…keeps on turning. And so the Journey continues. *ahem*
More of the same around here. Nothing wrong with that I suppose.
Before he was Lucky. Facebook reminds me that is was just one year ago that I was feeling pity for this poor pup. Tied up all day with no food or water. No love either. A couple of days later he was mine.Lucky seems to be enjoying his new life.He looks dead in this one, but that’s one of the ways he likes to sleep. Fat and happy.I’m pretty sure he learned this position from Buddy.
Something “interesting” from yesterday’s walk:
Three new houses under construction here in Alta Vista subdivision. There are four others being built nearby. It seems to be a boomtown these days around here.
I couldn’t feel the burn yesterday, but I could sure as hell see it.
Not sure what was going on here. Normally the burns are white smoke. It makes me wonder if this might be a house or a building on fire.That’s what a thatch grass fire looks like. I guess folks are sick and tired of all this clean air we’ve been experiencing…
Well, they warned us that if Trump wasn’t impeached he would have limitless power. And now he’s gone and changed the twenty-dollar bill into a 2020 note.
Works for me.
And what are you doing for Valentine’s Day?
Won’t be a problem for me!
I’m actually going to return to Baguio City for the Valentine’s run with the La Union Hash House Harriers.
And that’s all I’ve got for today boys and girls. Thanks for dropping by!
I never apologize. I’m sorry, that’s just who I am.
A satisfying evening of darts yesterday. Win or lose I want to throw well, and last night I was at least decent. Far better than the last time I played. I drew a solid female partner and so did my friendly rival, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink. And as seems to frequently be the case, we went head-to-head in the winner’s bracket. The match went all three legs and I’ll confess to being somewhat surprised when we prevailed. Unsurprisingly, Steve and Jo came back up through the loser’s bracket to meet us again in the finals. And once again, Liza and I managed to eke out the win after three hard-fought legs. Heh, it’s fun to win a well-played tourney.
Good job partner!
In other news, Scott (Pubic Head) asked me if I’d do Monday’s trail with him (he’d missed the Hash). Well, I was planning on doing the Wednesday Walkers group hike anyway and I figured the devil I knew could be no worse than what those guys may have in mind. So, there I was again up on the big mountain. We did bypass one of the downs and ups, but still had 5K+ by the time we were back on the pavement. Neither of us wanted to complete the remainder of Leech’s original trail that I had failed to do on Monday.
That would be Scott navigating his way down through a dry creek bed near the end of our hike yesterday.
I did however finally finish the final portion of the trail for my morning walk today. It was a familiar stretch that joins up with My Bitch eventually.
The climb up consists of these tires……and these steps. Plus a bit more uphill on the trail. A good climb by itself, but at the end of a long-ass hike, it would have been a killer. Glad I had the good sense to quit on Monday while I was ahead. So, here is the entirety of Leech My Nuggets’ Hash trail which I managed to complete in only three days!
My offerings for today’s “interesting” photo feature:
I observed this kite-astrophe in Alta Vista.
I know I promised to bring you something other than flowers, but these were irresistible:
Not a leaf on this tree. I’d call it dead but for those three flower blossoms. Maybe that was Mother Nature conveying a message of hope–all is not lost!
So, I listen to music while I walk. I’ve created some “mixtapes” on the Spotify app, but sometimes I’ll just play a set of “created for you” selections Spotify thinks I’ll like. Now, at my age, I’ve heard just about everything (except the new stuff those punk-ass young folks listen to). And most of the songs Spotify chooses for me are familiar. But then I heard one that was completely new to me and I actually liked it! Great musical beat, but the lyrics really grabbed me for some reason. The song is San Francisco B.C. by a group called Silver Jews. Never heard of them either. Anyway, give it a listen if the mood strikes you.
Old San Francisco, San Francisco B.C. I lived with my true love and she lived with me “Romance is the douche of the bourgeoisie” Was the very first thing she imparted to me We had sarcastic hair, we used lewd pseudonyms We got a lot of stares on the street back then
Since her dad, a local barber, had been beaten to death She had become a vocal martyr in the vegan press The cops had failed, they couldn’t catch a bus They were looking for a male with a bad hair cut Enter tumbleweed, exit love and our affaire d’amour Was set on self-destruct
She said “you don’t make enough to provide for me” I said “what about the stuff that we quote believe?” She said “I left that on the sands of history I’ve found a new man to take care of me He dresses for success and emergency And he moves a lot of concrete on the QVC”
Middle-aged and deadly, like a cobra in the shade Sat in the midst of the smoke that he made His name was Mr. Games and he owned the place It was a lonely bar and grill in the Lower Haight He had a jeweler’s hands and a blurry face He knew I needed a chance so he gave me a break
“If I hire you now, can you start today? I got a high-rise job down by the bay Just a couple of rocks and some firearms There’s not many locks and just one alarm My step-son Gene will pick you up and drive Try to be his friend, he’s got a friendly side”
Doll-house lightning and the next thing I knew We were back at our point of rendezvous I was in the possession of burglary tools Children’s fur coats and diamonds and jewels Gene’s talking about insignificant shit Just like crooks in the movies when they do that bit
He said the power of metal will never be harnessed I thought the wages of metal should be heavily garnished We were waiting for his dad to meet us there Gene took off his hat and I noticed his hair It was neatly trimmed but a patch was bare I knew it wasn’t the wave, it was human error
Before I knew what I said, I said “killer cut” I watched him silently putting out a cigarette butt Then he came at me with some fist cuisine I had to duck aside and that was bad for Gene ‘Cause when he went by me he tripped and fell Through the glass coffee table at the Wong hotel
Right there and then Mr. Games walked in With my ex-true love on his gamy limb So her dad’s killer’s dad was her new beau And Games had a wife, whatta you know? She got real real quiet till we chucked the kid Then she went her way and I went his
Tuesday is the day I restock the larders here Casa Rosenda. That means taking a ride out to the Royal Duty-Free grocery store on the old Navy base. I was in for a couple of surprises yesterday. The first was discovering that after more than a month, shredded cheese was back in stock. Here was the second surprise:
Now, I’ve always had to pay a premium to get imported foods I crave. Last time this cheese was in stock it was selling for $6.50, which is about double the USA price. But over ten bucks? No way Jose!
Luckily for me, they had an off-brand available for half the price of Kraft, so I bought four bags of that. I was also pleased to discover that the long-absent tortillas were back on the shelf. I snatched four packs of those as well.
Together again at last!
