Pushing With The Ferguson...
10/09/08
Played in a couple tournaments yesterday. One at the
Orleans and one online with Spade Club.
I played at the Orleans 12 pm NLHE tourny for $80.00.
I've cashed at their Sunday tournament, which is basically
the sameformat each day and time (except for Sunday the
buy in is bumped up to $100.00). The format is pretty
good, where youstart off with $4,000.00 in chips, blind
levels for the firsthour are set at 20 minutes each, then
30 minutes thereafter. 45 players total, signed up to
play for this tournament. The players who play in this
game are pretty solid, so most of the time, you don't get
any type of gambo' gambo' shit..
The first couple of levels, I was able to gain about a
50 to60 percent increase in my starting stack. I had
gotten AK diamonds, pocket Aces and pocket Kings in the
first hour,as was paid off preflop and on the flop. I
usually get busted on pocket Aces, so I was happy to take
down a pot with them, lol.
The next couple of levels, were pretty slow. I was
making some "bump" raises from mid to late position with
some marginal hands (Ace/Ten OS a couple of times, suited
King/Jack - cards like that). I got to take the blinds
each time without any confrontations. The table I was at
had pretty solid players, but I kept a watch out for any
funny plays out there. We actually had one weak player,
who eventually busted out when she was at her last blind.
I think that is one of my pet peeves, when someone plays
to their last bet. I mean, it doesn't allow them to give
themselves any fold equity. If they do win a hand, they
need to double up consistently to give them any chance to
win. But what am I to complain, let them do it, it
usually gives me a better chance to move up as well.
Anyway, I got to the final 9 players with about $11,000.00
in chips. Blinds were $500/1000 with a $100 ante. There
was $2,400.00 in the pot before any betting. That's a
good 20% of my own stack preflop. If I was going to
play a pot at this point, I would be for all of it. I
think theonly time I would put in a standard raise would
be when I would have pocket Aces or Kings. But even most
of the time I would have those two hands, I would push all
in at ten bets. You may get a caller and if your big pocket
pair holds up, you have just doubled up to twenty bets (for
a little more breathing room). I would say most of the
time when I have gone that deep in a tourny, the play
usually works.
This time I came upon Ace/Nine Spades, right about in mid
position. I made a decision to push all in. I got folds
behind me. The small blind had looked at his stack and
said all in too. I'm behind, I know it. The big blind
folded. I flip up my cards and the small blind flips up
2 black Queens. Great...need to get lucky. The board
and turn blanked out. I got an unneeded Nine on the river.
Jeez, I'm out. I think it's a decent play, knowing that
my hand should be better than any random hand on the blind
spots. I can also make a case for just calling or
minraising in that spot. If I get raised off my
original bet, I still have an option of folding
preflop.
What do you think?
On a better note, I played online with Spade Club in a
$500.00 pot freeroll. Again, played my usual style and
ended up in 4th place out of 623. I like playing these,
it gives you practice in a fast, large pool tourny
enviroment.
Ooh, I won $50.00 too. How you like that for a $1.00
first time monthly membership investment, lol...
The site is not too bad, the regular membership fee is
$19.99 monthly. It gives you access to qualify in cash
tournaments of $100,000.00 monthly. Have a $5,000.00
freeroll this Sunday, wish me luck....
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Untitled Novel (it's been years since I tried to finish)
Excerpt from an unfinished piece...
Chapter 1
Let me check my missed calls, let's see here. I just
got a text from Jeslyn. what does she want? Dang, 5
missed calls...She is a truly great girl. See, I'm
speaking with the other brain again. Anyway, I always
call back..True sucker. Let me dial the numbers, 5
rings, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10. Why did you even call me,
if you ain't gonna' answer. I really hate that. She
is on that stage where I'll make one phone call attempt
and if you don't answer, "Sorry for ya"...
Back to the grill again. Man, I broke my prior rule,
I'll call Jes back again...one more time...5 rings,
"Hello!", Jes answered. "What up, kid?", I asked saucily...
hehe..."Oh nothing", Jes replied. So I think to myself, why
did this girl try to get a hold of me? I know that she wants
me to probe, ask questions and act concerned. There must be
something going on in her relationship with that haole boy
and needs a shoulder to cry on. I'll humor her. "You don't
sound like you're doing too well, what's the matter?", I
asked. "He's ignoring me", Jes replied. So I think to myself
again, so what does she want me to do, go to her pad and ask
her if she would like to get some of that Brown Sugar again
(again thinking with the other brain, just like a Jedi mind
trick, "Luke I'm your father...."). I asked her, like a chump,
"Is he treating you like the lady you are?", with a half assed
air of concern. Jes said, "Well I'd rather speak to you face
to face about this, or I think I will break down". "What, like
my pop's eight track player in his old Gremlin?", I thought to
myself. "What do you mean, do you want to meet up someplace?",
I asked. "I guess so", Jes said. "Like First Street Billiards,
Starbucks, Pho' Bac, just call it", I said. "No, why don't you
just come here?", she asked. "You sure, is that gonna' be cool?",
I asked warily. "I asked, didn't I?", she inquired (like I was
a runaway slave or something, I swear that she had a horsewhip
up, when she asked me). "I guess that's alright", I replied
halfheartedly (my tail was only halfway up between my legs at
that time). You just don't know, she considered me a "kuya" or
if you don't know the mother tongue - the dreaded "friend".
That would have been cool if I was bakla and was her primetime
shopping partner, but unfortunately I'm heterosexual and she
was damn fine. Just like taking candy away from a baby. Cruel
and unusual punishment. But hey, she cool, it's better to have
a gun and not use it - then to not have a gun and have to need
one. Hmmm, does that make sense?, ehhh, whatever. Anyway, I
slapped the top down on the Wrangler and headed a beeline to
her pad like a fool...I would at least look cool getting there
anyway..hehe..
DING, DONG....I'm waiting...Damn, 5 minutes on this stoop already.
She better be baking cookies or something, maybe frying up some
lumpia....I'm gonna' go back home, so I turned around and walked
back to my Jeep. "Hey you!", Jes replied in that tone of voice -
makes you melt like halo halo in midday traffic in Manila - HOT
BABY! Anyway let me collect myself for a minute. So of course I
put the keys back in my right pocket and turned around. Walked
thru the door, jeez she had the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack
playing on her system. What in the hell. Are we going to dance
around her coffee table now and talk shit about men. If that's
whats goin' on, I'm out, like Audi 5K..."Do you want a beer or
somethin'?", Jes asked. "Right," I replied warily. "Remember
when you first turned 21 and said that you would only drink
Heinekens because you only drank imported beer and then your
heart got broken when they opened up that plant in Sacramento",
Jes said. "What in the hell are you talking about?", I confusedly
asked. "Oh I am just trying to get that sarcastic humor, that
always turned me on about you", Jes replied. Turned me on about
you, what a thing to say to this timebomb of horniness you just
offered alcohol to. Who's the dumb one now?...Oh still me, I
came over here like a chump (just a reminder to me the...idiot...).
Anyway, let me collect myself again. "Hey you gonna tell me what's
up between you and White Boy Roy, or what?", I asked in an assertive
tone. "Don't call Dirk that", Jes said. "For Chrissakes, he's named
after some kind of medieval weapon or torture device that was once
used in the Spanish Inquisition", I replied. She let out a giggle
and stopped herself, she then looked like she was about to burst
into tears.
"I just don't know what to think", Jes said. "Bout what?", I
asked. "The medieval weapon guy", Jes replied. "Heh, Heh,
you're getting humor thing down, I'm gonna' have to book you
at the Improv next week", I said. "I caught the guy cheating",
Jes said somberly. "Are you calling it quits or what?", I asked.
"I don't know what to do", Jes replied. I am really irritated
by that statement. I'm tired of women saying that no man should
ever cheat on them or else. Then when it happens, they feel too
confused to make the obvious decision. Which would be to drop
that man, come to poppi and like LL said, "Back seat of my Jeep"
(I'm an idiot, I know). Alright back to the matter at hand. "Well
have you confronted him with this info?", I asked. "Not yet", Jes
replied. "What, you want me to ask him?", I asked. "No, something
else", Jes said. Jes then sat next to me on the couch and stroked
the back of my head with the back of her index and middle finger
of her right hand (very detailed, huh?). I absoulutely love that
shit, whan a woman caresses you, you know those little physical
things add up to a lot. Alright, she got my right leg quivering
now. Count to ten man, you CAN be STRONG. "You know I have
always had a thing for you", I said. "I know", Jes replied. "So
what do you want from me, is this some kind of booty call?", I
asked sarcastically. She laughed and said, "No, I thought this
is what you wanted". She then gave me one of those looks you
see models do while running down the catwalk. I held my laugh
in.....
Booya....
.....So I picked her up and threw her on the living room futon.
Bam, Bam, Bam (ie, John Witherspoon from "Boomerang", you know -
"you gotta' coordinate...")...In about one hour of off the wall,
well you know - bumpin' da uglies - or should I say doin' the
white man's overbite, it was over and she started to cry.
"Was I that bad?", I asked. Damn that sarcastic humor. She
started to whimper, like she found what she had to say next
to be very difficult. "What did I just do?", Jes asked in a
confused daze. "I thought that this is what you wanted?", I
asked in a negative tone. A long pause, with no answer. I
felt guilty, so I had to leave (what a guy move, huh). I gave
her a kiss on the forehead and dressed. "Where do you think you
are going mister?", Jes asked. "Don't play games with me", I
barked back at her. SLAM, went the door. LATE HOE! (no, I
didn't actually shout it - well, I shouted it in my mind
though...).
What women want these days, I just don't know sometimes...
