Prubangboy

I really wish hookers could get me hard. My ultimate conclusion is that if I want to have sex with someone who's super-not into me, I have 2 ex-wives to dial up. I envy the powerful suspension of disbelief I read about here. A 5 who's into me trumps a 9 who just wants a nice handbag. Posters like RDS and Yagoda are my idols. In the meantime, I'm waxing it twice a day until I eventually fall into some kind of situation ship. I have the prostate of an 18 year old boy. Thank god he doesn't want it back. I'm going to an Internations Org. meet up tonight to try my luck. I hear that where the white women over 40 in Bangkok congregate like impalas around a watering hole. Am I risking physical injury by informing retard-fist fight threatening Susan as to my whereabouts? If it comes down to it, I'll just say I'm not me. And then whisper "40 baht gym" to him just as the elevator doors close.

Gotta agree. If you are in fact a Man Going Your Own Way, at some point, you do have to actually shuffle off and go some version of your own way. You can't keep looking over your shoulder, hoping that women will notice (and regret!) that you have left the playing field. Tho I do respect the very stoic renunciation aspect of what they're saying. Downgrading women as a life focus can make some sense for some men, and possibl7 for most men at some point in their lives. Post recent painful breakup, I am def in some version of monk mode. I doubt it will be permanent, but at 72, you never know. I'm not angry at women, or my ex. I just want to be off the merry go round for an indeterminate while. And it feels very chill. I have been chasing women for 60 years. The only thing I have liked longer is chocolate chip cookies -which I am also giving a hard miss of late.

Me too.

Sooo many variables: are they really into you. Will they stay into you? Are you into them back? Why? Suppose you're a homely old loser and nobody is into you?

After my dismal rub and tug attempt, I took her out for sushi. Using the translator app, she told me a lot about her voo doo-like candonomble faith. I told her about Buddha. I loved seeing a Buddha in a whore house. Prob not a thing in Thailand. Sweet kid, she offered me a free re-do after she ordered up a second tempura. All in, cost less than a private day tour. I am willing to wear the shower of judgement and worrying about my impact on "society" like a badge.

That def sounds fantastic and I envy you those times. But I am the opposite of a demisexual. Those people need to have an intense connection to their partner to feel horny. I am a reverse-demi. I just need them to be super-attracted to me. I have zero moral judgement of others who have different sex temperaments. At 71 and in need of yet another year in the gym, that's always going to be a small cohort. What I want from a woman is not purchasable. Like I said, if I could, I would. But if many guys CAN purchase it, I'm really happy for them. As to sex you'd be too shy to ask your wife for, I say marry a diff wife. Sex compatibility trumps all other non-moral issues in a marriage.

You can read about my failed attempt at prostitution in my Brazil Travel Report. Not for me. Glad others are busting a nut in peace.

Crap sex at cheap prices. The only person who seems let down by this prospect is you. I see only sex-pragmatists here who are realistic about how hard whores should "try". I'm only willing to give up a tiny bit of mental bandwidth to worrying about the globe aspects of my specific behavior affecting my "fellow man". J ust like my fellow man isn't really all that into my own individual welfare. This world view just seems like a virtue signaling downer.

What, exactly? We are all free agents. We can pay, seek out other options, or abstain. What makes you worry so much about "society"? Society never gives you even a passing thought. Make your own choice. Tend your own garden. I wish I could get into having sex with prostitutes and seriously envy people who enjoy it. But if they're not into me, I can't really get hard. I'm like, "let me do me, at least I'm into me". If I could pay women to be into me, I would. But I tried, I failed, and I gave up. To dress up my own particular temperament on this as a moral stance or a prescription for others would be mad. The nearest parallel I can think of is gambling. It's another minor vice that I find baffling. Do I feel the need to tell people not to buy Lotto tickets? No. Because I am not a crazy person.