The shopping excursion wasn’t a total success though. No fresh milk, so I had to buy the Filipino brand that sits on the shelf unrefrigerated. Truthfully it tastes fine, but I just can’t get my mind around milk that hasn’t been kept cold. I have no idea why it doesn’t spoil. I don’t think I want to know.
It looks and tastes like fresh milk. I bring it home and put it in the fridge. It’s fine, I’m sure. I just prefer to get my milk in the dairy section.
I was also disappointed that my favorite brand of cornbread mix was not in stock. Hell, I searched and searched and couldn’t find ANY cornbread on the shelf. I was about to give up when I turned the corner in the baking goods section and spotted two lonely bags sitting on a shelf with unrelated items. I carted them both.
Marie Callendar’s is my second favorite brand so I felt lucky to be bringing her home with me.
And that’s the way it pretty much goes here. I’ve learned to buy in quantity when something is in stock because invariably it will all be gone on a subsequent visit. So yeah, I’m lucky to have a supermarket nearby that even carries these imported goods. That doesn’t mean I can’t bitch and moan when they can’t seem to have the foresight to order fast-selling items far enough in advance to keep them in stock. And yes, I’m living a blessed life if I can devote a blog post to my disappointments at the grocery store.
Anyway, I was finally able to enjoy one of my favorite treats for lunch today:
A homemade burrito! It’s been a while, I’ve missed you, baby!
Yesterday’s walk took me out near Easter mountain:
It was a beautiful afternoon for a hike. It’s actually almost cool (relatively speaking) this time of year. Low humidity and a very nice breeze. Barely broke a sweat on a two-hour walk.
And here’s my submission for the “interesting” photo from that hike:
That’s one way to take out the trash I suppose. Those white bags are a good 8′ above street level. Certainly out of reach for any trash collector who might happen by. Maybe the person responsible is trying to make some kind of statement. Whatever that statement might be, it doesn’t seem to translate to English…
And finally, I’m glad to have found some confirmation that the brain exercises I perform on a nightly basis have some scientific foundation. Cliff Claven can’t be wrong! I used to be a mailman too after all.
Survived another Hash despite the best efforts of the Hare, Leech My Nuggets.
The Hashmobile ride out to the trailhead is always my least favorite, and arguably, the most dangerous part of the Hash.Stretching our legs after disembarking from what was thankfully only a 15-minute ride.And we are ON-ON!
Actually, at first, I was pleasantly surprised. We did the big mountain but the climb up was via the ridge road, the easiest way to the top. Relatively speaking anyway.
I always enjoy hiking the ridgeline (once I’m up there). Look left and you can see Olongapo City……and look to the right to see Barrio Barretto and Baloy Beach.
So once we were up on top, a couple of us were openly speculating about what lay in store for us. When we started heading back down a little-used trail, Buddy Fucker said: “this can’t be right, it’s too soon”. Well, I’ve always given Leech credit for being the best there is at marking a trail, so there was no question we were on the intended path.
And so down we went.
Honestly, it was a reasonably pleasant hike down. Still, in the back of my mind, I knew we were a long way from our On-Home at Baloy Beach and I feared that meant at least one more climb was in my future. Nothing to be done about that now, so I decided to just enjoy my unfamiliar surroundings.
About three-quarters of the way down, we came to a land of broken dreams. Several houses had been destroyed. This one still had some contents like clothing inside. Speculation was it was a government eviction of squatters, but who knows?I’m not sure how this photo came out so wrong. That tree limb was actually a handrail for a rather steep climb down to that rickety footbridge at the bottom. Ah, I think I had my camera on a zoom setting without realizing it…Another abandoned/destroyed house. The trail actually took us THROUGH this one…The pleasantness was about to end as sure enough, Leech had us climbing back up to the ridge road.
It was a tougher uphill than the first one, but certainly nothing as bad as Günter likes to put us through. Of course, if we had been more forward-thinking we’d have just stayed on the ridge road and avoided the additional ups and downs. But where’s the fun in that, right?
After marching forward for a good bit, the powder on the ground indicated it was once again time to descend from the mountaintop. My group determined that regardless of the Hare’s intentions, this would be our final trip down for the day. Ha Ha! What did we know? Leech’s path meandered down for a while, then up again, then down–and there was seemingly no logical place to exit this roller coaster. Good one, Leech!
How do we get out of here? Just keep plodding forward and hope for the best…
As per usual, I was at the back of the pack. We’d been on trail for an hour and a half with no end in sight. Well, the end of daylight was fast approaching and that always makes me nervous. It took another thirty minutes to finally get off the mountain and back onto the pavement. Some of the group took a trike to Baloy but I was too stubborn to ride back. As it was, I was shortcutting a good 3K from Leech’s trail, which included another climb. Had I attempted that I’d be walking in the wilderness in the dark. No thanks!
I made it back to Da’Kudo’s on Baloy about five minutes before the circle activities began (I usually have close to an hour to drink up some free beer and eat something beforehand). Once again my bitch this week is that the trails are just too damn long for this time of year. Even with the shortcut I took, the sun was almost down when I arrived On-Home. I know I’m old and slow, but damn it’s getting ridiculous.
The long and winding road. Right at 9K according to my Strava app.
Alright, enough grumpiness. Except for being too long, I enjoyed being out there for most of it. I’ll try and do the part I missed tomorrow.
On-On!
UPDATE: Well, that’s a hoot. I used the “Too much of a good thing” title back in May 2016. That post was all about me achieving a 25,000 step goal. And I did it on the flat ground of the Han River bike path. Ah, those were the days. Some nice pictures brought me a flood of memories as well.
Another day in paradise. What can I say? Well, how about this:
We had our first virus-related death in Manila over the weekend. In what may or may not be related news, yesterday a “Chinese-looking” man collapsed on the sidewalk in Manila, and the passerby wouldn’t go near him. I about laughed out loud when I read that after the authorities arrived it turned out to just be a drunk Korean. Fun times!
When I was out surfing this morning I came across this article in Reason: “How the War on Sex Crushes Underprivileged Women”. It mirrors something I’ve been arguing for years–prostitution is not automatically sex trafficking, in fact, that is rarely the case from everything I’ve seen. Especially here in the Philippines. The “go-go” bars are dens of prostitution but I have never met anyone here who was not engaged in that profession by choice. The bars are always advertising for “dancers” and the pay is decent by local standards. Once hired, no one is forced to go with a customer and there are no repercussions for refusing to do so. In fact, I chuckled this morning when I read on one of the local forums about guys complaining the girls are asking for too much money for their puki. I chimed in with this:
Girls get to set their price subject to negotiation. It’s their body after all. Don’t like their final offer? Walk away. If everyone refused to pay more than 2,500 it wouldn’t be long before the price was 2,500. I’m not saying it will be easy. These highly educated bargirls are savvy negotiators. They’ve probably all read “The Art of the Deal”. Still, stand your ground. Or pay their price. One of those.