Chapter 2
I'm 2 minutes in the car and the cell rings up. Guess
who's number it is. Gotta' remember that she is on the "D"
list right now. Don't answer it, I guess (another typical
guy move, anyway - no time for confrontation right now).
God, what is there to do tonight? I'll call up Jojo on the
celly and see what he got going on for tonight. 5 rings, 6,
"Uh, hello", Jojo answered. "You don't sound too sure of
yourself, what's up", I said. "Hey now, is this Scott-AE?",
Jojo asked. "Yeah save that shit for your mom, bitch", I said.
"What do you want asshole?", Jojo asked sarcastically. "Just
wanted to see what you were up to?", I asked. He probably was
going to say, let's go to Orange, the newest pinoy hangout,
well for the time being, you know how trendy us peeps are
sometimes. "Thinking about meeting up with this hapa and going
down to the Orange - she needs to be peeled tonight", Jojo said.
"You're an idiot, anyways, she got any friends that are coming
with?", I asked. "Of course, you know she runs with a crew of
baby yakuza gangsta' bitches", Jojo replied. "Like I said,
you're an idiot - so they bringin' their crew of boyfriends
too?", I asked sarcastically. "No, it ain't like that, I think
that we're going to actually hook up with her friend Cynthia,
then maybe meet up with her other friends at the club, so you
wanna' tag along and be sixth toe?", Jojo asked. "Yeah, why
not?", I replied halfheartedly. "I guess by the tone of your
voice, you gots some Jes issues?", Jojo asked. "Is it that
obvious?", I asked. "You're the idiot sometimes", Jojo said.
"Well said my friend, hurry up let's get drunk - where do you
want to meet?", I asked. "Get to your pad and I'll pick you
up", Jojo said. "Cool, I'll be there in 10 minutes", I said.
Jojo picked me up at the pad and we were on our way to
the hapa's lair. "Dang, where does she live?", I asked
impatiently. You see, we've been on the road for about 35
minutes and Orange is only 7 minutes from my house. "Why
didn't you just ask her to come to your house earlier?", I
asked. "You gotta' treat the keepers right, you know?",
Jojo said. "Well for how long kid", I asked. "Until you
hit that punany, then mission accomplished", Jojo said.
"So I guess you haven't sampled the sashimi yet?", I asked
sarcastically. "Shaddup, you little virgin boy", Jojo
said in his backla' accent. "What's this little japonesa's
name anyway?", I asked. "Lola Takamura, don't you remember
her, she used to be a bank teller at the Well's Fargo on
Mckee", Jojo said. "Oh yeah, that's right, she is a definite
cutie", I said. "You know it baby!", Jojo exclaimed. "So
why is she named after your grandma, heh, heh", I asked
jokingly. "You can suck on the left side of my nutsack, I
just shaved it, better yet - how about a nice teabagging
later?", Jojo asked (he kinda' sounded a bit serious,
ewww....).
Chapter 1
Let me check my missed calls, let's see here. I just
got a text from Jeslyn. what does she want? Dang, 5
missed calls...She is a truly great girl. See, I'm
speaking with the other brain again. Anyway, I always
call back..True sucker. Let me dial the numbers, 5
rings, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10. Why did you even call me,
if you ain't gonna' answer. I really hate that. She
is on that stage where I'll make one phone call attempt
and if you don't answer, "Sorry for ya"...
Back to the grill again. Man, I broke my prior rule,
I'll call Jes back again...one more time...5 rings,
"Hello!", Jes answered. "What up, kid?", I asked saucily...
hehe..."Oh nothing", Jes replied. So I think to myself, why
did this girl try to get a hold of me? I know that she wants
me to probe, ask questions and act concerned. There must be
something going on in her relationship with that haole boy
and needs a shoulder to cry on. I'll humor her. "You don't
sound like you're doing too well, what's the matter?", I
asked. "He's ignoring me", Jes replied. So I think to myself
again, so what does she want me to do, go to her pad and ask
her if she would like to get some of that Brown Sugar again
(again thinking with the other brain, just like a Jedi mind
trick, "Luke I'm your father...."). I asked her, like a chump,
"Is he treating you like the lady you are?", with a half assed
air of concern. Jes said, "Well I'd rather speak to you face
to face about this, or I think I will break down". "What, like
my pop's eight track player in his old Gremlin?", I thought to
myself. "What do you mean, do you want to meet up someplace?",
I asked. "I guess so", Jes said. "Like First Street Billiards,
Starbucks, Pho' Bac, just call it", I said. "No, why don't you
just come here?", she asked. "You sure, is that gonna' be cool?",
I asked warily. "I asked, didn't I?", she inquired (like I was
a runaway slave or something, I swear that she had a horsewhip
up, when she asked me). "I guess that's alright", I replied
halfheartedly (my tail was only halfway up between my legs at
that time). You just don't know, she considered me a "kuya" or
if you don't know the mother tongue - the dreaded "friend".
That would have been cool if I was bakla and was her primetime
shopping partner, but unfortunately I'm heterosexual and she
was damn fine. Just like taking candy away from a baby. Cruel
and unusual punishment. But hey, she cool, it's better to have
a gun and not use it - then to not have a gun and have to need
one. Hmmm, does that make sense?, ehhh, whatever. Anyway, I
slapped the top down on the Wrangler and headed a beeline to
her pad like a fool...I would at least look cool getting there
anyway..hehe..
DING, DONG....I'm waiting...Damn, 5 minutes on this stoop already.
She better be baking cookies or something, maybe frying up some
lumpia....I'm gonna' go back home, so I turned around and walked
back to my Jeep. "Hey you!", Jes replied in that tone of voice -
makes you melt like halo halo in midday traffic in Manila - HOT
BABY! Anyway let me collect myself for a minute. So of course I
put the keys back in my right pocket and turned around. Walked
thru the door, jeez she had the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack
playing on her system. What in the hell. Are we going to dance
around her coffee table now and talk shit about men. If that's
whats goin' on, I'm out, like Audi 5K..."Do you want a beer or
somethin'?", Jes asked. "Right," I replied warily. "Remember
when you first turned 21 and said that you would only drink
Heinekens because you only drank imported beer and then your
heart got broken when they opened up that plant in Sacramento",
Jes said. "What in the hell are you talking about?", I confusedly
asked. "Oh I am just trying to get that sarcastic humor, that
always turned me on about you", Jes replied. Turned me on about
you, what a thing to say to this timebomb of horniness you just
offered alcohol to. Who's the dumb one now?...Oh still me, I
came over here like a chump (just a reminder to me the...idiot...).
Anyway, let me collect myself again. "Hey you gonna tell me what's
up between you and White Boy Roy, or what?", I asked in an assertive
tone. "Don't call Dirk that", Jes said. "For Chrissakes, he's named
after some kind of medieval weapon or torture device that was once
used in the Spanish Inquisition", I replied. She let out a giggle
and stopped herself, she then looked like she was about to burst
into tears.
"I just don't know what to think", Jes said. "Bout what?", I
asked. "The medieval weapon guy", Jes replied. "Heh, Heh,
you're getting humor thing down, I'm gonna' have to book you
at the Improv next week", I said. "I caught the guy cheating",
Jes said somberly. "Are you calling it quits or what?", I asked.
"I don't know what to do", Jes replied. I am really irritated
by that statement. I'm tired of women saying that no man should
ever cheat on them or else. Then when it happens, they feel too
confused to make the obvious decision. Which would be to drop
that man, come to poppi and like LL said, "Back seat of my Jeep"
(I'm an idiot, I know). Alright back to the matter at hand. "Well
have you confronted him with this info?", I asked. "Not yet", Jes
replied. "What, you want me to ask him?", I asked. "No, something
else", Jes said. Jes then sat next to me on the couch and stroked
the back of my head with the back of her index and middle finger
of her right hand (very detailed, huh?). I absoulutely love that
shit, whan a woman caresses you, you know those little physical
things add up to a lot. Alright, she got my right leg quivering
now. Count to ten man, you CAN be STRONG. "You know I have
always had a thing for you", I said. "I know", Jes replied. "So
what do you want from me, is this some kind of booty call?", I
asked sarcastically. She laughed and said, "No, I thought this
is what you wanted". She then gave me one of those looks you
see models do while running down the catwalk. I held my laugh
in.....
Booya....
.....So I picked her up and threw her on the living room futon.
Bam, Bam, Bam (ie, John Witherspoon from "Boomerang", you know -
"you gotta' coordinate...")...In about one hour of off the wall,
well you know - bumpin' da uglies - or should I say doin' the
white man's overbite, it was over and she started to cry.
"Was I that bad?", I asked. Damn that sarcastic humor. She
started to whimper, like she found what she had to say next
to be very difficult. "What did I just do?", Jes asked in a
confused daze. "I thought that this is what you wanted?", I
asked in a negative tone. A long pause, with no answer. I
felt guilty, so I had to leave (what a guy move, huh). I gave
her a kiss on the forehead and dressed. "Where do you think you
are going mister?", Jes asked. "Don't play games with me", I
barked back at her. SLAM, went the door. LATE HOE! (no, I
didn't actually shout it - well, I shouted it in my mind
though...).
What women want these days, I just don't know sometimes...
Chapter 2
I'm 2 minutes in the car and the cell rings up. Guess
who's number it is. Gotta' remember that she is on the "D"
list right now. Don't answer it, I guess (another typical
guy move, anyway - no time for confrontation right now).
God, what is there to do tonight? I'll call up Jojo on the
celly and see what he got going on for tonight. 5 rings, 6,
"Uh, hello", Jojo answered. "You don't sound too sure of
yourself, what's up", I said. "Hey now, is this Scott-AE?",
Jojo asked. "Yeah save that shit for your mom, bitch", I said.
