Saturday, August 30, 2008

Re: Rednecks

J Dub, you may have already researched this. (all wikied here)

In any case, for future reference, The Battle of Blair Mountain seems a likely contributor to the term redneck.

See also The Solemn League of the Convenant, a Scottish pro Presbyterian group who

"... rejected episcopacy — rule by bishops — the preferred form of church government in England. Many of the Covenanters signed these documents using their own blood, and many in the movement began wearing red pieces of cloth around their neck to signify their position to the public. They were referred to as rednecks."

furthermore..

"Large numbers of these Scottish Presbyterians ... soon settled in considerable numbers in North America throughout the 18th century. Some emigrated directly from Scotland to the American colonies in the late 18th and early 19th-centuries as a result of the Lowland Clearances. This etymological theory holds that since many Scots-Irish Americans and Scottish Americans who settled in Appalachia and the South were Presbyterian, the term was bestowed upon them and their descendants."

So, the next time you run into Ms. Merica you can hit with this shizznit.

Beyond the environment

video
Maritime Engineering Standards.
Minimum crew requirements.

What went wrong?







Apples
MacIntosh

I've been on vacation this past week with my wife in Penghu. Thanks, Sean, for the advice. More later after I get my daguerreotypes developed, but I'm a little low on mercury right now. So, just two quick notes.

  • If you go to a bar, at least have a drink. Then you can have some sort of excuse. I was at PJ's talking to Brit Paul when we were educated - unwillingly - by two young Americans. One male the other female. Mr. America asked where I was from and I told him Texas. He then called me a cracker. I asked where he was from and he said Georgia. I called him nothing because my jaw wouldn't return upward to start forming words. Talking to Ms. America, he apologized for saying yall. I told him that it was a colloquialism. Then it was his turn for his jaw to stop working. After a few seconds, he recovered and continued his grammar lesson. He told Ms. America that ain't is in the dictionary! Thanks, I'll work that into my next class. But he wasn't finished. We then learned that "only rednecks say ain't." I didn't know Ice T was a redneck.

Here she comes. Ms. A-mer-i-ca!

Did you know that "redneck" comes from Afrikaans? My boyfriend
is from South Africa and he told me it originated there and was brought to
America during the slave trade.

No, I didn't. Is class dismissed? Please?

Friday, August 29, 2008

NFL has a China website

NFL China...

Hmmm, it also has a TV listing page.

If I can watch NFL in China but not Taiwan that would be depressing.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

The Stanley Cup in Antigonish

The Stanley Cup came to visit my hometown in August. Here is a pic of my friend and his brother wearing NHL game worn jerseys. Paul Maclean on the left once wore the jerseys. He is now an assistant coach with Detroit. Here is the brief news/interview

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Seen Tonight in Taichung

Obama 08 bumper sticker

on a Mercedes Benz of course.

...which is my segue into this story...

I still regret never putting the greatest political bumper sticker I have ever owned on my car in Taiwan. Yes, you guessed it, that would be my

"FÜR FÜRST & VATERLAND"

bumper sticker, proudly revealing that I did indeed support the Prince of Liechtenstein's 2003 referendum to change the constitution of that principality.

and yeah, it is weird to be in a German-speaking country and watch people read the Vaterland newspaper right in front of you. You have to keep reminding yourself that the Swiss (and Liechtensteiners) were neutral and its okay for them to use the word fatherland.


To all non sporting fans

We tend to post a lot of sports (here at Nihowdy. However, I know some of our loyal readers (of which there are scores I'm sure) are put off by the stories and quickly pass on to Chaon or the Professor when another Texas-Texas Tech rivalry erupts on the board. For those readers, I give to you this sports article, not because of its position in an ongoing war of words between J-Hole and myself, but because it says something deeply troubling about our panzy ass society here in the United States. Ponce needs to get one of his big ole army boots out and take it to the ass of the little league chairman in New Haven, CT.

Seven 2 Eight

BEIJING (AP) -- In a game that wasn't supposed to be about politics -- not at all, fans kept insisting -- politics seemed to be everywhere.