I don't get the judgement of this person. Are the judgers here giving any money to charities like Cabbages and and Condoms -or will their sputtering OCD retardation be the full and complete extent of their fake concern? We know the answer in advance. He's upfront about what he wants, seems comfortable in his own skin, harms no one, and engages with consenting adults. He's not relationship material and he's not torturing anyone by pretending he is. He seems broadly happy and well-adjusted, and enjoys a good troll. Except for the whore-thing, he could be me.

Some São Paulo thoughts: It lacks much of a definable downtown. And it's very hilly, like San Fran. For a county's business center, it feels very lax. And it really sprawls. We went up to some Empire State Building-like overlook ($10 for a small pineapple juice) and it was a very Bladerunner view -an endless series of mostly white towers, punctuated with bits of green. It's def greener than Mex City. The low-rise area I am staying def reminds me of Polenco, Mex City. there's a couple of bar restaurants, a small supermarket, and lots of barking dogs. Everything being so spread out makes it feel a bit dead or a bit chill, depending on your temperament. You're never far away from an arty protest-mural or an ugly modern sculpture. A lot of people are wearing heavy metal tee shirts. For some reason, Iron Maiden appear to be gods here. I went to the rock tee shirt mall and Iron Maiden was at least a third of it. Nirvana and Pink Floyd are distant seconds and thirds. Popped into an avant garde concert. A fat woman was wearing a dress made of meat. If any old punks here remember Nina Hagen, it was like that. All ages at the show, everyone dressed to death. A bit of a trial to sit through all of that dirge-like wailing, but when will I likely ever be at underground-type event again, sitting on scaffolding? I was partying like it was 1979. Not much uptick food wise here, but there was a dim sum place I went to twice in Japantown, which was much smaller and dumpier than I thought it would be. Tried upscale sushi and it was like hotel buffet sushi in Thailand. They seem to love Italian food, but it's like Coneheads guessing at what it might be like. Much better Bahia food than I had in Bahia. Best meal was an Indonesian place, where everyone was eating Pad Thai. I went for a massage. The tattooed cutie took of all her clothes and did a lot of body to body rubbing. She said, "let me be your Brazilian wife". I didn't want a hand job, but we had a sweet little snuggle. My friend had the sugar baby he's auditioning bring a friend for me. She's studying Freud (big here at Iron Maiden-levels). "I have Daddy issues" she said, and smootched me hard in the parking lot, hoping to rope me into a thousand a month deal. I also went to Scandalo's, a Scarface-movie luxury brothel out by the airport. If you take a shower, they will put their face back "there" as part of the standard program. 'Had a lovely plate of sushi, some zany "back there" chats with my translation app and passed. I'm not a pay for play person at all (tho I love to hear about it from others), but compared to Thailand, it seems like this is a much more erotic and friendly place to do all this stuff. It shows how sex really is cultural, that a place that is western in sexual outlook makes for a more visceral connection. It's not nearly as in your face as Suk Road, It's all tucked away with no signs and down side streets. I will happily come back here next year, not just for friendship maintenance, but because I haven't felt like I was was in a truly foreign-feeling place in a very long time. Very little outreach to tourists and not much to entice them to linger here. I'll bet there's a tourist vibe in Rio, but not at all in São Paulo.

The Salvador beach was a very dirty, cigarette-strewn, very narrow strip of very brown sand. One of the best beach days of my life. Packed in with paid loungers and umbrellas barely any room to move. Sellers of everything from cheap sunglasses to prawns on a stick. Huge boomboxes blaring Afro-Brazilian beats. People of every gender kissing. Fatties in thongs, by the dozen. All black. Where else on earth could old whities dip into this without fear or dread.?It was like Negril, Jamaica without grief. We asked for spliffs, two small ones arrived. Like the kind of weed you had in high school. Mine had a twig in it. Then the downer at the end: An $80 tab. For "protection" from the police. We bluffed a bit, but another big guy showed up. We paid. And tried not to let it kill our vibe. Those 4 hours were worth it.

Occasionally I will get patted on the gut by a cutie and asked, "where is bay-bee"? I pretend I don't understand and ask back, "you want to make a baby with me? Let's do it right now". Always gets a playful little punch in the arm.

