, the SOB venue, weren’t scheduled to open until 5:00, so I decided to kill an hour drinking and eating at Cheap Charlies.

Then it was up the highway to Whiskey Girl, where I settled into a front-row seat and waited for the show. I didn’t wait alone, though; I had Jen, my favorite WG waitress, by my side. Alaska won the contest, and Whiskey Girl was the runner-up. I’m starting to notice a home-bar bias amongst my fellow judges. I’m not judging them; just making an observation.

I decided not to attend the Aftermath gathering at Wet Spot following the SOB. Instead, I planned to go to Thumbstar and watch Joy and the Hideaway girls perform a dance routine there. I had some time to kill before the 9:00 p.m. start, so I dropped in for a quick beer at Johansson’s. A dart tournament was underway, so I got to say hello to some of my old darts friends I hadn’t seen in a while.

Thumbstar has opened a shwarma shop on the patio in front of the bar. I’ve been meaning to give it a try, but haven’t eaten there yet. I wasn’t hungry last night, though. That beef stew was very filling, not to mention all the beers and finger foods I had enjoyed during the SOB. I was very surprised, though, to see my old friend Rica was running the shwarma kitchen (there are other things on the menu as well). She kinda disappeared during the scamdemic, so it was nice to run into her again.

The Hideaway gals arrived a few minutes after nine. Joy spotted me right away and joined me at my table. Her friend Jen accompanied her. So, yeah, more lady drinks were served. Turns out the dancing didn’t start until 10:00, and I knew I wasn’t going to make it that long. So, I said my goodnights and caught a trike for home.

Based on last night’s reconnaissance, I updated the Thumbstar review.

Feeling somewhat better today; hopefully, that trend continues. No big plans for my Saturday night, but I’m thinking about starting out at John’s place for some dinner and maybe a visit to his upstairs bar. I still need to do a review there for the Bars of Barretto series.

And that’s where things stand as of now.

As I mentioned yesterday, I felt like shit all day. Of course, that didn’t stop me from heading out to the bars when beer o’clock came around. It seemed logical that a few gin and sodas would ease my suffering. Anyway, it was worth a try.

The first thing that happened when I arrived at It Doesn’t Matter was hearing the news that a long-time acquaintance had just died.

Don was only 62 but had been in poor health for several months, and he was recovering from a broken hip at the time of his passing. Apparently what killed him, though, was his COPD. The guy telling me about his death had been at the hospital with him, and the doctors couldn’t get the respirators to oxygenate his blood. At least, that’s how I understand it. Don was a heavy smoker right up until the end, and if you are suffering from COPD, that’s going to kill you pretty quick. Anyway, Don was a good guy, and I’ll miss seeing him around.

Thankfully, whatever is going on with me is nowhere near that severe, but I’m going to see the doctor this afternoon for advice on how to keep things stable. I wound up not staying at IDM very long, turns out the drinking wasn’t making me feel better after all. Still, I had one more mission to accomplish–the long-awaited review of Lux bar.

I didn’t stay at Lux long; two beers (buy one, get one during happy hour) and out. I took a few crappy photos before leaving and wrote a bar review this morning.

I slept better and woke up feeling better, or at least stronger. I did the Friday group hike this morning and survived, but man, those hills sure do get me huffing and puffing.

Time to shower up and see what the doctor says. And after that, it’s SOB Friday at Whiskey Girl. What a life!

My energy and motivation levels are both running on empty. That’s probably because I had coughing fits that kept me awake most of the night. Still hocking up the yellowish phlegm. I’ll be paying a visit to Dr. Jo on Sunday afternoon (yeah, she maintains unusual office hours, works for me, though). Needless to say, I didn’t do a walk today, although I did take two naps. So far.

Once my work was done at Hideaway, I headed back up the highway to my side of town. I had initially planned to review the relatively new Lux bar. Then I realized I had another “buy one, get one” coupon for the Green Room. Lux will have to wait for another day.

I did enjoy the company of three waitresses at my table, and one of them, Angie, tripped some of my triggers. Seeing as how we weren’t alone, I wasn’t able to get her story. I’ll definitely look for her on my next visit. I did buy the gals a pizza to go with their lady drinks, though.

I also updated my bar review for The Green Room.

As I mentioned up top, I had a shitty night once I got home, and today hasn’t been much better. But this too shall pass. And there were some reminders that it’s good to be alive.

Also, so far this month, I’ve paid for meds for a bargirls sick mom in the province, a much-needed dental appointment for a Filipina friend’s son, rent for another friend, and a small refrigerator. And for the record, I’ve also said no to requests I deemed in violation of Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker). Anyway, it does make me feel good to help a little bit when I can.

