GammaGlobulin

Still, when warming up a woman, by putting your finger on her sweet spot, doing so is not the same thing as the Science required to cure Global Warming. Anyone can make a woman lubricate, if she is receptive. Just as a woman can do the same for a man, even if not so receptive. However, in order to remove CO2 from the atmosphere, this takes real science, and not something that you can do in bed. Making a woman lubricate takes no more than just pure blind faith. Curing the world's CO2 ills takes Science. Anyone can sleep with a woman. Especially, in Pattaya. Not so easy to do something useful, maybe.

BLIND FAITH vs SCIENCE? Do you use the Scientific Method while pleasuring women? I used to. For example, what is the Scientific Method, anyway? You make an hypothesis, and then test it. And then, after many tests, you develop a theory about the weaker sex, and what she likes. In my opinion, most women prefer candles, sweet smelling men, and tenderness. Please do not mistake me, because I prefer women to men, in almost every way. I prefer butter rather and guns.

Also, looking back on it, I believe that one of the main reasons I still have my member, without having it snipped off, is because I do not cheat. In the past, when I was sleeping with women, I was able to sleep peacefully. I never needed to worry about having my thing cut off, and thrown into the jungle. So, treat women well. And, you, too, will be able to sleep peacefully.

Dear Friends, You know, my friends, that I actually DO have a few female friends. I mean that, as far as I know, I have TRUE female friends, and I value their friendship SOOOO Much! One thing that I do is to treat Thai women as I would wish to treated, myself. Also, in every instance, I communicate my respect for them, through many subtle but important ways which women seem to value. Also, I tell them, in an honest way, just how much I truly appreciate their friendship. I never lie to them. I am always very sincere. There is no lying, however. Thai women despise deceit. Even though I treat women with great respect, still, in my off moments, I cannot help imagining them being naked. And, even, sometimes, I wonder about what their bush might look like, if only I could see it. And, likewise, I can only assume that some women wonder about my package, too, small as it might be, compared to other men who might be well hung. No doubt, some women might dream of horses, for example, and we know this to be true. I am not hung like a horse, and I would not wish to be, having my member swinging to and fro, bumping between my thighs while walking. Being a person of ultimate celibacy, I am in a better position to make friends with Thai women, I think. Sure, they know that I am not gay. Yet, still, they realize that I am not a threat. Thai women see me as harmless, mostly. There is no doubt that I miss the old in an out, the foreplay, the innuendo, the excitement of the chase. However, I have given this up in order to develop a higher order of bonding to the women I know. The chemistry is still there. The wish to sexually conjugate is still there. Yet, I have given up this wish to conjugate in favor of a Higher Love. I have no doubt that you might think I am joking, but I am not. I am talking about a higher plane, a plane of interaction with women which leads to more pleasure, and far less pain. Love is Pain, we have been told. Yet, love need not be this way, if only you conduct yourselves in a better manor. Please keep in mind, my friends: Anytime you objectify women, you will get kicked in the stones, big time. Women might be considered the weaker sex, however, they are not. And, women are stronger than men. And, you will pay, and pay, if you do not respect them, as they should be respected. You might, if you are not careful, even lose your life, or even your thing. Yeah, women here are strong. BUT, if you treat women well, the way they should be treated, then you will be paid back in kind, maybe two-fold. Asian women here demand respect. And, if you pay them the respect they deserve....then.....you will reap great rewards, and not only the reward between their legs. You will get their respect, which is not so easy. In the end, they might even consider you to be their equal. Just a thought. Best regards, Glob Note: Bring me a higher love, is what everyone wants, something so elusive that so few ever can achieve it, and most just sing about it.

"God bless Captain Vere!" Unfortunately, Billy Budd is so pure that he only finally achieves his first erection while being hung from the yardarm. This almost never happens in Pattaya. If ONLY Billy Budd could have visited Pattaya before he was hung, then he might have had his innocence happily shattered, and he might have fallen in love, and he might have, finally, known the blessedness of Sin. Unfortunately, he only achieved his first and last erection, hanging from a yardarm, too late. Such is the pity. Therefore: Never criticize what goes on in Pattaya, my friends. And, I never do. Giving head is good. Receiving head is even better. Sugar plums in Pattaya? Love is never free, but, in Pattaya, love is not so costly that no man cannot lose his virginity. And, few girls are frigid in Pattaya, also. Few have headaches, either. Shave your legs, and get down there.

"The blood of Ham" Indeed.

Such beautiful prose, one just must cry with delight...right?

