My dismal UK holiday snaps

Hug Rant says:

Jesus unicycling Christ.
One month before my contract is up.
Must redouble the efforts to avoid a return to those miserable shores.....

Dana says:

Regarding women getting bigger in the UK and the men staying the same: In the last two years here in the States I have noticed that women have gotten much bigger and the men look the same. I don't mean just that the women are overweight--I mean they are taller and wider and heavier and bigger boned. Monster bigger, some kind of evolution bigger. Some of them are frightening. Like giants. The only conclusion I can reach is that our diet of sugar and salt and fat benefits the woman more than the man.

Dean says:

I happen to think that English women are hot!

Being a black haired brown eyed Eurasian, I was raised by a Chinese man who told me how he was uncomfortable with seeing Asian people with whites.

When I see a White man with an Asian lady, I used to get jealous. But now, I think, better that she is with him, than that she is with me; to a European guy, a Chinese lady is a delving into something exotic. To a guy who grew up in an Asian household, a Chinese lady would be for him to regress into some primitive, non-English reality.

And Asian ladies probably feel the same about Chinese guys.

Wouldn't it be ironic if I were to meet a woman who is to become my wife in Thailand, and she were a European lady! That would be right on, for I was always more emotionally attracted to the European ladies.

Farang ladies are a lot of fun! And beautiful!

According to an article, Farang ladies drawn to the spicy charms of dark haired brown eyed men abound in Bali! It is almost like it is trendy for European ladies to be with Asian and Eurasian men.

Actually, later on, it might become geeky to notice. It is like the guy who is told that dinner will be served in five minutes saying, "What is for dinner? And what are the exact ingredients?" Every single time, every single goddamn motherfucking time.

Maybe the grass is greener on the other side, after all.

Whether the lady is Thai, or Farang, or Chinese, etc. I have the ability to love her just the same.

Yours, Dean

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

If this keeps up I'm going to answer with tons of butterscotch sludge as Quentin Quaalude ("Dean, when you're in total harmony with the universe, grass tends to be green no matter which side you look at it from, wouldn't you say? You're right, inside every immense manatee-style whingeing farang broad is a tiny, polite Thai girl struggling to get out. Or, maybe several."). Or, maybe I'll invent yet another avatar that's gonna make "Dean" sound like a football quarterback. The readership here will give that avatar the Mango Sauce equivalent of the Nobel Prize for Illiterature, I'm sure!

C'mon. This is too funny. Really.

By the way, David, thanks for the article, face hurts from smiling. Can't wait for my next trip to the UK, scheduled for next month some time. Are they filling the slappers with helium by now, anyway?

Dean says:

On a trip to the Floating Market, Damnoen Saduak, there was a young couple from Scotland who was on the same tour van as me, along with a bunch of other tourists. I knew they were from Scotland because I asked.

I was going to ask them whether they were from Edinburgh or Glasgow, but then, I thought to myself, "Why does it matter?!"

Here I am, talking about using science and archetypes, mythos and logos to respond to, counter and deflect some racist passages said in this message board, and then I go amd use terms like, "Eurasian", etc.

That is the problem with writing. It is like trying to get a prize in the middle of quicksand. The more words you write, the more you are inextricably entangled in the nest of words you have composed.
The more you write, the more you are stuck. The classic dilemna! A real paradox!

There is an old saying, "When going through hell, just keep going!"

I enjoy reading your entries.

And Greg as well.

I don't care about being understood or misunderstood. At first, based on a few words, people will have a very sketchy opinion of you. You are a new person in cyberspace.
Like a soap opera, though, people drop in and drop out. Soon though, people will get to know you.

I am new to this message boards thing. It is a scientific experiment. And so far the signs are going good.

But if you go to some place, and you wind up being late, and there are too many accidents, too many catcalls and pratfalls, too many sudden unexplained temper tantrums, then that is a sign that the place is not good.

If a place is smooth, no trouble for weeks, a month seems like a day, then that is a good place. I am living in a good place now.

The necessity of the visa runs present while I was living life overseas, made one month seem like three months. My life here in Vancouver is going very quickly. No visa runs in my life, now.

The expression, 'It is a long road that has no turning'. means you can be in a rut for an extended amount of time, but eventually something is going to change. Some catalyst will typically intervene.

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

*kiss* Dean, come to bed. Come touch me someplace special. *knowing smile*

Dean says:

Dear Ubangi:

We may not be on an actual bed together, but we are between the covers! We all are! A cyber-orgy of words! Ha ha ha ha!

*Between the covers being an old publishing term for writers being printed in the same publication.

Prorogue says:

An interesting phenomenon from the UK. Aside from a startling trend towards female obesity (what is it with fat chicks exposing their mid riffs - it's nothing short of spastic) we are now presented with the rise of the 'geezer bird'.

Geezer bird, walks like a bloke, talks like a bloke, smokes like a bloke, provokes fights like a bloke and are known to dress like blokes. The upshot of this is a startling new epedemic of civil disorder and loutishness in the epicentre of British community life - The pub.

Once a calming influence on foolish and immature men, a womans' presence is no longer sufficient to defuse violent situations and instead geezer bird can be seen drunk, often obese and all too willing to encourage volatile situations. It's a sad day that Viz's 'fat slags' have taken the pole position as first choice in the gene pool.

Coming shortly: 'Croydon Pram Face' another sinister development on the UK trend spotters radar.

tonychang says:

On returning to the UK, I too noticed the abundance of fit Ivan birds, of course I aint had a sniff, but I'm skint and had enough of that sort of shit in Thailand.

Isabel II says:

Well, the way you all carry on, life does sound very dreary in the UK. And I'm sorry Dana, but I have to differ with your description of women in the states. Yes, there are giant, fat, loutish women everywhere, and even more men that fit this description. But there are also beautiful women everywhere, and more women in the west are fit now because of the upsurge of gyms and working out. There have also been articles on how much younger women and men look compared to former generations because of increased information about nutrition and skincare.

I've seen beautiful women everywhere, including the UK. Funny that you never seem to mention this in your incessant chatter about the demise of farang women, and funny how farang men usually seem to be excluded from this analysis. Lend me a digital camera for a day and I'll show you some truly horrorific beasts that prowl the streets in LOS, who most likely don't even know the true state of their horrors because they're getting laid on a daily basis and stay drunk.

stu_$ says:

some times i get a distinct fear of heights,
especially on 19th floor apartments balcony...

the elevator was bad enough, when i would look through the gap when walking into it

so imagine my terror when returning from the 7 11 at 3 am , i board the lift then at the 6th floor *ping*
and 4 generous sized ladies representing her majesty boarded cackling like maniacs
smelling like a brewery mind you
(they not i )
after which there was an alarming sound
which turned out to be the elevator alarm !
according to the manafacturers panel
said lift was designed to carry a maximum of 11

but there was only me and these 4 !
anyhoo, they thought it was hilarious
needless to say , i took the stairs

chok dee

TANAI KWAI says:

Hilarious stuff here from David, Ubangi, Pro, Stu and, often inadvertently, Dean.

