Jump to content

Disgusting Vegan behaviour in Chiang Mai


SundayAfternoon

Recommended Posts

  • Replies 144
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

More plant based dippies:

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/off-grid-couple-home-school-8435421

I like this part:

Adele disguised the smell of rotting flesh with a mixture of rose petals and salt water. She said: “If babies were meant to have their umbilical cords cut at birth we’d be born with scissors. It worked beautifully and the umbilical cord eventually fell away to make a perfect belly button."

Ahhh... years of science, evolution, and progess, knocked on the head because scissors aren't natural.

The natural way is for the mother to chew through the cord and eat it, then lick the blood off the baby, before eating the afterbirth... that is what nearly all other mammals and primates do to my knowledge.

Her letting it rot away is not natural and potentially fatal to her baby if bacteria got into the babies body through the rotting cords attacked to its stomach.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

More plant based dippies:

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/off-grid-couple-home-school-8435421

I like this part:

Adele disguised the smell of rotting flesh with a mixture of rose petals and salt water. She said: “If babies were meant to have their umbilical cords cut at birth we’d be born with scissors. It worked beautifully and the umbilical cord eventually fell away to make a perfect belly button."

Ahhh... years of science, evolution, and progess, knocked on the head because scissors aren't natural.

we were born with teeth.

We? Not me, mine grew in later.... freak of nature you?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

More plant based dippies:

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/off-grid-couple-home-school-8435421

I like this part:

Adele disguised the smell of rotting flesh with a mixture of rose petals and salt water. She said: If babies were meant to have their umbilical cords cut at birth wed be born with scissors. It worked beautifully and the umbilical cord eventually fell away to make a perfect belly button."

Ahhh... years of science, evolution, and progess, knocked on the head because scissors aren't natural.

we were born with teeth.

We? Not me, mine grew in later.... freak of nature you?

So it would seem.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I find it highly offensive. If I see it happen I will promptly be calling the Royal Thai Police and lodging a formal complaint. I carry my point and shoot with me at all time, and would not hesitate to take photographic evidence to present to the police.

Ricky, I feel a little bit embarrassed posting this on a public forum, but here it goes. Ever since you joined ThaiVisa, I've been reading your posts--in fact I've been following them. Kind of obsessed, to be honest. There's a certain feeling I get when reading your words, like an electric buzz pulsing through me. Maybe it's your no-nonsense phrasing, maybe it's the way you declare your offense at exposed female breasts. Your words carry a virility, a masculinity, a mixture of brotherly love and fatherly strictness that stirs me in the most unmentionable ways.

We haven't met, so I've had to make do by imagining what you look like: the muscles of your broad, dominant hands wrapped around the spine of the Holy Bible (Good News edition, right?); the flash of milky white calf peeping out above your socks and sandals; the Herculean arch of your shoulders stretching the very fibers of your bluish-grey polyester safari suit. I dream of you crawling into your nylon mosquito netting after a long day at Church, or on the road, or at the police station, wearing nothing but a sensible XXL t-shirt and tighty whities. God, Ricky, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Rick (can I call you Rick?), I know these forbidden desires present some practical problems. What will the members of the Church think? Won't they miss you when you fail to show up on Sunday mornings, or any other day of the week, as I detain you with my selfish, carnal, insatiable needs? Who will play the electric keyboard in the Church band? And I feel conflicted about the harm our love will do to Mrs. Doofus. I can picture her now, in her best flowered frock, waiting anxiously in the parking lot, holding hands with your two pasty children, their thick plastic glasses fogging up from the humidity, their white socks drooping disconsolately.

