“FUCK!!! Just turn off that damn TV!?” I screamed as I repeatedly banged my head against the window, hoping to knock myself unconscious.

GMA is slowly blinding Filipinos, and this time, I’m not talking about the president.

It’s actually the television station that’s slowly deteriorating our vision. Another crazy conspiracy you say? I beg to differ!

I used to have 20/20 vision, but now it seems more like a 20/20/20/20 vision with me seeing doubles all the time. Now let me warn you that you really have to experience what I’ll be talking about to understand me. Otherwise, you’ll just think that the solution is the easiest, silliest, stupidest and most “duh” thing to do. Really, it’s not that simple.

See my visionary impediment began not too long ago, when I decided to take a job at a small advertising agency situated on Emerald Avenue, off Ortigas Boulevard. Living in the Santa Mesa area, I quickly asked my sister what might be the best way to commute to work.

“Oh, take the bus. It’ll be cheap, it has air-con and TV!” she joyfully proclaimed.

Though I’m not much of a TV watcher, other than news and sports, I whole-heartedly rejoiced to the thought of having the good old television while stuck in the rush hour jams. This is one feeling I no longer carry.

Upon riding the bus, you’ll notice one thing, and one thing ONLY; the damn TV! Now, let’s not get started on how TV is polluting the minds of our youth and how it should be limited to the just the “good” channels namely: CNN, BBC, ESPN, Discovery, Animal Planet, National Geographic and the Playboy Channel… ok, ok we can forget the Animal Planet Channel since there are a lot of things on there for mature audiences… Anyway, as I was saying, when you take a ride in these buses, you can’t help but to stare at the TV.

The problem with this is that the damn TV is hooked up to, what I assume, is a crooked, stupid, pupil-degrading antenna! Add on a moving bus to this crooked, stupid, pupil-degrading antenna, and the result will be static like you’ve never seen before. I swear it feels like I’m either being brainwashed or taught to read the Matrix codes so I can help Neo save the world. It’s worse than riding a freakin’ roller coaster drunk while on shrooms!

Of course, you automatically think that the solution is simple. “Look away” you say. Well let me tell you Mr. or Ms. F-ing-Know-it-All, looking away is not really an option! See the bus is funneled where all you can really see is the front. It’s one long, vertical vehicle that has a straight aisle in the middle, directing your vision and attention to the front. Now you try looking out the window and you still see reflections of the staticky-jacked-up TV. Not to mentions, the only sounds you hear are from the damn TV, again drawing your attention to the moving pixels of absolute blur-shit in front of us all! Half the time, I don’t even notice that I’m watching the damn thing again, I just suddenly feel nauseous.

Now why is GMA at fault? Well I assume that they have some sort of contract with the G-Liner busses to turn the TV on to their channel every time. Well, it’s either that or ALL the bus drivers and conductors just love watching damn Slam Dunk cartoons in the morning and Freakin’ Family Feud at nights (among the other annoying programs)! I’m talking about every single bus that I’ve been on, at least twice a day, for the past three months have the TV tuned into the same channel every eye-degrading day!

Now here’s my request for the damn TV executives banking off the advertising money they get from boasting that “we have the fleet of buses that only shows our channel to potential consumers of blah blah blah bs bs bs bs…”

FIX THE DAMN TV! FIX THE DAMN CROOKED, STUPID, PUPIL-DEGRADING ANTENNA! I DON’T CARE IF YOU TRY TO MAKE MONEY OFF THIS BUT FIX IT SO WE DON’T GO BLIND IN THE DAMN PROCESS!

If you don’t, then just let the damn buses be quiet and allow me to rest in my own thoughts as my day begins or ends. You’re blinding people… slowly! If you disagree with me then please, take a ride on these buses for a month or so and let me know how you feel afterwards… I’m willing to bet you’d feel like puking worse than I did that one night when I had seven too many Jager Bombs…

Fuckers!

So there I was, at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport in the Philippines ready to board my flight to Australia. I was eager and excited to see some kangaroos and koalas! Well, actually, that’s an understatement… I was ECSTATIC, THRILLED, EUPHORIC, RAPTUROUS and even SUPERCALIFRAGELISTICEXPEALIDOCIOUSED!