It was in the talk about flags, and in the vehemence of the cheering when China grabbed the lead at Beijing's Olympic baseball stadium. It was in chatter about how important it was to succeed in this particular game.



The fans.......



missed it by that much...

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Baseball?

Did Taiwan really lose to China in baseball? If so, do we blame Chen or Ma?

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Lupus? Is it Lupus?

I tried to put my motorcycle helmet on this morning and it didn't fit right.

It was tight and uncomfortable in spots.

The helmet appears undamaged, so logically it must be that my head changed overnight.

Maybe some fast growing skull cancer.

Seriously, how can a piece molded styrofoam in a plastic shell fit loosely on my head one day and then suddenly become out of whack the next?

I'm blaming Chen Shui-Bian for now, but if anyone has a better idea, let me know.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Transporter 4



It's all got to get somewhere...... but where??







The old transporter in the box trick:)

Monday, August 18, 2008

Clean nursing of home



Ya just kinda wonder?






KAOS

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Georgia v. Russia Redoux

When I visited T'blisi some ten years ago, Georgia was without question in the worst situation of any of the former Soviet Republics I had visited. Meat and basic food stuffs were difficult to find, the local Russian dominated Mafia controlled everything from the military down to the corner shops, and the people walked with their heads down so as to stay out of trouble. It was so bad, neighboring Armenians came to Georgia to buy clothing cheaply and then return with that clothing to Armenia to sell on the streets. You know your country is not doing so well when Armenia is using it like Californians use Mexico.*

The mountainous region in the northern portion of the country was spectacular however, and climbing in the Caucuses one could forget about the abandoned brick structures in Batum, the locals shitting in the same abandoned buildings because there was no plumbing, and the crime which made you fear walking around the streets of T'blisi. Granted even in remote outposts were Russian whores controlled by Russian Mafia, but that's no different than Taichung, L.A. or Macau I reckon.

But I guess times have changed and now Georgia is dealing with a bit of prosperity, based in no small part to their strategic position connecting the Caspian oil fields and the user friendly nation of Turkey. The Russian Mafia may have even left T'blisi, though I'm sure that they've been replaced by a Georgian version of the same. The United States has given military assistance, supported a Western educated president, and utilized Georgian forces in Iraq.

This link
provides the best summation of the conflict I have come across. For me, South Osettia and Abkazia were no go areas. I was able to sneak into Russia on the back of a truck and loop around Northern Georgia, but there was no entering the area from the Georgian side because they had declared de facto independence. It would have been as difficult as going into Nagorno-Karabagh in Azjerbjan/Armenia. So now, with the world watching the Olympics, the Georgians have tried to pull a fast one and reenter areas which had long ago abandoned the Georgian federation in order to restore territorial integrity. Maybe they are right, maybe they are wrong. But they have messed with a military far more powerful than their own with the expected western support nowhere to be found, meaning that gamble is looking worse by the day.

As the author points out in the article, it is a bit ironic that a nation which joined in an invading force in Iraq is now complaining about a similar invasion of their own homeland. Granted their participation in Iraq was probably more of a contract of adhesion than a willing choice to defeat tyrrany, but that hardly removes the irony.


*with the current depriciation of the dollar, perhaps the Mexicans will soon be coming to Laredo to spend their pesos.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Mom and Pop's: 大墩14街266號


Easy to find. Just follow the glass of beer. I am there M-W-F, from about 4:00 to 6:00 or so.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Summer Vacation




Lake Grapevine, Tx.
A little of the other liquid exercise...




Would you believe?


A way to retake Palawan

I'm not sure about all this AA shit the old fogies at Chaon are talking about, nor am I sure who 'started' the war between Russia and Georgia. However, I can tell you the new blueprint has been laid for disrupting territorial integrity:

1. have a bunch of ethnic minorities living in one area

2. claim the federal government is suppressing their rights even when they live in an autonomous region (the Ossetians have been relatively autonomous since Georgian nationhood).

