Thursday, July 4, 2013


When I was very young, maybe four years old, I had a swingset. Or maybe not. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure whether it had swings, but I do know that it had monkey bars. So at the very least, I had a monkeyset. Anyway, at that point in my life I was still relatively new to the monkey bars, and had not yet traversed the stunningly vast distance (~6 feet) that they covered. Or rather, I had never done so alone. One day, while all alone, I decided to do it. So I climbed up the two rungs that led up from the ground, and I began my journey.

One monkey bar.

Two monkey bars.



I was stuck. My tiny little arms just weren't strong enough to continue. The only problem was that at that point in my life, I was only barely taller than I am now. I probably measured in at around 3 feet, and as a result, I couldn't touch the ground. That left upwards of two feet between my feet and the ground. As far as I knew, it was too far of a fall to survive. So I hung on, hoped for rescue, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I can't remember how long I waited or whether anyone came to my rescue, but that isn't really relevant to the story, so I'll skip it. Today, I climbed to the top of Macau Tower at a height of 338 meters (1,108 feet) attached my safety harnesses, leaned back, and let go. It was supremely terrifying and mindblowing. If I had started the climb drunk (fuck that, but I'm saying this hypothetically) that lean by itself would have rendered me sober as a Quaker judge. On the way back down the tower, while scanning the surrounding landscape, I spotted a pair of monkey bars.

I think I was still more scared when I was four.

Friday, June 21, 2013

The efficiency and convenience of lax security and regulations

Today, my alarms went off at 4:30AM. I was not pleased, but I only permitted myself one snooze before I got up and headed toward the road. Romeo, the driver I met when I initially arrived in Siquijor town, met me at the gate. When I first tried to get on, I bashed my knee into the metal frame of the sidecar. It still hurts. Pretty sure I bruised the bone. Anyway, Romeo drove me to the airport. Once we got there, he told me to use the Ocean Jet ferry, since it's faster. I went over to the Ocean Jet kiosk only to discover that their 6AM ferry was *cancelled!*

"Hm," I said. "Well, no matter. This other kiosk is selling ferry tickets as well."

So I go over to the other kiosk, wait until a couple people have finished their transaction, and tell the girl I need a ticket for the 5:50AM ferry. She says I can't because there isn't one. She then tells me there isn't another ferry until 8AM! I give her my "Oh fuck" face, and explain that I have a flight at *9AM*. I ask if there are any other ferries. She may have waffled a bit, then "remembered" (scare quotes may or may not be appropriate) that there is a ferry at 6:30AM. I am suspicious that she was holding a seat for a friend, but I let her think she's tricked me.

Anyway, we eventually boarded, and the ferry ride began. I kept glancing at the mass of land that was our destination, but it seemed to only get marginally larger despite the increasingly significant passage of time. At 7:20, we were still not there. Then, at 7:45, we were still not there. Then, we arrived at the port... at 8:12AM!

"Oh, bother," I said.

With lightning fast speed, I made my way toward the front of the boat and twitched in the queue that formed and slogged its way off the boat. Once I touched land, I jogged toward the trikes I saw in the distance. One man, obviously a local, noticed my haste and asked where I was headed.

"How much to the airport?" I asked.

"120," he replied.

I agreed and he led me to a trike which was to be driven by another man. As I got on, he may have been discussing waiting for other passengers. A man who must have realized the situation asked me what time my flight was. I told him, and they all burst into action. The man kickstarted his bike, two men got on, and the ride started. As we pulled away, he slowed slightly and asked how much I was paying. I told him 120.

"150," he said.

He started to elaborate on the reasons why, but I didn't care. A missed flight was phenomenally more expensive than the extra 30P (.75USD) he wanted. I agreed to his price, and he laid on the gas. As it turned out, that extra 30P earned me what may be coined "Driving as if on fire and/or PCP". The other two passengers, well aware of my predicament, didn't even wait for the trike to stop when they needed to get off. They departed and hit the ground running as the trike continued on its way. He wheeled through traffic, onto sidewalks, past bicycles, and as fast as his motorcycle/sidecar amalgamation could go. I arrived at the airport at approximately 8:22AM. I complimented his driving, paid him with the money I had already retrieved from my wallet, and continued inside.