Isabel II,

A lot of farang men are fat and ugly.

And there are many farang women who are beautiful, youthful, slim and fit.

We get it.

But you don't get this site and you never will.

(...)

Sniffer says:

Currently on hol in UK, too. Jesus Christ, what do they feed the women on here now??? The most distressing sight of all has got to be the the low-slung jeans or cargo pants which afford a sight of the top of the wearer's g-string. On asian girls we all know how sexy this looks but on 75-kilo plus Brit mingers it's stomach-turning. And it's everywhere! I don't know why people get so exercised over British women of south asian backgrounds wearing chadors or saris; they should donate a few to the permanently pissed, cackling heffers who make up the majority of the white female 18-35 year-old poulation...

jdman says:

I laughed until I had a stomach spasm. Too funny guys!

I recently had an incident happen to me on a flight from Las Vegas to the Grand Canyon airport (going to a conference there). The plane was small and the capacity was eight with the pilot. Not a statistically large sampling but the four male passengers were slim and trim. The one asian girl (Japanese) was simply adorable. However, the problem was two particularly whale-like females that were obviously from the UK on vacation. One of these women was enormous and her traveling companion was no less impressive in her girth (they had to be at least 600 lbs between them). Now small planes of this sort do have their aerodynamic limitations and these two gals put it over the top. The pilot had to inform them that either one of them could go with her luggage but the other had to stay for the next flight or they could both go but their luggage had to stay behind. After much 'whining' or 'whigning' about why they were singled out, they agreed to leave their luggage behind. I was nervous at that solution and didn't feel their bags quite made up for the added risk of their buckets-o-fat. I almost volunteered to take the next flight.

Then came the next unexpected twist. The fatter of the two UK gals could not get into her seat through the passage provided. In the end she had to sit next to the pilot where her folds of fat were pouring on to the instrument panel. Who knows which critical switch was going to be throw if this whale burped or farted. :(

We got off the ground but it was a dreadful flight. This flight path, known for its thermals did not dissappoint. This was one bumpy mother-fucker-of-a-ride over the desert mountains and every dip felt like it would be my last. Thank Buhhda only 45 minutes of sheer torture and we landed.

All this being said I don't mean to single out UK women. One visit to the casinos of Las Vegas convinces you that all of America is in need of a diet but American woman outweigh the male masses there easily 2 for 1. Thank Buhhda for testosterone. If this town is a snap shot of America, then it would be best to throw out the camera. However, there is the occasional oasis in the desert. Go to 'Cheetas' is you are in asian withdrawal. A sweet little lap dancer will make you cum or give you a blister trying. Several were from LOS the last time I was there although the Phillipinas were the most fun. Blow off 'Olympic Garden' since the only Thai there is a degenerate gambling lady boy (who is nonetheless hot but only because you are 12,000 miles away from paradise).

Chok dee khrap!

Siam says:

In Spain at the moment and the locals are stunners with great dress sense to boot. Plenty of lovely Scandies running around also. Enlgish women stick out like a sore thumb because of thir large sizes, dire dress sense and fighting in the street -(yup Ive seen 2 fights since Ive been here all involving english lasses.)

Although a generaltion for sure English women are totally rank....

Prorogue says:

Geezer birds and Lady Boys. Channel 4, Discovery Channel? Anyone care to make a docu program?

'Continent Swap' praps!!

Pro.

tonychang says:

with farang girls being fat and/or unstylish at least you dont get so many instances of "crimebay" girls in UK as in Thailand (body off baywatch,face off crimewatch).

TANAI KWAI says:

Tony,

In the U.S. they call them "buttafaces."

"Great body... but her face."

http://www.fmtalki.com/gallery/hardrock/image002

(...)

Bento Box says:

Tanai, for once you are succint and funny. Bravo!

TANAI KWAI says:

Praise from a rudderless English teacher in Japan known for his slashing style of sparse, haiku-like wit!

At last, I am a credit to my race.

(bravo!)

Darlie says:

ahh you bring back memories of the nationwide "GRAB A GRANNY CLUBS " I recall asking one princess Anne lookalike if she would like a dance . 'I am waiting for my young man" she replied . in walked Fred a well known lothario he wasnt a day under 60 . Like old fish that have been caught too may times they are all battled scared and previously used and abused .All have been punished . Thank god for Thai girls eh ?

Dean says:

Some guys like Amazon women.

Some guys like Rubenesque women.

And some guys like the rare combination of the Rubenesque Amazon!

And there are Thai women who are fat and/or tall.

And some might opine that whatever she looks like, any woman looks better with a shaved pussy!

North America has a very limited Playboy mentality. A local B.C. horse jockey who visited the Playboy mansion said, "Hefner drops his women once they hit 27. That's the way he operates."

But in Europe it is common for a man to love young women and old women, slim women and fat women, fair women and dark women. Freud would call this polymorphously perverse, but we all know Freud was a die-hard romantic!

Vive les differences!

Thank God I'm a country boy!

Dean

Jules says:

JDMAN,

Oh, what a hoot. It brightened my whole morning. Especially the bit about what would happen if she farted.

Cheers.

Jules says:

It has to be said, doubtless to Isoble IIs chagrin, that a bit of prosperity on the male body does no harm especially when an older man.

But there should be public obscenity laws about chubby girls and mid-riffs. It is quite upsetting to someone of my delicate disposition and it takes all my self control not to rush over with a blanket to cover up them up.

Anonymous says:

"...in the forthcoming UK referendum on the expansion of the European Union, it's safe to assume that they'll be voting NO."

Sounds like the EU is expanding already WITHOUT adding any countries!

Dean says:

When I saw Isabel II's name, I got angry because Isabel is a name of a girl that I used to go with.
Not to tell tales out of school, but I used to get upset with this girl that I am telling you about. I actually wish to God that I had never met her. As God as my witness, I wish that I had punched her out when I had the chance. I hope that someone punches her out.
She is the worst girlfriend that I have ever had and ever will have.

Except in the rarest of circumstances, and probably not for more than a few years, true love does not exist. People are travelling the world, walking the streets looking for something that doesn't exist.

The ideal of the wife and the house and the white picket fence with the pitter patter of little feet probably did not even exist in 50's America.

The ideal, like that of yoga teacher BKS Iyengar and his wife of which he said, "There was never an argument between us. There was total harmony. Our two spirits were as one."

Well, I have my doubts about that. Enchanting as women are, they can be a square, domesticating force. Can't live with them, can't live without them.

The Buddha said that desire creates suffering. That would include desire for women.

I really do not know about visiting Thailand again. It is too difficult for me, financially to do that. Like the old saying goes, 'If it is too difficult, then it is not worth doing'. Maybe I can quit the idea of travelling to Thailand ever again. A short time in Thailand, even a short time of a few months is just a tease. And if one were to stay a long time, then one would just be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things can change very quickly anywhere one lives.

