Nutty Philippine Retail.

Two days left until my iPhone 5 arrives. Time to purge a few leftover pics from the trip:

No, our clothes aren’t stylish, affordable or even close to your size. However…

Yikes. And the tagline, aimed at the Filipino demographic: “Stay young, stay white.”

Never a more preposterous tie-in.

I stand corrected.

Best eye care in all of Asia. Trust us – we’re a travel guide shop.

The Seventh Great Movie Of The Year.

In the late 70s, as the people of his country starved, the Shah of Iran spent like an MFer. His wife took baths in milk; he had his lunch flown in daily from Paris. He was diagnosed with cancer around the same time Iranians finally went apeshit, and he fled the country, looking for safe-haven and treatment. America stupidly took him in and embraced him. With enough time and distance, it’s safe to say we not only shit the bed, we shat the nightstands as well.

The Iranians wanted him back to stand trial, and when we didn’t acquiesce, Americans inside the embassy in Tehran were trapped like sitting ducks and taken hostage. Six escaped and went into protection, but the clock was ticking until they’d be found, tortured and publicly hanged.

And that’s where Argo begins. I’ve blogged before about how much I love Ben Affleck as a director and actor (he’s the new Scorsese), and with Argo he’s hit another grand slam. Even if you know the result of his character Tony Mendez’s mission in this film – a true story about a long-held secret in American history – the tension-filled sequences are so perfect they’ll make you physically sick. I love it.

Also great: Alan Arkin as the Hollywood producer and John Goodman as the makeup artist working with Mendez to hatch his scheme. The movie infuses a comical tone whenever possible, and most of the time, Arkin and John are involved, looking like they had a blast shooting this.

See it. It’s awesome.

Professional Pics From The Wedding.

Bear with me for a few days while I milk my trip some more overcome jetlag and post more from the Philippines:

There are three keys to a wedding toast: keep it short, keep it short, insult the groom’s parents. 3 for 3.

From the wedding photo booth. Bru waited to wear the hat until after it was too late for Aina to back out of marrying him.

In case you need a team to perform a contract hit.

Filipino tradition: the couple sits and takes photos with everyone who attends. It took over an hour and poor Bru and Aina missed dinner. I almost prison-style keystered in some Chilean sea bass for them.

Someone must have slipped a ruphie into my pink lemonade, because I honestly don’t remember taking this photo.

Missed You Too, America.

Day 8: Fun’s Over.

This trip was so much more amazing than I ever imagined, I’m considering getting the bride and groom’s names tattooed on my belly, thug-life style… From the “book a vacation, get an audition, dept.”: voicemail from my agent saying “Cougar Town” had wanted me to come in yesterday. It happens… I’ve missed black people… Time to pay the price of visiting paradise: two different flights over 19 hours to make it home. But I’ll be back in Los Angeles this afternoon, so finish robbing me and get out of my apartment – I’m gonna want to lay down.

Day 7: Rain Delay.

We were supposed to fly back to LA today, but a tropical storm (see above, before/after) canceled flights out of here.

I love Boracay so much I’m in a Boracay fantasy league, so being stranded here for another day was not exactly punishment. Vacation overtime. But then we heard a flight opened up and that’s when it got interesting.

We took a speedboat back in the storm to the main isle, then were told we were given misinformation – no seats on any planes. So we hired a van to take us to another airport. The van drove 80 minutes through jungles and tiny villages and downed power lines, finally arriving at an airport in a town called Kaliba that had no business having an airport. We had six hours to kill before our flight to Manila (where we’re spending the night), so we had lunch and composed our favorite Facebook status ever:

“Sitting in a Chinese restaurant filled with 50 Koreans, on the edge of a rice field in a rainstorm somewhere in the middle of Boracay, Philippines – or as I like to call it: ‘Thursday.’”

And favorite check-in ever, too, to a place called: 長灘島 機場.

The storm never backed down, and our flight wound up being delayed another two hours, which was the fitting final stretch of a planes/trains/automobiles undertaking, but I gotta say it was an awesome day. While everyone back in LA slept, four great friends persevered out of a place that might as well have been a million miles from home. That’s worth the journey.

Day 6: 12,000 Starbucks Locations Worldwide…

...and this one is kicking 11,999 of their butts.