Once inside, a man checked my large bag for... something. I then proceeded to check in, pay my terminal fee, proceed through a second security section (the metal detector was broken, so they had to check my bags by hand. They missed the 2 liter bottle of water in my daypack), and into the waiting area by 8:32AM.

That's right. Two security stages, check-in, and terminal fee in *less than 10 minutes.*

Another ten minutes later, and boarding was announced. When I walked onto the plane, an attendant plane, an attendant offered me a piece of gum. I think it was from her personal stash.

And that is how my day started. Cheers.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

The Milky Way, Gecko sex, progress on the book, and so on and so forth.


I've moved around quite a bit since my last post. I'll try to sum it up without much padding. Let's see... In Sabang, I met Jake and Lisa, who I then traveled with for about three weeks. We went from Sabang to Tablas Island, where we stayed at a nice little place (the name of which I cannot remember) with extremely nice hosts. We took a day trip from there to Looc (Pronounced Loh-Ock, roughly) to a fish sanctuary. There were many fish! There was also a clam field, meaning there were basically tons of clams *all big enough to eat my skull.* I also saw seahorses (I've seen a lot of them since then), and a puffer fish who apparently had some sort of serious and probably fatal problem. Not sure exactly what was wrong with him, but normally, if you see a puffer fish, they freak out and puff up (and become spiky) so you don't want to eat them. In my case, I only noticed the puffer when he was 5 feet away (at the surface of the water, no less), and he then "chased" me fifty feet back to the floating dock-thing. It was really cool at first, and then it was scary. Have you ever seen a puffer fish's face? They are a bit hideous. When they're steadily pursuing you, have clouded-over eyes and are only barely managing to swim, it's a bit unnerving. The damn thing came to within probably 8 inches of my face at one point, and I had to perform a very dramatic water maneuver to escape.

Anyway, from there we went to Carabou Island, which was hailed as "the next Borocay". There was pretty much nothing there aside from gorgeous beach, but almost everyone wanted 1500 Pisos ($37) a night for a room. We found a cheaper place and left there for the *actual* Borocay shortly thereafter. Borocay was... interesting. It's basically the place you want to go if you want to go to a lot of bars, do some water activities (boat rides, parasailing, jetskiing, etc), maybe pick up a girl who is definitely not a prostitute, maybe pick up a lady who is definitely not a boy, and maybe get an ending to your massage that is pleasant but definitely not happy. I was offered a happy massage ending, but was robbed that night and left the next day, so I couldn't take part. Oh well, maybe next time!

Anyway, Jake, Lisa and I parted ways (or rather, I parted ways with them), and I came here, to the fabled land of Siquijor. Here, I've seen a bit of waterfall, a great bit of beach and ocean, geckos having sex (pretty serious stuff, geckos don't play nice), and... the milky way. I'm not sure I have ever been able to see the milky way with such clarity. Maybe I never have. It is amazing.

As for the book, I am going to be sending a few questions to my editor, but aside from that almost all fixes have been made. I'm waiting on a sketch from the artist I chose to do the book cover ( ) . Aside from that, just a few other things stand between me and publishing the my first book! Here's to hoping it doesn't flop, stain my fledging reputation, and propel me into a downward spiral that can only end in me laying dead in a gutter, covered with horny geckos and/or ladyboys.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

WALL 'O TEXT ALERT - 3 busses, 1 ferry, 3 jeepneys, one motorbike and a short walk to my destination. 29 hours. Where the hell am I, what the hell is going on, seriously.

I left Sagada at 5AM on Tuesday, April 5th and arrived at my destination (Tuna Joe Backpackers and Condo's in Puerto Galera on Mindoori) at 9AM on Wednesday, April 6th. What strange ride. And it wasn't even weird until I arrived in Mindoori.

Hold on, let me warn you: If you are in any way offended by gay sex, stop reading.


That doesn't mean what it sounds like. Or does it? I report, you decide.

Let me start at the beginning. I left Sagada at 5AM. The ~5 hour bus ride took me to Bagio. There, I asked a guard how to get to Manila. He told me it was too far, that I should take a taxi. "Screw you" I whispered to myself after walking far enough away that he couldn't hear me. "I'll get a jeepney, instead."

Sidenote: A jeepney, for those who don't know (Pretty much everyone?), is basically a jeep/bus hybrid that costs *much* less than taxis. For instance, I previously took a taxi from where I staying in Manila to the bus station for 400 Pisos, about $10USD. On my way back from the bus station on a jeepney, I paid 8 Pisos, which is about... 20 cents USD. Granted, I had to walk 6 blocks from where he dropped me off, but the point is that jeepneys are cheaper than taxis.

