Love: The attention. Man, they treat me like freakin gold here.
Hate: The attention. Sometimes I just want to open my own fucking door.

Love: The work ethic. These people take serious pride in their work. Even if you are a shit shoveler. Nobody half asses anything.
Hate: Filipino time. It’s like Chop time, but 10 times more frustrating. At least I get to work and meetings on time.

Love: My hotel staff. They all knew my name by the end of the first week. The cleaning staff alone deserves a medal.
Hate: Korean tourists. Rudest motherfuckers I’ve ever seen. They treat the staff like second class citizens. I need to learn how to call someone a douchebag in Korean.

Love: The weather. 85+ and sunny every day. It never rains this time of year.
Hate: The unforgiving smell of raw sewage after there actually is a big rainstorm.

Love: Buckets of San Miguel beer.
Hate: Empty buckets of San Miguel beer.

Love: All the big visiting music acts stay on my floor.
Hate: Having to hang out with the guys from Tears for Fears.

Love: Large amounts of cheap disposable goods. I bought new Vans for 11 bucks.
Hate: Filipino’s think all Americans are rich.

Love: That I have a new friend that’s an Ex-CIA agent.
Hate: That he was able pull my arrest record less than a half hour after I called his bluff. Well played Terry….If that IS your real name.

Love: The unwavering desire for my minons to follow my exact orders.
Hate: The inability for my minons to think on their own. Ever. They are so fucked when I leave.

Love: The Bars are open all night long.
Hate: Sunlight.

Love: Readily available supplies of Cuban Cigars.
Hate: How many I’m going to have to throw out when I get red-flagged at customs.

Love: Making up fake names at Starbucks. You’d laugh too if you ever heard an Asian say “Grande Cafe Mocha for Smegma”
Hate: When they remember your name as Smegma.

Love: Filipino bitches love me.
Hate: The fact that Filipino bitches REALLY love me. 

Love: $1 packs of cigarettes that taste like they used to before America made them double wrap them in paper so idiots didn’t burn their houses down.
Hate: It took me only a week of living here to totally fall off the wagon and really start smoking again.

Love: Diving in the oceans off the coast. Absolutely beautiful coral reefs.
Hate: Having to be careful since crazy Filipino’s still actively practice blast fishing. You would think the guy with one arm would try a safer method.

Love: The imaginary character that pays for everything that I named Mr. Hancock.
Hate: A guaranteed expense audit when I get home.

Love: Filipino cover bands. Never in America do you see bands big enough and egoless enough to have two singers and the talent to cover modern pop songs.
Hate: The idea that they think they can cover “Sweet Child Of Mine” and not make it sound awful.

Love: The Japanese TV channel. It’s just as funny as SNL made it out to be. Perhaps even funnier.
Hate: They edit the movies on TV for content here. I haven’t seen Cinemax or HBO titty in 7 weeks.

Love: Hot British business travellers that can drink like maniacs.
Hate: Yeah, there’s nothing to hate there. Nothing whatsoever.

Love: Redefining the American stereotype.
Hate: That the existing stereotype is set so fucking low that I impress people.

Love: That I leave for Australia in 7 days
Hate: The fact that I have to go back home and become a regular schlub again.

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