Anyway, periodically the police will shakedown a bar for bribes raid a bar and arrest the manager and mamasan for prostitution crimes. The girls are carted off to some shelter and a press release says they were “rescued”. Rescued from what? A job that enabled them to support their families (whether they went with customers or not)? And when the bars are closed down, those rescued girls wind up selling their wares from the street, without the comfort and protections (like weekly health checks) provided by the bars. I’m no fan of prostitution and rarely partake myself, but these adult women should be able to sell their ass-ets if they choose to do so. If a man can sell his body carrying bricks on his back for a living, a woman should be able to make money laying on her back. Fair is fair.
In other news, I made up a batch of chili yesterday.
I thought it was a little too bland for my taste. The cornbread though was outstanding!
Regular readers know that I’m no Kevin Kim–I don’t make anything from scratch. But living here in the PI I don’t always find my preferred brands of baking mixes. Last time I went shopping for a cornbread mix, this is what I found:
Never heard of it before. I used to find Marie Callender’s here. That didn’t require me to add melted butter, but oh well.I was really surprised when I opened the box and saw these packets. The box flaps said, “we measure–you mix”. Well, okay then. And as I say, it’s the best damn cornbread I’ve ever baked. Hope I can find it again!
Things of interest from my walk include:
A big ass carabao with a “don’t fuck with me” look on his face.And this sari-sari store.
What was interesting about the sari-sari? Yeah, I walked by at least 50 of them this morning. But this one caught my eye because of the name. And now my mission will be to search until I find a store named “Mortis”. Hey, it’s something to strive for, right?
I’ve got the Hash this afternoon. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, so I’m sure there will be a mountain or two in my future. Coincidentally, Facebook reminded me that I was climbing mountains two years ago today as well:
It’s a tad warmer today though.
Dance, they said Life is only for the moment The light is brief, Don’t waste it. The taste is sweet so taste it. So I said I understand, I’m dancing as fast as I can.
Well, the hoped-for return of some darts glory on the ten-year anniversary of my best game ever was not to be. Despite actually practicing some this week I played like shit last night. Felt bad because my partner came all the out from Angeles City just to play some darts. When he drew me someone told him I was a good player. I’m sure he was disappointed in the way I played too. Ah well, that’s how it goes sometimes I suppose.
The day wasn’t a total bust though. I found the motivation to try and discover an easy way back to My Bitch from Alta Vista. I was stymied at first when I tried to blaze a path through a field next to the house construction that blocks my old route. The construction workers waved me over and showed me a way behind the house. That works for now, but once the place is occupied it’s probably not going to be a viable option. We’ll see.
Once back on the familiar turf of My Bitch, I was resolved to explore the way down I hope to use when I Hare again next month. As I approached the junction I was looking for I entered an area where they’ve been doing some pretty significant burning.
It pollutes the hell out of the air, but I must admit it’s a lot easier walking without being encumbered by thatch grass. I just hope the burning accomplishes some greater purpose, but I have no idea what that might be.
So, I knew the junction by the stand of banana trees but there wasn’t much of a trail that I could see. I dove in anyway and started making my way down to the valley. I hit a couple of dead ends and nothing was looking real familiar, but I trudged on hoping I’d get lucky. Apparently no one is using this path these days. In the past, it was much more defined and I could see evidence of people harvesting bamboo or doing other work up here.
Now it looks like this. And in places, there had been tree falls I had to climb over. Well, I knew where I wanted to go so I just kept looking for the easiest possible way to get there.
And get there I eventually did! Despite the hardship, I’m still hoping to incorporate this section into my trail as Hare. One potential problem is that it appears someone is building a fence at the bottom. Will they complete it before March? I’ll have a Plan B just in case.
But it was good to get back to my roots yesterday. This big ass tree is just barely holding on, but it is a good landmark. Until the next typhoon anyway.
And finally, I found this item of interest on my morning walk today:
I didn’t look to see what was under the hat. Maybe that concrete is really quicksand. Poor bastard!
And there you have another installment from my so-called life. Isn’t it grand?
One of my routines within a routine is to hand out chocolate to the kids I encounter during my Saturday morning walk.
Get it while it lasts!Sweets for the sweet!
Anyway, the kids look forward to my passing by on Saturday. It’s the little things in life, right?
Later on during the walk (long after the chocolate was gone), I was a fair piece upstream on the shitty creek I posted about yesterday. And I encountered this boy fishing:
He was shy about getting his picture taken, but I took a lousy one anyway. Afterward, he asked me for money. I told him no. I’m the candy man, not the money man.
In other news, Facebook reminded me that I was at one time actually pretty good at darts.
A 15 dart out, my best game of 501 ever! That was 10 years ago today. I’ll try and replicate it tonight. Truthfully, I’d be happy to be half that good.
The folks who brew Corona beer have maintained their sense of humor during the virus outbreak (assuming this is real):
You gotta laugh when that happens, right?
Like the time I woke up next to some ugly bitch I met at the bar. I had a godawful taste in my mouth. Got up to wash my face, looked in the mirror and saw a string dangling down between my front teeth. I groaned and said, “please God, let it be a teabag!”.
Yeah, yeah. I won’t quit my day job. Oh wait, I don’t have one.
Thanks for reading!
Champagne don’t drive me crazy Cocaine don’t make me lazy Ain’t nobody’s business but my own Candy is dandy and liquor is quicker You can drink all the liquor down in Costa Rica Ain’t nobody’s business but my own
On the morning walk today I consciously kept my eyes wide open in search of something new or interesting. That’s a challenge because I’ve been walking the mean streets of Barretto for going on two years now. I actually have four basic treks that I utilize to fulfill my morning 10,000 step goal, so I walk each once or twice a week.
Anyway, on today’s path, I crossed the same creek in two different locations. I usually don’t pay much attention to this waterway because unless it’s flooding there’s just no compelling reason to do so. But given my new motivation to be more observant, I took a closer look:
No wonder I haven’t bothered looking too close before! Well, it does speak to the Filipino love of nature I suppose.
About fifteen minutes further up the road, I circled around to head back to the highway and crossed the creek again.