Unfortunately, the lady at the front counter did not share my enthusiasm…

This land-stewardess-clerk-person-thingy, or whatever you call them, was clearly having a bad day. All she had to do was take my passport, check-in my bags and print out my ticket. But nooooooo, she wanted to be Mrs. Frowny Face with me.

Living in the Philippines has been like a box of chocolates… Now pardon the “Forest Gump” cliché, but you really never know what you’re gonna get out here. My days start off with a fun little game where I have to guess between electricity or water as the morning’s missing element. I either don’t have water to shower and brush my teeth, or I won’t have electricity to turn on anything that remotely reminds me of the 20^th century. I’ve started to call this game “Fu*k Me!™”.  I got that name from the first words that come out of my mouth when I’m reminded that I’m playing.

Now it isn’t all that bad, I get to do other things at home when these “daily natural occurrences” happen. For example, I still get to brush my teeth by using some chilled drinking water from the fridge; I’m resourceful like that (unless of course we run out of drinking water, then that’s a whole different game called “Fu*k Me in the Desert!™”.) On the other hand, when it’s electricity that’s missing, I simply scream my guts out into my pillow and then do my best to think happy thoughts ‘til I can again bask in the glory of television reruns.

My body has done a great job of adapting to this game as well. Yes, Darwin was right when he talked about evolution. For one thing, my body has evolved to help me deal with the heat. Days without electricity calls for drastic measures. No electricity means, not only no internet porn, but no air conditioning or fans as well. Thus the sophisticated temple (with massive guns) that I call “my body,” has since adapted to this dilemma. I now have sweat glands on my eyeballs, my toe nails and possibly even my asshole.

Ah, what a fun filled stay I’ve had so far. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow might bring!

Hold on…. 

Is that rust coming out of the faucet….?!?!?!

Ohhh fu*k me!™…

Less than 24 hours into my Asian Invasion and I’m already puking my guts out. How did I end up here, next to my brother’s red rice rocket’s right rear wheel tire (say that five times fast)… standing over a puddle of my own puke? Let’s try and retrace my steps shall we…

Leaving San Diego wasn’t an easy decision. The sun, the surf and the tanned beach bodies were all weighing me down and telling me that leaving is a bad idea. Nevertheless, I stowed away my surfboards, locked up my Camaro and went “leaving on a jet plane.”

I arrived sometime past midnight. I was immediately hit by a wall of heat and humidity that came out of nowhere. To the window, to the wall, ’til the sweat drops down my…. forehead… I could feel my sweat glands in overdrive already, and I just stepped off the plane. 

It was already about 2am by the time I got home. I spent the rest of the night catching up with my siblings. My sister was really excited to see me. It was her birthday the week before and she decided to move her birthday party a week late so that I could come join her and meet her friends that week. 

Fast forward half a day later and I find myself with my buddies, Jody and Jackson, who take me to their new favorite, authentic Filipino restaurant: Hooters. Now please forgive my friends, you see, Hooters just opened their very first branch in Manila a few weeks before my arrival. There’s something about that place that just keeps these guys coming back. I’m not sure if it’s the friendly family atmosphere, the great tasting food or the amazing service. Then again, it’s probably the BIG, LUSCIOUS… wings… they serve there. 

0.05 seconds upon arrival, my friends don’t hesitate to order up some alcohol. “Three pitchers!” says my friend Jackson.

“What the hell you get three pitchers for?” I squealingly ask.

“One each!” proclaimed Jackson. 

I do my best to try and convince my friends that despite my crazy facebook pictures and my flamboyant over exaggerations, that I’m actually a lightweight and can’t drink that much. The words “PUSSY” and “LAME” suddenly became an important adjective to describe my actions of trying not to drink. 

Alas, I am only a man, and peer pressure is a bitch! 

Six pitchers later, my other good friends arrive. Again, peer pressure lurked its way down to my side…. just like my uncle did when I was in 2^nd grade…. 