Anyway, I tell the jeepney driver where I want to go: Victory Liner station. He then takes me down to a bus station. I walk around for ten minutes, looking at all the busses before asking and being told that I had to take a taxi to get there. "Screw that," I muttered. "I'll take a jeepney." So I go to the road and ask another jeepney driver. He says he doesn't go there, and to go to the other side of the road. So I go to the other side of the road and ask another jeepney driver. He tells me to go to the other side of the road, so I hail down a fucking taxi and have him take me to Victory Liner station.

That bus ride took me from Bagio to... Cabau? Idk, it took 6 hours to get there. So let's see, that brings us to... around 6PM, at which point I need to get to Batangas City, the jumping off point to Puerto Galera. So the bus ride there take about... 3.5 hours, maybe 4? I don't know, I was tired. So I arrive at the port of Batangas City, and enter the queue to purchase tickets to Puerto Galera... but there ARE no tickets to Puerto Galera, because those only go on sale earlier in the day rather than at 11PM. There are only tickets to Calapan, which I am later told is a two hour drive from Puerto Galera. Oh well, I have a room reserved in Puerto Galera already (I am not a clever man), so I press onward.

Gilbert and Joann, a soon-to-be-wed couple, chatted with me for a bit on the roughly 3 hour ferry ride to Calapan. Since they were awesome people, they invited me onto their family's jeepney and gave me a free ride to a jeepney stop which would start the day at... 4AM. Or 6AM. I'm pretty sure I heard different reports from the same people. It was a little before 2AM at the time. Anyway, there is a bar right behind the stop, so I go in, order a beer and sit down to read.

This is where shit got weird.

Twice, an older woman pushed a younger couple onto the floor to get them to dance. I don't think that's weird, but maybe she was doing it for my benefit. I only say that because later on, the older woman said, "Hiii" as she walked past. I smiled, said "Hi", and went back to reading. Then, my Kindle battery alerted me that it was going to die, so I asked if I could plug into the wall. The bartender said I could, and another barkeep helped move my things. Then, the barkeep got chatty. He started the usual questions: Where I was from, whether I was alone, what my job was, the usual. Then he asked for my number. He had this strange shit-eating grin on his face and I'm a suspicious guy, so I figured he was up to something, but I paid 40 Pisos ($1USD) for the sim card, so who the hell cares.

"But Jim," you ask. "Why did you give him your email?"

Somehow, that seemed safer at the time. I don't know, shut up, stop asking questions. Anyway, I ask him why he wants my number. He says maybe he wants to ask my advice on something. I ask what, and he gets all weird, as if his coworkers or customers wouldn't be cool hearing what he has to ask me. I ask how much a water is, he says it can be free. I take the water and drink the damn thing because: free (unopened) water.

So eventually, I realize the boy is gay and that he's not looking for advice. He's 20, btw. I figure hey, I'll let him ask his question. What's the harm? I don't want to scare the kid. Hell, I'll show him some acceptance, the poor bastard. So I-

-But wait, hold on, some other guy keeps talking to me. I mention where I'm headed and he offers to drive me there on his tricycle (it's a 1.5-2 hour drive, and he's wasted) for only 500 Pisos (I ended up paying 120 for two jeepneys and a motorbike ride)! I turn him down roughly thirty-five times, not including my rejections of his offer to come stay in his house (He has three/four/five vacant rooms. It's free, man!) as well as his offer to take me to see the sights for free. Eventually, I accept his offer so he'll leave. I have no intention of calling him. Ever.

So I get back to talking with Gaybo. They're closing up, so I go out to a gazebo outside. He joins me and asks... questions. I let him ask them. Why not? What harm could it possibly do?

No, I won't have sex with you. No, you cannot give me a blowjob. No, you cannot touch my penis. No, seriously, you cannot touch it. No, I did not just pitch a tent. No, you cannot see my penis. No, I do not want to take a piss with you.

Pretty standard stuff, I guess.

At some point, he told me he was a blogger who blogged about sex. Y'know, orgies and stuff. He wanted to blog about me, but just *couldn't* if I didn't tell him the details. I had to decline to answer about the length of my penis or how much I masturbate per day. OH RIGHT, I forgot that he asked me if he could stay with me if he came to Puerto Galera.