Marginally better here I suppose. Kudos to the folks in this neighborhood. Although a good rain will wash that trash from upstream down here anyway I reckon.
We have three drugstores in Barretto proper. My walk along the highway took me past each one. And they all had something in common this morning.
Walang dispras maskara! I wonder why they’d all be out of face masks? Oh, there was a confirmed case of Coronavirus in Manila yesterday–the first in the Philippines. Not surprising to me. I mentioned in an earlier post that those Chinese cruise ships turned away in Subic were coming from a port of call in Manila. Hey, maybe it’s just a coincidence. I guess if you need a mask around here you are up shit creek for sure!
I continued on up the highway and encountered the old woman I call “mama” (and she calls me papa). I don’t really know her story, but my driver tells me she is a former bargirl. Says she had a foreigner husband who deserted her and took their baby back to his country. And now she lives on the streets. I first saw her a few years ago when I was here as a tourist. She was sleeping behind a billboard on Baloy Beach road. I felt really sorry for her then. These days when I see her (usually five or six times a week) I’ll give her 100 pesos so she can get a meal at least. I think some other foreigners help her out a little too. She still sleeps on the street but I think she is doing alright. She always has a big smile at least.
I don’t usually give money to beggars, but mama is an exception. First of all, she never asks for anything, which I appreciate. And my two bucks gets me a smile and an “I love you, papa”. That’s a win-win!
Okay, that’s enough “interesting” things from one walk, don’t you think? Well, I did take a couple of photos last night at the Arizona floating bar I’ll share with you:
My typical sunset shot came out a little different than usual. The air was hazy (probably smoke from the ubiquitous fires people burn around here this time of year) but it gave the sky a nice orange glow that I found rather pleasing. It was also nice to capture the solitary fisherman plying his trade.I always laugh at the blunt wording on this sign. No floaters on the floater! If you want to shit you literally will have to paddle back to shore on the raft and use a toilet there.
Now, I have it on good authority that the urine deposited in these comfort rooms does NOT flow into the bay. Rather, it is brought to shore and disposed of in the sewer/septic system. I guess hauling shit is just too much hassle. Well, I choose to believe it. Especially when I’m wading in the waters of shit creek Subic Bay!
Random thoughts and observations from an otherwise mundane existence.
It occurs to me that what seems the same is also different. Sometimes it’s a matter of perspective. Other times it simple forgetfulness. At my age perhaps the latter is the more common occurrence.
Take yesterday’s afternoon walk for example. I had it in mind to climb up to My Bitch from a path I hadn’t ventured on for several months. When I got to the trailhead I couldn’t get my walking stick to lock into place. I didn’t want to risk going up without it, so I retreated. I kept fooling around with the stick as I walked and eventually got it functioning properly. About this time I came upon another path leading up that I had used in the past, although mostly for coming down. So upward I climbed without much difficulty, although I noted it didn’t appear the path had been used much recently (covered with leaves and branches and such). When I reached the top, things looked vaguely familiar although I didn’t see anything resembling My Bitch. It was akin to those long-ago days when I searched for a way to get from Rizal Extension to Alta Vista and repeatedly failed.
So, I started down one path and just wasn’t feeling it somehow. So I turned around and tried another. This one wasn’t right either, but it had some faded powder on the ground so I knew it had been Hashed fairly recently. It wasn’t really familiar to me, but I followed it down the mountain anyway. And it eventually dumped me off on Rizal Extension (I had been hoping to find my way back to Alta Vista). I should have gone in the opposite direction. Ah well, everything old is new again when you can’t remember where you’ve been.
I used my new Strava app to map my hike. It says it was a 3.9-mile journey. I seem to recall it felt longer than that…
Speaking of perspective, Althouse linked to an article about an artist I never heard of (Jason Polan) who died recently at age 37. This is what stood out for me:
To walk down the street with him is just a reminder that, no matter how boring you think the day is, there are always interesting things around you.
If you think of just a walk to the corner as an opportunity to see something different, most of us don’t do that normally. He is just this super-voracious observer of everything.
That got me thinking about my walking routines which sometimes are borderline boring, I mean, there are only so many paths you can take in this small town. At least ones I’m willing to do alone. I listen to music which is nice, I think my thoughts that are mood dependent, and I plod along. This morning I decided to try and be more observant for interesting and different things along the way.
So the first thing I noticed was flowers. But what was interesting to me was how this natural beauty was interposed over the ugliness of our civilized world. The fence and utility wires make for a jarring backdrop, to my eye at least.And then there was this decrepit, but occupied, old house. The flowering bushes seem to be painting over the houses rugged ugliness.And finally, there were these flowering vines attempting to give this wall a dual purpose. You can keep the bad guys out but you can’t keep mother nature in.
I’m going to make it a habit to be on the lookout for something new and interesting on my daily walks. Something besides flowers. Perhaps I’ll find a theme for the day as I try a new eyes wide open approach to my routines. We’ll see.
What else? Well, that damn Coronavirus thing is on everyone’s mind it seems, at least if my Facebook feed is any indication. No one knows just how bad it could get, but at least so far so good here in the Philippines.
No reported cases according to this. But honestly, I wouldn’t trust the government here to be honest about it if there were.
Still, it seems the officials are taking forthright steps to prevent the spread of the virus. They’ve canceled the visa on arrival program for Chinese citizens. A planeload of tourists was sent back from Boracay. Subic Bay is a port of call for Chinese cruise ships so I was very happy to hear the news that ships due to arrive this week have been turned away. Of course, those same ships had just departed from Manila, so maybe too little, too late. Well, other than taking the normal precautions, what can you do? We’ve all got to die of something I suppose. I’m all for the later, the better though.
I’m making some progress in accepting there are things I can’t find easily in the Philippines. Sometimes you just have to do without. But I’m also learning to avail myself of goods and services that can be had if you know how to get them. Like shopping through Lazada, the Filipino Amazon.
My new Fitbit was delivered today. What I liked was it was sent Cash on Delivery. Made me much more comfortable making the purchase. It wasn’t supposed to arrive until next week, so I had to scurry around to get the cash, but it worked out.
This made me laugh:
Very punny!
That’s about it for today. Oh, I don’t know any German, so not sure what this is all about:
Some guy posted it in a Facebook comment. The argument was about using proper grammar on social media. I obviously don’t have a dog in that fight.
Yesterday’s first-ever visit to the barangay office was a bit of a fiasco. Or should I just say that everything was done in typical Filipino fashion? Oh wait, those are both the same thing. Anyway, here’s the story with the background reasoning of why I was even there despite having pledged to myself not to go.