“What? Americans can’t drink?!!??!?” screamed Mark.

“Well technically I’m Asian…. I don’t think my passport has anything to do with my drinking ability… or lack thereof…” I pleaded.

“Pussy!” said Chinky.

“OK OK OK!” I sighed, “I’ll drink if Malou drinks!” 

An awkward pause and a silence like I’ve never heard prevailed over the table for a few seconds. My friends stared at me as if I had signed my own death warrant, and that I did. 

“Dude, you challenged the wrong person.” whispered Oliver. 

Malou took two Jager Bombs without even flinching. Of course, to add more alcohol to it, instead of dropping Jager into Redbull, she decides to drop it into a glass of beer… how considerate of her… Of course, I had to do the same. The rest of the time we’re at Hooters was a blur to me. 

Next thing I know, my dinner tells me that it wants to get some fresh air… I’m about to puke. 

I’m in the front seat of Jody’s car and I barely muster the coordination to open Jody’s door. To my luck, there is a cop in a motorcycle passing right by me, and I ALMOST HIT HIM as I violently swing the car door open!

 The officer swerves and barely misses the random opening door on the road. Of course I’m oblivious to this as I’m just puking my guts out the side. Jody later on tells me that the cop turns his lights and siren on, stops right in front of the car, looks at me puking, shakes his head in utter rage, and just leaves…. Thank god I’m in the Philippines! 

We barely make it to my place and again, I’m puking next to the right rear wheel tire of my brother’s red rice rocket. Standing over a puddle of my own puke, it hits me! 

My sister’s birthday party….!!!!! 

“Guuyyyyyssss…. Meeee is need to gooooingg now toooo sistaaa parteeeee….” I drunkenly slur. 

I tried to walk, I tried to get going, but I could barely stand up straight without having to puke again. So I end up calling my sister and giving the worst drunken apology in the world…. 

“Iiiiiiiiiiammmmmmmmsooooooooooosssssoooooorrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy?” I try to say in an understandable dialect. 

I felt like the worst brother in the world. I felt so bad that I had to puke…. or maybe that was just the Jager again. 

Anyway, I end up apologizing multiple times the next day and promising my sister a full on shopping spree which for some reason, made everything better. In the end, it’s the lesson that really counts. I learned that you should never, under any circumstances, fall victim to peer pressure, unless of course, you’re with your peers.

 Oh and never challenge Malou again!!!  

If a picture paints a thousand words… then why am I speecheless when I look at these…

I am now a FIRM believer that everyone must visit New Zealand at least once before you kick the bucket. 

This beautiful country hosts only 4 million people. I literally saw more sheep there than I did people. Some of those sheep were hot though…. *wink*

The greatest thing about NZ is nature; untouched, unhampered, pure nature. Everywhere you go is some sort of national park or protected land. The people of New Zealand care more about nature than anywhere else I’ve been in the world. Proof of this is in the roads. NZ roads are very dangerous because they are all narrow and bendy. They twist and turn and go all around because they were built specifically to avoid disrupting the natural grounds. Instead of drilling a tunnel through a mountain, they would build roads that go up, down, around and everywhere else to ensure minimal tampering with the natural environments. Moreover, most of its roads, including freeways (or what they call motorways) only have one lane.

You can tell that people here love nature because of the constant areas you can stop along the road where there’ll be a view of the mountains, lakes, rivers or any part of nature. Many of these stops would also have some type information as to the significance of these landmarks. Even better, there will be trails that you can explore and see even more breathtaking sights. The trails will also be marked with the length of time it takes to return to your starting point.  

The pictures I took, BEAUTIFUL as they may be, do not even come close to doing justice to how beautiful it really is if you were actually there. Every body of water is so clear that you could see the bottom of them. Also, the water is really really blue because of a microscopic mineral from the glaciers that gets mixed in with the rivers, lakes and streams when these glaciers melt. Just adding that little bit more of magic to enhance your stay in NZ. 

New Zealand, in one word, is “magical.” If you love the outdoors, you NEED to visit this place! 

