I hate to sound like a broken record (damn, that reference is old. Who else remembers those scratched LPs that wouldn’t play right?), but it is still raining. I don’t know if it will go on for forty days and nights or not, but we are now more than halfway there. Meanwhile, life goes on. Such as it is.

So, despite the wet weather, we headed out for the Sunday Sweet Street Stroll.

Our Sunday evening routine includes visits to Red Bar and a nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks. Getting there required taking shelter under our umbrellas. Upon arriving at Red Bar, I was surprised when the waitress asked if I wanted to try a new beer: San Miguel Extra Light. Never heard of it, but why not?

Taste-wise, Extra Light lacks the robust flavor Zero had. Then again, it took me a while to develop a taste for Zero. The Extra Light goes down smooth and easy. It reminds me of the Michelob Ultra I used to drink in the States. Back then, people would say, “Drinking Ultra is like making love in a canoe. They are both fucking close to water.” That’s okay with me!

Maybe with some Extra Light as part of my life, I can finally start reducing that beer belly of mine. I’m gonna try REAL hard lifting those 12-ounce weights every night!

When we arrived at Jumpin’ Jacks for our nightcap, the manager and bartender had never heard of Extra Light. I sent them a photo, and the manager promised to try to order some for our next visit. I sent a message to the Hash Beer-Meister, and he is also going to try to find some Extra Light for the Hash Circle. Good times!

I wasn’t up for shooting pool last night, so I had the waitresses play for a 50-peso prize to the winner. And of course, before we departed, I gave the losers a 50-peso consolation prize. Everyone’s a winner when Gwapo comes to town!

Speaking of coming to town, it looks like we have another visitor on the horizon:

From the June 2021 LTG archives, I recount the somewhat sad story of a gal I met while hiking. MJ did bar work as a young woman, married an American bar manager, had his kids, then he abandoned her for another woman. He did at least provide some monthly support for the children he’d left behind. At least until he died. Long story short, I took her on as one of my primary charity projects and continue to supply a monthly stipend so she can feed her half-American kids. No, the husband never bothered to get them citizenship before he passed.

Another thing I’ve noticed as I stroll through the COVID-era archives is that I consistently was calling bullshit on the stupid shit being foisted on us. It is nice to be vindicated all these years later. Here’s an example:

Today’s YouTube video talks about the lack of mass shootings in the Philippines, despite a relatively vibrant gun culture here. I know I feel safer here than I would back in the USA, despite being surrounded by people living in poverty. When I walk through slums on my hikes, I receive warm greetings and smiles, not threats of robbery or violence. Try that in Chicago. The vlogger also mentions murder for hire, which is a real thing and one of the reasons I strive not to piss off the wrong Filipino or cause them to lose face. I’ve heard you can hire a hitman for a couple of hundred bucks. My life is worth more than that, thank you!

Try these on for size:

Another rainy Hash Monday. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, and he sent me the map to his trail that includes going up to the Kalaklan Ridge, then back down into Barretto. I’ve been itching to get back up there and was looking forward to giving the trail a try. Alas, doing that climb in the rain is a no-go for me. Actually, it is the descent on a slippery trail that is even more concerning. It’s been pouring down rain all morning, so I’m sure things are more than a little muddy. Nope, I’ll be keeping it to the streets today.