But, like you Ricky (I've dropped using Rick, because Ricky better fits your boyish derring-do), I am a man of faith--I know we can make this work. And I am determined. OK, so you haven't replied to my private messages, but that's ok. I know the internet can be tricky. I stopped by 17 Chiang Mai churches last Sunday hoping to locate you, but to no avail. Seventeen down, 44 more to go. I got some funny looks from the Koreans, and a few offers from women in bonnetts, but oh how they don't know my heart, and my singular pursuit of the Ricky of my dreams. I even swung by Richy-Rich Land on the ring road, on a lark, but the trail went colder than Uriah the Hittite's love muscle.

Well, Ricky, I suppose we could go on chatting like this all evening. But I suppose you've got things to do. Maybe chopping wood with an axe, then measuring it in cubits. And soon it will get dark, and I wouldn't want your flock to get the wrong idea about a man of the Book staying online after sunset. For my part, I'll be plotting tomorrow's search on Google Maps (Bake and Bite? The Duke's? Butter is Better? Sayuri?) Sweet dreams, my Ricky (Martin!), my Prince of Piece, my Man-nonite, my Hunkite!

Puwa,

I don't know whether to laugh or be concerned at your post. However I will pray for you and your family tonight.

God Bless

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I find it highly offensive. If I see it happen I will promptly be calling the Royal Thai Police and lodging a formal complaint. I carry my point and shoot with me at all time, and would not hesitate to take photographic evidence to present to the police.

Ricky, I feel a little bit embarrassed posting this on a public forum, but here it goes. Ever since you joined ThaiVisa, I've been reading your posts--in fact I've been following them. Kind of obsessed, to be honest. There's a certain feeling I get when reading your words, like an electric buzz pulsing through me. Maybe it's your no-nonsense phrasing, maybe it's the way you declare your offense at exposed female breasts. Your words carry a virility, a masculinity, a mixture of brotherly love and fatherly strictness that stirs me in the most unmentionable ways.

We haven't met, so I've had to make do by imagining what you look like: the muscles of your broad, dominant hands wrapped around the spine of the Holy Bible (Good News edition, right?); the flash of milky white calf peeping out above your socks and sandals; the Herculean arch of your shoulders stretching the very fibers of your bluish-grey polyester safari suit. I dream of you crawling into your nylon mosquito netting after a long day at Church, or on the road, or at the police station, wearing nothing but a sensible XXL t-shirt and tighty whities. God, Ricky, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Rick (can I call you Rick?), I know these forbidden desires present some practical problems. What will the members of the Church think? Won't they miss you when you fail to show up on Sunday mornings, or any other day of the week, as I detain you with my selfish, carnal, insatiable needs? Who will play the electric keyboard in the Church band? And I feel conflicted about the harm our love will do to Mrs. Doofus. I can picture her now, in her best flowered frock, waiting anxiously in the parking lot, holding hands with your two pasty children, their thick plastic glasses fogging up from the humidity, their white socks drooping disconsolately.

But, like you Ricky (I've dropped using Rick, because Ricky better fits your boyish derring-do), I am a man of faith--I know we can make this work. And I am determined. OK, so you haven't replied to my private messages, but that's ok. I know the internet can be tricky. I stopped by 17 Chiang Mai churches last Sunday hoping to locate you, but to no avail. Seventeen down, 44 more to go. I got some funny looks from the Koreans, and a few offers from women in bonnetts, but oh how they don't know my heart, and my singular pursuit of the Ricky of my dreams. I even swung by Richy-Rich Land on the ring road, on a lark, but the trail went colder than Uriah the Hittite's love muscle.

Well, Ricky, I suppose we could go on chatting like this all evening. But I suppose you've got things to do. Maybe chopping wood with an axe, then measuring it in cubits. And soon it will get dark, and I wouldn't want your flock to get the wrong idea about a man of the Book staying online after sunset. For my part, I'll be plotting tomorrow's search on Google Maps (Bake and Bite? The Duke's? Butter is Better? Sayuri?) Sweet dreams, my Ricky (Martin!), my Prince of Piece, my Man-nonite, my Hunkite!

Puwa,

I don't know whether to laugh or be concerned at your post. However I will pray for you and your family tonight.