This is my first visit to New Zealand but definitely not the last. Besides, there’s this one sheep that really caught my eye…. 

 
“It looked like there were two skies one on top of the other…I couldn’t tell where heaven stopped and the earth began. It was so beautiful.” — Forest Gump

After spending some time in the land Down Under, hanging out with the blokes and the shielas, the kangaroos and the koalas, I’ve found 10 reasons why Australians will, or won’t, rule the world in the very near future…

Why Australians WON’T rule the world in the near future… 

10.       It takes Australians decades to apologize.

• (And I thought my ex-girlfriend was bad…)

9.         They drive on the wrong side of the road.

• (Driver’s seat on the right side of the car… while driving on the left side of the road… I almost had head on collisions multiple times…)

8.         The rest of the world thinks that Fosters is “Australian for beer!”

• (Ewwwww)

7.         Their most famous singer is Kylie Minogue.

• (Ummm… yeah…)

6.         Historic landmark “The 12 Apostles” only has 11 Apostles left…

• (Next thing you know, the Sydney Opera House will be gone too, then the Great Wall of China… that’s in Australia right?)

5.         There is no good Mexican food!

• (It’s like hell… only worse)

4.         EVERYTHING closes at 5pm.

• (I just wanted to check out the mall after work…. Is that too much to ask for!?!??! You monsters!!!!)

3.         Their leaders, The Crocodile Hunter and Heath Ledger have passed away.

• (The world mourns your loss, why couldn’t the gods have taken Kylie instead?!?!?!)

2.         Mardi Gras in Australia is actually a gay parade where men dress as women.

• (What happened to good ol’ beads and titties? The horror!)

1.         You can’t understand what the hell they’re talking about.

• (I reckon that the mates downunder are fair dinkum though some of em blokes still have kangaroos loose in the top paddock…. )

Why Australians WILL rule the world in the near future… 

10.       Australians have an army of Rugby players who are pretty much like WWE wrestlers who aren’t faking it when they tackle you, and are like NFL players without the pads. They could probably kill you by slapping you with their pinky…

• (Saw a Rugby game and dude, those guys are GIGANTOUS!)

9.         Passing cars warn you by flashing their brights on if they saw cops.

• (Now that’s brotherhood!)

8.        Australians can tolerate the ancient form of torture used in World War I, Vegemite!

• (I know Navy Seals that could not tolerate this kind of torture…)

7.         Hot girls with hot accents.

• (I could not ask for more.)

6.         They supposedly wear thongs on their feet too.

• (I love thongs… so still waiting to see a sexy Australian girl in feet thongs…)

5.         Potato Wedges with Sour Cream and Sweet Chilli Saouce!!!

• (Mmmmmmmmmm best invention ever!!!)

4.         Coopers Beer, brewed in the bottle!

• (Every other beer in the world has a “Best Before” date… well Coopers has a “Best AFTER” date to let you know when the beer is brewed. Tastes like heaven in a bottle!)

3.         Everything is tax inclusive, and they don’t use pennies. 

• (A $3 burger at McDees is exactly that… $3!!! Not $3.59 after adding tax…)

2.         No need to tip!!!

• (F-ing AMAZING!!! I don’t have to tip 15% for bad service!!! No tips at restaurants, for valets, not even for the strip clubs!!!…. well…. so I heard….)

1.         Lindt Chocolate Café

• (OK so it’s Swiss chocolate, but I heard the first café opened in Australia… and OMG, the Hot Chocolate is breathtaking!! It was like magic melting in my mouth… my friend Gloria get’s that a lot, but I’m sure this one is much much tastier… *wink*  YOU NEED TO COME TO AUSTRALIA AND TRY A CUP OF HOT CHOCOLATE AT THE LINDT CHOCOLATE CAFÉ BEFORE YOU DIE!!!)

let’s do a line (Thailand stories part 1)

My stubbornness, attention deficit disorder and inability to fall in line has gotten me into another tough situation, to say the least. 30-minutes into my arrival at Thailand and I’m already getting screamed at by some crazy Thai guy and his friend as I sit in the back of their heavily tinted car.