"What do you want asshole?", Jojo asked sarcastically. "Just
wanted to see what you were up to?", I asked. He probably was
going to say, let's go to Orange, the newest pinoy hangout,
well for the time being, you know how trendy us peeps are
sometimes. "Thinking about meeting up with this hapa and going
down to the Orange - she needs to be peeled tonight", Jojo said.
"You're an idiot, anyways, she got any friends that are coming
with?", I asked. "Of course, you know she runs with a crew of
baby yakuza gangsta' bitches", Jojo replied. "Like I said,
you're an idiot - so they bringin' their crew of boyfriends
too?", I asked sarcastically. "No, it ain't like that, I think
that we're going to actually hook up with her friend Cynthia,
then maybe meet up with her other friends at the club, so you
wanna' tag along and be sixth toe?", Jojo asked. "Yeah, why
not?", I replied halfheartedly. "I guess by the tone of your
voice, you gots some Jes issues?", Jojo asked. "Is it that
obvious?", I asked. "You're the idiot sometimes", Jojo said.
"Well said my friend, hurry up let's get drunk - where do you
want to meet?", I asked. "Get to your pad and I'll pick you
up", Jojo said. "Cool, I'll be there in 10 minutes", I said.
Jojo picked me up at the pad and we were on our way to
the hapa's lair. "Dang, where does she live?", I asked
impatiently. You see, we've been on the road for about 35
minutes and Orange is only 7 minutes from my house. "Why
didn't you just ask her to come to your house earlier?", I
asked. "You gotta' treat the keepers right, you know?",
Jojo said. "Well for how long kid", I asked. "Until you
hit that punany, then mission accomplished", Jojo said.
"So I guess you haven't sampled the sashimi yet?", I asked
sarcastically. "Shaddup, you little virgin boy", Jojo
said in his backla' accent. "What's this little japonesa's
name anyway?", I asked. "Lola Takamura, don't you remember
her, she used to be a bank teller at the Well's Fargo on
Mckee", Jojo said. "Oh yeah, that's right, she is a definite
cutie", I said. "You know it baby!", Jojo exclaimed. "So
why is she named after your grandma, heh, heh", I asked
jokingly. "You can suck on the left side of my nutsack, I
just shaved it, better yet - how about a nice teabagging
later?", Jojo asked (he kinda' sounded a bit serious,
ewww....).
Untitled Script WW2, Pacific Theater...
Untitled Script WW2, Pacific Theater
PROLOGUE:
I wondered what happened to my forgotten people
of the southernmost island of Spain during the years of World
War 2. I always think back to my days in college when I was
speaking to this girl from Placerville, Ca. who didnt know
what a Filipino, or rather a Pinoy was. My answer verbatim
was, Well, us Filipinos had helped save your great american
General Macarthur's ass in the Pacific about 50 years ago,
the motherfucka probably tried to hit on one of my lolas back
in the day. A bit sarcastic, but I thought it got my point
across. Even this girl, in those history books they gave
her in grade school, probably had only one mention of the
islands as a place where some crazy battles took place between
the USA and Japan. Then I have memories of myself as a child
thinking that I was not perfect or so to say, a true American.
Was it because I did not have blue eyes or blond and wavy hair?
Why did I have dark eyes and long thick black hair? My physical
image was unlike the images that I saw on television or on the
movies that I enjoyed watching so much. Why did the universe
have to get saved by a lone blonde kid in an X-Wing fighter,
defeating an army led by a leader swathed in dark armor? Why
couldnt have been the furry tall dude, the one I would identify
with the most because of his brown color and his sudden yowling,
which reminded my of how my lolo would wake up in the morning
(sorry for the sarcasm again, but you get it, right?). Some
of the blame has to lay on me as well. When I was growing up,
I never had questioned who I was or where I came from. All I
knew was that I was an American, eat burgers, salute the flag
on the 4th of July and watch the Superfriends on Saturday mornings.
Dang, there was even a black Superfriend (Im gonna create a new
Pinoy superhero that uses deadly yoyos, how you like them apples?
The new EX-Man..hehehe). How does a child lose his identity,
before learning it?
Well, when you grow up in a land that has forgotten you in
its history books, media and through all outlets the typical
child receives when growing up, that's probably why. It seems
that the Filipino people seem to be a footnote to American
History. I find that interesting, in the fact that the
Filipino and American peoples life stories are much intertwined,
albeit a new one compared to the history of the world, but
one that is over 100 years old, nonetheless. From the Spanish
American War, to the manongs that immigrated to the States as
migrant workers in the early part of the century, WW2 and the
great migrations through the late 1960s/1970s, Pinoys are a
part of US history.
I'm not going to mention the other nations or peoples that
had colonized the Philippines before the USA, especially the
Spanish. All of these cultures have had such profound
influences in the motherland. Lumpia is a derivative of the
Chinese eggroll. As you see, my last name is Spanish, nuff said.
The Philippines as a foreign nation, is the 3rd largest country
that uses English as a second language. I call that a really
profound influence. When I've traveled to the Philippines, it
seems that a lot a people that I meet, want to immigrate to the
States. Why? Whats the big fuss about? You want to go to a
land where the majority of the people will make pun ob ur accent?
You got the USA over here in the PI - KFCs, McDonalds, Levis and
Apple Pie, er make that Mango Pie (it tastes better anyways).
Also, graft, corruption and scandals abound in the PI you would
be too bored to come to the States and just hear that Clinton
just plugged another intern news in the USA would be just too
tame for you. The nightly news would not compare to TV Patrol
they just dont show dead bodies being pulled out of wrecks,
nor the newest rape suspect on live television news. I guess
Filipinos equate success and richness with the USA. People
are amazed that I would even think of moving to the PI from
the States. Its true, Ive entertained the thought. I could
go without the convenience of going to the local 7/11 and
picking up a hot dog for a buck, but hey they got Selects with
fresh and piping hot siopao that aint no sacrifice for me.
Economically, not for now cant make it on a writers buck in
Manila I guess thats the Stateside imperialism in me (damn,
I'm too Americanized). I think Ive just found a comfort zone
there, where everybody kinda looks like me. I dont feel too
short no not a Napoleon complex, alright? Anyway, the
Philippines is a great country, it just needs to grasp its
own identity.
Anyway, enough of the ranting on with the story...
CHAPTER 1 WHEN THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN
..How I want to be in that number..God, my feet hurt. Just
singing that song in my head is keeping me sane and alert in
the hot morning sun. The heat in the summer months can be
just unbearable. How I forgot that after moving to California
as a young infant, that I would end up back in the jungles of
the PI. All I see is the back of another GIs sweaty nape.
I cant dare turn to face my captors again. I dont as hell
miss that bamboo cane rap against the back of my calves one
more time. If I get in another scuffle with one of those Jap
wannabee officers again, I dont think I will survive. How I
miss running down the windy coastline of Monterey outside the
barracks of my fathers installation. It was so free and cool.
Okay, concentrate keep in line, maybe you can survive this
It's May 10, I think its been 4 days since the fall of Corregidor.
I'm looking at the shifts of the moon and stars as my calendar
now. One of the enemy soldiers took my Timex as some kind of
souvenir. I guess they like to take our personal possessions
to make us feel less than them, maybe some kind of mental
warfare thing they learn in Osaka or Tokyo, before raising
shit in some foreign land. I need to rest for a little while
and conserve some energy. Marching in place is about the only
exercise theyll let us do; I dont want to get too complacent
they probably want to weaken us, so they wont have to worry
about an uprising later on. I heard that a couple weeks back,
they marched a bunch of us to Camp ODonnell, where not too
many survived. That wont be me. I didnt volunteer to go
back home for nothing.
Pfc Cabat, how you holding up?. Good Sir, and you?. Fine,
just keep your chin up, Macarthur will be back. Oh, yeah?,
kinda said it in a sarcastic tone. Well, what else you gonna
hope for, its early in the war, even your vernerable President
Quezon left with himjust trying not too move too much and stay
cool for now, whaddaya think the japs will do with us next?.
Shhh, a couple of their officers are heading toward our group.
That was Gunnery Sgt. Wills Mand from California too, that made
us kinda close. The guys been a war honky for years, I think
he served in Tripoli, before the US occupied the PI. Just
kidding, he just seems older than dust from all his experience,
which is a good thing.
Look at us, tired, thirsty and hungry. Dont our captors know
we are not animals. War is hell, even when there is no fight.
I guess freedom does have a price sometimes. To eventually
get it, there have to be sacrifices. I guess I didnt think
I would be the one to experience it firsthand. Damn, why
did I volunteer for this? Shoulda continued my studies at
Berkeley. It aint common for a brown kid from a shit town
like Watsonville, gets a fellowship for Anthropology at a
top U.C. Oh, I mean it isnt common. Dang, I must be going
loony, Im trying to crack sarcastic jokes to my feeble self,
Dad was always right. Dont pick the PI son, all the whites
will treat you like you were their houseboy and the pinoys
there are gonna treat you like some rich uncle drainin your
wallet. Youre an oxymoron to both cultures, too dark to blend
in with your American peers and too Americanized to relate to
your people. Shit, I dont care about that now its them slant
eye gooks that that think Im a piece of cattle or shark chum
these days.
Well, well how are our guests doing?, asked Capt. Hosan Fujiyama
asked me. That fucker was so arrogant. He was the commanding
officer of our camp. He always had that certain air about him.
