There Is No Good Beer in the Philippines

Dear God, it took me four tries to spell Philippines right. Honestly, they just give Ph.Ds in English out to anyone off the street nowadays.

Ahem. But I digress.

A very good friend of mine has started a blog about his various (mis)adventures and wry observations. At first blush, this may sound rather mundane. After all, A Lie Told Well began as something akin to this, but I had to drop the "various (mis)adventures" part because I'm pretty much a shut in. This has instead left you, dear reader, with only the "wry observations" part, which quickly degenerated into self-indulgent prose desperately seeking the crassest denominator for humor at others' expense. Not surprisingly, though, I remain obstinately unapologetic.

But what would happen if a blogger of similar vision actually lived a life of international intrigue, grandiose globe-trotting, and other alluring alliteratives? Could that excitement be encapsulated in the limited confines of human expression? Could lightning really be captured in a bottle (honestly, that's not rhetorical. I'm horrible at science)? By way of answering, let me simply make three observations: 1) this is the man who told me about The Hobbit Hole, a bar in Manila that is Lord of the Rings themed and staffed exclusively by little people; 2) his blog already contains a picture of a "Cat Feeding Station" and has a different post entitled "There Are No Pumpkins in Kenya;" 3) I actually don't have a third observation, but for whatever reason, I (like everyone else brought up in the American educational system) feel compelled to group things in threes.

In short, check out the Great Adventures of Stewart Pinecrest, which unless I'm mistaken, is the auteur's porn name. Well played, Monsieur Pinecrest. Well played.