Let’s rewind 30 minutes earlier…..

Upon arrival at the beautiful Bangkok Airport, the first sign of the English language reads “Welcome to Thailand – The Land of Smiles!” I walk up to this sign and underneath it, find a very grumpy looking old man who obviously did not get the memo about the new marketing slogan. I hand this man my passport and attempted to smile at him while he (whom I will now refer to as Grumpy Bear) stamps my papers, gives me the death stare and shoves me off to the next line.

After getting in line to meet Grumpy Bear, who then sends me off to the immigration line, after which I again wait in line for my baggage – I finally arrive at another line, for a taxi. This is the part where my absolute inability to tolerate lines goes haywire and I rush out a different door to asses the situation and see what other options I have. I skip the entire line of about 30 people and head outside. You say karma; I say efficiency.

Outside, there are only two things:
        1. The front of the long taxi line
        2. Some guy outside the airport gate screaming towards me asking if I wanted a taxi.

My heart was saying no, but my body, my body was saying yes….

I cross the street and ask the guy if he can take me to Khao San Road, the ultimate backpackers paradise in Bangkok where tourists, locals, hotels, bars and clubs can all be found on one amazing road. The taxi screaming guy demonstrates his superior understanding of the English language while simultaneously telling me to jump over the fence. I realize that this may cause a commotion and tell him that I’d rather walk around it since the end of the fence didn’t seem too far.

At the fence’s end, I find a heavily tinted dark blue car with a driver in it while the taxi screaming guy (whom we will now refer to as Shitface), pops up behind me and tells me to hop in. Again demonstrating his fluent control of the English language.

So I take a time out from reality and jump into my own world called “Vince’s Logical Land.” Don’t worry if you never heard about it, it’s not a big tourist place and there really isn’t much to do there anyway.

While in “Vince’s Logical Land,” I assess the situation; I take note of the heavily tinted car with two guys in it and no signs of being a taxi, nor any signs of being friendly.

My Spider-Sense concludes that this is probably how many horror movies start.

As much as I’d like to star in my own film, “The Bangkok Chainsaw Massacre,” I actually decide that I should get back to the airport and wait in line for a real taxi. And that’s when my old friend, A.D.D., shows up.

Vince: “Oh dude cool music, I love that song with the boots and the fur and all that, reminds me of San Diego,”
Shitface: “Yes, very good music, you go in car now, I take you to your hotel.”
Vince: “Sounds good.”

In the heavily tinted car with Shitface and Robin (like in Batman and Robin, but with no Batman), they start the normal chitchat about life, current events and my intelligence level.

Shitface: “You come Bangkok before?”
Vince: “No, this is my absolute first time here, I know nothing about this place or where you’re taking me.” (I didn’t say it exactly like that, but looking back, I pretty much said it as so.)
Shitface: “Very nice.”

Ten minutes into the ride, my good friend Shitface asks me again what hotel I’m staying at.

Vince: “Oh I already told you, the Sawasdee Banglumpoo Inn”
Shitface: “I no understand”
Vince: “You told me you knew where it was a second ago…”
Shitface: “No understand, you have reserve?”

I then show Shitface my hotel reservation with the name of my hotel. He starts talking to Robin in Thai.

Shitface: “Oh, sorry my friend, I think you say different hotel. You hotel very far, cannot take you for only 400 Baht (FYI – 1 US Dollar = 33 Thai Baht).
Vince: “Ok……..”
Shitface: “If you go with airport taxi, cost you very expensive, maybe 3,000 Baht
Vince: “What!? Hell no!”
Shitface: “Yes my friend, but it ok, I give you discount, only 2,000 Baht.”
Vince: “Dude, I was told at the airport by the information desk that it would cost about 400 Baht to get there”
Shitface: “No understand. I take you for 2,000 Baht ok?”
Vince: “Fuck no, take me back to the airport!”

It’s funny how all of a sudden, Shitface’s English becomes selective, meaning he understood some things that benefited him, but did not understand some English if it didn’t do any good for him. Quite a skill he had if you asked me.

