Alpha84

The posts from each new version of you keep getting duller, more uninteresting and increasingly forgettable. Honestly, the next time you throw a tantrum and vanish for a month or so, I can’t think of a single reason you should bother clicking the AN Sign Up button again after your hangover wears off.

I’d like to ask a sincere and respectful question, and I hope it can be met with equally thoughtful replies. This isn’t about sex or physical desire. It’s about connection, communication, companionship and emotional compatibility. For those who have personal experience spending time with ladyboys in Thailand, how does that compare to spending time with women in terms of emotional dynamics and relationship and bonding potential? I’m referring to aspects like empathy, understanding, communication style, emotional intelligence and maturity, and general outlook on life. Of course, every person is unique and individual personalities will always differ. But I’m wondering if those who have had these experiences have noticed any consistent patterns or qualities that stand out. Do ladyboys tend to approach relationships differently? Are they more open-minded or emotionally available? Or are the dynamics generally similar to those with women? I’ve noticed that many men seem to form close bonds with ladyboys in Thailand, and it made me wonder whether there’s something deeper to these relationships beyond what people often assume. Hoping for honest and respectful insights from those who can speak from experience or at least from some personal knowledge on the subject.

You mean there are lots of stupid ones like this one?

You don't have to get fancy with your wording. Everyone just calls them ladyboys now.

Post a link to your preferred seller of 'personal toys' on Lazada and I'll pass it on.

You seem to have knowledge about gay men and dildos. Please post photos for us that don't have any of your knowledge, Nancy.

Possibly something made from silicone or TPE. I didn't ask for details.

So I assume you are not going to do that then?

This is a straightforward inquiry regarding the potential legal or criminal risks of bringing a single personal item of a sexual nature, such as a sex toy, into Thailand in checked luggage. Thai law appears to classify such items as “obscene objects,” which are technically prohibited from being imported, possessed, or sold. Penalties for violations may include up to three years of imprisonment, a fine of up to 60,000 baht, or both. However, it is unclear how strictly this law is applied in practice, particularly in cases involving discreet transport of a single item for personal use. That said, I’m looking for informed responses from anyone with firsthand experience or credible knowledge of how strictly this law is enforced in practice, particularly when it comes to discreetly traveling with a single item intended for private, personal use. This is a genuine legal question submitted on behalf of a friend who would like to understand the real-world enforcement risks in order to avoid any unintentional violations while traveling.

No. Only you.

Once upon a time, Thailand was a land of silky curves, cheeky smiles, and women so dangerously fit you’d need a seatbelt just to walk past them. Now? Forget it. The once-sleek jungle cats have been replaced by something a lot closer to water buffalo. Look, I’m not saying everyone’s gotten fat. I’m saying if this trend continues, the national flower will be a fried chicken drumstick wrapped in clingfilm. I used to see beautiful tigresses in the wild. Sleek. Fierce. Dangerous. Now I see pandas in yoga pants licking sweetened condensed milk off their fingers and calling it a personality. What happened? Was there a national campaign to eat every carb in a five-mile radius? Are they breeding in food courts now? There’s a 7-Eleven near me that’s basically turned into a snack-based mating arena. You’ve got girls triple-wielding steamed buns, cheese toasties, and that weird orange sausage thing like they’re in an apocalyptic food-eating contest. One even had two bubble teas at once. I thought she was dual-wielding insulin shots. And don’t get me started on the gym situation. I went to one last week. Empty. Dusty. One sad treadmill being used as a handbag stand. The only squats anyone’s doing lately are to reach a fallen pork rind. I haven’t slept with one in well over a year. I tried. I really did. I wore some moo-satay cologne. I smiled. I used big words like “emotional availability.” Nothing. They just looked at me like I was a spring roll they forgot to order. One even said, “No boom boom, just food food.” I wept. Now I’m stuck swiping through dating apps where the profiles read like buffet menus. “Love eating. Food is life. Big arse, big belly, big heart.” This isn’t hate. This is grief. This is mourning. I came here seeking tigresses. Dangerous creatures. Seductresses. And instead I’ve been left with middle aged aunties in crop tops chasing me with kilos of french-fries and marriage proposals. Please. If you’re out there. If there’s still one tigresses left in the jungle, send me a sign. Flash a thigh. Do a pull-up. Put down the deep fried banana. I’m begging you. Used to be, you’d walk down Sukhumvit and your neck would snap from whiplash every ten steps. Now the only thing snapping is the elastic waistband of someone’s knockoff Hello Kitty leggings. And they just sort of roll over these days. Literally. One tried to mount me. I sprained a rib escaping. I don’t know what they’re feeding them, but it clearly isn’t self-control. Sticky rice and regret? Fried chicken dipped in a gallon of honey? I saw one eat mango with coconut cream and then chase it with a plate of fried pork skin dipped in what I can only describe as industrial-grade palm oil juice. And she said, “Diet starts Monday.” Monday 2045, I assume. It’s like every food delivery app is now a co-conspirator. Who needs charm when you’ve got a motorcycle boy bringing you moo ping three times a day? Honestly, I’m not fat-shaming. I’m fat-noticing. There’s a difference. And I’d just like to lodge an official complaint with the Ministry of Aesthetics. Because this tiger’s lonely. And celibate. And no one wants to hear that from a man with a wallet full of money and no normal-sized tigresses to spend it on.

Did the paper route. Made about $15 a week. Blew most of it on pinball and pizza in a day. Came home in the winter with practically frost bitten fingers after morning delivery. Put the fingers under cold water to warm them up. Spent a whole day on Saturday assembling the Sunday paper. They were so heavy had to make two trips to deliver all on Sunday. Many people wouldn’t come to the door once a week when I would go to collect the $2.5 for a week of delivery. Eventually I forced most of those nasty ones to quit the delivery service by throwing their papers at their door from 20 feet away instead of sticking it through the slot. By the time it landed on their doorstep, it looked more like a bob smith porn mag after he had fapped all over it. My best customer was a lovely black woman. She always paid on time and was my best tipper. She got her papers first and always in pristine condition. The school of hard knocks.

Don’t cry bob. It’s not becoming.

Thrilling

Great! So the diet is working?

You’re having a bad day. Starting rubbish topics and nobody cares. AI doesn’t work. Booo Hoooo. 😂

You mean it doesn’t?

I hope not. You’d be greatly disappointed.

Food obsessed. Must be another fat farang.

Still, nobody cares.

Oh, fatty farang, you’re back? Just finished moaning about your inability to use AI, did you?

MAGA??? Make America Gay Again???

Wow, you had a whole entire paper route? Amazing. Give the plonker a round of applause, even though nobody gives a flying toss. 🤩

Useless topic. Nobody cares.

TLDR. Another sorry arse plonker isolated in Burrinowhere with no friends and nobody willing to listen to his whining and whose highlight of the week is a pilgrimage to Makro. 😂