"If it's too difficult, or if you are not good at something, then the thing to do is quit. It's the American way." -the Simpsons

It is not a good idea to ever be in a position where, "I need a job or a plane ticket out of here or I'm dead meat!" The chances are against this happening, however.

Life is good here, for me.

My girlfriend in Thailand wrote to me. I simply refuse to be baited. She works as a masseuse.

Why does she write to me? It is almost like she is trying to say, this is what you are missing living in Canada. I am actually really surprised that she would still write to me after all this time.

I wanted to leave Thailand with a clean break. Then I meet her, and she tells me she loves me. Who needs that? Why does she say this?
It is more of a trophy for her with her friends if she can dislodge some guy living 75,000 miles away in Canada to go halfway around the world to see her.
Why should I go there and be on the hook for half of her daily living expenses, be speaking Thai all the time and not English? After she has been rubbing down ten men a day, and don't think that she does not enjoy it, she wants some Canadian chump to come home to. Some Canadian chump who is paying half if not all of her rent.

The very first day I met her, she told me that she loves me forever. And kept repeating it incessantly. Love, love? Why love for fuck sakes?!
Nah, I give up on this. Too much data to process, too much struggle, too intense, not certain.
I mean Murphy's Law would have it that she finds someone else five seconds before my plane lands in Bangkok the next time that I am there.

Who needs that?

Dean says:

What the fuck...

Sometimes a person can get TOO angry with something. That causes friends to come up and say, "You like it."

I find that when I get TOO mad at something, for a second, the muscles in my face shift to looking like William Shatner's face. I have felt it.

When a woman hauls out one of her guyfriends to make you jealous to fan the flames of passion, there is an anti-chemistry. Extremely angry and extremely horny at the same time.

Thai women do not, for the most part, play these games, but who is to generalize?

There is another part of that too, and that is when I try to like something TOO much, then I would involuntarily put on what I call the patronizing face.
A group of smiling people holding a dish to you on a silver platter. A dish that they prepared. And they egg you on to eat, but you find that you don't like it all that much. And so you put on that patronizing face.

Generally, I try not to look too angry. I try to look less angry than I actually am.

Dean says:

What games can Western women play?

"I want him to want me, but I don't want him."

"Let's see if we can't make him crazy. Poor guy, he's totally outnumbered."

jdman says:

Dean you are scary. Go seek treatment.

Greg says:

Dean, why is it that when you say "I have felt it." I break out in laughter. No other posts on this forum have had me break out laughing. You are a fucking genious. I mean. You have invented a new kind of humor. That doesn't happen every day.

At first I thought you were just some average idiot. You are God.

KDub says:

Dean and Dana are two writers who I do not even need a signature to know who's writing.

The funny thing about Dean is that when I read his writing I feel like I'm reading my book of Buddha. A modernized version!

KDub says:

This whole subject of fat English women had me feeling sorry for the English men....then I woke up and remembered I live in America where it's surely worse(with some geographical exceptions).

Dean says:

Dear JD Man:

I admit that I regret putting in that line about wanting to have punched out Isabel. I wish very much now, that I did not include that line in a posting.
I have gone with her for four years, and did not even punch her even once.

I did make a rule to myself not to get angry over the message board. Writing on a message board is like going into a totally dark room where there are a lot of other people in the same situation.

Usually, I will write an angry note about someone, and then not send it. To throw the note away.

I knew that I fucked up when I wrote that about Isabel.

I am lucky in a lot of ways to have met Isabel. I spent four years with her.

I love Isabel very much. I always will. I don't always feel this way now, but one day, I will.

And I don't really think that Western women play those games that I mentioned. There has always been a psychological barrier between men and women because there are ontological differences based on gender and genitals.

Thanks for the other compliments.
I look forward to reading them all.

Dean

Dean says:

In a previous posting Niall "Why do farang girls hate Thailand" delineated three kinds of travellers.

Somehow, I fit into the third category. In Thailand I miss Canada, in Canada I miss Thailand. And around and around, like a Moebius strip.

The girlfriend of mine that I was telling you about. I think she's the real thing.

And even if it is five months until I see her, well I am, as I mentioned in my mid thirties. When a person is five years old, a year is an entire fifth of their life so far. When a person is fifty, a year is only a fiftieth of their life.

A watched pot never boils, and the best thing to do is to forget about Thailand as much as I can before I go there again.

Meanwhile this message board has its merits and is an interesting trip unto itself.

tonychang says:

though usually supportive of the farang laydees I can quite easily sympathise with many of the posters on this blog, especially after this evenings selection of reality TV on UK's channel4.
Kicking off with "wife swap"(UK) then "big brother"(UK) and culminating in "average joe"(US).
Though an entertaining evenings telly IMO, ultimately it curdled my stella.
cheers

JDMan says:

Kevin...kevin ...kevin....Come back.......fad in Bowie music...."Ground control to ...."

jdman says:

By the way...David....you are a genius...
"I love Isabel very much. I always will. I don't always feel this way now, but one day, I will."

This can only be you. Bravo...never miss a chance to pour salt into the womb!

mossman says:

Isabel II is David(it would be easier)
Cog IS TK (si, "mamasita!")
Dean is Dean, and...original?

When listening to him (it's almost like listening to him rather than reading his post), one gets the sense posting these boards are new (not "flamed" too much, yet). There's so much here, it's scary at times, you don't know where he's going with it, or where he's taking your willingness go as well. Dean has such a fixed, vivid imagination, he undoubtedly makes a short story stickman "writer" drool!

Dean, keep up the good work. Been sick for four days (nasty bug), but I'm with ya! I love the part where you said "three months felt like one." Actually you said the inverse, but that's how I read it.

Dean says:

Whew... this is like preparing to jump off of a high diving board, but here goes...
Well, you goaded me into it, you magnificent cyber-geeks sitting in your parents basement and the most seasoned expat alike sitting in an internet cafe. I am going to air my short stories. I have written quite a few of these, actually, here is a couple to whet your apetite. I would like to hook up with a publisher. I sent these stories to the CBC, the BBC, CNN, Global television, studio 4, the Discovery Channel, the Dennis Miller Show on NBC, et al.
The first story is about lounging around in an airport, waiting for a flight.
The story after that is my melodramatic, protracted, sensationalist revisionist history of the leviathan ship, the Titanic. The other day, I walked around the Canada Place promenade here in Vancouver. There was a cruise ship parked adjacent to the hotel. The immensity of the ship invariably, inevitably made me think of the Titanic.

YVR - BKK Airporter

Thailand. I am having my last toke as I walk out the door. the last look at Vancouver. Possibly the very last. What if I die in Thailand?

Through the sliding glass doors of the airport. Dealing with the officiousness of the airport. the line for the boarding pass, the line for the airport tax, the stuffy formalism, the slight wearing down of the pot high.

Then the security metal detector checks. Then sitting at the chairs of the departure gate. Look at the clock. Fucking great! Two hours to go before the flight.