Eventually, the jeepney drivers finally showed up, so I went over to wait. He called me on the phone (I was forty yards away) and he kept asking questions. Eventually, I got off the phone. He came over shortly after with his friends and said to take a van instead. They guaranteed it would be 100 Pisos (what I was probably going to pay for the jeepney) and a much better ride. I figure if they wanted to do something to me, they couldn't since they were scrawny, so I walk over to discover that he wants me to ride on the tricycle/sidecar with them over to the van. There are four people that intend to cram onto this thing. He also informs me that he is going to Puerto Galera.

I decline the ride and finally, gods be thanked, he leaves. He called or texted at some other point to tell me he missed me. He also texted to tell me he was masturbating.

Pretty standard stuff, I guess.

Anyway after that, I got on a jeepney with 12 people, boxes of live crabs, dead prawns, dead clams, and god knows what else, followed by another jeepney with roughly the same cargo. Then a motorbike. I had to piss pretty much the entire time. Now, I'm here at Tuna Joe's. The toilets don't flush, the screen on the window broke when I tried to close it, one of the cabinet doors is broken, there is no wi-fi (the internet ad said there was wi-fi), and I smell like sodomized roadkill. So far, Puerto Galera gets an F+.

Time for a shower, some food, a swim, and... more showering. I feel really dirty.

Vote: How can I best prevent the situation I found myself in with Gaybo?

UPDATE: The showers use saltwater and there is a human molar on the bathroom floor.


Monday, April 22, 2013

I may tend to be a terrible blogger, but at least I'm inconsistent.


Ok, it's been a while, so here's what's happened so far. I *was* in Brunei. Then, I left with Melissa for the El Nido in the Philippines. We went swimming  and snorkeling, I gashed my leg open on some rocks... it was an awesome time. Just a quick description of the place we stayed at the most. It was a resort that is best to reach by boat. Mel and I didn't know that, so we walked from where the tricycle guy dropped us off. It was a 30 minute walk in the heat and the sun, mostly through sand, while carrying all our stuff. Rough but worth it. The resort was mostly a grassy lawn (which hermit crabs crawled across at night), and a bunch of low buildings. Electricity was restricted to 10am-12pm and 6PM-6AM. The food was absolutely delicious and everyone was really nice. Anyway, we left there and went to Manila for a couple days before Mel returned to work for classes in Dubai. I stayed for a couple days there, then took a bus ~3.5 hours or to Tagaytay. Then, thinking I had left my tablet charger in Manila, I returned. Five minutes after arriving, I found my charger in a rarely used section of my bag. Figures.

After that, I decided to go to Sagada, a mountain town in the middle of nowhere with (as I discovered later) a 0% violent crime rate. One person told me it was a 6 hour bus trip. Another told me 12 hours. They were both sort of right, since it was two 6-hour bus trips. The first 6 hours was a relatively average bus trip (I assume, since I slept through most of it), and in the second 6 hours, the bus was piloted on what felt like 2,500 consecutive figure-8 patterns by either an aspiring F-1 race car driver or a suicidist. The scenery was beautiful. Eventually, I will upload the pictures. As for Sagada, I wasn't sure about it at first, but it is growing on me. It's really just one strip of road with a bunch of very small businesses run by the locals. No chain businesses, nobody bothering me to buy their things. I can get a bottle of local wine (guava wine!) for 150 Pisos, which is like $1.80USD. The people are awesome. Oh, and it's on a hill so I'm getting in better shape just by walking around. One of the best parts about this place (to me, anyway) is the smell. Pine trees are everywhere. Often, I feel like I'm at summer camp or a US State Park. Overall, not bad! Not sure where to go next, but I am thinking of Vigan, which is considered the best existing Spanish Colonial town.

As of right now, the editor, Jenn, is 1/3 done with the first edit of In Hell, and should be done with the second by May 1. I have also contacted several artists on, so hopefully something great will happen. We shall see! Sorry for the wall o' text... I'll try to be *slightly* better about consistent blogging in the future.



Thursday, March 14, 2013

I'm in Brunei Darasa... Darase... Yeah, so I'm in Brunei

I've been here for a few days now, actually. Since Melissa has been doing essentially nothing in an office (on land) for three weeks, it seemed like a pretty sweet idea to come out. Two days later, she was sent to an offshore rig. Figures. As far as I know, though, she'll be back on and tomorrow, at which time she can commence slapping my sunburn! I'm currently chugging water to try and fend off the 'pain & peels'.

