the shirt off Valencia's back...

Casaroro Falls

No more will UC me donning the beautous blue Clap Your Hands Say Yeah T-shirt; it's met a sad but inevitable fate. The sacred shirt served me well in travel battle and caused a respectable amount of people 2 make themselves look silly or stare stupidly...nice work blue...RIP CYHSY.

After my nudey nip below Casaroro Falls (Valencia, Negros), I decided 2 wash the sweat soaked/stained T--like the hippie I ostensibly am--in nature's gentle cycle; however, mama nature decided 2 test my dedication to hippiehood and stole away with the cherished garment. Suddenly, I was the silly lookin' one as I dropped my daypack and slid into the fast flow to sweep the theif's toes, but b4 I got entirely wet (head to spare) I could no longer C my T. I tried a couple profesional T rescuing techniques, but in the end I had 2 let 'er go...free after all.

Nude with Nipples, can't see the dimples

I ascended the 335 steps thinking how the hell am I gonna manage walking topless thru that conservative village and the jeepney ride back 2 the city of Dumaguete--"Arrongant Americans", I could hear whispered--and at the same time my eyes kept diverting themselves to the river in hopes mama would say, "Clap Your Hands...I'm BACK!!!" It took me the full hour's hike back 2 come up with f!*k all. I moped down the hill thru the village already encountering a few older women making their opinions known by their facial expressions and snorts when I came upon a fire station with the crew in front playing ping-pong. I thought, "I've done this before...let's give 'er a go."

I applied the learned sales techniques acquired in Cutco Class and established rapport before telling them that I have a friend who's a firemen (which I do) and that he collects fireman's shirts around the world (which he does) and that I'd be greatful if they might bless "his" collection with one of their eponymous shirts. Fortunately, I'm in the Philippines and the philippino is a straight up class human being, Valencia being no exception. They sooo managed a beautiful, though not clean nor aromaticly pleasant, addition to my friend Baca's shirt collection, and it fit beautifully over my belly. So far, I've only managed a shirt from Weed Fire Dept. and this one...but surely Baca's greatful.

The Crew n' Con

Rags 2 Riches or more aptly condemned naked vagrant to respected (ostensible) fire chief walking thru the city.

I purchased and slowly ate a sweet, delicious mango in the park...holding my head high for the skills obtained and used in a man's road to nowhere...and to there I go.