Sitting in a goddamned lounge surounded by strangers. I long for my room. The privacy. The solitude. The drugs. The porn. The television. The stereo. The library of books. I pop a tape into the walkman. Soon, the plane pulls up, if it is not already there. The call for first class passengers first, then business class, then handicapped, and children and families, then economy class rows73 -45, and then rows 44- 27.

On the plane, I press my head against the window leaving a slightly oily forehead smudge on the glass. I strap in the seatbelt. I wonder about the wisdom of leaving. I am excited about the unknown insanity which lies ahead. The plane is typically parked for at least half an hour. As the plane starts to roll away, there is that feeling of certainty, and of no-going-back.
The plane rolls slowly to the runway. It waits.

Then like the initial rush of an intravenous injection of a $10 spitball of cocaine, the jets kick on like loud washing machines then the plane lurches forward, hurling itself down the tarmac and then the plane is off the ground!

In less than five seconds the plane is higher than the height of any amusement park ride, and still climbing! The sheer insanity of it!

On the plane as soon as I have my first beer, the pot high disappears immediately. After my first catnap, when I wake up, I think that I am in my old room, but then I see that I am still on the goddamned motherfucking airplane! I look at my watch, thinking that five hours has gone into the flight. No, one hour and five minutes only! Grrrrr!

The stopover is always a worry. Those Asians are so square. But being of slight build, and dressing nattily helps. The Asians are actually quite easygoing.

Another cocaine injection-like burst of a plane take-off and it's off to Bangkok! The second flight is a shorter time. There is a smell as the plane goes to Southeast Asia. It is a fecund, organic pungent, spicy, sickly sweet smell, (cardamon, cumin, tumeric and chillies) curry smell, palm trees, a smell peculiar to Thailand and totally unlike the good old no-smell of snow capped mountainous Vancouver.
I have always, so far, inexplicably, always arrived at night in Bangkok. Night time and my arrival to Thailand it seemas are inextricably linked.

There is always a sense of relief when I get to Bangkok. It is like I never left. The heat outside is incredible. The profusion of brown Southeast Asian women, a few looking at me. Soon, though, I find myself drifting back to Soi 68.
If I ever go again to Thailand, I will not be living at Soi 68 anymore. Only visiting the people there.
Maybe I never, ever want to go to Thailand again, unless I get a lot of money in advance. And if some force wants me to teach English in Thailand, well, they better pay for the ticket for the goddamned plane.

The unenviable endless annoying hot weather. The impossibility of sleeping without an electric fan. The feeling that I am pulling a scam like Face on the A-Team whenever I speak Thai for more than five minutes consecutively. The always in-your-face Natives, the fits of nostalgia for Canada (even though Burroughs might call Canada a "fake English set-up" ( as he referred to his University as). Still, its the only "England" that I have ever known!) that last for months on end.

Finally, I have enough. Even though I am having sex with a Thai lady, I find that I am not very good at having sex. It must be the years of drug use.

The airport of Bangkok has the usual friendly but impassive airport staff. That is because in case they encounter any terrorists, drug couriers, and/or any other kind of scam artist.

Tami Tours usually likes to book me on a Chinese airline flying back to Vancouver.

The Bangkok airport tarmac. I always for some inxplicable reason leave Bangkok Thailand during the daytime.

I feel a sense of relief that I do not have to deal with the niggling, avaricious third-world personalities, the constant pressing demands of a visa run and/or otherwise the Thai Immigration Bureaucracy, the hot broiling weather, the sunlight of Bangkok is like little fists punching down on the side of ones head, the constant sweating, the obscure, squiggly-noodle language.

And in the world of the imagination of Spirit, there are invisible beings who can pass through walls while others can't pass even through a cloud. Both are equally invisible to us.

What if, above the stratospheric layer, above that permanent layer of clouds which looks like an endless Alaskan snowy field, there are invisible beings up there?

The view from an airplane window of the layer of clouds. I feel like throwing myself onto a dog sled team out there, and yell "Mush!" but that would of course mean certain death!

Dean March 2004.

TITANIC - AN UNTOLD STORY

(Warning: The following historical depiction contains graphic language and descriptions of sexual acts.)

The Titanic was larger than I imagined. The dockside activity around the ship was a small city unto itself. Crates of exotic animals, mountains of luggage, a sea of bright coloured uniforms. I noticed with some alarm and trepidation that some of the uniformed crew are already walking, or stumbling, rather onto the ship in open displays of drunkeness and bottle waving.
Walking the gangplank, I had a sense of vertigo. It was a good 15 storeys jump onto the pier below!
The ship smelled like all others. Fresh paint, the nostalgic bracing smell of the engine oils, and the exotic scents of food being prepared in kitchens and then carried out on steaming covered platters: Lobster thermidor, freshly baked lemon meringue pie, duck a l'orange, pheasant confits with truffles, soups, foods of unimaginable wealth was paraded through the labyrinthe of the ship.

Later on, I don't know why I survived when so many died. Injustice is what it is. We stepped off a hot party that was BAbylonian in its Edwardian orgiastic proportions to an icy cold hell. Who said that hell could only, would only be one of hot?
A Babylonian orgy. Nebuchadnezzar would be proud of the way we partied. Come to think of it, the Titanic did resemble a grand, floating ziggurat. Cocaine was available (for those so included) on board ship. White powder dripped on black tuxedo bowties and black cumerbunds accompanied many a gentleman into the sumptuous Titanic dining rooms. It was us who taught the 'Roaring 'Twenties' how to party!

Third class had the fun foods, fries, burgers, noodles Chinese style, spaghetti w/ meatballs, and lots of Coca Cola and beer!

The grossly incompetent manager, Bruce Ismay was to blame for trying to set a marine speed record. Trying to set a speed record w/ this ship made as much sense as trying to set one with a fishing trawler, or a tug boat. Insane!

And there was me, on the ship, in bed with three women at the same time, fucking one of them, with my finger up another's pussy (one finger, two fingers, three fingers, and oh my, four fingers just like the number of smokestacks on the Titanic!) and kissing another one on the mouth!

The days and nights aboard the Titanic are a blur. Inane conversations about the relatively newly invented stock market, the Viennese psychoanalytical society, whose luminaries included Freud, Jung, Reich, Adler, etc. the unrest in Eastern Europe ("It's a powderkeg, just waiting to explode." they said.)

It was either Grover Cleveland or Howard Taft who was the President of the United States at that time. Then, the U.S. was coming into Her own as a superpower whereas in the previous century, the 19th century, the superpowers were, Britain, France, Germany, Spain, and Russia.

The sinking of the ship was the most nightmarish event in history. The sheer improbability of the surreal variables involved was just incredible.

The music of the over 100 bands on board, the cascading tinkling of expensive crystal, china, and silver settings of the dining rooms. The endless flashes of pure, solid gold.

And the irony of eating fish for dinner on the Titanic; soon the fishes would be having a lot of us for dinner!

Imagine wealth one moment and disaster the next. The feeling is just like coming down off of cocaine. In fact, the whole experience was very much like a coke trip!