We argued for a while, which included Shitface and Robin screaming at me. I hold my ground and tell them that I’m not paying a dime over 400 Baht as discussed. I even ask them to just drop me off right there in the middle of the freeway.

Shitface: “Ok, I take you back airport now.”
Vince: “Sounds good, sorry for any inconvenience.”
Shitface: “How much you pay me to take you airport.”
Vince: “Are you serious?”
Shitface: “You pay me 400 Baht, I take you airport”
Vince: “Fuck no you shitface! You should pay me for wasting my time, I could be out drinking with my friends by now! I’m not paying you to take me back to where I was!”
Shitface: “No understand, ok you pay 400 Baht?”

More arguing continues and Shitface finally says that he would give me the ultimate deal, 600 Baht for him to take me to my hotel. My stubbornness has a reputation of getting me almost killed many times before – why ruin a good streak?

Vince: “NO dude, I’m broke, I don’t have money, I’m not paying you anything more than we discussed!”
Shitface: “Ning nang nong nung blah blah blah!” (He started screaming at me in Thai.)
Vince: “You’re gonna kill me aren’t you?”
Shitface: “Nong nong nang ning” (More screaming in Thai)
Shitface: “Ok, I take you for 400 Baht
Vince: “Thank you, I’m really sorry if there was any sort of misunderstanding…”
Shitface: “You pay now.”
Vince: “What! No! I’ll pay when we get there.”
Shitface: “You pay half now.”
Vince: “NO! I’ll pay you when we get there.”
Shitface: “We no gas, what you do, push car?”
Vince: “So you drove out of your home, with absolutely no gas and no money on you? Well I don’t care, just let me out here.”
Shitface: “Oh my friend, we get you other taxi.”

At this point, I’m reaching in my bag for whatever weapon I can find, just in case.

To my surprise, Shitface and Robin actually stop on a well-lit street, and flag down a cab for me. They then talk to the cab driver, and the cab driver ends up handing Shitface some cash.

I switch cars and the only English my new cab driver speaks is “400 Baht”

We arrive at my hotel and the meter on this “real” cab reads at 200 Baht. I figured that Shitface already took me about 100 Baht worth in distance and the cab just took me the rest of the way. So it probably would have cost me 300 Baht to get there with a real cab had I waited in line at the airport. I’m also guessing that the money the cab driver gave to Shitface was from Shitface telling the cab driver that I would give $400 but they already took me half way there anyway.
 
So, there I was, safe and sound at my hotel. Adrenalin rushing through my veins from the events that just took place.

I drop off my stuff in the room and head towards the nearest bar for a much-deserved drink. Only problem is that there seems to be a line to get in most of the bars close to me….

No wait, there doesn’t seem to be a line for that place down that dark alley….. let’s go check it out…

Smelly, nasty, disease infested feet? Well not to worry, the fish will eat it away….

So we went to the new Manila Ocean Park the other day. It was a lot of fun seeing giant fish, some even bigger than my little sister. I really like going to aquariums, there’s a sense of calm there with fish just floating around and everything just seems tranquil.

At the end of our tour, we went upstairs to check out the Fish Spa. Basically, you dip your feet into a small pool of water, and these little tiny fish come over and nibble on your skin.

No, it doesn’t hurt at all; in fact, it actually just tickles, A LOT.

They’re called Doctor Fish, and they actually help you take care of your skin. See, they eat away all the dead skin as well as any other impurities you may have on the surface. On the other hand, they don’t touch any of your healthy skin.

It took a while for me to get my whole foot into the spa coz it just ticked too much. But it was actually really nice and relaxing after I got used to it. You should’ve seen the fish, they were all over my feet! They were having a damn banquet and it seemed like my feet had the best steaks and lobsters in town! I wonder if I should be proud of that or if that actually means my feet are nasty….

