Tuesday, 30 September 2014
Coming soon to a drink near you. Reminded me of when I was revising for the ECE Board exams and living in Dimasalang. Ice would be delivered like this in front of the carinderia every morning. So do you want ice for your softdrink? No thank you.
Not sure what this bloc is for (it could be for meat and fish) but yep, they just drop them on the mean streets of Cubao and drag them to where they need to be.
at 6:29 pm
Saturday, 27 September 2014
The most critical thing you need to know about Acacia Hotel "Manila" is that it is NOT actually in Manila. (Truth in advertising!) Rather, it's in faraway Alabang (it's practically Laguna/Cavite). There is NOTHING in Alabang for a casual tourist. Also, bear in mind that all hotels in Alabang (7 of them) are overpriced. (Like you'd go to Vivere because it's a 'destination' hotel. Puleez). The only conceivable reasons you're in Alabang, as a foreigner, are a)you are on business for Laguna Export processing zone companies or b)you are with an escort. In the case of Acacia Hotel "Manila", it can be both. On the two days we had buffet breakfast, there was AT LEAST one middle aged man sharing a table with an appropriately dressed younger woman. No, she's definitely not the secretary. Who knew the buffet hall of Acacia Hotel "Manila" was the place to be for the world's oldest profession? More importantly, I hope the escorts are charging well because, obviously, it's a difficult and seasonal job. (The clients are not exactly George Clooneyish)
People of all persuasions trying to get their money's worth in Alabang.
The best part of Acacia Hotel Not Manila is the egg section. There's a nice chef who can do your eggs as you like.
You know Acacia Hotel Not Manila is not a real 5-star hotel when you read the place signs.
Laguna lake is behind those boring buildings.
PS: I did not make this judgement based solely on appearance. It's pretty normal, naman, to come to hotel buffet wearing a cocktail dress. As in. I also eavesdropped on their conversation. And I tell you, they are not discussing Excel Sheets.
at 7:50 am
Friday, 26 September 2014
The wifi password has changed. It's now "orderfirst".
Luisa's is the best place to wait out the rain. It's cheap and filled with Baguio's weirdos, drunks, has-been politicians, contractors, pundits, olde traders, and is still the de facto headquarters of journalists (Upstairs. Avoid if you don't smoke). As such, keep your ears open for gossip.
Nothing is more satisfying than..
...peeing on ice.
at 8:37 pm
Who knew that one day Bakakeng would be a foodie destination? But here it stands, a diner serving American Southern dishes.
I'm taking a mental note of this oven because I want to build my own.
The dining room has a view of SLU's mini - track oval. I think it's 200 metres around.
The dark beer cheesecake. And the wifi password. (Not very subtle)
Incidentally, Ozark is next to The Arc ( a dormitory).
It's also next to Harvard and Princeton. Go figure.
at 8:20 pm
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
I went for a walk/jog and ended up in the grocery. I felt peckish and decided I wanted to make puto. Nevermind that it was near midnight. I was not going to be denied. Tonight I decided I wanted saffron puto with cheese.
The saffron. I used around 0.5g. There's no point scrimping.
Use your fingers in the same vigorous and generous manner Marlon Brando lubed up Maria Schneider in Paris.
Steam. Add raclette only because it's available.
Sprinkle the coconuts.
Hipster Shaun approves of this midnight snack.
at 1:04 am
Monday, 22 September 2014
Sunday, 21 September 2014
Saturday, 20 September 2014
I agree....but for reasons other than financial woes and pets. We grew fat and are thus unable to perform erotic calisthenics. There were positions we used to do when we were young and nubile but add 10kg on your waist and belly and they become forms of torture.
I have no problem sharing the bed with pets. This is me and FatOtis. We are both fat.
at 7:38 pm
Friday, 19 September 2014
I was watching (or attempted to watch) Grace of Monaco. Got bored. Fell asleep. Woke up peckish. So why not a grilled 3-cheese sandwich? I had Swiss raclette, Norwegian jarlsberg, and English mature cheddar. Turkish white bread buttered by the French and pan lubricated by Palestinian olive oil. It's all so United Nations.
at 3:47 pm