On the other hand, I just had a triple shot of Havana Club Blue Label (the rum grail) at a nowhere little bar in our São Paulo Air BNB neighborhood. $6. Came with some peanuts and a few gerkins. I also got a great Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon Sweat shirt for $20. for over-a/c'd flight home. So a great day out. Overpriced -and great drink bargains- threadjacks are welcome in this thread.

I have burned a flag. On the 4th of July, no less. -To celebrate my constitutional right of free speech to do so. I'd be happy to do it again in front of your retard, impotent face. Meanwhile, Don Jr. wants RFK to "blow up" a federal agency if appointed (ha!). This feeds neatly into the 2025 speech Kamala is going to beat them over the head with. They want chaos and no government services. Will Cokehead say which agency? No. He will run away faster than RainMan II does. We no longer have to attack them. We can just point to any gun they like to have in the room with them and watch them run over, grapple with it and shoot themselves in their stupid foot.

No tax treaty with the. USA.

Also, they somehow have never heard of a rum and coke here. Half the time, they bring a very sugary mojito with way too much un-muddled mint instead. If you buy a property for more than $175K, you can get residency. That amount get you half the quality of Thailand. High tax rates kick in very early here after 6 months. My friend will do six months in Argentina a year to side step that. 'Seems like too much trouble for the spanky women, but he's a man on a mission. I agree with Kramer above: You'd have to be crazy to spend 30% more to live here for half the quality of life.

Had Feijoada yesterday. You can order a light version, free of the dross for double the money. I def suggest you do. To compensate, they tossed a pork chop on top. There's a tear drop shaped deep friend thing with a tiny bit of meat in it that's another grease bomb that's everywhere. And very spongey cheese bread little nuggets. These 3 items and the maquetta stew would be what you'd make in a cooking class. Inexplicably charging $120 here. But again, always a full aperitif bar on offer even in a dump. Such esoterica as Cynar (more bitter Campari) and Bunterberg (Jagermeister from hell) is available to chase down your pig ear. The Caprihinia cocktail tastes like a Marguerita from Tijuana skid row. like grain alcohol with a lime -and a ton of sugar. Begging for no sugar is successful 50% of the time. Were these people ever lucky enough to sip a San Tip, they would think it was Johnny Walker.

Salvador promised a bit of the old voodoo culture but it was less accessible than even in New Orleans. There's a cultural show twice a week. 4 hours long. The tour seller at the hotel was honest: "it's only 2 hours long, the rest of the time is hotel pickup and drop-off'. So in a way, def a very Brazilian cultural experience. This place is not built for tourism at all. Without my Portuguese-speaking friend, I'd have been fairly lost. Ubers will often tell you that you need to walk somewhere else to get picked up. They tell you this in Portuguese. The old town resembles the French Quarter. Not so much historically preserved as simply left alone. A few un-touristy shops selling African beads and white dresses for their ceremonies. Very beautiful and mostly empty. No English spoken. Some Havana-like bars, maybe half a dozen restaurants with an English menu. We went to TA #1 choice, Oydoyo, and ordered a moquetta, a vast bubbling stew of various banana's and your choice of protein. Not a lot of taste. They fear the chili spice here. It's like yellow curry for hospice patients. Later, at a 5* restaurant near the water, it was the same indifferent service and tepid red snapper with a smear of hospice yellow sauce atop a pile of pureed plantains, Def NYC prices. Salads are must orders in Brazil due meticulous chopping of everything into tiny bits and dozens of ingredients. An Anthony Bourdain landmark had what looked like giant falafels stuffed with small unshelled shrimp (why?) and mashed yucca. A green coconut seller had left his post unattended for the length of our meal (30 minute wait for street food) so they were not available. The biggest grease bomb of my life, surpassing even low rent kabobs in England after pub-closing. Napkins? Seriously? We went to the mall to buy pants, like a Thai mall on valium. They promised alterations that day, 2 days later, but after dozens of heartfelt texts explaining what was going on with the pants, we went back to the mall to investigate. Profuse apologies, and a promise of hotel delivery by midnight. And then they pointed behind the cashier to a small bar set up. Double shots of 18 year old Chivas Regal and a small cheese plate were put out. We laughed about life and pants. For 2 hours. They kept pouring drinks and begging us not to leave. So when people ask why I like Brazil when there's really not that much to see or do there, the food is blah, and everything is a soft hassle, I say "that".