I stay away from engaging in politics here at LTG, for the most part, these days, but occasionally I come across something that needs to be shared. Glenn Greenwald is a liberal journalist. But he is also an honest man who tells it like it is. And today, he made a strong case that it is the left who have earned the fascist moniker. Lots of examples, but the one that really stands out for me is the collaboration between the government and social media companies to suppress speech, a clear violation of the Constitution’s First Amendment. And the press, which should be outraged by this violation of fundamental rights, are willing participants in this effort to silence viewpoints the left doesn’t like. Give it a read and tell me what you think.

That’s all for now, dear readers. I’ll be back with more tomorrow. You’ve been warned!

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels
Look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through
Looking into their eyes I see them running, too

Running on, running on empty
Running on, running blind
Running on, running into the sun
But I'm running behind

Wow, three posts in one day. What’s up with that? Well, the other posts were about bars, and now it’s time for your daily dose of me. So here goes.

It wouldn’t be a post about me if it didn’t include me in a bar. Of course, I only visit the bars on days that end in “y,” and SaturdaY qualifies. Actually, I had intended to go to Whiskey Girl. It was raining when I left the house, so I didn’t take the dirt path shortcut; instead, I walked out to the highway. When I reached the highway, the owner of Snackbar across the road saw me and beckoned me to come over. I waved and kept on walking. But then I had a change of heart, deciding to have just “one” as a friendly gesture. I wound up staying until my quitting time, a little before nine. I honestly can’t remember the last time I stayed in the same bar for the entire length of my outing. Well, they do have a cute and friendly staff that was pampering me. In return, I ordered in some food and provided beverages in the form of lady drinks. Then, my pal Ron showed up; I got drafted as the DJ and was having a good time, so why bother leaving?

Up bright and early at my usual 0400 to face another rainy day. This latest storm has been a little tricky–the sun peaks through the clouds, and you think it’s safe to walk your dogs without bringing an umbrella. And then, once you reach the furthest point from your house, it starts pouring down rain again. Oh well, that’s the way it goes.

I baked up a batch of cranberry muffins to warm myself after the drenching.

After my carby hearty breakfast, it was time to brave the rain for my morning walk. I did arm myself with an umbrella this time. Since I needed to stay on the pavement, I decided to trek out to Subic town to empty the ATM. I got the cash without issue, but on the walk back home, my feet got soaked wading through huge puddles on the shoulder of the highway.

Got home safe and sound, took a nap, and worked on the previously mentioned posts. Now I need to bake a carrot cake as part of the feeding I have scheduled at Hideaway bar tonight.

I’m also happy to announce that all my hard work is paying off.

I’ll be back! I hope.

Another wet one yesterday, but life goes on, and into each life, some rain must fall.

The Friday walking group didn’t let a little precipitation keep us from our scheduled jaunt. We did confine ourselves to the relative safety of the pavement, dodging cars instead of raindrops. I’ll post the photos from that endeavor at the end of this post.

After the hike, I decided to try something new for lunch. It has been months since I fired up the grill, but I had defrosted some pork chop steaks, and it was time to give them a whirl.

It was a rainy afternoon, and when the time came to head to Voodoo for the SOB, I was thankful for my umbrella. Voodoo doesn’t open until 5:00, and I arrived a little after 4:00, so I hung out at Cheap Charlies while I waited.

Naturally, I took care of my regular CC girls, but I was drinking slowly, knowing I had a long night of imbibing ahead of me. As I did last week, I switched to San Mig Zero to moderate the rate of alcohol consumption. When I saw Voodo was opening, I paid my tab, said goodnight to the ladies (there were three of them), and made my dash across the rain slickened highway.

The last time I visited Voodoo was for the SOB over a month ago. Josie, the gal who kept me company on that occasion, latched onto me as soon as I walked through the door.

Voodoo is the smallest SOB venue of them all, and it was packed by the time the competition began. It was good that I arrived early to secure a comfortable seating location.

The results:

The Aftermath party was at Hot Zone. I stayed there until about 9:30, and that was all I could muster. Caught a trike outside and finished my rainy night out on the town still standing.

Up this morning, ready to tackle a new day. Had the leftover fixin’s from yesterday’s burrito, so I decided to put them where they belonged: in my belly. I was bragging in yesterday’s post about learning how to brown my tortilla in the frying pan, but my foodie commenter, Kevin Kim, pointed out I was still doing it wrong. I’m supposed to fry the whole damn burrito, not just the tortilla. Well, my problem is I like to overfill the tortilla with so much goodness that it can’t be rolled properly, and there is always some spillage. This morning, I cut back on the insides and made it look like an actual burrito.