BILLY BUDD: Chapter 1 In the time before steamships, or then more frequently than now, a stroller along the docks of any considerable sea-port would occasionally have his attention arrested by a group of bronzed mariners, man-of-war's men or merchant-sailors in holiday attire ashore on liberty. In certain instances they would flank, or, like a body-guard quite surround some superior figure of their own class, moving along with them like Aldebaran among the lesser lights of his constellation. That signal object was the "Handsome Sailor" of the less prosaic time alike of the military and merchant navies. With no perceptible trace of the vainglorious about him, rather with the off-hand unaffectedness of natural regality, he seemed to accept the spontaneous homage of his shipmates. A somewhat remarkable instance recurs to me. In Liverpool, now half a century ago, I saw under the shadow of the great dingy street-wall of Prince's Dock (an obstruction long since removed) a common sailor, so intensely black that he must needs have been a native African of the unadulterate blood of Ham. A symmetric figure much above the average height. The two ends of a gay silk handkerchief thrown loose about the neck danced upon the displayed ebony of his chest; in his ears were big hoops of gold, and a Scotch Highland bonnet with a tartan band set off his shapely head. It was a hot noon in July; and his face, lustrous with perspiration, beamed with barbaric good humor. In jovial sallies right and left, his white teeth flashing into he rollicked along, the centre of a company of his shipmates. These were made up of such an assortment of tribes and complexions as would have well fitted them to be marched up by Anacharsis Cloots before the bar of the first French Assembly as Representatives of the Human Race. At each spontaneous tribute rendered by the wayfarers to this black pagod of a fellow--the tribute of a pause and stare, and less frequent an exclamation,--the motley retinue showed that they took that sort of pride in the evoker of it which the Assyrian priests doubtless showed for their grand sculptured Bull when the faithful prostrated themselves. To return. If in some cases a bit of a nautical Murat in setting forth his person ashore, the Handsome Sailor of the period in question evinced nothing of the dandified Billy-be-Damn, an amusing character all but extinct now, but occasionally to be encountered, and in a form yet more amusing than the original, at the tiller of the boats on the tempestuous Erie Canal or, more likely, vaporing in the groggeries along the tow-path. Invariably a proficient in his perilous calling, he was also more or less of a mighty boxer or wrestler. It was strength and beauty. Tales of his prowess were recited. Ashore he was the champion; afloat the spokesman; on every suitable occasion always foremost. Close-reefing top-sails in a gale, there he was, astride the weather yard-arm-end, foot in the Flemish horse as "stirrup," both hands tugging at the "earring" as at a bridle, in very much the attitude of young Alexander curbing the fiery Bucephalus. A superb figure, tossed up as by the horns of Taurus against the thunderous sky, cheerily hallooing to the strenuous file along the spar. The moral nature was seldom out of keeping with the physical make. Indeed, except as toned by the former, the comeliness and power, always attractive in masculine conjunction, hardly could have drawn the sort of honest homage the Handsome Sailor in some examples received from his less gifted associates.

Another movie scene I love is the great film, Billy Budd. Bosun (boatswain), "Do your Duty"! Melville was no slouch, I guess.

One important thing I had intended to mention in the above topic is this: TV has metamorphized, thankfully, during the the past two recent years, into a place where those of us who are somewhat garrulous are able to contribute well-intentioned scribblings without reproach, and with a minimal amount of flack. After so many years, this is now a boon to those who really care about the solidarity of our TV-Thailand community. I have no doubt, whatsoever, that we have become a kinder and gentler society and culture here. And, if this were not so evident, then I would not post my thoughts here. In this forum, we can find many people who share much in common, and there are very few places where this is the case. But, this does not happen serendipitously, by any means. This only happens through hard work expended by the people who still care, so much. Hats off to the people who make this happen. We have come a long way, Baby!