3. claim genocide (as Vlad the Impaler did and now Georgia is doing back).

Wow, the lessons of Kosovo -- the blueprint to invade your neighbor. I vote the Nihowdy gang go back to Palawan. We could bitch about how the lack of Lone Star beer and good hamburgers violates our rights as obese Americans/Canadianerers.* We could sacrifice Red A** to the cause by having him get drunk and given the clap by some gogo girls. We could then claim the Philipinos are commiting an ethnic genocide against those of North American decent (they just killed off a fifth of our population!). Call in the gunboats and Palawan is ours!!! The great thing about this plan: we don't even need to take Zha Zha hostage (as with the original plan). Hell, Red A will at least enjoy the process of getting the clap.

*Brit Paul and Ricardo Bald Titty are not welcome. We don't need Brits mixing up the pure North American bloodlines
** sorry RedA, you are welcome to find a substitute. you bid us adieu on our way to the airport but couldn't make the trip, so you are the first one cut.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

The Olympics Are Great!

I can sit on my duff at work and Yahoo tells me that the USA now has 16 Gold medals and leads the field. I think I'll celebrate my (country's) athletic prowess with another diet Coke. Urrp!

I did accidentally watch some Women's team archery on TV. This is one of those events that the American networks supposedly don't cover because we don't have a chance.

Well, it made for riveting TV. These women have these hi-tech bows that come with tripod rests and they bring them up, string to their chin and then release. The camera then cuts to another close up of the target. Basically everyone gets very close to a bulls eye and you never see a arrow really fly. You just see a close up of a woman's face with a string on her chin and then an arrow pops into the target.

And in archery, where the action is, fundamentally, a tiny twitch of the fingers, closer is better and close-up is best of all. So in Beijing, there is a camera on rails at their archers’ feet. A third of the way down the range, three huts hide cameras that capture every twitch of their facial muscles and every wobble of their bow as they fire. When the athletes peek through their binoculars, they should be able to make out the camera lens buried in the bulls-eye. There is even a camera with super slow-motion that makes visible the frequent bucks, wriggles and skids in the flight of the arrows, as the arc through the air at 200-kilometers, or 125 miles, an hour.
Apparently the Taiwanese TV channel didn't pay for the premium feed, because all we got was the facial close up and then the arrow arriving in the target. No slow motion of the arrows at all.

South Korea beat the Chinese to win the Gold.

Southern Command: Mom and Pop's


For the most part, we have moved from the Fairies - on the corner of Carbon and Monoxide, as Dean puts it - to a Mom and Pop store. Even cheaper Gold Medal beer. As you can see, they are well-stocked and awaiting the apocalypse or the commie invasion.




Secure meeting area with table.




Beverage case to heaven.

This meeting table comes supplied with everything.

Look around at this world we've made
Equality our stock in trade
Come and join the Brotherhood of Man
Oh, what a nice, contented world
Let the banners be unfurled
Hold the Red Star proudly high in hand.

Monday, August 11, 2008

R o a n o k e




Texas Motor Speedway ....
Redneck city:)


3





Missed it by that much

Sunday, August 10, 2008

L a w t o n



O k l a h o m a......
Middle of B F E!

Heart shaped hot tubs, Subway........ and..... PJ's?


123 main st.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Philippines Trip: The Green Room Redux

When travelling in the Philippines, I am usually forced to stay one or two nights in Manila. Thanks to Bread, I stay at a cheap, $350 peso-a-night lodge called the Townhouse. This time I stayed in the same room that Bread and I stayed in on our return from El Nido and Puerto Galera, the Green Room.

Having watched all the TV I could in the lounge area, I decided to hit the hay around 11:00 and get up bright and early at 6:00 and go to the airport. Lights out for me, but next door in the Front Room, someone is watching Star TV. I don't know how their picture is, but there is nothing wrong with the sound.

I snooze lightly for about an hour and them am completely awakened by Wow-Wow-Wee! Wow-Wow-Wee! coming from the Front Room. This is a Filipino game show that gives away soap, aspirin and houses. I know this because the 3-hour bus ride to Manila showed it continuously.