Alright, if you’ve been following along, the barangay crap is one the ongoing repercussions from the insane events on the return trip from Sampaloc Cove I wrote about here. During that fateful boat ride, one of the recipients of the drunken physical abuse administered by Hana and Resa was naturally pissed off. Once we reached shore she and her foreigner boyfriend, we’ll call him Jeff, went to file charges with the police. The police apparently referred them to the barangay to seek resolution.
A barangay (/bɑːrɑːŋˈɡaɪ/ (abbreviated as Brgy. or Bgy., may also be as Bo.), sometimes referred to as barrio, is the smallest administrative division in the Philippines and is the native Filipino term for a village, district or ward. In metropolitan areas, the term often refers to an inner cityneighbourhood, a suburb or a suburban neighborhood.[1] The word barangay originated from balangay, a kind of boat used by a group of Austronesian peoples when they migrated to the Philippines
And why you might ask would the barangay get involved in what is seemingly a police matter?
The Barangay Justice System or Katarungang Pambarangay is composed of members commonly known as Lupon Tagapamayapa (Justice of the peace). Their function is to conciliate and mediate disputes at the Barangay level to avoid legal action and relieve the courts of docket congestion.
So, the general consensus of those on the trip is that what happened on the boat should have stayed on the boat. Which is why I and most of the others were not inclined to get involved in Jeff’s complaint. And then the plot thickened when the instigators (Hana and Resa) filed a counterclaim with the barangay asserting that Jeff had physically attacked and choked Resa. Oh brother.
I had ignored Jeff’s attempts to contact me through Facebook messenger; sticking to my decision not to get involved in this nonsense. He cornered me at the Hash and pleaded with me to come and tell what I saw so that he would not be charged with a criminal complaint. Damn. Well, here’s the thing. As much as I don’t want to be involved I can’t sit idly by and watch a fellow foreigner get railroaded by the bitches who caused the trouble and committed the violence. Two Filipinas testifying against the white guy carries a lot of weight in a “justice” system that favors the locals in almost all circumstances. It is the reason I made a decision not to drive here, I knew any accident would automatically be my fault.
I know I’d want someone to stand up for me in a situation like this (even though Jeff brought it on himself by complaining in the first place) so I reluctantly agreed to show up yesterday at 2:30 to explain what I witnessed. And just what did I witness? Well, when crazy Resa was acting like she was going to jump off the boat, Jeff held her down while others attempted to put a life jacket on her. Resa resisted the effort and so Jeff let her go and sat back down. The counterclaim is that Jeff punched and choked Resa which just didn’t happen. Oh, and I also saw Hana punching Jeff’s girlfriend. That’s really all I can say.
So, I got there a few minutes early. I wasn’t sure where to go so I waited outside. I was happy to see several others from the boat ride show up as well, including guys with their Filipina girlfriends. Again, testimony from a local carries more weight from everything I’ve heard and seen. Anyway, Jeff and his gal arrive and he tells us that the meeting is not until 3:00 p.m. He goes inside the barangay office and comes out a few minutes later to tell us that the barangay officials want to talk to the complainants first and will take our statements afterward. Right at 3:00 Hana and Resa walked by our group and went inside the barangay without a word, although they didn’t appear too happy to see us all there.
And so we waited. And waited. Just before 4:00, Jeff comes back out and advises that the barangay folks will not be taking statements today after all. Apparently they used their allotted time in a failed effort to mediate the dispute. So now we’ve all been asked to come back next Tuesday afternoon to provide witness statements. Jeff thanked us profusely for coming and said that Hana and Resa were being completely vindictive and wanted to see Jeff being declared a woman abuser and potentially deported. That’s really fucked up, especially given the fact that the only violence that occurred was at the hands of these two crazy bitches. So yeah, I guess I need to go back next week.
I then proceeded to break my 5 o’clock rule and join my fellow witnesses for beers at Cheap Charlies.
Yesterday’s Hash featured two options: a Toga run/bar crawl or a regular trail. I opted to do the hike. Seeing as how I was in a foul mood anyway and I knew the trail started in Alta Vista subdivision I elected to head out on my own ten minutes early. It wasn’t long before the runners passed me by and later the faster walkers caught up then left me in their dust. Otherwise, I was alone on my hike.
The trail itself wasn’t too bad, about 5K all told. It had some steep ascents and descents in places, but no big hills to master. Reasonably well-marked, I only lost the path briefly once or twice.
Run #1385 as seen from on high…Where the pavement meets the path…The trail markings included shredded paper on the ground and chalk on the trees…A view from the top……and another of the bay.Back on-home at Midnight Rambler.The group who did the Toga run.
My mood hadn’t improved much after my sweaty 1.5-hour hike. I didn’t even stay for the conclusion of the Hash circle.
Today I’ve decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’ve also changed my mind and will in fact give a statement to the Barangay office concerning the Banga boat drunken foibles. An explanation as to why and a report on how that turns out tomorrow.
As seen on yesterday’s walk from the vantage point of a footbridge over the Matain River.
I had a bad time last night and feel like shit today. And yes, it’s female problems. Again. I’m an f’n idiot who seems incapable of learning. My cowardice has not proven effective in protecting my wounded heart. I just need to find the strength to be content with being alone.
Maybe it was a sign, but this morning I found what I’ve been dreaming of, right on the sidewalk as I passed by:
Better late than never I suppose.
This too shall pass.
Playing with the queen of hearts Knowing it ain’t really smart The joker ain’t the only fool Who’ll do anything for you Laying out another lie Thinking ’bout a life of crime ‘Cause that’s what I’ll have to do To keep me away from you
So I walk a lot. And when I’m not walking, I’m sitting. Usually on a barstool. But you knew that already, right? A goodly long walk yesterday afternoon and some darts last night. That filled the hours better than standing still ever could.
A third-place finish again in the tourney. Had Christi, one of the top players as a partner, so was feeling confident. Went head-to-head (or is it hand-to-hand?) with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, in the first round. Steve’s partner was all over the board but got his fair share of lucky hits. Christi and I were both off our games. Steve was playing at a whole other level. Really amazing actually, almost pro caliber. We still managed to take them three legs before being dispatched to the loser’s bracket. We wound up meeting Steve and his partner again in the semi-finals and finished with the same result. Anyway, there is no shame in losing to a superior player, just wish I had played a little better. That’s about all the caring I can muster.
