BoLOL Recap

First of all, let me go on record that writing about vacations is really not my favorite thing to do. This is largely because 1.) I don’t want to bore you guys to shit by writing daily play by plays like “On my first day in Bohol…On my second day in Bohol…On my third day in Bohol…” because really, only boring-ass newbie bloggers do that and 2.) I’m lazy. So yeah.

Besides, my vacation is one big soup bowl of being drunk, being hung-over, gluttony and sunburn so there’s really not much I can write about. I will, however, try to write a mildly amusing, easily digestible summary for you:

Airports and Lines.

It’s been a long time since I last flew a domestic flight and, much to my surprise, long lines which I previously believed to be exclusive to Somalian food distribution lines and UN Malaria-vaccination missions also exist in Philippine airports.

Honestly, I don’t mind the wait. After all, I had my girlfriend with me and that fact makes the wait bearable. Also, the bottle of rum I imbibed the night before our flight made sure that all cognizant thought, sense of time and my manners were wiped clean from my brain.

This also meant that I was only capable of standing and moving through the line with the help of  metal barricades and basically spent most of the wait looking down women’s blouses and heinies. Not too nice.

Hot Young European Chick (HYEC)

Dear Cheryl,

I don’t know if you remember me. But we stood together waiting for our luggage over at the Tagbilaran Airport.  You also might not remember giving me your name and that’s because you didn’t. I looked at your luggage card and wrote your name down on a piece of paper. I hope you do not find this creepy because I did all this because of passion. A passion that comes from deep inside (my loins).

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how beautiful I think you are and how you should consider flying to Manila to live with me or at least let me photograph you wearing my underwear.

The only qualm I have with all of this is that you look like and probably are 13 years old. If this is the case, let it go on record that I am only joking about taking pictures of you in my underwear. As we all know, that is illegal and if you’ve been reading my blog long enough, you’d know that Mike “Fucking” Villar absolutely respects the law.

So Cheryl, good luck with Algebra. I know it could be ball numbingly hard at times but if you study those formulas hard enough, you’ll pass. I know did.

Love,
Mikey

Mikey + Cheap Food + Cheap Booze = Bad motherfucking idea.

We all know how much I love eating and drinking but the eating and drinking I did in Bohol went a little overboard. I’m talking about huge main courses, dozens of alcoholic drinks AND packs and packs of cigarettes all day, everyday.

Caucasian Families are like weird.

Since the girlfriend and I were probably the only Filipino tourists in Bohol during our stay, I had a field day making fun of and stereotyping the non-Filipino tourists with us in Bohol.

From what I observed, the typical caucasian family consists of:

• A Father. Who’s arrogant, wears a gold watch, barks orders at his wife and kids from a beach chair and sunbathes to a point where his skin turns disturbingly red.
• A mother. Who usually have sagging breasts and a perfect golden tan. I swear to fucking God, caucasian women have abnormally perfect tans that it took a great deal of restraint on my part not to walk up to them, rub their skin with my fingers to see if their tans were real and asking them “Were you involved in some sort of freak nuclear accident?”
• Daughters who are in their late teens to their early twenties. Of course, these girls look like absolute sex kitten, looked like they have boyfriends who look like 50 Cent and of course, like their parents, they speak in a retarded non-English language.

Bohol is a beautiful, peaceful place.

I just want to say that I completely fell in love with the beach’s natural, non-commercialized beauty. (That has got to be the gayest thing I have ever written -Ed)

I mean as opposed to Boracay where all you see on the beach are tattooed, gym-going douchebags fucking their slutbag girlfriends while drinking cans of low-calorie beer.

That’s all I have for now. Pictures from my trip can be found here.

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