Funny, he was probably one of the few people that I could
actually relate to in this camp. You see, he grew up most of
his life in Southern California. His parents migrated from
Japan to Hawaii in the early 1900s. Then when the pineapples
got dry in Oahu, they moved to Bakersfield and became migrant
workers there. The damn Jap graduated from UCLA with honors
in English. After college, he left for Japan to get out of the
States. Kinda like me, he had a yearnin for the homeland. I
think he felt that he had to be really cruel and hard on us to
prove to his superiors that he wasnt going to be a traitor to
the Emperor. I answered him first, Just fine sir. Are you
ready for your chores today?, he asked, as if we were his
little children, JeezWe have many of your brothers to bury
today, I need you to make sure they rest in honor at least
they had purpose, to die fighting with respect, not like you
all who waste your useless lives to live another day of the
same, Capt. Fujiyama said. Real motivating. Anyway, get on
your feet and follow Sgt. Tanaka, Capt. Fujiyama ordered.
Sgt. Tanaka got a group of 20 on our side of the barracks and
marched us to the southside of the campgrounds. I hated the
southside. The dead were usually baking out in the hot sun
for a few days, so they were usually bloated and blistered
from the boiling of the stagnant fluids inside there bodies.
Oh, I forgot to mention the smell. Just think of the nastiest
thing your have ever smelled and vomited from that wasnt
anything compared to this, if you know what I mean. A rumor
was that the japs left the bodies to ferment for a while as
some kind proganda thing to show the surviving pows left in
the camp. The smell of it was enough. The wind from the
South China Seas The japs were lucky, they lived just north
of the area on high ground and probably never noticed the
damn shit. would always bring a reminder over the camp.
As we neared the pile of rotting bodies, Sgt. Tanaka and his
men threw us a bunch of trench shovels and ordered us to start
digging. Damn, its gonna take us forever to dig up ground to
bury our men. These japs want to slowly kill us. Why don't
they just put a bullet through each of our noggins and quit
wasting time. I cant think like that, I think hope is all
that can keep me living.
Our group of 20 were just a bunch of withered nothings. I don't
think we had the full strength of 4 or 5 men. These japs just
feed us a half of cup of rice a day, if were lucky. Even if
we try to forage around the camp for food, they deny that to
us too. I remember when J.T., found a couple of coconuts that
that rolled in from the trees just outside the perimeter.
One of the gook officers shot the kid in the leg. With no
proper medical attention, J.T. got gangrene within the week.
I guess Sgt. Tanaka had some sympathy for the guy and handed
Corpsman Anders a machete to chop off J.T.s right leg to prevent
the infection from spreading. With one swift swing the leg came
right off but it was for nothing. J.T. screamed out, once the
machete went though his knee and then laid still. That was
probably his last breath.
I look at the bodies and feel that they are the lucky ones.
They dont have to deal with these fuckers anymore. But, like
I said, I cant lose hope of getting out of this place and giving
back to the japs what they deserve. Its hard burying your
brothers everyday. Only four days in this camp and we have
thirty from our unit alone, dead.
PROLOGUE:
I wondered what happened to my forgotten people
of the southernmost island of Spain during the years of World
War 2. I always think back to my days in college when I was
speaking to this girl from Placerville, Ca. who didnt know
what a Filipino, or rather a Pinoy was. My answer verbatim
was, Well, us Filipinos had helped save your great american
General Macarthur's ass in the Pacific about 50 years ago,
the motherfucka probably tried to hit on one of my lolas back
in the day. A bit sarcastic, but I thought it got my point
across. Even this girl, in those history books they gave
her in grade school, probably had only one mention of the
islands as a place where some crazy battles took place between
the USA and Japan. Then I have memories of myself as a child
thinking that I was not perfect or so to say, a true American.
Was it because I did not have blue eyes or blond and wavy hair?
Why did I have dark eyes and long thick black hair? My physical
image was unlike the images that I saw on television or on the
movies that I enjoyed watching so much. Why did the universe
have to get saved by a lone blonde kid in an X-Wing fighter,
defeating an army led by a leader swathed in dark armor? Why
couldnt have been the furry tall dude, the one I would identify
with the most because of his brown color and his sudden yowling,
which reminded my of how my lolo would wake up in the morning
(sorry for the sarcasm again, but you get it, right?). Some
of the blame has to lay on me as well. When I was growing up,
I never had questioned who I was or where I came from. All I
knew was that I was an American, eat burgers, salute the flag
on the 4th of July and watch the Superfriends on Saturday mornings.
Dang, there was even a black Superfriend (Im gonna create a new
Pinoy superhero that uses deadly yoyos, how you like them apples?
The new EX-Man..hehehe). How does a child lose his identity,
before learning it?
Well, when you grow up in a land that has forgotten you in
its history books, media and through all outlets the typical
child receives when growing up, that's probably why. It seems
that the Filipino people seem to be a footnote to American
History. I find that interesting, in the fact that the
Filipino and American peoples life stories are much intertwined,
albeit a new one compared to the history of the world, but
one that is over 100 years old, nonetheless. From the Spanish
American War, to the manongs that immigrated to the States as
migrant workers in the early part of the century, WW2 and the
great migrations through the late 1960s/1970s, Pinoys are a
part of US history.
I'm not going to mention the other nations or peoples that
had colonized the Philippines before the USA, especially the
Spanish. All of these cultures have had such profound
influences in the motherland. Lumpia is a derivative of the
Chinese eggroll. As you see, my last name is Spanish, nuff said.
The Philippines as a foreign nation, is the 3rd largest country
that uses English as a second language. I call that a really
profound influence. When I've traveled to the Philippines, it
seems that a lot a people that I meet, want to immigrate to the
States. Why? Whats the big fuss about? You want to go to a
land where the majority of the people will make pun ob ur accent?
You got the USA over here in the PI - KFCs, McDonalds, Levis and
Apple Pie, er make that Mango Pie (it tastes better anyways).
Also, graft, corruption and scandals abound in the PI you would
be too bored to come to the States and just hear that Clinton
just plugged another intern news in the USA would be just too
tame for you. The nightly news would not compare to TV Patrol
they just dont show dead bodies being pulled out of wrecks,
nor the newest rape suspect on live television news. I guess
Filipinos equate success and richness with the USA. People
are amazed that I would even think of moving to the PI from
the States. Its true, Ive entertained the thought. I could
go without the convenience of going to the local 7/11 and
picking up a hot dog for a buck, but hey they got Selects with
fresh and piping hot siopao that aint no sacrifice for me.
Economically, not for now cant make it on a writers buck in
Manila I guess thats the Stateside imperialism in me (damn,
I'm too Americanized). I think Ive just found a comfort zone
there, where everybody kinda looks like me. I dont feel too
short no not a Napoleon complex, alright? Anyway, the
Philippines is a great country, it just needs to grasp its
own identity.
Anyway, enough of the ranting on with the story...
CHAPTER 1 WHEN THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN
..How I want to be in that number..God, my feet hurt. Just
singing that song in my head is keeping me sane and alert in
the hot morning sun. The heat in the summer months can be
just unbearable. How I forgot that after moving to California
as a young infant, that I would end up back in the jungles of
the PI. All I see is the back of another GIs sweaty nape.
I cant dare turn to face my captors again. I dont as hell
miss that bamboo cane rap against the back of my calves one
more time. If I get in another scuffle with one of those Jap
wannabee officers again, I dont think I will survive. How I
miss running down the windy coastline of Monterey outside the
barracks of my fathers installation. It was so free and cool.
Okay, concentrate keep in line, maybe you can survive this
It's May 10, I think its been 4 days since the fall of Corregidor.
I'm looking at the shifts of the moon and stars as my calendar
now. One of the enemy soldiers took my Timex as some kind of
souvenir. I guess they like to take our personal possessions
to make us feel less than them, maybe some kind of mental
warfare thing they learn in Osaka or Tokyo, before raising
shit in some foreign land. I need to rest for a little while
and conserve some energy. Marching in place is about the only
exercise theyll let us do; I dont want to get too complacent
they probably want to weaken us, so they wont have to worry
about an uprising later on. I heard that a couple weeks back,
they marched a bunch of us to Camp ODonnell, where not too
many survived. That wont be me. I didnt volunteer to go
back home for nothing.
Pfc Cabat, how you holding up?. Good Sir, and you?. Fine,
just keep your chin up, Macarthur will be back. Oh, yeah?,
kinda said it in a sarcastic tone. Well, what else you gonna
hope for, its early in the war, even your vernerable President
Quezon left with himjust trying not too move too much and stay
cool for now, whaddaya think the japs will do with us next?.
Shhh, a couple of their officers are heading toward our group.
That was Gunnery Sgt. Wills Mand from California too, that made
us kinda close. The guys been a war honky for years, I think
he served in Tripoli, before the US occupied the PI. Just
kidding, he just seems older than dust from all his experience,
which is a good thing.
Look at us, tired, thirsty and hungry. Dont our captors know
we are not animals. War is hell, even when there is no fight.
I guess freedom does have a price sometimes. To eventually
get it, there have to be sacrifices. I guess I didnt think
I would be the one to experience it firsthand. Damn, why
did I volunteer for this? Shoulda continued my studies at
Berkeley. It aint common for a brown kid from a shit town
like Watsonville, gets a fellowship for Anthropology at a
top U.C. Oh, I mean it isnt common. Dang, I must be going
loony, Im trying to crack sarcastic jokes to my feeble self,
Dad was always right. Dont pick the PI son, all the whites
will treat you like you were their houseboy and the pinoys
there are gonna treat you like some rich uncle drainin your
wallet. Youre an oxymoron to both cultures, too dark to blend
in with your American peers and too Americanized to relate to
your people. Shit, I dont care about that now its them slant
eye gooks that that think Im a piece of cattle or shark chum
these days.
Well, well how are our guests doing?, asked Capt. Hosan Fujiyama
asked me. That fucker was so arrogant. He was the commanding
officer of our camp. He always had that certain air about him.