Ok, so after deciding to focus my energies on In Hell, I've gone through another full edit.. plus a quick edit to fix all the dialogue formatting errors I made previously. It had been sitting at around 85K words, but is now either 92K or 95K, depending on which word processor I use to do a word count. I really think it's better than it ever has been! Here's to hoping people actually like/buy the damn thing.

Now, I need to find an editor, commission an artist to make a new cover (I have an older one, but I got a new idea, and DeviantArt looks REALLY promising), and figure out the whole 'self-publishing' bit. As it turns out, I have no idea what the hell I am doing, but it looks like I'll publish through Kindle as well as Smashwords. The latter takes an extra 10% cut, but pushes my book out to itunes, Barns & Nobles, and a few other stores, so I figure it's worth it.

What else... Not a lot going on, really. Brunei is a pretty nice country. The rat population is apparently pretty low (unlike Melaka), a fact which I think can be attributed to the high snake population. I haven't seen any snakes yet, mind you, but they're out there, waiting. Anyway, Brunei appears to be a cool mix of actual jungle and well-developed areas, though it is not without its hiccups. For instance, in 'Roomz', the hotel Mel and I stayed at when I first arrived, I looked down while dressing to see a cockroach on my hip. I don't consider myself to be too girly or too manly (I figure I'm pretty balanced, aside from my love of bubble baths), but holy shit, did I freak out. I am NOT a fan of motherfucking cockroaches. He was lucky to survive the encounter, and I'm lucky I didn't try to run away through the sliding glass door beside me.

Oh, so... one thing I haven't mentioned previously is what has struck me as the biggest different between Asia and the US: drainage systems. In the US, it's all mostly closed off. You don't see it, and you don't smell it. But here, all the drains are covered either with grating, holey cement, or absolutely nothing. As a result, you see and DEFINITELY smell it. Also, if you're not careful, you'll fall into it and snap an ankle, pass out, get robbed while unconscious, lay there until rescued, get gangrene in your foot due to the nasty shit in that ditch, and lose the whole leg. After that, it's anybody's ballgame, except yours.

Welp, I'm out of stuff to say. Bye!

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Being in Melaka

I spotted her from just a few feet away, and our eyes met. There was an air of mystery about her. Where did she come from? What did she do for a living? What was going on behind her tiny eyes? She stood partially obscured by shadow as if to add to her own mystique, then stepped out slowly from the dark, allowing me to better see her snout. Deciding to play coy, I hesitantly returned focus to my meal, then glanced back after a few moments to see her walking away, along the sidewalk. After realizing that I had noticed her departure, she stopped and stared at me again. Since her face was not particularly expressive, she might have been looking at me with anything from mild amusement to wild-eyed terror. Hinting at the latter, she scurried back into the sewer drain, which I assume was her home. Though she appeared a few more times during my meal, she eventually disappeared, leaving me to ponder the strength of my appetite, and whether I was comfortable sitting so near to a rat with unknown intentions.

I have since moved from that part of town, and am now housed at Jiong Guesthouse, within China Town. A friend landed me a deal at a guesthouse, and I'm currently paying $4.61 per day for a room with a fan, though I will be paying just under $6 starting tomorrow, since I will be upgrading to an air-conditioned room. I'll be here for another two weeks. I don't know where I'll be headed after that, but I'm torn between jungle and the beach! There is always the chance, however small, that I'll find a place with both. I could settle for a jungle with a swimmable river.

I've finished a short story I stared a while back, called The Haunt, and have edited a particular scene of In Hell to be more graphic than it was previously. I started working on another story, but I got bored with it, so I think I'm going to take the outline of another story and build on that, instead. Soon, Mel and I will start another round of reading/editing of In Hell, since I need to focus on that story and get it out on the market to, gods willing, earn me some cash monies. Hey, you never know. An actual author here, by the name of... uh... Zvenemier... has published 2 books on his travels, selling over 26,000 copies and earning 3 Euro for each, meaning he's pulled in 78,000 EU, which is a bit more than that in USD!

Is this blog post boring? I feel like I'm rambling on, and not being funny. Oh well. If you read this far, it's your own fault.

Cheers for now!