All around the Townhouse are notices stating PLEASE BE QUIET AND CONSIDERATE OF OTHER GUESTS. As visually-needy as Front Room seems to be, I am surprised that he missed this. Maybe he's dead. No, I can hear him snoring. Can you snore when you're dead? Dying?

I listen at his door to make sure it's coming from his room. Yes. I walk downstairs to the first floor to check if I can hear him. Snoring, check. TV, check. I decided to knock on his door and tell him to knock it off. He doesn't respond to a light or medium knock. Maybe he's in a coma. Can you snore when you're in a coma? I give up, go back to my room. I try to sleep, but the machine-gun burst of Tagalog from the TV followed by his slow, snorting snore is an impossibly disruptive rhythm that I cannot get used to. It's like the morning taxi ride - coast,brake, slam! - but in reverse.

This continues until 4:00am. Suddenly, there was silence. A one-minute beep from the TV signals the end of the broadcasting day. Front Room has even stopped snoring. I can sleep.

For three minutes. Peach Room is on my other side. Peach Room is an elderly, one-eyed, shirtless European and his Filipino escort. He is a couple of minutes late on his shift for TV duty, so he tries to make up for it by turning it on at full volume. And conversation:

Herr Pirate: "...make exercise? Heh, heh, heh!"
Lusty Wench: " Hee, hee, hee!"

Good Lord. I just want to make sleep. Now I'm going to make sick. I decide to take my shower the instant he starts his exercise "routine." May your sets be 1 and your reps few.

Making sure that Peach Room has finished exercising, I return to bed. I check my flanks. Nothing from Front Room and Peach Room has turned down the volume. That means I can get an hour-and-a-half of sleep. No. It doesn't.

Front Room is now on full automatic. One minute of every ten, the TV emits its we're-still-off-the-air beep. The remaining nine minutes are quiet. The beep starts high and sharp but seems to lose its shrill tone and its B, just becoming a long eeeeeeeee that isn't too bad. I can do this. Then it stops abruptly and its loss wakens me. Ah, but now it's completely silent. Sleep is forming like B-movie ghosts and I'm almost there when The Beep must iterate that they, yes, are still off the air, thank you.

Now my turn. My fan starts to scream louder than Front and Peach's best combined efforts. I can't take it. I go downstairs and sleep on one of the hardwood benches next to the driver. It was a good twenty minutes.

Time to start my goodbye to the Philippines. I find a very reasonable taxi and arrive at the airport at 6:30. After standing in line for about 10 minutes I notice that nobody is going in. I also notice that I'm the only white guy in line.

Two signs, two entrances next to each other: Entrance and OFW Entrance. Oops. I'm not an Overseas Filipino Worker, so I think I'll just try the plain,old Entrance. The line is short and moves quickly. I produce my passport and confirmation printout for the security guard.

Security Guard: What's your flight, sir?

Me: Here. Cebu Pacific at 11:00.

SG: This is for the 27th.

Me: Yeah. I know.

SG: Today is the 26th.

Me: Nooo...Uh...I'm early?

SG: Yes, you are. Your flight is tomorrow.

Me: Okay, thanks. (I start walking away.)

SG: Uh, sir? Could you come back, please?

Me: (Very hopefully) Yes?

SG: May I see your confirmation again, please?

Me: Sure!

SG: (Turning the the screeners by the X-ray machine): Rat-a-tat-tat-tat...TWENTY-SEVENTH...rat-a-tat-tat-tat (Laughs and hands back my confirmation) See you tomorrow.

Me: Yeah...tomorrow. Hello Green Room.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

NOTHING

Bla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla Bla


and some more

Bla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla BlaBla Bla Bla




FY

Chinese Father's Day

August 8th.

I won't be celebrating as I have already given up Father's Day as a holiday. Personally, I think Mom's deserve two days a year, instead. Plus I don't need any ties.