Air Emerits. 90 minute stop in Dubai. They emailed a business class upgrade for $600 per trip leg. I took it. Very, very plush. Addis is not currently safe to walk around in. I wanted to go for the zany Afro-Mod architecture. The famous community of old repatriated Rasta's is all but extinct. That's the other reason I passed. Turkish Air was the other option I considered because buying RT's to Istanbul and then on to São Paulo was only $200 diff. Jet lag was brutal, but Chiang Mai has a place where you can but Xanax easily.

Tinder game for my friend was through the roof in Salvador, but the usual Brazilian problem: the flake factor was also through the roof. He set up 12 sure-thing dates. All solid 9's. All blew him off. We were only there for 3 days, but he's a seasoned Brazilian-phile, so he knew to overbook. The sugar thing here is the way to go. Unlike elsewhere, they're all early 30's. Call it triple the going Thai rate. And you have to speak Portuguese.

Seriously?

Yes (in spirit), but uh, no. Brazil is an under the radar women-meeting paradise. I'm here visiting my friend who left New York to live here and study very hard Portuguese specifically for the women. It sure aint the food. Suppose you're a male sapiosexual who wants to have sex with young intellectuals who read Jean Paul Sartre. Jean Paul is buyable at most newsstands. Bukowski is Beatles-level big here too. Everyone has their nose in a book. Eat in the most basic restaurant, Coltrane is on the soundtrack. Go to an art museum, you need a reservation. Super-fashionable in a very local-centric way too. They're poor at near Thai-levels, but semi-genius. Suppose your tastes run a little kinky. That's more attainable here among good looking women than anywhere else. Is there a correlation between Sartre-loving and bondage-loving? My friend says, "I hope so. I think so".

Over on Slate, there's a funny article about his various minions going on TV and pretending he didn't say "there are good people on both sides (on both sides)" about the flat-out nazi's in Charlottesville. But every man, woman, and child on earth saw him say it, and this whole new video thing blows up this RainMan II-like claim. What's more infuriating than gas-lighting? Well, completely inept gas-lighting for one thing. We are two weeks of mental decline away from him declaring that not only didn't he say it, but his dog ate his homework too.

Flew from the falls to Salvador. Def check in on the early side in Brazil. Little English is spoken, check in systems and long lines are very variable. Flights aren't cheap ($300 one way). Booked into the Wish Hotel De Bahia, a 60's modernist semi-masterpiece with lots of bass-relief murals and old fixtures ($120 a night). I booked it way early and the hotel did sell out. Check in took 40 minutes, a very Brazilian experience. The hotel guests were 80% Brazilian, the rest mainly from N. America. Only one other option there for a full service hotel ($350 a night, old mansion). I was afraid to pull the trigger on one of the very small hotels in the old historic district ($40-ish), due to fear of crime, which is def way overstated on Reddit. 'Wish I did, since The Wish Hotel had a truly terrible restaurant; about 80% of the food comes out of the deep fryer. $3 Havana Club 7 year old-shots tho, and lots of aperitif-type cocktails in a bar setting that Connery-Bond would have felt very comfortable in. Lovely guitar lady doing all the Bossa Nova hits you almost remember. Paying for a drink takes a half hour and involves multiple staff members. The electricity kept flipping on and off, the internet too. Unless you're in the historic center, there's not a lot of places to walk to, given the traffic and very few traffic light crossings. If São Paulo felt (a bit -don't go crazy) like a more urban Mex City, Salvador is a less depressing Havana. Lots of old stores selling wigs, lots of street food of the very deep fried variety. The locals are very mixed between Portuguese and full-on, undiluted African. I have never seen such visually interesting people in my life.