Funny, he was probably one of the few people that I could
actually relate to in this camp. You see, he grew up most of
his life in Southern California. His parents migrated from
Japan to Hawaii in the early 1900s. Then when the pineapples
got dry in Oahu, they moved to Bakersfield and became migrant
workers there. The damn Jap graduated from UCLA with honors
in English. After college, he left for Japan to get out of the
States. Kinda like me, he had a yearnin for the homeland. I
think he felt that he had to be really cruel and hard on us to
prove to his superiors that he wasnt going to be a traitor to
the Emperor. I answered him first, Just fine sir. Are you
ready for your chores today?, he asked, as if we were his
little children, JeezWe have many of your brothers to bury
today, I need you to make sure they rest in honor at least
they had purpose, to die fighting with respect, not like you
all who waste your useless lives to live another day of the
same, Capt. Fujiyama said. Real motivating. Anyway, get on
your feet and follow Sgt. Tanaka, Capt. Fujiyama ordered.
Sgt. Tanaka got a group of 20 on our side of the barracks and
marched us to the southside of the campgrounds. I hated the
southside. The dead were usually baking out in the hot sun
for a few days, so they were usually bloated and blistered
from the boiling of the stagnant fluids inside there bodies.
Oh, I forgot to mention the smell. Just think of the nastiest
thing your have ever smelled and vomited from that wasnt
anything compared to this, if you know what I mean. A rumor
was that the japs left the bodies to ferment for a while as
some kind proganda thing to show the surviving pows left in
the camp. The smell of it was enough. The wind from the
South China Seas The japs were lucky, they lived just north
of the area on high ground and probably never noticed the
damn shit. would always bring a reminder over the camp.
As we neared the pile of rotting bodies, Sgt. Tanaka and his
men threw us a bunch of trench shovels and ordered us to start
digging. Damn, its gonna take us forever to dig up ground to
bury our men. These japs want to slowly kill us. Why don't
they just put a bullet through each of our noggins and quit
wasting time. I cant think like that, I think hope is all
that can keep me living.
Our group of 20 were just a bunch of withered nothings. I don't
think we had the full strength of 4 or 5 men. These japs just
feed us a half of cup of rice a day, if were lucky. Even if
we try to forage around the camp for food, they deny that to
us too. I remember when J.T., found a couple of coconuts that
that rolled in from the trees just outside the perimeter.
One of the gook officers shot the kid in the leg. With no
proper medical attention, J.T. got gangrene within the week.
I guess Sgt. Tanaka had some sympathy for the guy and handed
Corpsman Anders a machete to chop off J.T.s right leg to prevent
the infection from spreading. With one swift swing the leg came
right off but it was for nothing. J.T. screamed out, once the
machete went though his knee and then laid still. That was
probably his last breath.
I look at the bodies and feel that they are the lucky ones.
They dont have to deal with these fuckers anymore. But, like
I said, I cant lose hope of getting out of this place and giving
back to the japs what they deserve. Its hard burying your
brothers everyday. Only four days in this camp and we have
thirty from our unit alone, dead.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Riders On The Storm...
9/29/08
Riders On The Storm...
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
by The Doors...
Don't know why I quoted the lyrics from the Doors, maybe I was
channeling Jim Morrison on my drive to and back to New Mexico,
getting there last Thursday and arriving back in Vegas, last
Sunday. I think the song was inspired by an incident Jim
Morrison experienced when he was living in New Mexico as a
kid. I think he witnessed a car accident driving with his
parents outside of Albuquerque, NM. Anyway, let me digress...
Like I said before I drove to Albuquerque last week to meet
up with my GF. She flew into New Mexico for an job interview
she had with a company known for their "Angels". She still
lives in San Jose, but purchased a home in Albie earlier
this year.
Flights were kind of expensive short notice, so
I thought to myself, why not try driving out there. It would
give me a chance to see a part of America that I have not
driven through before. I also thought it would be a good
way to clear up things and analyze my "career as a poker
player" in my head. You can accomplish a lot of "soul
searching "when confined to your own thoughts". I make it
sound more serious than that it should be. It really isn't
that complicated. It gave me a chance to look at certain
hands that I have played on a "step by step" basis.
I won't reveal any new strategies or plays that I thought
over during the drive (for fear of it being used against
me, lol)...
I can say what of my shortcomings are at times, is playing
too cautious, when warranted aggressiveness will be the
key in winning pots. I guess the line from the movie
Rounders rings true, "You can't lose what you don't put
in the middle, but you can't win much either". I know
it's a process, but I feel that some of the people from
back home feel that I should be winning all kinds of
money out here or something. I've always been a winner
at the game, so I feel why should I change my style.
I've been winning essentially since I've been in
Vegas, but not to the effect where "retirement" will
come soon, hehe. There have been ups and downs, but
in Vegas and in Life I've never been "felted" (meaning
that you've lost all your chips, so you're down to the
"felt") - but have "felted" other players, hehe...
As I say, it's a process and should always utilize my
most prized skill "patience"...
Anyways, let me get back to the roadtrip. The drive
to Albuquerque is more or less 8 hours from Vegas.
I got a PT Cruiser from Thrifty Car Rentals near
McCarran International Airport in the city. I really
hate certain rental car agents. The rate for the
car was pretty cheap, just under a hundred bucks
from Thursday to Monday morning. The rental agent
asked me if I wanted to get the "extra insurance",
which would have added $22.00 more bucks a day to the
rental car. He tried to put the scare in me by saying
that if I didn't opt for the extra insurance that "I
would totally be responsible for any damages to the
rental vehicle". I told him that I used to work for
an auto insurance company and that my own auto insurance
would (AIG now, shit maybe not with all the stuff they
been thru the last couple of weeks, hehe..) provide
coverage for the rental vehicle as an additionally
insured automobile. He still says that I should take
the extra insurance, due to the fact that I worked
for an auto insurance company. Jeez, I said no
already! Plus my credit card would also provide
rental insurance coverage as well. Give me my keys
already! I agreed for the fuel charge though, at
$3.45 per gallon, as I knew that I was going use all
of the gas. All in all about at buck fifty for the
rental, not bad for all the saved up mileage/wear/tear
I would save Ms. Taylor (my Jeep Cherokee, if you have
been reading my earlier posts).
The drive all the way to Albuquerque was all good,
knowing at the end of the rainbow I would find my pot
of gold, meaning that I would be able to spend some
time with my GF. I haven't seen her for a couple of
weeks, since the time I was out there during Labor
Day week (like I have a real job). I didn't want to
make any unneeded stops, as I was going to drive back
Sunday, where I could make stops on a whim, as I didn't
need to return the car until Monday morning.
I left about 1000 am that day and made it to Albie, at
about 730 pm (Mountain time, I lost an hour due to the
time change). Kinda' weird not having to talk to anyone
in person for about 8 hours - but like I said, I wanted
to have some time to think to myself. My biggest worry
driving, would be getting stuck on the road where there
were no cell sites to get a signal for my phone (then I
would be totally cut off from the world). I think I'm
going to get a handheld CB radio, so when Armageddon comes,
I will be able to get helicoptered out of Hell.
I got to her house and we sat down for dinner. Thin Crust
Pepperoni Pizza, the bestest sometimes. She also baked
some Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cookies. I've never had
them before - they were real good. We basically chilled
that night at home as she had a morning interview the next
day.
Friday and Saturday was mostly shopping for the house and
more chilling at the home, which is good. Nothing like
relaxing at home, with the next greatest invention in
the world, RedBox DVD's - a buck a night, you can't beat
it. Yes, I actually enjoyed watching Made of Honor and
Sex in the City - do they make Manolo's for men?
Gay, huh?
Sunday, I took her to the airport for her early flight.
That sucked and I still had a long drive back to Vegas.
I made it to Hoover Dam in about 7 hours. That was pretty
good time, since I had taken three "number 2" breaks and
a half hour lunch/rest break, just past Flagstaff AZ.
I decided to be a tourist and snap a few photos at the
dam. I've never been there before, even though it's
only about 40 minutes from the Strip. I'll have to go
back again with the GF or friends when they come into
town. I'm curious to check out the museum and see where
you can go to do some jet skiing...
After staying there for about 15 minutes, I decided to
head back into the city.
Dropped off the rental at Thrifty's and headed back
home with a ride from a buddy of mine. It feels good
and bad to be back in Sin City.
Riders On The Storm...
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
by The Doors...
Don't know why I quoted the lyrics from the Doors, maybe I was
channeling Jim Morrison on my drive to and back to New Mexico,
getting there last Thursday and arriving back in Vegas, last
Sunday. I think the song was inspired by an incident Jim
Morrison experienced when he was living in New Mexico as a
kid. I think he witnessed a car accident driving with his
parents outside of Albuquerque, NM. Anyway, let me digress...
Like I said before I drove to Albuquerque last week to meet
up with my GF. She flew into New Mexico for an job interview
she had with a company known for their "Angels". She still
lives in San Jose, but purchased a home in Albie earlier
this year.
Flights were kind of expensive short notice, so
I thought to myself, why not try driving out there. It would
give me a chance to see a part of America that I have not
driven through before. I also thought it would be a good
way to clear up things and analyze my "career as a poker
player" in my head. You can accomplish a lot of "soul
searching "when confined to your own thoughts". I make it
sound more serious than that it should be. It really isn't
that complicated. It gave me a chance to look at certain
hands that I have played on a "step by step" basis.
I won't reveal any new strategies or plays that I thought
over during the drive (for fear of it being used against
me, lol)...
I can say what of my shortcomings are at times, is playing
too cautious, when warranted aggressiveness will be the
key in winning pots. I guess the line from the movie
Rounders rings true, "You can't lose what you don't put
in the middle, but you can't win much either". I know
it's a process, but I feel that some of the people from
back home feel that I should be winning all kinds of
money out here or something. I've always been a winner
at the game, so I feel why should I change my style.