I have noticed some advertising for Father's Days gifts. Like cosmetics and stuff from L'herbolario, some make-up company that sends their catalogs around to my house and office.

You know, giving a man exfoliating cream or moisturizing spray for Father's Day is the equivalent of giving a woman a season pass to NFL.com or a beer of the month membership for Mother's Day.

Maybe it would work if the house is one of those new "Cindy has two daddies" households, but I don't think Taiwan has so many of those yet.

Yardwork



This dang thing grows faster than the U.T. pot crop after a good recruiting season.

Monday, August 04, 2008

O K C W i l l R o g e r s W o r l d A i r p o r t




Did you know?

  • The shortest flight out of OKC is 175 miles.
  • OKC has 127 medium sized aircraft departing each week.
  • There are 19 nonstop flights per week departing from OKC.
  • There are over 482 domestic flights per week from OKC.


9 domestic carriers......





New York Mets win doubleheader

Beijing Olympics Watch

Uighurs attack Chinese border outpost - 16 policemen killed.

Protestors at Tiananmen.

Weather:

Current conditions as of 2:00 pm CST

Haze

Feels Like: 37°C
Chance of being Detained: 59%
Political Clampdown Pressure: 1005 mb

Okay, the last two measures aren't real.

Forbidden


A couple walks past a sign in Beijing listing prohibited items. I'm guessing it's near the entrance to a some sort of public transportation, probably a subway, based on the 站 character in the red box. With the help of my Chinese teacher, here are some highlights. China uses different phrasing for many things, so for some items, we used our best guess.
1. gas, butane canisters, gas canisters, easily flammable things.
2. dynamite, explosive devices, triggering devices, detonators, bottle rockets, fireworks, anti-tank mine/grenade?, land mine models?, hand grenades, ???, bullets and things that explode easily
3. pesticide/herbicide?, ???, toxic chemicals
4. sulphuric acid, ???, hydrochloric acid, corrosive agents
5. guns, homemade guns, ??? guns, toy guns, gun-style cigarette lighters, restricted-sales knives, daggers, folding knives and switchblades.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

The Tonka XIII issue, vol 12




TONKA.....
Building a better boyhood



I wish I were in the land of cotton.
Old times there are not forgotten.
Look away.
Look away.
A way down south in Dixie.

Excerpt from Tony Hillerman's Coyote Waits that made me chuckle:

Lt. Joe Leaphorn talking to exiled FBI agent Jay Kennedy:


"You ever been to China?" Leaphorn asked.

Kennedy laughed. "Not yet." ...

"Think you'd like to go?"

Kennedy laughed again. " It's on my wish list," he said. "
Right after Angola, Antarctica, Bangladesh, Lubbock, Texas, and the Australian
outback."


Maybe some Texas cop locked up one time.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Olympics may Be a trap

News from the Onion - Are the Beijing Olympics really a trap?

Panel discussion (2 min video)

Public Service Announcement

I've been buying cases of Kirin at Costco. Great price of about NT$ 27 per beer. These are the normal Kirins in the white cans.

Well, last night I noticed that my "normal" Kirin which were always made in Japan are now brewed in China. I have not checked 7-11 to see if they too have switched in the China-brewed Kirins or not. I know I am probably the only one who is anal about this stuff, but made in China big brand beers often lose their flavor and alcohol content.

The China Kirin tasted okay and the alchol content still said 5.5% so I am keeping my fingers crossed. I think this may actually be brewed to replicate the old Kirin for the Taiwan market because I am pretty damn sure the Kirin I have in China is the usual doppelganger of every other beer made in China - poor tasting, overly carbonated, and with low alcohol levels. Okay, Old Kingway and Carlsberg do actually have some flavor. Heineken does too, but I hate it regardless of where its made.

And I don't blame the beer companies. China is a vast market for beer, but the consumers there buy on price, not quality. Maybe the world-wide increase in food prices gave Kirin no choice. but to bring in the China-brewed beer. Though, Kirin, which to me was a premium beer because it was made in Japan and had a distinctive taste, at least was wise enough to try to maintain some flavor and alcohol content.




