KenW

I talked to a General Director of a major SEAsian removalist company, Asian Tigers, an American bloke, about moving to Thailand. The quote I initially sought from him was to put my stuff in storage (no problem there as they have a major storage warehouse here in Saigon) prior to a move to who knows where. Most likely Thailand, but no certainty. He told me the move was easy as Thailand is their major destination in the region. But, the issue was to clear my stuff out of the BKK port and through customs I would need a work permit. For an old fart without any visible means of support, much less some company arranging me a work permit, this appears to mean such a move (with stuff) is not viable. That is, I go as a tourist or not at all. I can't believe you guys who live in Thailand all have work permits. Or am I wrong? Any FMs got experience in this area with any helpful comments?

Such beautiful LBs, such excellent pix Lin. Looks like the PI provinces are the go.

What are our favourite things? By things here I mean a very loose broad ranging identification, from solid objects through activities, acts (yes shagging is in there), through emotional things (love is included), through hot spots (e.g. hotels, venues, etc.), cultural events (parties, celebrations, all those sort of happenings). Let’s see the favourites we like to talk about, think about, experience, do, act on, take part in, watch, listen to. One reason I thought of doing such a thread is that I have only ever met 2 FMs hereabouts. Unlike lots of you who are all old mates from years of hanging out, I am new to Thailand and to these forums. But I reckon such a list of favourite things gives insight into what kind of folk we are. For example, let me set out my five favourite things (in no particular order): Cock Reading Writing Indian food Wine Now, there’s lots of things I love that I haven’t included here. I’ve kept it to 5. But feel free to include as many or as few as you wish. I don’t mean to imply that contributors to the thread have to list 5, or any other set number. In terms of what I said above about giving insights into personalities, histories, style, my list is evocative. It gives to those who think about it indicators about my sexual preferences (but doesn’t say everything of course), my professional life, my nosh delights, my recreational pursuits. So might it help us see into each other (particularly for those of us who don’t as yet have lots of FM mates known to us face to face).

Dear Larry Down here among the rats and the vile filth in the shithole of The Scrapheap I thought I'd just write off a quick reply to say you are deadeye spoton correct. After what those shitbag lillylivered cowardly jellybacked arseholes did to me in 2008-9, I got out already. (But just in the nick of time - whew!) They weren't gunna get me again. Cheers & best wishes for your 301. Ordinary Joe

Ae

The great Buster Keaton

Whereas I myself am an old fart of doubtful virtue who enjoys the company of ladies sometimes (provided they got, as the old song says, what we got). I too find it an obnoxious & ugly term Jim, and have never used it. For some reason it reminds me of dead fish and harshly pitched voices that screech from behind pushcarts in the street.

What's a hos? Skuse my ignorance... Thought it might be a diminutive for hosPITAL Or the well known cowboy slang for horse Or a big fat brother from Ponderosa ...

Another Cleese & Palin classic: the Cheese Shop sketch

Lung ist eine gottedammerung labelmouthe Mensch mit eine oder zwei oder drei hollernzehren arsenhole mit grosse cockenspruche shovet mit im swolleren Schpune oder Eggkuppen cumme von das Hunden Gruppe zom nhu Luftwaffe fleigen spielefuckengobsmacken gezeist! Heil Hitler! I aint German and I love every second minute hour of Fawlty Towers. Top choice my friend. (PS apologies to any real German FMs for my insult to your beautiful language - just a feeble attempt at a joke)

I like the cut of your Jib. BTW happy birthday bear

My all time favourite: Cleese & Palin in the pet shop.

slurp murp frerp whorp whorp gag gag gag...

Find Take Me to the River and I'll drop straight to my knees...

duke you are a gentleman. Thank you.

Don't mess with the VNese. Or at least, don't mess with an unrequited lover or ex-lover. Story in the papers here the past ten days or so concerns two lesbians, not LBs. But as it's gender bending, it captures the attention. Plot concerns a lesbian love affair of some 6 or 7 years standing, starting with an older girly girl aged then about 27, and her younger manny girl aged back then 19. The latter, as I've seen a few hereabouts, short hair, no makeup, men's apparel, smoking, all the men's stuff. Anyway, a year or so ago, the older one tires of it, and falls for a man, deciding eventually to marry him. The younger is broken hearted and outraged. Week before last the final confrontation, younger one goes around to other's house, right near the market near my house, has a shouting match with older one and her family. On the footpath, outside their front door, jilted younger one pulls a knife and stabs both ex-lover and her father. Father dies on the spot. Tomboi (shown below) now aged 26, faces a long life in jail.

A plea from one of the uneducated ignorant masses: better location details please than opposite two bars I have never heard of. As red wine and fish `n' chips are two of the serious attractors in this train wreck they call my life, I need to know better location details for partaking of them.

Because they know The One Way to Truth.

Rose gets my vote by the length (ha!) of the straight. O and being as Lefty's introduced song titles as a scientific prompter, I'll say (but it's a big stretch of the facts) I could have been influenced by Cracklin' Rose (but that's Neil Diamond and he's prolly totally unkosher amongst you muzak afficionados).

Exactly Lung, very well said Mate. Such as our friends are extremely courageous, and, I might add, very lucky to boot. O how I envy them, Jason and all the others like PDogg and their like, the anonymous cool quiet ones. You're also spot on about the straight stuff and how fraught that is, so of course our LB fetishes and commitments are going to be full of difficultities [sic]. :rolleyes:

Yes, welcome Jason. Long long time since we last caught up on a thread. Nice to hear you & Nong are still going strong.

It would have a 20 gallon wooden keg of freshly brewed good beer as the centrepiece of the bar. Wooden bung and all. Staffed with a cellarman whose job description included replacement as it emptied. The place would have a large wine cellar and an owner or manager wine literate, who scoured vineyards and websites in times of wine glut (like in Australia right now) for excellent cheap bulk lots. Thus able to pass onto customers quality plonk at affordable (read: cheap) prices. No airconditioning. Light airy design. Wooden fittings with open windows designed to access breezes. Outdoor seating (as at Sally's in JT). No loud thumping music, no big gross speakers in sight. No mirrors. No sport monitors. If there was kitchen for bar nosh service, then it would be uncontaminated by French Fries. Only real chips made on the premises served hot with any relevant Western dishes.

We are the hollow me We are the stuffed me And life without It is Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion; Those who have crossed With roadmap eyes, to drink’s other kingdom Remember me – if at all – not as a lost Violent soul, but only As the hollow me The stuffed me. The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive Nil supplications from a drunk man’s hand. This is the way the worst ends This is the way the worst ends This is the way the worst ends Not with a bang but a whimper. For the dry, the abstention, the detox, like Mistah Kurtz – he dead. I am failure, but gathered together once more for the breach, my friends. (Embarrassed apologia to TS Eliot)

I got a shock last evening, thinking about the ageing LB I saw at the traffic lights (in the post above #141), to realize that the three LBs I had sex with back in 1994 (see post #13 of this thread), at that time in their early twenties, would now all be forty or more years old. They could well be the ugly black-Pete chinned type cruising about in the gold bangles today. Goodness. Two of them, as I recall, were only average looking, but the one who sucked my cock and whose cock I sucked was gorgeous. I wonder how ugly or otherwise she is now at forty (no offence meant darling... for I'm ancient & ugly too).

Give it a try Sunshine. Close your eyes, let your cheek cells and tongue do their best work, and think of heaven being somewhere between yoghurt and fresh crab meat.