Not much else to share today except some stuff I found amusing on Facebook:
Offended? Who gives a Schiff?It’s good to see a vehicle that wouldn’t dare harm the environment!Yep, I’m sticking with Zero’s too!
Such as it was. Whilst walking yesterday afternoon I noticed some black ash raining down on me. I’m like WTF? I didn’t see anything, but once I removed my headphones, I heard the snap, crackle, and pop of a brush fire. Looked through the trees and saw this:
No big deal, just someone burning the thatch grass for no discernible reason. I don’t know how these fires are controlled, I never see people around tending them. But the fires always seem to burn themselves out without spreading much. This one was done when I passed back by an hour later.
Anyway, that was my “excitement” for the day. Well, I did manage a third-place finish in darts last night. I threw decently and given that my partner was pretty weak, it wasn’t a bad showing.
There seems to be more controversy and fallout from Wednesday’s Sampaloc craziness. The guy I mentioned who declined to give a statement in support of the Barangay complaint has been kicked out of the bar owned by the guy who filed the complaint. Hoo boy. Most of those on the trip are Hashers and I fear there may be some negative impact there as well. Not so coincidentally, I received a Facebook friend request from the complainant today. No doubt he’s seeking my statement as well, but I’m just not going to get involved in this mess.
I’ve instructed Buddy and Lucky to be on guard for any crazy bitches that might be looking for me…
Not much else to report. Well, I did like this:
Hard to impeach that logic.
Speaking of impeachment, I made some pithy reply to a question on the subject in a Quora forum. It elicited this response:
Liberals share news and views with the rest of planet earth and it all corroborates. Conservatives hide in echo chambers where they can make up their own little world with its own little truths. The entire planet Earth agrees with Mr. Weir except for a small group of mostly older, male, white, religious, rural, poorly educated but well armed Americans who believe they know better than everyone else.
This is where you reply “wait until the election and then you’ll see” because you have nothing else to stand on, no truth, no foundation, nothing, just another lame prediction of the future based on the usual, which is your own echo chamber on your own planet.
Enjoy your little planet but Earth is leaving you behind, and you’re trying to hurt the rest of us because you know it’s true.
I think this captures the liberal “head in the sand” mentality as well as anything I’ve seen. Also the tendency to project their own biases and lack of intellectual rigor on others. It’s both sad and funny and explains why we have Trump. Ah well. I have lots of time on my hands but none that I’m willing to waste in responding to this kind of ignorance.
Let me leave you with a little something to cleanse the palate of the political bullshit residue:
A man came home and saw his wife watching a cooking show on TV. “What’s the point of watching a cooking show?” he asked. “You don’t know how to cook?” The wife shot back, “But you watch porn!”
Or as normal as it gets around here anyway. The biggest drama I encountered yesterday was a lack of San Miguel Zero in two different bars. Yeah, life is hard sometimes but we just have to learn to deal with the inevitable disappointments.
Fifteen years ago today I woke up for the first time in The Land of the Morning Calm. I certainly had no idea back then that my life would never be the same again. It’s been a rollercoaster ride but I will never regret my decision to leave my cocoon of security in the USA for a life of comparative adventure in Asia. Here’s the post I did on my first day at work for United States Forces Korea. Highlights included being welcomed by a 3-star General and finding out I was subject to a peninsula-wide curfew for all USFK military and civilians. My reaction back then made me laugh today:
Anyway, I have no problem with the curfew. I’m not big on the bar scene and I don’t see midnight that often anyway.
Well, things change I suppose but I still don’t see midnight that often these days.
Speaking of bars, I popped into Bar Celona last night and encountered a couple of folks from the ill-fated Sampaloc Cove adventure. One of them being the woman who is a former cop and physically restrained an out of control Reza. She showed me the big bite marks on both her arms. I’m no dentist, but I’d say Reza has a healthy set of choppers, that’s for sure. Her boyfriend Joe was holding their dog during the incident and came out unscathed. We quaffed some beers together and revisited the crazy from the perspective of 24 hours distance. I was a little surprised to learn from Joe that this is not the first time that a drunken Hana and Reza had gone psycho. The big news though was that two of the victims have filed complaints with the police and the Barangay office. Joe and his gal have been asked to provide witness statements and they agreed to do so. Another member of our party has declined to get involved in the probe. I haven’t been asked, but I would also not make a statement. What’s done is done and my takeaway is to stay away from crazy folks like Hana and Reza.
Speaking of crazy, yesterday I had the bright idea to follow a part of Günter’s trail from Monday’s Hash in reverse. I had seen where it entered my subdivision and was curious about the path that I had never taken. I was hoping it might be the new way to access My Bitch I’ve been looking to find. Alas, it was not be. You might even say that Günter got some revenge for my having previously avoided his trail. The part I took yesterday led down through a creekbed and required climbing and jumping over rocks and boulders. Granted, the trail as laid by the Hare was going up the creek, but it was still fucked up. I honestly don’t think any of the Hashers did this part of the trail; everyone had taken a short-cut long before reaching the end of an ill-advised 12-kilometer hike. Even the notorious Leech My Nuggets told me he had come back after doing “only” 9K. Ironic that I found myself out there in harms way after all. Well, I made it but I was not pleased with my decision. Lesson learned.
Yep, me bitchin’ and moanin’ about shit is a sure sign that things are back to normal around here. You are welcome!
Sampaloc Cove is a lush, but forbidding, land. Located at the southernmost tip of Subic’s Redondo Peninsula where the tranquility of Subic Bay meets the turmoil of the open sea, Sampaloc Cove is at once a hidden paradise of sprawling white-gray beaches stroked by the foaming turquoise sea and a remote habitat that tests the very survival of the indigenous Ayta people.