The night was as black as alabaster coal. Stars usually pleasurable were, this evening, painful dots of light, each a needle point.

The disaster started with the sound of a "shuddering moan" heard all throughout the ship which a lot of passengers described as a "death throe".
Soon, there was milling about. And then the level floor became a sloping hill! Never before had I seen so many women with such a scared, terrified look in their eyes and not even bothering to put on a blouse or even a bra!

Why I was put in a lifeboat, I'll never know. But it seemed that I was not so much put inot that lifeboat as that large white angelic hands had lifted me onto that dinghy.

I never want to remember and I can never forget the sinking of the Titanic. The chilling screams.
And what about all the paranormal details like the appearance of strange, UFO-like lights around the Titanic at the time? And what about the sudden materializations of extra people on the ship? Faintly glowing, white-lighted human figures?

Our rescue ship, the Carpathia reached New York on April 14, 1912. Another ship, the Halifax (?) was sent to retrieve the corpses.

The first thing I noticed upon reaching New York was the Statue of Liberty.

Dean March 2004

Dean says:

Might as well make this a triple feature. I might as well hit a triple.

You know the saying, Born on third base and thinks he hit a triple. That is a reference to nepotism.

I have a problem. One that is only just making into the North American diagnostic manual of psychopathology. I am sure the Thais ascribe to a different model of psychological dilineation.
Yes, well my problem is Internet Addiction. Ever since I discovered the message board, I feel like I am a kid in a candy store.

But I am also aware that it is impossible to know who the other people on this message board really are. Blind man's bluff. Ha ha!

I thought of writing a short romance story about how a woman, in order to protect herself from leeering concupiscient lascivious men takes on the computer personnae of a man. And a man who wants to talk to women, but knowing that a woman will not fully open up to a man, takes on the computer personnae of a woman. Kind of like the cyber version of Twelfth Night. And then the pair meet and fall in love.

This is the second chapter of the story and the test is to see whether it has the merits to stand alone as a story. The first chapter although lucid in the usual way that I try to make my stories is too graphic, too crass, perhaps somewhat negative and cavalier, and I would not put the first chapter of the story on this message board for the life of me.

The first story expressed my anger at a person in my past. Who the person is, is of course, incidental.
And since I have not seen this person for a long time, I destroy my own hold on the bad memories of this person through knowing that it is just a pastiche of selective memory that I am dealing with. There are also positive and neutral memories that I had of this person. Finally I tell myself that I really do not know about what it is that I am angry about. I am angry at that... but what do I really know about it? Don't try to draw a bead on it. Don't consent to let something unpleasant resonate with you, by saying to yourself that you understand it, otherwise it has got you hooked.

I wonder where all this silliness will take me.

Yours, Dean

POLICE BLOTTER chapter 2 - Cambodia.

Jim Murrison got off the plane in Bangkok Thailand. He went to the airport and went to stay at a guesthouse next to Hualamphong Train Station in Central Bangkok. He stayed in Bangkok Thailand for at least a month, closer to five weeks. Perhaps, coincidentally, as if the [magic[s] of the] place knew of his intentions to go to Cambodia, he met a Cambodian friend; this Cambdian frined had a funny, Jewish-French sounding name; Shlep Bayette.
Well, one day, he took a train to the dissolute border town of Poipet, Cambodia. From there, he arranged transport to Phnom Penh.

The squalor of Cambodia was a sharop contrast even to the squalor of Thailand.
After getting himself a room at a guesthouse, he decided to go for a walk around the neighbourhood. During his gambol, he saw a woman slicing the intestines out of a butchered pig, and letting the guts run into a sluice. As he passed her and looked at her, she looked up and their eyes met. She gave him an implacable stare for a moment, and then furrowed her brow distractedly and then went back to work.

Svay Pak and Tul Kok are notorious names in the lexicon of seekers of 18 to 25 year old cunt.
Jim Murrison after eating a happy pizza with which the result was a pleasant and over sexually charged synthesia. He saw noises and distant noises seemed to be spoken as if the speaker was right next to his ear.
"The irony, of it," he thought, as he held one 18 year old girl in one arm and a 23 year old girl in another, "Hiring and enjoying the services of women, considering that I killed one not too long agol."

A guilty mind, (mea culpa, mens rea) will seek out [its own] punishment.

Like that Israeli guy who got forcibly whisked out of France by Mosaad agents back to Israel for leaking Israel's nuclear plans, there were that morning three unassuming expatriates leaning hard over their French Cambodian coffee at an outdoor table of a cafe. They watched Jim Murrison as he walked past them.

One of them was RCMP Detective Chris Hines, another was RCPM Sgt. Matt Mason, and the other was Vancouver Police Constable William Jerrold Irons, or 'Old Bill'.
The red and white lights on the Police car is perhaps a symbol of the reptilian and the mammalian side of our natures, it is a symbol for [blue] veins and [red] arteries, but perhaps it is also a symbol for, in the final form, there is necessarily, a benevolent and a malevolent application of Justice.

Jim Murrison knew about the Vancouver Police, Vancouver's Finest. But he did not know that they would come all the way here to look for him. What he did know was that "SERVAMUS" written on the side of the Vancouver Police cars, means 'We Serve' in Latin, and that did not necessarily mean that "We serve you, or that We serve just anybody" It means "We serve the Brotherhood Nobility".

Jim Murrison thought about the Cambodian friend that he met in Bangkok. It was one of those times when a bunch of thoughts had entered into his mind which later turned out to happen. And when it did happen, it was a case of resonance, like how an opera singer can break a glass, or how those 30 mile/hr winds just turned a bridge in Seattle into a piece of flapping liquorice. Resonance, baby.
Once, he got an email in Bangkok that one of his relatives had died. On that same day, he got an email from his Cambodian friend who usually never emails. the day that he visited Wat Po, the temple of the Death Buddha in Bangkok, he saw his Cambodian friends brother on the Chao Phraya River passenger boat! Well!
He thought, "I am probably going to die in Cambodia."

A Cambodian once told Jim Murrison, "Bangkok is all about money. Cambodia is about the heart."

When it rains it pours, and the morning that Jim Murrison got rousted from his guesthouse like an unfortunate in an Alexander Solzenitsyn novel there were no less than 25 Police Officers, some Canadian plainclothes and some of the olive drabbed, star epauletted Cambodian Police, there were some female Police Officers as well.
What Murrison did was serious and he would have to face Canadian Justice.

However, on the way to the Police station, as he was driven in the Prison "van" which was just a '70's Datsun pickup with a cross-hatched wrought iron grating, he suffered a myocardial infarction.
He died of a heart attack in the land of hearts, while in Police custody.

Dean (I am careful not to reveal my last name for mangosauce.com)
April 30, 2004

Dean says:

Too intense, yet somehow not intense enough.

I wonder how long it will be before the 'Law of Diminishing Returns' set in and the people on this message board grow tired of me. Sure, when you first meet a person, there is the novelty of stumbling upon a new personality, but soon, you may find me repetitive.

