Prubangboy

Guns, Girls, Gambling, Ganja is another classic from venerable Silkworm Press (now 25% off): https://silkwormbooks.com/products/guns-girls-gambling-ganja Sometimes, the books are just dry reprints of somebody's thesis, but I have at least a half dozen Silkworm Press books under my belt.

I scooped up a copy on Khao San Road for 60 baht in 2022. Not bad; a 3-crap book. Khao San Road is (understandably) a shadow of its former used book-self.

Morning: Crap, order in brekkie, a peak in here, second crap (the foul one), then off to the gym, meditate 1 hour upon my return. The rest of the day is likewise as packed out.

A droll, perfect book, now out of print. Since then Ajahn Chah, the abbot, has grown a lot in popularity. Jack Kornfeld, a very famous meditation teacher, collected some of lectures into a book. I recently saw a Reddit post of someone who wanted to meditate in the Ajahn Chat tradition. Tthere isn't such a place. The forest wat outside Ubon will let you pop in for a breakfast, but after 3 days, it's head-shaving time. Some Thai's know of him. The comment I've gotten a few times is that he wouldn't allow amulets to be made, since it was idol worship.

Give it a miss. It was a hard read back in the day. Now? Prob incomprehensible. Worth a wiki-skim about her mad life, tho.

The beauty of this comment is that you said the exact same thing, like 18 months ago. Prediction: this book will remain un-dug out.

Not for me. Only ThaiBeachLover leaving would be more of a hammer-blow to the heart.

Bob whenever you do vanish for a bit here, they're practically singing candle in the wind, praying for your return. Not me, tho. I laugh in their faces. Like you do.

I think it's mostly the pool area that's in The Serpent. The nearby Honey House was another old classic. Cleo did a better book about Goa where she lived till her early death. How I met Cleo: I bought a reviewer copy at The Strand BookStore in New York and her email was on the back. Cleo was not amused that her book was being sold months before publication. We met up in the nearby beatnik-legend bar nearby, The Cedar Tavern. And then again in Goa, by chance in the beach. Bonkers, yes, Brilliant, absolutely.

Two slices of cheddar on whole wheat with a thin spreading of mango chutney and a splash of Tabasco is my go-to when I need to eat, but don't want a meal. Praise to England, no other nation ever took the concept as toast so seriously.

I more like the idea of Trink than the mostly dross he churned out; calling go-go bars nighteries and hookers, demimondes. He was the pinnacle of the golden era of mongers, wearing big medallions and over-tailored shirts. I have stayed the Miami Hotel on soi, where the film The Serpent was filmed to good effect. It's been done up since, but retains it's retro charm. Is it still open? I was thinking about booking it? I knew Cleo Odzer who wrote Patpong Sisters, the first feminist, post-modernist critique -but surely unread here, except possibly by Gamma.

Spent a month next to Mkt village, a great food area. Proper yellow curry abounding and a very solid, cheap sushi place in a soi next door.

Gamma, you're the Garbo of the board, but I'd love to take you out for a six bucks Pad Thai. The AseanNow universe as we know it would implode.

Just not enough of us cheapskates to warrant a single drone sitting at a formica desk.

He's crying out to be ignored. Oh well, back to it.

He thinks liberals are a secret society, arrayed conspiratorially agains him. I'm enjoying it.

Yeah, that was a well-spent half a mil on medical school to end up in Pattaya milking the likes of Bob for nickels and dimes. Who has lower self-esteem? Bob or the imaginary doctor?

Think of the sweet agony of being a Ritchie-rich and having your personal assistant utter the dreaded words: "It's Trump on the phone. Again. Are you in or still at the dentist?"

Lost in Time-Fattie is now detailing his plans to invade Cuba: https://www.mediaite.com/trump/trump-hints-at-toppling-cuban-government-its-gonna-be-changed/ In later news, Lost In Time-Fattie expressed surprise that Lindbergh made it all the way home.

I def like that we're both members of The Red Pill Church. I'm light-pink, you're fire engine-red. My wife is actually redder than me. Really? You'd prefer Shakira to Jane? In later news, BritManToo revealed that water is wet.

Nuh-nuh not so fast on Fattie's all-caps texting incontinence about claiming he has a half a bil in the bank. His perennially embarrassed trash-lawyers are frantically trying to walk it back: https://www.rawstory.com/trutmp-s-lawyers-scramble-to-explain-away-his-500-million-boast/ Can I be the first to laugh at the cuck-retards here who accepted this as fact right out of the gate? I believe I can be.

Gotta disagree. Across all ages, women swipe right on only the top 20% of men. That means the top 20% of looks, mostly. A good bank book and confident demeanor can only shift your odds a bit, maybe 15%. Just like there is a looks-threshold below which most men won't go, no matter how kinky or sweet she is, so too do men run out of options if they don't meet most women's looks threshold. The wall is a pathetic revenge fantasy. Jane Fonda can still pull if she wants to.

Is half your age, plus seven still a thing? I was entertaining my fellow group tour members in Morocco with this durable trope. None of the old married guys weren't doing the math. Problem with going too young: The ball sack problem. How long can they look at that low-hanging wrinkled mess and talk themselves out of being yucked? My guess: about 6 months. No wait, really more like 3. Possible solution: Blindfold them when they're down there; maybe dress it up with a bit of 50 Shades of Grey-nonsense. Or get a ball sack nip and tuck. A fellow oldie? She has no choice but to be grateful for that saggy prune stuffed with 2 raisins. Still no day at the beach for her, tho. My (American) wife is 11 years younger. A few years ago, I was looking at Long Term Care Insurance. She said: "Honey, I'M your long term care insurance". Once you go much younger than that, that promise tends to be much less reliable.

Gotta toss you into the pile that my sweet wife schooled me to refer to as neuro-diverse. Have a great life.