Happy New Year! Or was it…

Wow! Almost a whole month since I last wrote anything here. I feel like a naughty kid who has some explaining to do after maiming a family pet.

However, there’s a very good reason why I’ve been, let’s face it, f*****g slack recently. But while many of you will be expecting me to cite Christmas and the New Year as the reasons for my tardiness, they’re not.

Of course, my family and I celebrated the birth of our lord and saviour Jesus Christ in a suitably appropriate way (we ate a turkey). And then we celebrated the fact that the earth had just made another successful revolution around the sun in a suitably appropriate way too (we got pissed). But these two momentous occasions actually had little bearing on my ability to publish a post here.

The fact that some thieving scumbag(s) robbed our house on New Year’s eve and stole my old laptop and two TVs absolutely did, though!

That’s right! While most of you were counting down to midnight, singing Auld Lang Syne and kissing random strangers, some low-life bastard(s) was/were rifling through our belongings.

It’s not even the fact that we lost two TVs and my laptop that pisses me off the most. It’s the fact that some unscrupulous shit had the audacity to break into our house and take whatever they want. And, to rub even more salt into the wound, they left the bloody remote controls!

To me, that’s like a final low blow. A big middle finger to the Americano – yeah, I know I’m English, but if you’re white in the Philippines then you’re American. Full stop. End of story. Or ‘cano’ as they usually shout. My reply of ‘moron’ often falls on deaf ears, unfortunately.

Anyway, life goes on. I’ve got a new TV and nobody was hurt during the robbery. That’s the most important thing, right? Hmmm…

Oh, and if you ever find yourself living in the Philippines and experience a burglary, don’t bother contacting the police. Because unless you pay them, they won’t give a rat’s ass about your situation. #rantover

So last time I posted here I told you about how I’d managed to pluck up the courage to tell my live-in partner that I was going to emigrate. I’d already dropped the news on my cat, so telling the girlfriend should be a cinch right? After all, one was a simple creature who enjoyed tummy rubs and shit in a box at the bottom of our stairs. The other was my cat – I’m joking of course! She didn’t really like tummy rubs.

Amazingly, the conversation went better than I could have ever hoped. Obviously, there was a lot of crying, swearing and heartache. But the fact that I left her ALL of my worldly belongings went some way to alleviate the pain. I even took her flat hunting before I left and we managed to get her a great little place in Twickenham.

Don’t get me wrong, what I did was shit. And I’ve always tried to justify my actions by highlighting how nice I was in the period immediately prior to my departure.

The truth, however, was that I was being selfish and fulfilling a dream that I’d yearned after for years.

Do I regret leaving the UK? Absolutely not! Do I wish I’d done it sooner? Hell yeah!

But jacking everything in and moving 6,679 miles to the other side of the world wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly. Somehow though, I made it seem like it was.

I bought my plane ticket; worked my one month’s notice and generally wasn’t concerned about the whole affair. I should have been though! I’d just quit my job as the country was entering a recession and was moving to a country where they eat balut – that’s another post entirely.

In fact, I’m going to make it my mission to publish a post about eating balut. I’ll get pictures and maybe even a video of my gorgeous lady (she’ll read this for sure) eating one. Watch this space.

Next week, I’ll tell you all about our first business venture in the Philippines – which we thought was going to be epic, but turned out to be a big pile of horseshit.

In the meantime, here’s a picture of Jaquilene eating a barbecued chicken’s foot over Christmas. It’s not some kind of horrific dare or test of nerve; she genuinely likes eating them. Just ask yourself, what the f**k can you possibly eat on a chicken’s foot? Quite a lot, apparently…

Mmmm, a barbecued chicken’s foot

The reason her face looks like a slapped ass is because I told her I was going to publish her picture on the Internet. She doesn’t ‘get’ the fact that people in other countries don’t eat chicken’s feet.