Getting “Settled” In Manila

Since I’m going not to be back in the US of A until mid-April, I had to hit my favorite taco stand before I left San Diego. La Post Latina has the best fucking carne asada on earth. In true “fuck the diet, I’m traveling” spirit, I ordered up the Carne Asada Burrito Especial which is basically a quesadilla used to wrap up a huge burrito. So instead of one tortilla, the carne asada, guacamole, salsa, sour cream and cheese are surrounded by a tortilla, a layer of melted cheese, and another tortilla. It’s like the Mexican’s got tired of getting fucked by Montezuma’s Revenge and created a burrito specifically designed to give Gringo’s diarrhea.

As usual so I don’t get mega-jetlagged, I stayed up all night before the trip packing and left San Diego at 4AM to drive up to Los Angeles to catch my flight out. I make it up to LA around six in the morning. I stop by McDonald’s for breakfast. At this point I’m already ripping the most horrible farts. There were two homeless guys in the upstairs dining room sleeping. My creeping death air biscuits actually woke them up. You know it’s bad when a bum tells you that you stink.

Getting checked in and obtaining a boarding pass was a real bitch. As I’m picking up my bags to put them on the scale, the strain just about drains my bowels of all gas in one lethal launch. I felt like such a bastard. “Excuse me mam, I know you’re trying not to pass out from the stench I just forced you to endure, but would you mind checking to see if there’s an exit row seat available for me?” I’m surprised she didn’t give me my own row after experiencing first-hand the nasal damage I can inflict.

To ensure I didn’t get murdered at 30,000 feet I hit the toilet before boarding and forced out what I could. It was a stinky, juicy Fluffy / Hershey Squirt dump that took forever to deliver. Why no picture? Fucking technology robbed me! I get up to take the pic, I’m lining it up, I start to hit the shutter button, and the fucking toilet flushes itself! The infrared sensor noticed I’d left the seat and decided to send my submission to Davey Jones’ Locker.

I’m glad I forced some production before I boarded as the guy I wound up sitting next to for ten hours was pretty cool. We’re shooting the shit, talking about me working on the internet. I don’t tell him who I am as I’m too tired to get into telling stories from the glamorous wonderful word of an internet pornographer. Eventually we’re talking about how I “run entertainment websites that make money by selling ads” and he starts asking questions about the business side of it. He’s like “so sometimes I’ve seen videos that people can click, like on one site I go to all the time: ConsumptionJunction.com”. I just start cracking up. I ask if he visits that site often. Turns out he’s a daily visitor. I explain I’m the founder of the site. Turns out he’s a huge fan. So I’m glad I wasn’t ripping bombs on him all night.

I make a three hour layover in Japan go by quickly by eating some killer Udon noodles with shrimp tempura on top. I head over to the “day spa” where you can take a full shower for only $5. Finally it’s time for boarding. Folks, I gotta point something out here that may sound racist. Japanese people that work in the airline industry are fucking stupid! Every time I fly through that airport I wonder how the fuck the Japanese get the rep of being so damn smart. Last time I flew through they had like 300 people lined up heading in one direction. The woman working the gate goes around the curve of the hallway to the far opposite side of where everyone is lined up. She holds a sign “now boarding rows 60 and higher”. Of course, this mental midget is around the corner for where everyone is AND she’s got the sign facing away from everyone. They won’t start boarding until everyone lines up the way they want but she’s 100% invisible to the crowd of passengers. I go over and suggest that maybe she should take the sign to where everyone is or AT LEAST turn the fucking sign around so people can see it. She ignores me. After ten minutes some “senior management” person realizes I might be onto something and goes to retrieve the sign and walk it thru the crowd of people. DUH. I couldn’t resist a big fat “I TOLD YOU” as the first twat walks by.

So this time, they decided fuck bothering with any type of order. They board the first class and then say “now boarding economy class”. That’s it. No order. No trying to fill the back of the plane first. Just “if ya got a ticket, get your ass on the plane”. So of course it takes forever to board and the flight leaves thirty minutes late. This is supposed to be a society that’s known to be big into rules, organization, and efficiency. Shit, the lazy ignorant fucks in the Atlanta airport have more sense than the Japs.

I got into the Philippines around 11:30PM last night. I head to the office to say hello to the night shift and do a quick scan of my emails. I show the crew this site. They’re properly grossed out and curious. Ten minutes later I feel a butt-brew knocking on my back door. I tell them I’m out as I’ve gotta go “make a post to my site” which is my now my standard way of saying I gotta take a dump. As I expected, all that junk food I gobbled up during the twenty-something hours of travel time made for a creative contribution to the Manila city sewers!

Getting

Fortunately, we have a really phat apartment. It’s got two bedrooms and four toilets! My master bedroom used to be two bedrooms and they converted into one. So it’s got like a living room area in the bedroom and two walk in closets, each which are attached to full bathrooms. One bathroom for me and one for the hookers! Best of all, all the toilets have the best invention ever:

The Greatest Invention Ever!

I call the gf, let her know I’m fine and then crash. I’m fucking exhausted. I got like six hours total sleep on the plane but it wasn’t comfortable and I’d been up for like forty-eight hours. I’m asleep for exactly three minutes and seven seconds when I hear “MARC, GET UP! WE KNOW YOU”RE HERE, WE BROUGHT YOU TITS!!” Shit, so much for sleep. See, there’s a whole crew of American’s over here in Manila. Lots of my dirty internet pornographer buddies. One of them apparently had keys to the corporate apartment. They came in with seven hookers. One, hand-picked for me because of her ginormous fun bags was eager to meet me. See if you can guess which one is her:

Lucky Man!

And here’s what I looked like right after they woke me up:

I Can't Believe I'm Awake!

So, everyone was massively disappointed to hear that I’m 1) too exhausted to party, 2) that I’ve quit drinking, and 3) that I’m refusing to play with hookers till my gf gets there. My buddy Terrence was like, but I bar-fined that huge tit chick just for you! The not cheating on my gf took the most explaining. I had to explain that my situation is different. It’s not that my gf would have a problem w/ me fucking hookers. She would just be pissed that she missed it. I got them to accept it when they understood that my gf would be here in twelve days and I promised that we could all play together when she gets here. Besides, I was exhausted and my buddy Ryan was asleep upstairs in the spare bedroom and I didn’t want to wake him up with the auditory assault that accompanies me fucking five hookers.

I am pretty fucking proud of myself as some these were real hotties:

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

Fun, Fun, Fun

So that’s about it. A day in the life of Marc :) Now I’m going to call my assistant to get him to bring me Starbucks, then heading to Makati Cinema Square to buy a shit-ton of movies on DVD for a whopping $1.10 a pop. Buying every movie nominated for an Oscar will cost less than a latte at a Starbucks in the USA! Fuck I love this country!

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