Yesterday saw me make a return visit to the lovely Sampaloc Cove. I blogged about the trip last May here. It’s nice to change things up and get out of the normal routines now and then. But I wound up getting a bit more than I bargained for in that regard. That comes later in the story, let’s go to the pictures:
A trip out to the wilds requires some advance preparation. Meat on a stick……snacks……and of course, beer. Zero doesn’t come in cans, so it was SML for this trip.Our departure was scheduled at 0800 from the Arizona resort……aboard this somewhat sturdy Banca boat. By coincidence or not, it was the same vessel we took last year.There were 22 humans, 3 dogs, and 2 crew onboard. I seem to recall being told capacity was 20, but hell, this is the Philippines, right?The rest of our group.Oh, and there’s me and a new friend. Remember that hat I’m wearing. It had a part to play in the insanity to come. That’s what we call foreshadowing…Our destination was an hour and a half slow boat ride away, around that peninsula way off in the distance…Drawing near to Redondo peninsula…Once around the bend were out of Subic Bay and into the open sea. The South China Sea to be precise.And at last, we were making our way to shore at Sampaloc Cove.Our Banca anchored at our destination. I guess it was the tides this year being higher, but wading ashore the water was up to my neck in places. Made it a pain in the ass to get our shit to the beach.The locals were happy to see us. 100 pesos each to use the beach and 500 pesos to rent a Nipa hut for the day.Preparing the cooking coals…Cooking…There was something fishy going on…A walk on the beach…Sand and rocks…And then nothing but rocks…The water was clean and clear. I even waded out there for a while…Alright, time to get to the rest of the story. Here we have the stars of yesterday’s drama: at the extreme left a bottle of Emperador, the local rum that the natives are crazy about. And it makes them crazy. Apparently.
We had a very pleasant day at the beach. Most of the menfolk were enjoying some beers. And the women kept pouring Emperador shots. I had a couple to be polite, but I know better than to mix my alcohol. I was amazed at the capacity of these Filipinas to drink shot after shot. When they opened the FOURTH bottle, I admit to feeling a little concerned. Resa was doing the pouring and she was relentless.
I’m not exactly sure when things started going wrong, but I noticed Resa was out in the water being assisted, then carried back to shore. They laid her on a bench in the Nipa hut and someone told me she has been upset that she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her. The implication I gathered was that she had either tried to drown herself or was being a drama queen. I was leaning to the latter, although clearly she wasn’t faking being drunk.
I went on about doing my thing and then noticed later that all the women-folk, including Resa, were gone. Apparently they went hiking to some nearby waterfalls. Given the amount of rum they had ingested I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but who am I to say? A while later I see one of the boat crew carrying Resa back to the beach. I guess she never made it to the falls, but most of the other gals did. Anyway, once everyone had returned from the hike it was time to starting loading up and heading home.
Now, I was feeling no pain at this point, but I wasn’t drunk-drunk either. So I was really surprised when Steve fell down on the beach and couldn’t get back up. Hell, it took like three of us to get him back on his feet and help him board the boat. He must have had a lot more shots than I had noticed.
As the boat begins pulling out, Resa makes for the bow and from my perspective, it looked like she was fixing to jump off into the water. Someone grabbed her and pulled her back into the boat, then forced her to sit down on the floor. She struggled mightily to escape, so someone tackled her and held her down. Well, Hana is Resa’s best friend and she went nuts, attacking the person who was holding Resa. I guess Steve said something to Hana (his live-in girlfriend) because she went after him, actually punching him in the face and drawing blood.
While this was going on, Resa made another escape attempt and a female member of the group (a former cop I’m told) pinned her down again. Resa wound up biting her and the cop responded with some blows that also drew blood. They got separated, and Resa wound up sitting down on the floor near me. I put my arms around her, trying to comfort her and calm her down. She continued to struggle some and with my arms otherwise occupied, my hat blew off and into the water. I really liked that hat, had it for years.
Meanwhile, Hana has gone wild throwing shit at those she considered culprits in Resa’s abuse. Some of it went overboard, including that nice grill grate we used to cook my meat on a stick. I was really worried she was going to grab my backpack and throw it in the water. I would have been screwed if she had, it held my wallet and phone. It didn’t come to that, the crewmember not driving had seen enough and he gruffly barked in Tagalog and Hana backed down.
I was still holding Resa, stroking her head and telling her it would all be fine. I guess she didn’t agree because she pinched my finger so hard it broke the skin. I let her go at that point and was thinking “fine bitch, kill yourself if you want. I’m done with this shit”. Resa didn’t jump though, instead, she sat next to Hana and sulked for the remainder of our journey.
Suffice to say, once we docked at Arizona no one left the boat in a happy mood. It was a pretty fucked up way to end an otherwise nice day, that’s for sure.
Without a doubt, it was the most insane time I’ve experienced here in the Philippines. The most surprising thing was seeing how crazy Resa and Hana are. I’ve been acquainted with both for a while and never saw any behavior that would lead me to believe they were psychopaths. But then again, I never saw them drinking Emperador before either. The sad thing is I had been quite attracted to Resa in the past, but our timing was never in sync. And now I’m just thanking the Gods of Love for protecting me. Another reminder of just how bad I am at judging the true nature and character of the human female.
And life goes on!
*I’ve decided to not use actual names in this post. I don’t think anyone local reads my blog, but I don’t want to risk being called to the Barangay office or deported. The libel laws in the Philippines are not foreigner friendly I’m told.
I don’t know, maybe I’m just turning into the stereotypical grumpy old man. Or maybe I’m just at a stage in life where I’m going to do whatever I want and not give a damn what anyone else does. More precisely, I’m going to NOT do what I don’t want to do without apology.
Take yesterday’s Hash for example. The Hare was Vienna Sausage (Günter) so I had every expectation it was going to be a fucked up trail. Günter is all about the steeper and higher the better. I called him out on it once and he responded: “This is nothing like the Alps”. I, therefore, determined going in that I’d decide which part, if any, of his trail I’d hike. To me, if it ain’t fun then what’s the point?
So it turned out being even worse than I feared. He was starting the trail in Olongapo City and taking the “stairway to heaven” to the top of the mountain. That’s 555 stairsteps if you are counting. Okay, I’ve climbed them before and it was miserable. But what I really couldn’t countenance was the long-ass ride out there in the overcrowded Hashmobile. And once you are in Olongapo, there is no shortcut back to our “on-home” at Johan’s on Baloy Beach. So, I just shook my head and said “nope” and went off to do my own trail.
I’ve decided to Hare more frequently, maybe as much as once a month. I figure that way I will at least have the kind of trail that I enjoy more frequently. If the die-hards and masochists don’t like it, too fuckin’ bad. So I have my next trail in mind already and took advantage of my freedom yesterday to do some scouting. I know where I want to go up (yeah, I don’t mind a reasonable climb) but wasn’t sure how to get there. Instead, I went from the back, figuring it would be easier to find a way down. And it worked!
Here’s the view from the top of what will be the main climb on my next trail as Hare. I asked for February 17 but was advised that date has been selected already. By Günter! Ah well. I’ve got March 10.
So, now I’ve got the beginning and middle of my trail pretty much figured out. Need to scout where I’m bringing it down and see how much more distance I may need to add, but I’ve got some ideas for that as well.