My Dear Friends, Rambo: First blood hit the theatres in my part of Asia, around 1982, shortly following its release in America. Deliverance was an earlier film, released in 1972, but still of basically the same genre. And, I first watched this film on tape, using VHS, as I foggily recall, while living in Asia. In my opinion, I am a fairly non-violent sort of person, one who prefers passive-aggressiveness over outright violence. I guess, when one is an introvert, then passive-aggressive thinking is one’s best weapon of choice, rather than overt violence. Although, I do not condone any forms of violence, at any time. Originally, one evening in 1982, I had attended the theatre (using the UK spelling here), to watch First Blood, not knowing an inkling about this film. I was shocked to my boots by what I considered such a blatantly dumb film, with themes that were dumber, similar to the film “Dumb and Dumber”, an erudite production which would not be filmed until later. Yet, films such as Dumb and Dumber grow on one, due to the nostalgia effect which plagues many of us. I just wish to mention that, similar to the time when JFK was assassinated, I still recall, so clearly, the moment I saw First Blood. Truly, this was a shock to my system. And, I viewed the film, in entirety, with Chinese subtitles which did not distract me from the action, too much. I thought about this viewing, this morning, and sat and wondered, about this film from 1982. Ain’t it funny how our lives move, especially when you just don’t have as much to lose? Here are two notable excerpts from these films. I like Brian, especially..... I have no negative thoughts about Stallone or Burt, and know nothing about their personal lives. Their media persona leaves much to be desired, in my opinion. Although, I did like watching the stallion’s counterpart, Sharon Stone, in her great film, Basic Instinct, especially her interrogation scene, watching her cross and uncross her gorgeous legs. Stallone loved Stone, in my opinion, obviously, which was apparent in the film, The Specialist. And, I also loved reading The Spy Who Loved me, written by James Bond. Personally, I do prefer films like Guinness’s “Man in the White Suit”, which is far more up my alley. Such films are far more to my taste, and far funnier. Others, here, of course, prefer bows and arrows, and I am no film snob. These days, looking back on over 45 years of life in Asia, I realize just how blessed I have been, not by Mother Mary, but by the earthiness of what I found here, when I was a young boy, willing to be led astray, in the best way. Let me please not write too much, this time. Best regards, Glob Note: I often think just how lucky we are to have this TV Forum, which is the best. There are many old guys here, guys who are super-smart and learned, talented men and women who are retired from interesting careers, people with far more experience than I might have; smart people who are also very good writers and enjoy more satire and parody than I can write. Therefore, we are lucky to be a part of this forum, as most of us know. I think that Voltaire might be posting here, if he were alive today, even though I never agreed with his politics, either. Take care. Very soon, we will all be back to NORMAL around here, I think. Or, as some of you might tell me, maybe I will not be back to normal. So be it.

Good! Tastes good!

As Goebbels said, "We can do without butter, but, despite all our love of peace, not without arms. One cannot shoot with butter, but with guns." Land O Lakes unsalted butter received top ratings in the test kitchen's taste tests for its clean dairy flavor. Up near Lake Superior, you got both Guns, as well as Butter. Wisconsin has it all. il_570xN.3127876878_5bcy.avif

OK. I will gladly take your bet, and bet that you are completely wrong. WRONG. If you want to bet on sugar, instead, then all bets are off. Butter is not bad. Sugar is not good. Get the picture? But, I have never used K-Y Jelly. Have you? I think that K-Y Jelly is used for medical purposes. As for me, I prefer the missionary position, and, also, those of the opposite sex, of my own species.

I have a pain. It's alive.

Where is JOHN LENNON WHEN YOU NEED HIM? Our world needs John, these days. Jack Lemmon, we also need.

You never need to feel empty.... Never need to feel empty when you read the dialogue of Last Tango in Paris, I guess. ==== Now, please, cut your fingernails, and put them up where the sun don't shine. ..... This is GREAT literature, at it's best.

You know, Marlon Brando never killed anyone. Here is his butter scene. It was only his son, Christian who killed anyone.

Not high....exactly. Only on a 48-hour fast. Same thing. Some use fasting to gain a high. Others buy guns to get high. As you know, although I have never been, there are places in Thailand where you can go to shoot guns. And, you can even leave a note, and become an author, read by many. ==== Better to buy butter.

The question is: Do you prefer guns or butter?

I once had one of these... And then, I realized that there was no point in having it. There is only so much time one can spend, cleaning one's gun. Far better, just to stimulate oneself, rather than to own a gun, a gun with no feeling.

We are going down. Down, down, and down. Hippieness is a warm gun. (Hippies) When I feel my love of Mother Superior, I feel so right. Sometimes, I dream of a Colt Happiness is a warm gun, not to mention a warmer socket. Guns kill. I never knew this before a gun killed John Lennon. I guess this killing must have been unexpected. And, I had also never expected to see a film like Rosemary's Baby. Things like this just happen, from time to time.... Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. Things just happen, in this universe of ours. Sometime in the distant future, we will understand our universe, but not really. The more you understand, the more you realize that the universe is not willing to be understood.

Please note: The two spellings, "heap" and "Heep" do not refer to the same thing, and do not have the same meanings. Heep is a well respected surname, for example. And, the adjective "heap" adequately describes the band.