just fucking painful

Pain. Just blinding pain. White hot streaks of pain.

Heh. I'm just feeling the repercussions of the activities last Sunday. Wall climbing. I was perfectly fine yesterday. I felt absolutely nothing. But now, I'm in pain. I can barely type anything. Gaahh.. Yes. Just lovely. Well, at least, now I'm sure I actually have muscles beneath all this fat. Can the fat also feel pain? Shit. It may just be fat afterall. The best part is discovering I actually have upper body strength!! I'm probably going to try it again. Preferrably when I can already move my fingers.
So.. We went wall climbing at Silver City in Tiendesitas. It's a pretty good deal actually. It only costs P240 for 3 hours (including the shoes - which are also hellish to wear because they feel like it's 2 sizes too small). But it doesn't hurt that pretty people hang out there as well. Good for the eyes. To straight girls out there, this is the place to be. The instructors are attractive. You can drool at them for as long as you like for all I care.
Of course, I don't have pictures of them. It would just be too weird. But I assure you, even my gf found them cute.

Ah! Word of advice. Try not to slip or slam your face into the walls. I'm pretty sure if you slid down, you're going to leave your nose on one of those rocks. Lean back people! Don't scrape off your face. It's not pretty.

After all the climbing, we ate half of the world's food supply. So much for the exercise.
We tried Jun's Cebu Lechon just to see if he really was from Cebu. Nope. Not really. Mehehe. The sisig was good though. The lechon paksiw was not Cebuano paksiw. But it wasn't bad for P500. Not bad at all.

We were eating in peace when we were suddenly jolted by someone banging drums and stuff. I turned my head to see this.
Grown men in bahag. Really skinny too. When I looked closer, I could actually see their butts. Wow. How authentic. It's a good thing I'm not easily disturbed.
They were followed by these young ladies. I was actually one of these gals back in high school. My PE teacher thought it would be funny to make me carry huge pots on my head. Seriously. I really did dance this thing back then. Six tortured souls. We had coaches and everything. Mirrors too. I think it was some sort of tribal presentation for a politician or something. I can't remember. Selective amnesia of me performing in public. It's a defensive mechanism. All I remember was that it was 12 noon and we danced bare foot. There is nothing sexier than the smell of burning foot flesh wafting in the open air. I did stuff in high school that I still feel right now.
Anyway, as the dance progressed the girls placed all their pots on this girl with a really really strong neck. It was some sort of marriage ritual. I know what she's thinking right now. Marriage sucks. Especially if you have to marry a guy with a dead chicken on his head.

Oh well. To each his own.

I, on the other hand, will continue to focus all my energy into not passing out from the pain. All sorts of pain.