God Bless

Oh Ricky, the idea of you on your knees, for any purpose, gets me going again.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What's the connection between avoiding animal products and supporting equality for women?

Both are for effete leftists. Manly men keep their woman barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen cooking meat.

Edited by suzannegoh
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I find it highly offensive. If I see it happen I will promptly be calling the Royal Thai Police and lodging a formal complaint. I carry my point and shoot with me at all time, and would not hesitate to take photographic evidence to present to the police.

Ricky, I feel a little bit embarrassed posting this on a public forum, but here it goes. Ever since you joined ThaiVisa, I've been reading your posts--in fact I've been following them. Kind of obsessed, to be honest. There's a certain feeling I get when reading your words, like an electric buzz pulsing through me. Maybe it's your no-nonsense phrasing, maybe it's the way you declare your offense at exposed female breasts. Your words carry a virility, a masculinity, a mixture of brotherly love and fatherly strictness that stirs me in the most unmentionable ways.

We haven't met, so I've had to make do by imagining what you look like: the muscles of your broad, dominant hands wrapped around the spine of the Holy Bible (Good News edition, right?); the flash of milky white calf peeping out above your socks and sandals; the Herculean arch of your shoulders stretching the very fibers of your bluish-grey polyester safari suit. I dream of you crawling into your nylon mosquito netting after a long day at Church, or on the road, or at the police station, wearing nothing but a sensible XXL t-shirt and tighty whities. God, Ricky, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Rick (can I call you Rick?), I know these forbidden desires present some practical problems. What will the members of the Church think? Won't they miss you when you fail to show up on Sunday mornings, or any other day of the week, as I detain you with my selfish, carnal, insatiable needs? Who will play the electric keyboard in the Church band? And I feel conflicted about the harm our love will do to Mrs. Doofus. I can picture her now, in her best flowered frock, waiting anxiously in the parking lot, holding hands with your two pasty children, their thick plastic glasses fogging up from the humidity, their white socks drooping disconsolately.

But, like you Ricky (I've dropped using Rick, because Ricky better fits your boyish derring-do), I am a man of faith--I know we can make this work. And I am determined. OK, so you haven't replied to my private messages, but that's ok. I know the internet can be tricky. I stopped by 17 Chiang Mai churches last Sunday hoping to locate you, but to no avail. Seventeen down, 44 more to go. I got some funny looks from the Koreans, and a few offers from women in bonnetts, but oh how they don't know my heart, and my singular pursuit of the Ricky of my dreams. I even swung by Richy-Rich Land on the ring road, on a lark, but the trail went colder than Uriah the Hittite's love muscle.

Well, Ricky, I suppose we could go on chatting like this all evening. But I suppose you've got things to do. Maybe chopping wood with an axe, then measuring it in cubits. And soon it will get dark, and I wouldn't want your flock to get the wrong idea about a man of the Book staying online after sunset. For my part, I'll be plotting tomorrow's search on Google Maps (Bake and Bite? The Duke's? Butter is Better? Sayuri?) Sweet dreams, my Ricky (Martin!), my Prince of Piece, my Man-nonite, my Hunkite!

Puwa,

I don't know whether to laugh or be concerned at your post. However I will pray for you and your family tonight.

God Bless

Oh Ricky, the idea of you on your knees, for any purpose, gets me going again.

You have a place reserved in hell i'm sure.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What's the connection between avoiding animal products and supporting equality for women?

have you ever seen a woman take down a buffalo to feed her family?

Dude, wherever it is you're smoking, try a little more tobacco with it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I find it highly offensive. If I see it happen I will promptly be calling the Royal Thai Police and lodging a formal complaint. I carry my point and shoot with me at all time, and would not hesitate to take photographic evidence to present to the police.