Friday, August 01, 2008

Warning II




Just 1 more reason "not" 2 b a Canadianer......






Sorry about that Chief!

Philippines Trip: The Taxi

I get off the bus under the freeway and four cabbies circle me. Yes, I need a taxi. No, you must go with him. Him is at the front of the taxi ranks. Him is a little, darker-skinned Mr. Magoo. I hand him the address and he hands it to the three other cabbies.

They begin gesturing and pointing. They get a rock and scratch a map on the sidewalk. I loan them a pen and paper. They draw another map. Now it's all nods and smiles and I'm ready to go.

Me (to map drawer): Does he know where he's going?

Map Drawer (laughing, smiling): Of course. He's a taxi driver.

He better be a good one, because I am looking at the map and back at the road and worry. He begins with an 8-point U-turn, seven of which are perpendicular to, or facing traffic coming down the one-way, four lane highway. The U-turn is laboriously completed and we are now facing directly into the flow of traffic. About time to stall. So we do.

The other cabbies dodge traffic and push us to the side of the road. My driver pops the hood and stands to the side of the engine with his hands on the hood. Without touching anything except the hood, he closes it up and tells me "It's all okay now." Wow. Psychic car maintenance.

Like a pledge gathering courage to run through a haze line, he revs the engine hoping to gain enough momentum to slalom us 25 yards through the oncoming cars to our desired exit on the far side of the highway. He pops the clutch and we shoot off just like most rust buckets starting from second gear would do. With Segway-like speed we coast to the divider, still needing to turn 45 degrees so we can actually try to stall with the flow of traffic. But first, we should probably stall where we are. No problem.

A leisurely 3-point turn does this for us and we lurch and sputter forward like Foster Brooks on wheels. Concentrating on my zen-like powers of bowel control, my other senses have been temporarily ignored. Now that we are safe...safer... the other senses come back online and Smell is telling me that my cabbie either mistook gasoline for Armor All, or he has installed the carburetor in the car's interior.

I check in with Sound, trying to ignore Smell and hope that my cabbie doesn't decide to light up. Everything in this cab makes noise. The steering wheel creaks. The stick shift squeals. The gears grind. And the brakes. They don't squeal. They are well past that. It's frayed pieces of metal clanging against each other until two parts lock together in a quick, deep decrescendo that stops us immediately. And then we stall.

Oh, lookee! An overpass! This cannot be good. Two lanes, one-way traffic, bumper-to-bumper. Go a car's length. Stop. Rest. Repeat. About 70 times.

My cabbie has decided to add a few extra steps to this pattern. Advance. Brake. Stall. Coast backward. Stop again. Re-start engine. Release clutch. Coast backward again. Drive forward one car's length. Stop. Stall. Repeat. About 70 times.

On our 1-lurch-forward, gentle-coast-backward assault of the overpass, another taxi passes us ( or maybe we passed it in reverse, it's hard to say). The company name on the taxi said MAYDIE Taxi. Trying to figure out the probable name of my taxi kept me distracted until we reached the top of the overpass and headed down.

Here, he had to modify his driving pattern a bit. Initiate stall. Coast. Brake. Slam into the front seat. Now that he did not need to be so focused, he became quite the chatterbox.

Him: Where are you coming from today?

Me: Puerto Galera.

Him: Puerto Galera. That's on Mindoro, right?

Me: Yes, it is.

One minute later

Him: So, how did you like El Nido?

Me: What? That was years ago. How did you know?

Him: You came from there today.

Me: No. I told you I came from Puerto Galera today.

Him: Oh. Did you take the boat or the bus?

Me: Both.

Him: You can take a boat from Puerto Galera directly to Manila. No boat. Very convenient.

Me: I was in Sinandigan. The bus stop is far away and the crossing to Luzon is really far away and...and, yeah, it was nice and very convenient.

Him: So, you took the bus to Manila?

Me: I told you...you grabbed by bag getting off the bus...yeah, I took the bus to Manila.