You know, one does not have to tell all their thoughts. Everyone has thoughts. The permutations are endless.
I think that I may be giving our unsolicited advice and I don't want to do that.

There seems to be a hazing ritual to these message boards and I have a sinking feeling that if I stay on this message board, I will have to go through a phase of passing through the barrier of fire; of running the gauntlet, as it were. Or maybe it is in my imagination.

I hope that I quit before that happens.

I feel that I have gotten way over my head sending in this stories. But I did not send in my other stories. I wrote a story set in Russia. The fact that it was in Russia is incidental. Just another story I wrote. And I wrote a story called ET Loving. I don't think I will be sending those stories over the internet message board. Mind you, those are quite long stories. But again, too intense.

JDMan, Mossman, Tanai Kwai, Jasmine Tea, etc. etc. etc. I am glad to have met you all.

Someone referred to me as a 'God'. I know better than that. In the 60's some people were referred to as 'acid gods' and that was not always a compliment. A 'God' is someone who is into religious topics, I guess.

Well, right back at ya', my good friend. You are a God as well. We all are. So doesn't this make Mangosauce dot com a pantheon, by mere dint of definition?

Oh yeah, I got to be real careful what I write on the message board. When I sent emails to the news companies, they would respond with the usual form letter. Message boards hit back!
Although sometimes I do feel a tacit support from all of you. If I am slipping up through anger, one of you will let me know. And I love you all for it!

Kor hie kwam suk sameur
(May you always be happy)

Dean

davidornot says:

"Isabel II is David(it would be easier)"

i have often wondered who david posts as... what are the chances that someone who owns a site like this hardly ever posts or replies to posts? not high, i think.

cmon david... which one(s) are you?

maybe david is everyone! maybe noone here is real...

Pat Paulsen(hic..!) says:

Yeah David,

Whose is yous?

Or who am we?

I's confused!

(great site, by the way)

Dean says:

The only way that someone would be bothered when they write, come on, you are not Dean, you are really David, or whoever, is someone who is hung up on fame. Someone with an ego. The ego is a good servant and a bad master. It is something that must one day be discarded.
It is the message. Who cares about the messenger?

Well, at the best of times a message board is like a game of Chinese telephone; get thirty people to pass a message in a line and the message will be guaranteed to be garbled at the end of the line.

I wonder if there is a limit to how many postings I can posit a day? Using the message board is a
non-narcotic, sociological kind of high, like gambling. These activities light up the singular anterior cortex, and the amygdala, the parts of the brain that register fear. When someone's SAC lights up in a moment of extreme alarm, the SACs of the people and animals around them light up as well. Contact high! -No, not really.

A limit would help me curb my habit. I need these irreversible, past-the-Rubicon, wax-in-the-ears-tied-to-a mast-while-sailing-past-the-island-of-the-deadly-singing-mermaids solutions whenever I think of a way to quit a certain pattern; to smash a psychic mechanism behind a certain habit that I feel pulled into, like message boarding. Instead of sand-castles it is a thought castle; a psychic structure that must be smashed. The geekiness, and this word is meant as a compliment behind Chinese people remembering their complex alphabet is nothing compared to modern North American man's ability to download in his mind from the 5th Dimension an obscure 70's song, for instance. It obviously takes more bytes to download rock and roll songs in one's mind than to download Chinese characters for people who know the alphabet of that language.

I could do with a limit to how many messages I send in a day. It is better to have it said of me, "You have sent in too few messages." rather than "You have sent in too many messages."

I am writing these messages in a perhaps clumsy way to help people with their lives.

"It is the duty of an American to help his fellow American, whether he wants it or not."
-HL Menchken; probably misquoted as usual.

A message board is a certain kind of power. In the old days before internet a radio announcer like Howard Stern would have this kind of power although I sure am glad that others of you don't take this so seriously. I would like to learn from you in that respect, and I am, slowly.

How does the message board safeguard against megalomaniacs? Ha ha ha ha!

Dean

David says:

Not guilty. I post under my own name and I have no aliases.

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

And people took ME to task for deadening this blog. This Dean guy is eating your lunch. I have nothing to add; he is the uber-Ubangi. Where he falls down is in relevance and controversy, where I hold a decisive advantage. Talk about something interesting, motherfucker.

"How does the message board safeguard against megalomaniacs?" As this board consists of nothing but megalomaniacs. Dean and the reactions to him represent nothing but an auto-immune disease. It's sickening the patient, much to the amusement of the antigen.

I am frankly enjoying watching "Dean" take over the discourse, and feel no need to add anything. To watch the posting of total and complete drivel, absolute dreck, devoid of anything interesting, relevant or truly to any particular point, and to watch as people run about holding their testicles (ovaries in the case of Isabel/Kevin/Beak/Godzilla/Shiva) in wonderment, groping for how to respond to this, is priceless. This is theater of the absurd, the epitome of the self-involvement of narcissism. I love every minute of it. As long as I can keep my mirror aimed the right way.

Dean = Quentin Quaalude

The enjoyment I've gotten these few days watching people struggle with how to respond to this "farce of nature", who is so obviously a parody of a zero with no hope of ever becoming a "one", is unsurpassed. It even exceeds the joy of watching the liberals here struggle to score a single legitimate debare point against Ubangi's conservative bombast.

Whether "Dean" was meant to prove my point or to refute me is of no consequence at this point. He has bent the space-time of MangoSauce around himself, and I am content to watch as this board flirts dangerously with the event-horizon which is "Dean".

He has out Ubang-ed me, people. Wake up, that's the purpose of this farce writ large.

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

Whoops, "legitimate debate point". Need a way to edit posts!

Greg says:

Yes, Ubangi, I agree that Dean is a created character. That, to me, is part of the genius. Did you ever see the Jim Carey movie about the comic, oh, what was his name... You know, the comic who played the silly immigrant on Taxi. Apparently that comic in real life was either a total loon or a total genius. Sometimes Dean has me puzzled as to which one he is. I read his entire website though, and tend to see him as transcending parody - taking irony beyond irony. Form and emptiness. You've noticed how he will write the most useless, extra words and descriptions. Perhaps art is in the eye of the beholder and he doesn't see it this way at all, but I take that as sort of watching how the mind goes on and on and on, taking things seriously while at the same time knowing that truth is relative and can't be taken seriously. Ever read the Onion.com? It has "news" articles about stuff that just isn't news. The contrast of the newscast style and non-newsworthy events makes it funny. Dean writes about stuff that just isn't noteworthy. He does it with a convincing and even heartfelt character, who manages to pop out a few clever lines. I don't know how or why, but once I felt I started to get a feel for his style of humor, (as I said, at first I took him at face value and did not think he was writing with a sense of humor), some of his stuff, when not puzzling me with the absurdity of it, made me laugh. Take a look at his website, and I think you'll eventually get a feel for his absurd and unique brand of humor.

Greg says:

I know that fawning seems a bit adolescent, but I do have great admiration for anyone who has managed to do something completely new. Is anyone else of the opinion that Dean has completely invented a new style of humor? Or maybe I just don't get around much? If you haven't read much of his website and don't see him as funny, read his site before responding.