I've been winning essentially since I've been in
Vegas, but not to the effect where "retirement" will
come soon, hehe. There have been ups and downs, but
in Vegas and in Life I've never been "felted" (meaning
that you've lost all your chips, so you're down to the
"felt") - but have "felted" other players, hehe...
As I say, it's a process and should always utilize my
most prized skill "patience"...
Anyways, let me get back to the roadtrip. The drive
to Albuquerque is more or less 8 hours from Vegas.
I got a PT Cruiser from Thrifty Car Rentals near
McCarran International Airport in the city. I really
hate certain rental car agents. The rate for the
car was pretty cheap, just under a hundred bucks
from Thursday to Monday morning. The rental agent
asked me if I wanted to get the "extra insurance",
which would have added $22.00 more bucks a day to the
rental car. He tried to put the scare in me by saying
that if I didn't opt for the extra insurance that "I
would totally be responsible for any damages to the
rental vehicle". I told him that I used to work for
an auto insurance company and that my own auto insurance
would (AIG now, shit maybe not with all the stuff they
been thru the last couple of weeks, hehe..) provide
coverage for the rental vehicle as an additionally
insured automobile. He still says that I should take
the extra insurance, due to the fact that I worked
for an auto insurance company. Jeez, I said no
already! Plus my credit card would also provide
rental insurance coverage as well. Give me my keys
already! I agreed for the fuel charge though, at
$3.45 per gallon, as I knew that I was going use all
of the gas. All in all about at buck fifty for the
rental, not bad for all the saved up mileage/wear/tear
I would save Ms. Taylor (my Jeep Cherokee, if you have
been reading my earlier posts).
The drive all the way to Albuquerque was all good,
knowing at the end of the rainbow I would find my pot
of gold, meaning that I would be able to spend some
time with my GF. I haven't seen her for a couple of
weeks, since the time I was out there during Labor
Day week (like I have a real job). I didn't want to
make any unneeded stops, as I was going to drive back
Sunday, where I could make stops on a whim, as I didn't
need to return the car until Monday morning.
I left about 1000 am that day and made it to Albie, at
about 730 pm (Mountain time, I lost an hour due to the
time change). Kinda' weird not having to talk to anyone
in person for about 8 hours - but like I said, I wanted
to have some time to think to myself. My biggest worry
driving, would be getting stuck on the road where there
were no cell sites to get a signal for my phone (then I
would be totally cut off from the world). I think I'm
going to get a handheld CB radio, so when Armageddon comes,
I will be able to get helicoptered out of Hell.
I got to her house and we sat down for dinner. Thin Crust
Pepperoni Pizza, the bestest sometimes. She also baked
some Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cookies. I've never had
them before - they were real good. We basically chilled
that night at home as she had a morning interview the next
day.
Friday and Saturday was mostly shopping for the house and
more chilling at the home, which is good. Nothing like
relaxing at home, with the next greatest invention in
the world, RedBox DVD's - a buck a night, you can't beat
it. Yes, I actually enjoyed watching Made of Honor and
Sex in the City - do they make Manolo's for men?
Gay, huh?
Sunday, I took her to the airport for her early flight.
That sucked and I still had a long drive back to Vegas.
I made it to Hoover Dam in about 7 hours. That was pretty
good time, since I had taken three "number 2" breaks and
a half hour lunch/rest break, just past Flagstaff AZ.
I decided to be a tourist and snap a few photos at the
dam. I've never been there before, even though it's
only about 40 minutes from the Strip. I'll have to go
back again with the GF or friends when they come into
town. I'm curious to check out the museum and see where
you can go to do some jet skiing...
After staying there for about 15 minutes, I decided to
head back into the city.
Dropped off the rental at Thrifty's and headed back
home with a ride from a buddy of mine. It feels good
and bad to be back in Sin City.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Trail Rated...
9/22/08
Trail Rated…
I am here at 4 Wheel Parts, in Henderson NV. I had the
Cherokee lifted 2 inches, side steps installed and a tow
hitch receiver put in the rear. I think the only other
things I would do to it would get black rims, slightly
bigger tires and a safari rack. I’m on the way to completing
the adventure vehicle. It’s a far cry from the suv of my
dreams, the MBZ G500 or a Land Rover Discovery 110 (the
four door, you probably seen them on TV on a safari show,
like Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom or something). Trust
me, I love the Jeep, I’ve only owned Jeeps or VW’s all my
life. I guess I like certain niche cars, not the typical
drivers that my fellow Pinoy brethren would be caught rollin’
in. Plus, I would get definitely mad if someone nicked the
G500 in a grocery parking lot. Anyway, the proposed 911
Carrera in the garage of my future would probably be jealous
of another Germanic piece of engineering parked beside her.
I also get pretty upset when purchasing an “asset” such as a
vehicle, wherein the next year it depreciates a good 20% (it’s
like if I purchased a car for $50,000.00, took out $10,000.00
in cash the next year, poured gasoline on it and lit it on
fire – that is so gross to me – I’d rather pop it in a mutual
fund and watch it grow, yeah right – see the stock market lately?).
If I miss the aroma, I can get new smell car “deodorant” at Kragen
anyway, lol.
I guess I got used to not making any car payments, with the
last of it when I paid off my Wrangler, about 4 years ago. I
got the vehicle out the door in 1999, for about $20,000.00.
It was the Sport Model, with the options I wanted at the time,
full doors, 4.0 inline six engine, auto tranny and A/C.
The Black Beauty, Tyra.
It was a pretty good price for the Jeep, my desire for it was
fueled even more during a great run at Blackjack in September
of that year. I put down $3,000.00, which put my balance of
the loan at $17,000.00. After 5 years and approximately
$25,000.00 in total payments, the Wrangler was mine. I
additionally paid $8,000.00 on top of the loan balance of
$17,000.00, due to the high interest rate of my loan (my credit
at the time was not stellar – but is pretty nice now, my FICO
is higher than my SAT English score back in the day, so I’m
pretty proud). I then sold the Wrangler in 2007 for approximately
$8,000.00, which was actual good market value for the Jeep in
its condition and age. So that’s a negative “investment” of
$20,000.00 in 8 years (not counting miscellaneous wear/tear
and repair costs). But you shouldn’t think of it as an
investment anyway, I bought the car due to certain emotional
reasons – meaning that it was the car I always “wanted” and
not what I actually “needed”. Sounds like a line from "Next
Door Millionaire" (good book, y'all need to read it. I miss
her though, but she was not that practical. Top down driving
is great, but shouting at your passengers while driving was
getting old. The backseat is not great for your passengers on
long trips. I don’t think anyone in the back liked it there,
especially with the top down, as it can be compared to walking
through a wind tunnel at Lockheed. I don’t want to make
anybody feel that I am putting down their desire of purchasing
a new car. I don’t think I would be able to do it again, unless
it was to lease one as a business expense or if I am at a point
in my life where I had “Fuck You Money” (where it would make no
difference in the cost of the vehicle to me – ie, “Fuck You, I’m
Rich Bee-Yotch!" - "Now pick up my Bentley Turbo R from Valet!").
I also miss my venerable Veedub Gabrielle (German, white and a
big “trunk”). She was my 1990 VW Jetta GLI 2.0 16v, that I sold
a few weeks ago. The poor man’s M3, hehe… She was so fun to
drive on twisty roads, especially gunning it down highway 17.
She was high maintenance at times, but when you treated her
right – she could outrun Vette’s and Mustangs on the way to
getting corn dogs at the Boardwalk. The beauty of front wheel
drive and a muscular 145 HP running through it (it’s a light
car you know, it’s not weighed down by useless things like
airbags and such, hehe). Pretty solid runner for a car 18
years old, she had low miles at 105K – still looked fresh,
but like I said she needed to be babied. So, I came to my
financial senses (I didn’t really need her or really drive
her these days – I didn’t bring her to Vegas), as opposed to
my emotional senses, and put her up for sale. Luckily, I
found a buyer who did not haggle on my last advertised price.
I actually sold the car about a “G” above Kelley Bluebook – not
bad, but I’m sad with the separation. I will probably not
find another one like her, in the same condition, ever.
I’m old school VW at heart.
Anyway, I’m fine with the Cherokee, Ms. Taylor – even though
she drinks a bit much, she’s still Trail Rated…
Trail Rated…
I am here at 4 Wheel Parts, in Henderson NV. I had the
Cherokee lifted 2 inches, side steps installed and a tow
hitch receiver put in the rear. I think the only other
things I would do to it would get black rims, slightly
bigger tires and a safari rack. I’m on the way to completing
the adventure vehicle. It’s a far cry from the suv of my
dreams, the MBZ G500 or a Land Rover Discovery 110 (the
four door, you probably seen them on TV on a safari show,
like Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom or something). Trust
me, I love the Jeep, I’ve only owned Jeeps or VW’s all my
life. I guess I like certain niche cars, not the typical
drivers that my fellow Pinoy brethren would be caught rollin’
in. Plus, I would get definitely mad if someone nicked the
G500 in a grocery parking lot. Anyway, the proposed 911
Carrera in the garage of my future would probably be jealous
of another Germanic piece of engineering parked beside her.
I also get pretty upset when purchasing an “asset” such as a
vehicle, wherein the next year it depreciates a good 20% (it’s
like if I purchased a car for $50,000.00, took out $10,000.00
in cash the next year, poured gasoline on it and lit it on
fire – that is so gross to me – I’d rather pop it in a mutual
fund and watch it grow, yeah right – see the stock market lately?).
If I miss the aroma, I can get new smell car “deodorant” at Kragen
anyway, lol.