Anyway, what was actually really funny was that the Fish Spa was right next to the Shark tank. With my genius IQ, I might have dipped my feet into the shark tank…. but I guess they do work faster and more efficiently in that tank… ten seconds and all the dirt on your feet will be gone! Well, including your feet that is…

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_fish

There I was at the peak of my career. I had just won two Oscars, seven Golden Globes, a Grammy, my third NBA Championship as well as my fourth Finals MVP, the Martin Luther King award for heroism, received my fifth Pulitzer Prize, my third Nobel Prize and was Playboy’s Playmate of the Year, again. But then I left it all behind, for what? Why? Well this is my story.

*Itch*

As a young man learning karate on filthy streets of La Jolla, I had to learn to survive on my own. It wasn’t easy growing up in that town. I remember a time when I had to eat my caviar without champagne… it was brutal! Somehow, I was able to make it through.

*Itch* *Itch*

I was only a child when I first had to fight off the dreaded paparazzi. It wasn’t easy being a child actor slash model slash football rising star. *Itch* *Itch* *Itch* Today, I look back and realize that my spirit, my very innermost being, who I am today is because of those dreaded days when I had to walk down that catwalk with shoes half a size too big. *Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch* And those nights I had to stay up all night because I had a rock concert where I needed to fill I for the sick guitarist or…. *Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch**Itch*

WHAT THE F*** IS THAT ITCHING!!!!

Oh, it was just a dream…. Damn mosquitoes!!! Where the hell am I? I got mosquito bites everywhere!!! Oh yeah, I’m in the Philippines.

In San Diego, the only things I couldn’t keep off me were girls…. Or was that a dream too….? DAMNIT!

I keep my eyes on the ball, my feet shoulder width apart, knees
slightly bent, left arm held straight, firm grip on my Five Iron and
then I swing away at the driving range. It’s a good hit for a beginner,
I make it over 100 yards, then I look back down, and there’s another
ball already waiting for me.

Next to the ball sits my lovely ball-girl, Chrislin, who’s sole purpose
for the next hour is to sit next to my golfing mat and make sure
there’s always a ball there right after I swing. No, I’m not a
millionaire and no, I’m not a pimp (though some may think differently);
the only thing different about me is that I am currently living in the
Philippines.

I’ve always wanted someone to be in charge of my balls.

I wonder what her resume looks like…

V.P. of Balls – City Golf Manila, Philippines 2006 – 2008

• Managed the proficient handling of clients’ balls to ensure a proper and timely stroke
• Responsible for customers’ balls; making certain they are tended to and cared for
• Trained over 30 interns on the importance and procedures for effective ball handling
• Ensured customer satisfaction

Let me re-emphasize the hilarity of this moment. I paid about 400 Pesos
or about 10 American Dollars for unlimited golf balls at a driving
range. With the balls, comes a tiny little Filipino girl who sits
inches away from my swinging Five Iron to place my golf balls on the
mat for me. Ghetto Superstar, that is what you are… well, that is what
I are… I mean I am… you get it!

No wait, it gets better; out of nowhere, these cardboard ninjas take
over the field. There must have been hundreds of them… well ok, maybe
just three, but it TOTALLY looked like there were hundreds… Anyway, I
start asking my friend what the hell those things are, and he says that
they’re the people who pick up the golf balls from the driving range.
Let me break it down for you, people who wear these huge cardboard
shields on one side, go out there with buckets and pick up the golf
balls from the driving range, one by one. And I was complaining about
my job at Burger King…

So Alvin, Simon and Theodore (yes, I named the cardboard ninjas after
the chipmunks) are out there picking up balls and Chrislin, my
ball-girl is sitting next to my swinging club. I couldn’t help but
realize how different of a place I’m in. I also couldn’t help but to
realize how much we tend to take for granted.

This article is meant to poke fun at the simplicities and commonalities
in everyday life that is often overlooked. It’s really eye opening
after coming back and living in a culture where people are DESPERATE
for a job. The economy is really poor here and people are struggling
just to survive. Hopefully one day, I can somehow make this world a
better place than when I found it; but for now, we’ll laugh at
ourselves and realize how spoiled, pampered and lucky we are to be able
to complain about our jobs that allow us to live a very comfortable
lifestyle.