Ricky, I feel a little bit embarrassed posting this on a public forum, but here it goes. Ever since you joined ThaiVisa, I've been reading your posts--in fact I've been following them. Kind of obsessed, to be honest. There's a certain feeling I get when reading your words, like an electric buzz pulsing through me. Maybe it's your no-nonsense phrasing, maybe it's the way you declare your offense at exposed female breasts. Your words carry a virility, a masculinity, a mixture of brotherly love and fatherly strictness that stirs me in the most unmentionable ways.

We haven't met, so I've had to make do by imagining what you look like: the muscles of your broad, dominant hands wrapped around the spine of the Holy Bible (Good News edition, right?); the flash of milky white calf peeping out above your socks and sandals; the Herculean arch of your shoulders stretching the very fibers of your bluish-grey polyester safari suit. I dream of you crawling into your nylon mosquito netting after a long day at Church, or on the road, or at the police station, wearing nothing but a sensible XXL t-shirt and tighty whities. God, Ricky, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Rick (can I call you Rick?), I know these forbidden desires present some practical problems. What will the members of the Church think? Won't they miss you when you fail to show up on Sunday mornings, or any other day of the week, as I detain you with my selfish, carnal, insatiable needs? Who will play the electric keyboard in the Church band? And I feel conflicted about the harm our love will do to Mrs. Doofus. I can picture her now, in her best flowered frock, waiting anxiously in the parking lot, holding hands with your two pasty children, their thick plastic glasses fogging up from the humidity, their white socks drooping disconsolately.

But, like you Ricky (I've dropped using Rick, because Ricky better fits your boyish derring-do), I am a man of faith--I know we can make this work. And I am determined. OK, so you haven't replied to my private messages, but that's ok. I know the internet can be tricky. I stopped by 17 Chiang Mai churches last Sunday hoping to locate you, but to no avail. Seventeen down, 44 more to go. I got some funny looks from the Koreans, and a few offers from women in bonnetts, but oh how they don't know my heart, and my singular pursuit of the Ricky of my dreams. I even swung by Richy-Rich Land on the ring road, on a lark, but the trail went colder than Uriah the Hittite's love muscle.

Well, Ricky, I suppose we could go on chatting like this all evening. But I suppose you've got things to do. Maybe chopping wood with an axe, then measuring it in cubits. And soon it will get dark, and I wouldn't want your flock to get the wrong idea about a man of the Book staying online after sunset. For my part, I'll be plotting tomorrow's search on Google Maps (Bake and Bite? The Duke's? Butter is Better? Sayuri?) Sweet dreams, my Ricky (Martin!), my Prince of Piece, my Man-nonite, my Hunkite!

Puwa,

I don't know whether to laugh or be concerned at your post. However I will pray for you and your family tonight.

God Bless

Oh Ricky, the idea of you on your knees, for any purpose, gets me going again.

You have a place reserved in hell i'm sure.

Bingo! And we have a winner! It never takes long, does it?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

it's just weird for a 4 year old to still be breastfeeding.

It's not weird in the slightest - it's completely natural. If you have a hang up with it due to your upbringing, that's a different matter.

Completely natural, huh?

OK, when does it become unnatural? 5 years old? 10 years old? 15?

There is nothing normal about women from developed nations living above the poverty line who breastfeed their kids at 4 years of age. It's unnecessary and bizarre.

If anyone is going to have a "hang up" talk to an adult who was breastfed up to 4 years of age. Now that is someone who is nearly guaranteed to have a host of issues.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

it's just weird for a 4 year old to still be breastfeeding.

It's not weird in the slightest - it's completely natural. If you have a hang up with it due to your upbringing, that's a different matter.

Completely natural, huh?

OK, when does it become unnatural? 5 years old? 10 years old? 15?

There is nothing normal about women from developed nations living above the poverty line who breastfeed their kids at 4 years of age. It's unnecessary and bizarre.

If anyone is going to have a "hang up" talk to an adult who was breastfed up to 4 years of age. Now that is someone who is nearly guaranteed to have a host of issues.