I guess I got used to not making any car payments, with the
last of it when I paid off my Wrangler, about 4 years ago. I
got the vehicle out the door in 1999, for about $20,000.00.
It was the Sport Model, with the options I wanted at the time,
full doors, 4.0 inline six engine, auto tranny and A/C.
The Black Beauty, Tyra.
It was a pretty good price for the Jeep, my desire for it was
fueled even more during a great run at Blackjack in September
of that year. I put down $3,000.00, which put my balance of
the loan at $17,000.00. After 5 years and approximately
$25,000.00 in total payments, the Wrangler was mine. I
additionally paid $8,000.00 on top of the loan balance of
$17,000.00, due to the high interest rate of my loan (my credit
at the time was not stellar – but is pretty nice now, my FICO
is higher than my SAT English score back in the day, so I’m
pretty proud). I then sold the Wrangler in 2007 for approximately
$8,000.00, which was actual good market value for the Jeep in
its condition and age. So that’s a negative “investment” of
$20,000.00 in 8 years (not counting miscellaneous wear/tear
and repair costs). But you shouldn’t think of it as an
investment anyway, I bought the car due to certain emotional
reasons – meaning that it was the car I always “wanted” and
not what I actually “needed”. Sounds like a line from "Next
Door Millionaire" (good book, y'all need to read it. I miss
her though, but she was not that practical. Top down driving
is great, but shouting at your passengers while driving was
getting old. The backseat is not great for your passengers on
long trips. I don’t think anyone in the back liked it there,
especially with the top down, as it can be compared to walking
through a wind tunnel at Lockheed. I don’t want to make
anybody feel that I am putting down their desire of purchasing
a new car. I don’t think I would be able to do it again, unless
it was to lease one as a business expense or if I am at a point
in my life where I had “Fuck You Money” (where it would make no
difference in the cost of the vehicle to me – ie, “Fuck You, I’m
Rich Bee-Yotch!" - "Now pick up my Bentley Turbo R from Valet!").
I also miss my venerable Veedub Gabrielle (German, white and a
big “trunk”). She was my 1990 VW Jetta GLI 2.0 16v, that I sold
a few weeks ago. The poor man’s M3, hehe… She was so fun to
drive on twisty roads, especially gunning it down highway 17.
She was high maintenance at times, but when you treated her
right – she could outrun Vette’s and Mustangs on the way to
getting corn dogs at the Boardwalk. The beauty of front wheel
drive and a muscular 145 HP running through it (it’s a light
car you know, it’s not weighed down by useless things like
airbags and such, hehe). Pretty solid runner for a car 18
years old, she had low miles at 105K – still looked fresh,
but like I said she needed to be babied. So, I came to my
financial senses (I didn’t really need her or really drive
her these days – I didn’t bring her to Vegas), as opposed to
my emotional senses, and put her up for sale. Luckily, I
found a buyer who did not haggle on my last advertised price.
I actually sold the car about a “G” above Kelley Bluebook – not
bad, but I’m sad with the separation. I will probably not
find another one like her, in the same condition, ever.
I’m old school VW at heart.
Anyway, I’m fine with the Cherokee, Ms. Taylor – even though
she drinks a bit much, she’s still Trail Rated…
Friday, September 12, 2008
Ace Queen, No Good...
9/10/08
Ace Queen, No Good…
Today I went to play my favorite NLHE tourney at Caesars.
Only 36 people signed up for today, but it is hump day, not
a busy day in Vegas. It was good enough. I eventually
busted out 11th out of the 36 players.
I think I have to listen to my gut instinct more when playing.
I got lucky with 2 hands and of course lost the other, which led
to me exit out of the tournament. My first lucky hand consisted
of my having Ace/Queen OS on the dealer button. I raised it to
$250.00, which was 2.5 blinds at the time. I got calls from
the small blind, big blind and a mid position player. The flop
was dealt Queen, Two and Four, all OS. The small blind checked,
the big blind bet out $400.00, the midposition player folded,
and I then reraised him the $1,200.00 (I had a pretty healthy
chip stack of $7,000 behind). The small blind player folded,
the big blind player called and the midposition player folded.
There was now about $3,400.00 in the pot. The turn was dealt
another Queen, now I had 3 Queens with Ace kicker. The big
blind player bet out $1,200.00 (he had about $2,000.00 left
behind). I was kind of perplexed in trying to guess what he
held in the hole, I just knew that he was pot committed. I
paused to think, “does he have a full house now, like Fours over
Queens, or Twos over Queens?”…Hmmm…I decided to put him all in
for the rest of his chips. I tabled my hand for 3 Queens, and
the big blind flipped over Pocket Aces. Wow, he didn’t reraise
me preflop with that hand. If he reraised me big, I probably
would have folded my hand before the flop. It was his own fault
for trying to slow play Aces. You either win a small pot or lose
a big pot with Pocket Aces. Anyway the river bricked out and I
won the pot with my 3 Queens. Ace Queen Good!!!
My second lucky hand consisted of my hand on the dealer button
with Pocket Sevens. The under the gun player raised it 2 times
to $2,400.00. Everybody folded to me. The UTG player’s raise
indicated a pretty strong hand, a hand that wanted action. I
was hoping for Ace/King, or something like that. I had about
$13,000.00 in chips, it was pretty much now or never (blinds
were going up and we still had about 19 players left, with the
last 4 into the money – still a long trek). I decided to go
all in and asked the UTG player if he had a pair of Aces. He
gladly obliged and called my all in with what else, Pocked Aces.
But the poker gods wanted me to play longer and hit me a third
Seven on the River. Poker is brutal, but I’ll take that river,
hehe.
We were then down to the last 11 players. I had about $22,000.00
in chips with blinds at $600/1200, not necessarily short stacked,
but not a chip leader. The UTG player raised it double to $2,400.00.
Everyone folded and I peeled up Ace/Queen of Spades in the small
blind. I decided to call as did the big blind. The flop was
dealt Queen of Clubs, Two/Four of Hearts. I wondered am I good
here? He might have raised with Aces or Kings. Maybe not Aces,
as I have the Ace of Spades. I bet $7,000.00 into a pot of $7,200.00,
I had about $12,000.00 left behind. The big blind player folded
and the UTG player paused. I thought he may have a big hand now.
But I have top pair with top kicker! He then went all in over the
top of my bet and had me covered by about $6,000.00. I hate these
decisions, I even said out loud a few times that I felt that I was
behind in the hand. He made a very strong bet. I called his all
in and he peeled up Pocket Queens for a set. I’m pretty dead in
the water, I need runner runner Aces, that’s it – no chance for
straights or flushes with this board. No luckfest this time and
he took me out.
I’ve told myself not to play Ace/Queen out of position with a raise
in front of you. I should have folded preflop. But the hand looks
so pretty, suited too…Ace Queen, no good, she hurts me too much, hehe….
Ace Queen, No Good…
Today I went to play my favorite NLHE tourney at Caesars.
Only 36 people signed up for today, but it is hump day, not
a busy day in Vegas. It was good enough. I eventually
busted out 11th out of the 36 players.
I think I have to listen to my gut instinct more when playing.
I got lucky with 2 hands and of course lost the other, which led
to me exit out of the tournament. My first lucky hand consisted
of my having Ace/Queen OS on the dealer button. I raised it to
$250.00, which was 2.5 blinds at the time. I got calls from
the small blind, big blind and a mid position player. The flop
was dealt Queen, Two and Four, all OS. The small blind checked,
the big blind bet out $400.00, the midposition player folded,
and I then reraised him the $1,200.00 (I had a pretty healthy
chip stack of $7,000 behind). The small blind player folded,
the big blind player called and the midposition player folded.
There was now about $3,400.00 in the pot. The turn was dealt
another Queen, now I had 3 Queens with Ace kicker. The big
blind player bet out $1,200.00 (he had about $2,000.00 left
behind). I was kind of perplexed in trying to guess what he
held in the hole, I just knew that he was pot committed. I
paused to think, “does he have a full house now, like Fours over
Queens, or Twos over Queens?”…Hmmm…I decided to put him all in
for the rest of his chips. I tabled my hand for 3 Queens, and
the big blind flipped over Pocket Aces. Wow, he didn’t reraise
me preflop with that hand. If he reraised me big, I probably
would have folded my hand before the flop. It was his own fault
for trying to slow play Aces. You either win a small pot or lose
a big pot with Pocket Aces. Anyway the river bricked out and I
won the pot with my 3 Queens. Ace Queen Good!!!
My second lucky hand consisted of my hand on the dealer button
with Pocket Sevens. The under the gun player raised it 2 times
to $2,400.00. Everybody folded to me. The UTG player’s raise
indicated a pretty strong hand, a hand that wanted action. I
was hoping for Ace/King, or something like that. I had about
$13,000.00 in chips, it was pretty much now or never (blinds
were going up and we still had about 19 players left, with the
last 4 into the money – still a long trek). I decided to go
all in and asked the UTG player if he had a pair of Aces. He
gladly obliged and called my all in with what else, Pocked Aces.
But the poker gods wanted me to play longer and hit me a third
Seven on the River. Poker is brutal, but I’ll take that river,
hehe.
We were then down to the last 11 players. I had about $22,000.00
in chips with blinds at $600/1200, not necessarily short stacked,
but not a chip leader. The UTG player raised it double to $2,400.00.
Everyone folded and I peeled up Ace/Queen of Spades in the small
blind. I decided to call as did the big blind. The flop was
dealt Queen of Clubs, Two/Four of Hearts. I wondered am I good
here? He might have raised with Aces or Kings. Maybe not Aces,
as I have the Ace of Spades. I bet $7,000.00 into a pot of $7,200.00,
I had about $12,000.00 left behind. The big blind player folded
and the UTG player paused. I thought he may have a big hand now.