Yesterday, commenter James suggested I map out some potential bar crawls for like-minded readers here. Sounds like fun to me. Of course, I’m going to need to learn a thing or two about making maps, but I’m sure there’s a way, even for a techno-peasant like me. The first step in that endeavor was to use my morning walk to take a picture of each Barretto bar. They are all on the National Highway, and thanks to my Map My Walk app, I know that the whole of Barretto along the highway is a mere 1.15 kilometers in length. The app also provided me with a rudimentary map that I could work with as a start. I’ll be doing a post about those efforts in more detail tomorrow.

When I left the house this morning, it was not raining, and I neglected to take my umbrella. I soon came to regret that oversight. I don’t mind walking in light rain, but a downpour is just too damn uncomfortable. Heading up the highway, the skies opened, and I rushed to take refuge in one of the two bars that are open during the morning hours–Dynamite Dick’s.

As is his custom, Dick gave me a chit for a free drink, but I respectfully declined his kind offer. The rain had let up, and it was time to complete my mission. Arizona Resort is at the end of the bar district in this direction, so I turned off my app, crossed the highway, turned on the app again, and walked back, documenting the bars on that side of the road. About the time I reached Sit-n-Bull, the skies opened up again, and I took shelter inside.

I also enjoyed a nice chat with owner Ron about the local bar scene. He’s happy to be strictly in the restaurant business these days.

Finished the last bar on this side of the road (Queen Victoria), then decided to head back home even though I was nowhere near my step goal for the day. Walking in the rain is overrated, and sure enough, it started pouring again before I reached my house. Oh well, at least I was able to put on dry clothes.

Here are some photos from yesterday’s hike: (just a reminder, as always, photo credit to Scott for many of these)

My Saturday night is rapidly approaching. I’m planless and clueless. That could make things interesting. Tune in tomorrow to find out what happens.

Since I stole some Huey Lewis lyrics, the least I can do is post the video of his song.

I just keep plugging away and making the best of each day I have left in this so-called life of mine. I ain’t complaining. Much. I do what I please when I please, and I’m getting better at not caring about the things I’m powerless to change. There is freedom in that attitude, and I’m going to embrace it as much as I am able.

Ha! Brave words, I know. And it might appear that my reality is not always in accordance with my objectives. But I take comfort in my routines, and I’m always keeping my eyes open for the next big thing. In the meantime, this is what I’ve been up to:

I only took one photo on the hike. I was doing my standard walk through the Naugsol valley when I noticed the landscape had recently changed.

A quiet afternoon at home, then it was time to see what was happening in my little town. I started out at It Doesn’t Matter, where I usually find a friendly face or two. Yesterday it was Chris and his lovely lady. As I was sitting there, my gaze turned towards the bar across the street named Chill. It opened a few months ago, and I’d never been there before. With nothing better to do, I decided I’d visit and write up a review. You can read about the experience here.

When I was done Chill-ing, I moved on to Wet Spot. They were just opening up when I arrived, so I had the honor of being the first customer. They have a promotion called the “passport,” and every time you buy a drink, you get a mark on your card. After six drinks, you get a free drink, and for the remainder of the night, all your drinks are half-price. The passport is also honored in the Green Room venue. Welp, my passport was full, so I settled in to get my money’s worth. During the course of my evening, I had a nice chat with Brett, the manager, about bands we had seen live in the 70s and 80s (he’s also a California boy). Then Jeff, the owner of Treasure Island, arrived, followed shortly after by Wet Spot owner Dave and one of my neighbors here in Alta Vista. It was a good evening of socializing with some folks other than bargirls. Although Aine, my regular who’d been missing in action during my last couple of visits, wound up making an appearance.

I went home a little drunker than normal, but at least my trike driver made it all the way to the house. I was still in good enough condition to concoct a batch of strawberry-banana smoothies that I enjoyed with my helper.

I’m still dealing with some lung issues, nothing as severe as the other day, but I did wake up at 3 a.m. wheezing, so I got up to use my nebulizer and started my day a little earlier than normal.

It was a rainy morning, and Lucky said, “fuck that,” refusing his daily walk. Buddy doesn’t care; sniffing the smells on the streets of the neighborhood is his favorite part of the day.

I still had an hour before the Friday group hike, so I decided to spend some time in the kitchen. It seemed like a good morning for a burrito breakfast.

I’ll post about the hike tomorrow. Time for me now to shower up and prepare for this week’s SOB. It’s being held at Voodoo, a smallish venue, so I don’t want to be late.

And if you said, "This life ain't good enough."
I would give my world to lift you up
I could change my life to better suit your mood
Because you're so smooth

And it's just like the ocean under the moon
It's the same as the emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of loving that can be so smooth, yeah.
Gimme your heart, make it real
Or else forget about it