Jules says:

No, it's not funny. Long winded and flawed as it is self obsessed. Just look at the number of "I"s and the references to the inner feelings.

Sorry Dean but you should find yourself the right lady and jump in. Perhaps you have problems emphasising with your lady and a language barrier will not help.

True love does exist as I can testify but you have to work at it when the first flush of sexual passion fades, as it always does.

P.S. If my wife is reading this, love you.

Greg says:

So did you read his website first or not?

Jules says:

Oops, sorry. That should have said "empathising" and not "emphasising".

Of course Dean can be quite emphatic.

Pat Paulsen(hic..!) says:

Ubangi,

Compelling points! Dean might just be a-tangentiliasing a wee bit much here, as we do believe. We'll gonna make him a betta man, and every man knows a betta man is betta for being a betta man because....hhmmn!?

Act I, Scene I: Pat Paulsen's wife enters Deans cramped apartment, through the computer screen, and stands beside him graciously.

"Dean, honney, put that funny contraption away. No, no, not the lap-top, the other "thing." Now, open up these curtains and let some AIR into the room. Only one shelf allowed for 5th-dimensional-conspiracy-theorie-novels, the rest hon, will have to go downstairs. What is that tinfoil fin doing attatched to your back? Go! Change your clothes inta somthin' proper n' respectable."

Act II, Scene I: Dean returns dressed a tad more "upscale" for his unusual and unannounced cyber guest/critic.

"Now about your writing, promise lil ol Pat there you'll start using that "preview" button; you just let the computer do your editing for you, and all it does is it lets you check what you wrote about, before when you were, well...you check it to make any diction adjustments on a non-sequitur writing style."

Sandy says:

Greg,

Do you mean all the comments posted here?

Where is HIS web site?

Sandy

Greg says:

http://stuffthatisawesome.tripod.com/awesome

Greg says:

It's a big site.

Here are a few more specific links:
http://stuffthatisawesome.tripod.com/awesome/id17.html

http://stuffthatisawesome.tripod.com/awesome/id15.html

Greg says:

Dean used to post as Prorogue, and entirely different character with a different voice, and a different writing style. Prorogue rarely wrote more than a few paragraphs. I call him Dean, and not the name he uses on his website out of respect for his character.

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

I invite you over to the "Noo nah" link for some Quentin Quaalude fun!

Sandy says:

Greg,

Thanks for that.
I looked; it IS a big site but I don't see any style similar to this guy, or any similar references. I didn't see any similarities between him and Prorogue either. But now that Ubangi mentions it, I DO see an obvious likeness between QQ and D. Thanks Ubangi.

Help!

Sandy

Greg says:

Ya, I had read Quentin before you posted, but decided not to comment.

Here is a quote from Wesley's site:

"I feel that an all-out Monkey war is a win win situation for everyone, except for maybe the Monkeys."

He makes his character at once sincere, funny, and ridiculous. The believable character and the voice of that character is part of the joke. That is why I call his humor post ironic, because it at once puts the author into the canvas, laughs at the author, and is sincere.

My sense of humor on the other hand is so sublimely dry as to be invisible.

Greg says:

Hi Sandy.

I find the voice of Dean and Wesley to be unmistakable, completely unique, and very difficult to emulate. No question about their being the same person. I knew it was him even before he used the word "awesome" in one of his posts.

I deduced that Prorogue, a person with a different voice from Dean and Wesley, is Wesley because it was he who posted a link to Wesley's site, as if the article he was pointing to was not a humor article but a research article. Andy Kaufman style humor, where if the audience doesn't get the joke, that makes it more funny.

Greg says:

I'm going on and on. I'm noticing similarities to Dean's humor and some of the characters that regularly contribute at theonion.com . So giving voice to a (sometimes seemingly unwittingly) funny character is not a new style of humor. What might be new is just his cadence and laughing at the very fact of saying anything at all. The silly details that needn't be said. Laughing at the very idea of thinking and talking. Obviously not everyone laughs, but after reading his whole site and starting to get a feel for his rhythm, I sometimes laugh out loud. That is quite rare for me. So I'm guessing he invented a new type of humor, just as some artists have invented new genres of Music.

Jules says:

Yes, I visited the web site before commenting on his self obsessed writing style.

I do not find his humour post-ironic so much as post humour.

It is a big web site but so what? I am sure if DANA wanted to put his collected long works on the web it would be a huge site but who would care? (No offence Dana but they need not be laid down for posterity, like Beujolais)

Greg says:

Dana could make money selling his writing.

So could Wesley.

You could not.

Quentin Quaalude says:

Five Mango Saucers have sent me checks already, but they bounced. Please send the money by Western Union. Address it to "Jiap". Thank you.

Cog says:

To Khun Dean:
...in no way implying that you should say farewell to Mangosauce, but why not create a personal Blog/Journal/Diary spot of your own as an alternative form of catharsis?

Here's a blog-type format to begin you on your journey of textual self-indulgence: http://www.blogger.com/start

Try http://ricebowljournals.com/ for what is advertized as an "Asian Online Journal Community".

Choak dee khrap.

Cog says:

Posted by Greg | July 28, 2004 04:12 PM
"My sense of humor on the other hand is so sublimely dry as to be invisible."

55555..snort snort.
.
.
.
.
Whatever...

This is what is fuckin' hilarious: one Canuck(Greg) dissects and interprets the postings of another Canuck(Dean) to be a new and sophisticated brand of humor.

What a bunch of shit! (pardon moi Francais)

Pat Paulsen says:

"Why not create a personal Blog/Journal/Diary spot of your own as an alternative form of catharsis?"

Well said Cog(ent). Dean, endless prattle followed by a non-sequitor is....? Sorry, gotta run, time is money!

"This is what is fuckin' hilarious: one Canuck(Greg) dissects and interprets the postings of another Canuck(Dean) to be a new and sophisticated brand of humor."

Yeah, and how to start a cult maybe? Dean's innocent; one interesting sentence from eight, he simply got ahead of himself.

Pat

Dana says:

Me fears that analyzing Dean's writing is starting to look like the French analyzing Jerry Lewis movies. Nothing but tiger traps ahead on this trail.

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

Sober today, Pat?

Dean says:

People will say of expatriates living in Thailand, "You would sell out your own country just for some slant-eyed pussy."

_________________________________

I think that I am going to quit writing for the message board. Message boards have the potential to give a person a lot of power. With power of course comes responsibility and consequence.

A couple of days ago, after my last posting, I read a lot of flames. I told my friends about this message board. And that I got verbally abused.

For my part, I will not insult any of you even in jest. This would be, again, just fucking around with forces. Actually, I am glad that I met you.
I will look again on this message board on Monday next week. I think from now on, I will try to post only one message a week. So it has got to count.

"If you love looking for cartain qualities, then go and find somebody else to love.
If you love for the sake of love alone, then I will love you forever."
-Gustav Mahler's wife in a letter to Gustav Mahler.