But I have top pair with top kicker! He then went all in over the
top of my bet and had me covered by about $6,000.00. I hate these
decisions, I even said out loud a few times that I felt that I was
behind in the hand. He made a very strong bet. I called his all
in and he peeled up Pocket Queens for a set. I’m pretty dead in
the water, I need runner runner Aces, that’s it – no chance for
straights or flushes with this board. No luckfest this time and
he took me out.
I’ve told myself not to play Ace/Queen out of position with a raise
in front of you. I should have folded preflop. But the hand looks
so pretty, suited too…Ace Queen, no good, she hurts me too much, hehe….
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Mid Life Crisis...
9/5/08
Mid Life Crisis…
Yeah right, I guess in my thirties, I have reached
Mid Life. I need to quit smoking, maybe I can increase
my life expectancy a few years to a decade, but who wants
to live till their past 80? I say that now, but you know,
70 to 80 years is a long time. I mean, do I have to budget
for my life expectancy or what? I know it’s kind of a
weird stance to take in thinking about how much money you
need to live, but these days, it’s kind of warranted.
There’s always the Philippines to go back to, with their
desirable exchange rate and all. With all the travelling
I have done going back to the homeland, these past years,
I don’t think I could hack it for the long run. There are
just some things you get used to when growing up in the
States. Like, a stable government, 7-11’s just down the
street, driving on roads without potholes, getting a chance
to vote, hot water on demand, the list is endless. I just
wish that the Philippines stayed a territory of USA, where
they would enjoy the same status at an actual state of the
union. But after World War II, that didn’t happen and the
PI digressed (where in turn, Japan, the country the States
dumped 2 atomic bombs on, has developed into a world
economic leader – weird to me).
Anyway, I flew back in the Bay Area this last Sunday to meet
up with family for Lola Floria’s one year death anniversary
(my grandmother on my mother’s side) and to hang out for
my birthday. I feel bad that I did not get to meet up with
some of my friends for my birthday, but I didn’t plan to do
anything big for it. I guess after a certain age, I don’t
feel like partying like I was 21 again. The body can’t take
it anymore. Like Sgt. Murtaugh (Danny Glover in Lethal
Weapon movies) says, “I’m too old for this shit”. Well, not
really hehe. I just wanted to spend a low key week in town.
I celebrated my birthday with my GF last Thursday. We spent
a relaxing hour at Watercourse Way in Palo Alto. We should
have stayed longer. If you haven’t gone there, I recommend
it for you to go. They have several rooms to choose and
couples specials (massage and tub combo’s). After Palo Alto,
we headed up to SF to eat at Fog City Diner for dinner.
If you know me, I can do fine dining, but I really like the
simple fare. Well, Fog City Diner is not your typical diner
though. You could say it’s the “Cadillac” or “MBZ’y” of
diners. It’s located off the Embarcadero and Battery streets
in the City. Here’s is a rundown of what we ordered…Started
off with these buttery Cheese Biscuits, if you like the ones
at Red Lobster, you’ll definitely want these, they are 10
times better. They just kind of melted in your mouth.
Next up was Ahi Tuna Tartar Bruschetta, doused in olive oil
(you can imagine the taste). For the main entrée, was their
Signature Burger, I think it might have been made with ground
prime rib. Had the burger topped off with blue cheese, arugula,
grilled onions and applewood bacon. Truffle cut fries topped
with melted asiago was on the side. Another good choice.
For dessert were 2 Ghiradelli Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.
A great tasting version of the Reese’s OG snack, I love.
Oh yeah, got my first LV from the GF too, I guess I have
joined the club...
Snuggling sessions occurred later of course, can't seem
to do without them. Gay, huh? Hehe...
Anyway, just seemed like I wanted to chill for the rest of
the weekend. Went to a cousin's birthday bbq that Saturday,
grubbed and swam. Then went to Mom's and Dad's with the
GF, to babysit Mom for a bit, as Dad wanted to go party
with some of his old coworkers in the City.
I guess Garcia's never retire from the scene.
It was fine, as I wanted to spend time with the Moms
(as you may know she is post kidney transplant surgery for
the last 6 months and she is doing pretty good). Plus my
GF wanted to see the stray kittens that come over to
my parents home, from the next door neighbors. The
next door neighbor died some time ago and her children
did not take her cats. 2 litters have been borne since
then. So there's about 8 kittens with a couple of
mommies and the dad. My GF had a good time feeding
and hanging out with the cat family. She has a good
heart, well I think she is part cat too...hehe...
My brother and his wife came over, so me and the GF hit
Valley Fair to check out some stuff before Macy's closed.
"These boots are made for walkin', that's just what
they'll do..." (sorry inside joke)...
Sunday was chill too, met up with a couple of buddies
for the old skool meet ups for breakfast. Went to
see Lola Floria and Lolo Pedring at the cemetery one
more time before leaving to Vegas. Kicked it at home
with the GF, before her dropping me off at the airport.
I really hate goodbyes...
I will need to see more of the peeps next time I visit,
which will probably be soon...but it can be hard with
everyone's busy schedule.
Mid Life Crisis is in the mind, I don't really have it.
Just need to maximize the oppurtunity I planned out for
when I left the 9 to 5.
See y'all on the green felt...
Mid Life Crisis…
Yeah right, I guess in my thirties, I have reached
Mid Life. I need to quit smoking, maybe I can increase
my life expectancy a few years to a decade, but who wants
to live till their past 80? I say that now, but you know,
70 to 80 years is a long time. I mean, do I have to budget
for my life expectancy or what? I know it’s kind of a
weird stance to take in thinking about how much money you
need to live, but these days, it’s kind of warranted.
There’s always the Philippines to go back to, with their
desirable exchange rate and all. With all the travelling
I have done going back to the homeland, these past years,
I don’t think I could hack it for the long run. There are
just some things you get used to when growing up in the
States. Like, a stable government, 7-11’s just down the
street, driving on roads without potholes, getting a chance
to vote, hot water on demand, the list is endless. I just
wish that the Philippines stayed a territory of USA, where
they would enjoy the same status at an actual state of the
union. But after World War II, that didn’t happen and the
PI digressed (where in turn, Japan, the country the States
dumped 2 atomic bombs on, has developed into a world
economic leader – weird to me).
Anyway, I flew back in the Bay Area this last Sunday to meet
up with family for Lola Floria’s one year death anniversary
(my grandmother on my mother’s side) and to hang out for
my birthday. I feel bad that I did not get to meet up with
some of my friends for my birthday, but I didn’t plan to do
anything big for it. I guess after a certain age, I don’t
feel like partying like I was 21 again. The body can’t take
it anymore. Like Sgt. Murtaugh (Danny Glover in Lethal
Weapon movies) says, “I’m too old for this shit”. Well, not
really hehe. I just wanted to spend a low key week in town.
I celebrated my birthday with my GF last Thursday. We spent
a relaxing hour at Watercourse Way in Palo Alto. We should
have stayed longer. If you haven’t gone there, I recommend
it for you to go. They have several rooms to choose and
couples specials (massage and tub combo’s). After Palo Alto,
we headed up to SF to eat at Fog City Diner for dinner.
If you know me, I can do fine dining, but I really like the
simple fare. Well, Fog City Diner is not your typical diner
though. You could say it’s the “Cadillac” or “MBZ’y” of
diners. It’s located off the Embarcadero and Battery streets
in the City. Here’s is a rundown of what we ordered…Started
off with these buttery Cheese Biscuits, if you like the ones
at Red Lobster, you’ll definitely want these, they are 10
times better. They just kind of melted in your mouth.
Next up was Ahi Tuna Tartar Bruschetta, doused in olive oil
(you can imagine the taste). For the main entrée, was their
Signature Burger, I think it might have been made with ground
prime rib. Had the burger topped off with blue cheese, arugula,
grilled onions and applewood bacon. Truffle cut fries topped
with melted asiago was on the side. Another good choice.
For dessert were 2 Ghiradelli Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.
A great tasting version of the Reese’s OG snack, I love.
Oh yeah, got my first LV from the GF too, I guess I have
joined the club...
Snuggling sessions occurred later of course, can't seem
to do without them. Gay, huh? Hehe...
Anyway, just seemed like I wanted to chill for the rest of
the weekend. Went to a cousin's birthday bbq that Saturday,
grubbed and swam. Then went to Mom's and Dad's with the
GF, to babysit Mom for a bit, as Dad wanted to go party
with some of his old coworkers in the City.
I guess Garcia's never retire from the scene.
It was fine, as I wanted to spend time with the Moms
(as you may know she is post kidney transplant surgery for
the last 6 months and she is doing pretty good). Plus my
GF wanted to see the stray kittens that come over to
my parents home, from the next door neighbors. The
next door neighbor died some time ago and her children
did not take her cats. 2 litters have been borne since
then. So there's about 8 kittens with a couple of
mommies and the dad. My GF had a good time feeding
and hanging out with the cat family. She has a good
heart, well I think she is part cat too...hehe...
My brother and his wife came over, so me and the GF hit
Valley Fair to check out some stuff before Macy's closed.
"These boots are made for walkin', that's just what
they'll do..." (sorry inside joke)...
Sunday was chill too, met up with a couple of buddies
for the old skool meet ups for breakfast. Went to
see Lola Floria and Lolo Pedring at the cemetery one
more time before leaving to Vegas. Kicked it at home
with the GF, before her dropping me off at the airport.
I really hate goodbyes...
I will need to see more of the peeps next time I visit,
which will probably be soon...but it can be hard with
everyone's busy schedule.
Mid Life Crisis is in the mind, I don't really have it.
Just need to maximize the oppurtunity I planned out for
when I left the 9 to 5.
See y'all on the green felt...
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