You're intermixing natural and normal.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I find it highly offensive. If I see it happen I will promptly be calling the Royal Thai Police and lodging a formal complaint. I carry my point and shoot with me at all time, and would not hesitate to take photographic evidence to present to the police.
Ricky, I feel a little bit embarrassed posting this on a public forum, but here it goes. Ever since you joined ThaiVisa, I've been reading your posts--in fact I've been following them. Kind of obsessed, to be honest. There's a certain feeling I get when reading your words, like an electric buzz pulsing through me. Maybe it's your no-nonsense phrasing, maybe it's the way you declare your offense at exposed female breasts. Your words carry a virility, a masculinity, a mixture of brotherly love and fatherly strictness that stirs me in the most unmentionable ways.

We haven't met, so I've had to make do by imagining what you look like: the muscles of your broad, dominant hands wrapped around the spine of the Holy Bible (Good News edition, right?); the flash of milky white calf peeping out above your socks and sandals; the Herculean arch of your shoulders stretching the very fibers of your bluish-grey polyester safari suit. I dream of you crawling into your nylon mosquito netting after a long day at Church, or on the road, or at the police station, wearing nothing but a sensible XXL t-shirt and tighty whities. God, Ricky, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Rick (can I call you Rick?), I know these forbidden desires present some practical problems. What will the members of the Church think? Won't they miss you when you fail to show up on Sunday mornings, or any other day of the week, as I detain you with my selfish, carnal, insatiable needs? Who will play the electric keyboard in the Church band? And I feel conflicted about the harm our love will do to Mrs. Doofus. I can picture her now, in her best flowered frock, waiting anxiously in the parking lot, holding hands with your two pasty children, their thick plastic glasses fogging up from the humidity, their white socks drooping disconsolately.

But, like you Ricky (I've dropped using Rick, because Ricky better fits your boyish derring-do), I am a man of faith--I know we can make this work. And I am determined. OK, so you haven't replied to my private messages, but that's ok. I know the internet can be tricky. I stopped by 17 Chiang Mai churches last Sunday hoping to locate you, but to no avail. Seventeen down, 44 more to go. I got some funny looks from the Koreans, and a few offers from women in bonnetts, but oh how they don't know my heart, and my singular pursuit of the Ricky of my dreams. I even swung by Richy-Rich Land on the ring road, on a lark, but the trail went colder than Uriah the Hittite's love muscle.

Well, Ricky, I suppose we could go on chatting like this all evening. But I suppose you've got things to do. Maybe chopping wood with an axe, then measuring it in cubits. And soon it will get dark, and I wouldn't want your flock to get the wrong idea about a man of the Book staying online after sunset. For my part, I'll be plotting tomorrow's search on Google Maps (Bake and Bite? The Duke's? Butter is Better? Sayuri?) Sweet dreams, my Ricky (Martin!), my Prince of Piece, my Man-nonite, my Hunkite!

Puwa,

I don't know whether to laugh or be concerned at your post. However I will pray for you and your family tonight.

God Bless

Oh Ricky, the idea of you on your knees, for any purpose, gets me going again.

You have a place reserved in hell i'm sure.

Bingo! And we have a winner! It never takes long, does it?

@puwa Really? I'm flabbergasted! It really took you that much time and effort? Don't you have anything better to do?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

@Puwa if you spent less time nonsensical ranting, and more time on things that really matter, you could join our Church and be a productive member of a team trying to make Chiang Mai a safer place.

Which Church is that sir,and were is it located,

is anyone made welcome ?

regards Worgeordie

Link to comment
Share on other sites

@Puwa if you spent less time nonsensical ranting, and more time on things that really matter, you could join our Church and be a productive member of a team trying to make Chiang Mai a safer place.

Team Jesus?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

@Puwa if you spent less time nonsensical ranting, and more time on things that really matter, you could join our Church and be a productive member of a team trying to make Chiang Mai a safer place.