Take care,
Dean

Dean says:

Why go on a messge board as a soap-box for the public to hear your forum and thus be influenced, when you can get a blog for as less as $10/ month?
Go independent or shut up.
Message boards have a soap opera dynamic.
Message boards can be a cure for cabin fever.

A couple of entries back, someone accused me of trying to start a cult.

"Organizations do not lose their sense of purpose at the beginning. However, once they have achieved their aims do they fall into rituals and vague repitition."
-Dune Messiah

Not to split hairs, I wrote that Organized religion is the religiousization of the 5th Dimension. Notice that I did not write religionization. Religionization is a noble impluse. Religiousization is the insanity what Nyogen Senzaki called Cathedral Zen, with the robes and the sanctimonious titles.
I don't like cults including Buddhist cults and their bourgouse benefactors. Religion is the path and not the destination.

Religiousization, particularly getting involved with cults is for a person to sublimate their natural sexual drives for some puritanical denial trip.

I like Buddhism because the hallmark of Buddhism is compassion.

"May we develop Compassion as boundless as the Sky so that all beings may come to find rest in the clear light of their own awareness." -Tibetan Prayer.

I wish you all the best, eh?
Dean
Vancouver B.C. CANADA
Thursday evening

Dana says:

Anybody feel like taking odds on an addict?

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

"Dean":

You have repeatedly accused ...well nobody in particular, of flaming you. Please see this resource for a definition of "flame" as pertains to the internet: http://info.astrian.net/jargon/terms/f.html#flame

To wit: The first definition of "flame" is, "To post an email message intended to insult and provoke." Although I don't claim to have read every syllable on this blog, especially lately, I don't remember a single posting which fits that description as pertains to you.

If you want to see some flames, see the insulting posts aimed at Tanai Kwai and to a lesser extent (dare I mention this name in the same sentence as that of the venerated TK?) Ubangi. Your postings have drawn curiosity, and at worst derision, but I don't remember any insuts. Even my posts were meant to lampoon, not to provoke.

The second definition from the cited resource is more instructive perhaps: "To speak incessantly and/or rabidly on some relatively uninteresting subject or with a patently ridiculous attitude." Could your accusation be a case of the blaze calling the torch hot?

Pat Paulsen(hic..!) says:

Ubangi,

Agreed!

Hic(..!)

yours,

Pat

Ubangi Me, Ibangi U says:

Pat:

Nice to see you've been drinking again. Maybe it's why you seem to be the only person to fully appreciate my postings.

- U

Prorogue says:

An oldy but a goody!

(and again nothing to do with little ol' moi)

http://maddox.xmission.com/c.cgi?u=thailand

Greg says:

Those appear to be page view counters at the bottom of each page. They change by a few digit on page refresh. Very impressive numbers! Can you confirm if they are page views?

Greg says:

Wow - that site get's 11 times more visitors per day than mangosauce.com, and has 2,295 other sites linking to it. Dude! Serious traffic. And another huge site. 15 reviews on Alexa for the site, 4 out of 5 stars average. Why no banner ads? You could make a living off of those sites.

Greg says:

The two sites post different pictures, and yet tell many of the same jokes, use many of the same affectations, share much of the same verbal style, and a great deal of visual style. Am I as loony as that paranoid schizophrenic I once dated, or is this all part of your master plan, to make me think I'm paranoid?

Greg says:

I mean, different pictures of the supposed authors.

Greg says:

Same vampires, same site layout and style, different pictures of the author. Yes, your balls are as huge as stated.

Are you the devil?

Logged in and respectably inane Greg says:

So, David,

When you have a crisis of meaning, you would not post it publicly? Crisises of meaning are gay? Not fit for public consumption. Out of bounds. I'm of the opposite opinion, that nervous breakdowns are good fodder for fun.

Greg says:

Will the new software allow for editing of posts? It is so embarassing to see my remarks in the wrong thread, and not to be able to consolade or edit public thoughts.

Jules says:

Well,

Thank goodness Dean has decided to only post once a week. What meandering bullshit it truly was.

I have been published a number of times and I know the effort required to put your thoughts down succinctly and clearly without verbosity.

Crouching bargirl hidden Condom says:

Following my years of chewing the fat with UK women I have a fool proof means of keeping my mind focused on the merits of the Thai Lady.

When one is questioning life and wandering the streets find the biggest street dog. You know the one, the one with no fur beyond its neck, more saggy tits than a stretch limo hen night in Swansea and the guarenteed missing body part.

Once you've struggled to lift the thing ponder the (lack of) flexibility of the beast and how difficult it is for it to wriggle free of your grasp until eventually gravity and your own energy force you to drop it with a loud flump to the ground. Beware the bite especially if you have something it wants!

Next find a cute little street cat, small, diseased and undernourished. Pick it up with one hand, feel its spine curve around your hand, witness its affection especially when you tickle it and watch it wriggle free with a gracefull skip as it lands. Also note the delight when it is rewarded with a small titbit.

Works everytime for me - please note no animals were harmed in the making of this comment and 40% of dogs have rabies probably (oh and if it were Cambodia 12% of Police dogs too)

Basil Brush says:

Having just returned from three weeks in the UK, I can confirm David's opinion about the obesity of the female population. However, what makes it far worse is that the current fashion is to expose one's midriff. Arriving at Heathrow, I saw a (circa) sixteen year old with the figure of a baby hippo displaying a gut that would have done a seasoned beer drinker proud. From there it went down hill with women of all ages proudly displaying their trouser overhangs, usually with tattoos and a belly ring. Thank heavens for the mind obliterating qualities of real ale and the prospect of returning to the City of (slim) Angles.

baxiboy says:

I can tell you guys, the ones who are maybe listening to that little voice in the back of their head saying ' well the uk isn't really that bad'. It really is. Remember, you wouldn't remember it like that if it wasn't like that. It's as shit as you remember and i know because i just spent 6 weeks with my thai fiance ( if that word really means much to these fucking bitches) and now i've just spent a week with my mate's going around the local pubs in manchester. It is soooo shit compared to bkk. I would sooner be in a little shitty bamboo/concrete mossie infected watering hole than in an english boozer! Yeah, we have women, but unless you look like george clooney and have a fat wallet then you will never get with these tarts. But who would want too? i can shag a cute little minx in BKK who will appreciate the breakfast i bought her or i can spend far more money (and dignity) on a fat arsed lazy felang cow who considers herself far pretty than she really is! So what am i gonna do? And to all the readership who are women- no, im not a 56 year old dirty sleazebag ( which is exactly what i plan to be) im actually a reasonably attractive 22 year old soldier.

david manchester says:

funny as fuck. i love thoese kind of articles. 2003 -2004 did a world trip.last 6 months spent in south east asia. on return to uk, i now no longer find farang women attractive. im now with a tiwanese girl but take regukar trips to thailand to be with the most beautifull women in the world. i am planning to spend longer periods out there, soon. d