Anyway, I got back to our on-home around 5:00 and was really surprised that none of the runners doing the Hare’s trail had arrived yet. That’s pretty unusual, given that it had been an hour and a half since departure. Plus, Hash ethos doesn’t allow anyone to partake in the free beer until the first runner has returned. It was a good 20 more minutes before someone finally made it back. And then I enjoyed my ice-cold Zeros and watched my fellow Hashers straggle in.
By most accounts, the trail was a disaster which made me feel vindicated in my decision not to participate. Some of the guys actually jumped out of the truck on the way because traffic was so heavy. Others who did the stairs had no desire to stay on trail afterward and came back down the mountain into Barretto at the first opportunity. I don’t know if anyone actually did the whole trail, but once again we had people getting back after sundown. That’s a big fail in my book.
We started the circle later than normal because of the late arrivers. And yes, I spent some time on the ice.
Günter asked me later if I had done any of his trail. I told him honestly that while I respect the Hare’s prerogative, I had no desire to take a long truck ride in heavy traffic. I also pointed out that the short days this time of year should be factored into how long the trail is. He looked a little snake bit, so I’m guessing he had gotten similar feedback from others. Anyway, we’ll see if he learned anything come next month I suppose.
I did get a chuckle this morning while walking the dogs. Apparently, Günter had the trail come through my subdivision on the way to Baloy Beach. So, I did a small portion of that monster today!
And that’s how I roll these days. Get off my lawn, whippersnapper!
Or at least the way I saw them yesterday afternoon.
My hike took me out to the valley where I encountered this flowering vine. Turns out it is called “kangkong” and is a vegetable used in some popular Filipino dishes.
From the Wikipedia link, this is an adobo dish made from kangkong.And this is ensaladang. I’ve never personally eaten either of them.Easter mountain as seen from the valley floor I was passing through.These flowering bushes created a canopy over the trail that I found quite pleasing.Back in the neighborhood at the conclusion of my hike, the sunrays seemed to be welcoming me home.I wasn’t home for long though. Took a shower then headed out to the Arizona floating bar to catch the sunset.
I finished the night at Cheap Charlies watching the “two-week millionaires” (aka tourists) ringing the bell repeatedly at P1000 a pop. All the girls get a watered-down shot and the guys get to feel like big shots. More power to them. They appeared to be having fun and if they are buying lady drinks I don’t have to. It creates a different vibe in the bar I suppose, but I’m mostly just there for the beer anyway.
Things can be a little dicey here sometimes. I took this photo before I crossed over the bridge, just in case. It turned out to be sturdier than it appears. Although it is probably lucky I no longer weigh 270 pounds. You can also see the littering issue I sometimes rail about. Folks will literally sweep the dirt in the yard surrounding their shack. And then think nothing of throwing trash into the creek behind their house. All I can do is shake my head and walk on.
I also had some good luck in darts last night. It was an annual tournament played in honor of the now-deceased former owner of Alley Cats. So there was a good turnout, the entry fee was doubled to P200, and the payout was higher. Oh, and they served some snacks. I even practiced for the second day in a row! I guess all that hard work paid off because I drew Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner.
Okay, you could almost hear the groans. Steve is the best player around and my game, such as it is, it also pretty well respected. On some nights I might even be the second-best player in the tourney. So, in a lot of minds, it was a foregone conclusion that Steve and I were going to win even before the first dart was thrown. Except you’ve got to play to find out and there were some other solid teams standing between us and victory.
Here’s the thing, there’s a lot more pressure when you are expected to win. And as Steve noted, everyone in the bar was pulling against us. I get that, no one was rooting for Goliath either. Well, Steve threw his usual solid game and I was typically inconsistent with moments of brilliance, especially hitting the out shots better than usual. But Alan and Rica took us to the third leg in a hard-fought battle before we prevailed. We then met Christie and Jocelyn in the finals and they could have (should have) beat us. Christie was on fire and I’ve never seen Jo throw such strong games. In the end, we came out on top as expected, but it was no walk in the park.
For the first time in years, I felt a competitive passion again. Lately, I’ve been throwing for fun, not giving a shit if I win or lose. Last night I absolutely did not want to get beat. It was a different kind of fun and I liked it.
Back in my previous life, I had started a singles dart league in Seoul and in Columbia. It proved to be quite popular. I’m thinking of doing the league here in Barretto but no longer have any of the files (rules, scoresheets, etc) I used. Emailed an old friend back in Korea and asked if he might still have them. His response: “You got lucky” and sent me a link to dropbox. Heh, let’s see if I’m lucky enough to figure out how to access files from dropbox.
In other news, I see that President Trump regrets his hasty decision to jump into the recent anti-vaping hysteria. Which got me thinking. I haven’t vaped since around Christmas time. I’m pretty much over what had been ailing me and there is really no reason not to resume my habit. Except I don’t think I will. In fact, I put all my vape gear away this morning and decided to move on to the next vice. Whatever that may prove to be. I never thought vaping hurt my lungs, but why push my luck?
Well, more of an acquaintance and a bit of a bitch. That’s right, this morning I found the motivation to hike the length of My Bitch, from Rizal Extension to Alta Vista subdivision. It had been months since I’ve done so, what with being both sick and lazy. It went pretty well, in fact, the path was marked with chalk and powder as it had been incorporated into last week’s Hash trail. The part I missed when I lost the trail. So it was in a sense like closing the loop.
One big change since my last visit was this:
The trail into Alta Vista was blocked by a new house being constructed. The workers helpfully showed me a walk-around route, but I’ll need to scout out a better way to future access this part of My Bitch.
So, I guess I’m getting back to normal in my routines and health. In the realm of the abnormal, I actually practiced darts yesterday afternoon. It was a pretty good workout too. I was anxious to see if it would carry over into last night’s tournament.
Well, I drew Derby, a fellow Hasher and an average caliber darter. Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, drew Alan. Steve is the best expat player in town (there are some Filipinos who play pro-level darts, but they are not welcome in our amateur tourneys). Alan is in the top five, and throws a game similar in quality to me. So from the get-go, I was thinking the best I could hope for was a second-place finish. And that’s how it turned out. Steve and Alan dominated throughout the tourney but we managed to take one leg from them before we were dispatched to the losers bracket. We beat Billie and Gerlie, two strong players, twice. That was pretty much the highlight of the night for us. Steve and Alan kicked our ass with no trouble in the finals. The practice didn’t hurt, but all the practice in the world won’t overcome superior darters.
But at least Alley Cats had stocked up on San Miguel Zero. It was good drinking with my old friend again.