I don't think religion ever made anywhere a safer place.

Stop kidding yourself - nobody wants your religion here. You're not doing God's work, you're just wasting your energy on a futile endeavour. Go home and carry on with your life rather than trying to spread your foolishness around the world.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

@Puwa if you spent less time nonsensical ranting, and more time on things that really matter, you could join our Church and be a productive member of a team trying to make Chiang Mai a safer place.

Yes siree RD, pot,kettle, black ,if you practiced as you are now preaching re; less nonsensical ranting, you would still be making wonderous posts instead of Doofus ones

doofus

ˈduːfʌs/
noun
NORTH AMERICANinformal
  1. a stupid person.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

@Puwa if you spent less time nonsensical ranting, and more time on things that really matter, you could join our Church and be a productive member of a team trying to make Chiang Mai a safer place.

Reading between the lines here, I suspect that Puwa's long fantasie post has had an affect and this is a veiled invite for a meet-up.thumbsup.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites

it's just weird for a 4 year old to still be breastfeeding.

It's not weird in the slightest - it's completely natural. If you have a hang up with it due to your upbringing, that's a different matter.

Completely natural, huh?

OK, when does it become unnatural? 5 years old? 10 years old? 15?

There is nothing normal about women from developed nations living above the poverty line who breastfeed their kids at 4 years of age. It's unnecessary and bizarre.

If anyone is going to have a "hang up" talk to an adult who was breastfed up to 4 years of age. Now that is someone who is nearly guaranteed to have a host of issues.

It's your attitude that's bizarre. You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I seriously doubt you have ever talked to an adult who was breastfed until the age of 4 and who told you they had issues because of it. If you have no factual argument to make, best just not to say anything. Studies show quite the opposite to what you are trying to claim.

It also has nothing to do with money so I'm not sure why you're mentioning 'developed' nations and the poverty line. If anything, it's less educated women who will stop breastfeeding much earlier (or never breastfeed at all).

Edited by Mark123456
Link to comment
Share on other sites

it's just weird for a 4 year old to still be breastfeeding.

It's not weird in the slightest - it's completely natural. If you have a hang up with it due to your upbringing, that's a different matter.

Completely natural, huh?

OK, when does it become unnatural? 5 years old? 10 years old? 15?

There is nothing normal about women from developed nations living above the poverty line who breastfeed their kids at 4 years of age. It's unnecessary and bizarre.

If anyone is going to have a "hang up" talk to an adult who was breastfed up to 4 years of age. Now that is someone who is nearly guaranteed to have a host of issues.

It's your attitude that's bizarre.

OK, sure. My attitude is bizarre, but a woman breastfeeding a 48-59 month old child is natural. rolleyes.gif

By the way, you neglected to answer the question posed to you: When does it become unnatural? 5 years old? 10 years old? 15?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Of course your attitude is bizarre, because it is based on what you were brought up to believe and the people you have chosen to associate with since reaching adulthood, rather than any facts.

When does it become unnatural? From my personal experience, my daughter weaned herself when she was a couple of months shy of 4 so that is as far as my experience stretches. Unlike yourself, I'm not comfortable passing judgement on matters of which I have no knowledge so I can't really comment on what it is like after that age.

As you seem to have no idea what you are talking about, I should point out that a child breastfeeding in it's 4th year, i.e. up to the age of 4, is obviously not existing solely on breast milk, nor breastfeeding that often. I cannot imagine an instance where a child would continue to want to breastfeed until the age of 10 or 15 so I didn't bother answering your question (I'm not obliged to answer every ridiculous question I might be posed on ThaiVisa by the way).

As a foreign male in Thailand, I'm willing to bet your behaviour is far more bizarre than the breastfeeding mothers who you think you are fit to judge. How's that for a blinkered point of view - remind you of anyone?

Edited by Mark123456
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.










×
×
  • Create New...