[Pattaya, 1/21/23] Pattaya must be the world’s densest concentration of bald heads, huge beer bellies, fake smiles, bullshitty conversations in the saddest English, Viagra and Cialis consumption, and horny wearers of adult diapers. “Before we get it on, baby, let me change my diaper, or maybe you can do it for me? At least I still have my wits! If I laugh too hard, I’ll spit my denture clear across the room. You didn’t understand one word I said, did you? That’s alright, we’ll help each other grow.”
Oh, they're here in the Great State of Texas, all right! And their numbers are growing!
They don't have to fly all the way to Thailand to keep Top Ramen in the pantry! No, siree!
Don't ask me HOW these demanding, loud-mouthed, entitled, middle-aged, "tatted," 300 lb., trailer-dwelling gringas manage to pull it off, but—boy-howdy—they somehow DO!
Maybe it's a combination of factors: Texas is a huge international gateway for—well—for whoever the hell FEELS LIKE coming to the U.S., (although I do marvel at just how many newcomers haven't gotten the memo that the U.S. is a "has-been" empire; one they may want to steer clear of, lest they find themselves unable to cross the border in the opposite direction trying to GTFO if the SHTF here. Wouldn't THAT be ironic?) So, there's a potentially vast client base of sorts—albeit a largely destitute one posing "mucho peligro" health risks—but HEY!—Where there are solo, swingin' ding-dongs, there's a way...!
...Especially if Ms. Gringa ThunderLard of border dive town—say, Laredo—is facing yet another three weeks before Uncle Sam squats to "reload" her zero-balance SNAP & TANF debit cards. She's LEARNED how to get CREATIVE in these hyperinflationary, economically-hopeless times when she has run out of gas—and places to hide—her "check-engine-light special" from El Repo Man, the fridge is down to expired mustard and fossilized, leftover Taco Bell, and she's long since traded the toiletries and free bus vouchers the food bank gave her with her neighbor for a couple weak Vicodin tablets. (Took the edge off the afternoon her mobile phone service was cut off for non-payment, y'know...)
Again, I don't know how she pulls it off—especially when you consider most of the female, Latina persuasion is feminine, attractive, and often even athletic (before they inevitably explode with diabetes in their late 20's)—but ThunderLard draws a veritable stampede of "Sanchos" taking numbers to roll her in flour! And, believe you me, ol' Gringa ThunderLard knows how to turn, "¡Sí, señor!" into a stocked fridge, phone service reconnection, or a car note payment, honey! Thailand? Nah! She's gotten GOOD at hawking her wares at Skeeter-Bob's local pool hall, the truck stop motel, and the Home Depot parking lot. She's even picked up some conversational Haitian Creole, French Congolese, and Somali... Win-win, right?
Right here in the good, ol' Yoo Ess of A...🤣
Much love to you, Linh! I love your "seedy-side-of-existence" posts from around the world!
I am a prince in Nigeria, and I have recently embezzled ten hundred millions dollars from the central bank. Your plan for Valley Girl Gashes is very good, and I can see you are an experienced entrepreneur.
So I will invest one thousand hundred dollars in your venture! Hosanna! My banking agent will need a small deposit from you to secure your account to receive my investment. I hope that's not a problem, I assure you it's customary. Please send your details at once!
Wow. I have been quoted. I am honored, good sir, even if it was a throw away misogynistic comment in an ex-ex-patriate blog. My experience of young American women is fairly limited to what I sometimes see on YouTube, which is curated by channels I watch to show them at their most facile, fickle and febrile. But I have a sister who is a pretty good example of the worst effects of Aquarian Age Feminism, and I have worked with so many single mothers who are also military veterans that I tend to think that no one stays married for longer than five years. I know I'm wrong, but it's what I see. Maybe I need to train my eyes elsewhere. There are probably brothels in Europe where Mansfield or Monroe types are trained and presented, no matter where they are born. I was not prepared for the notion of a "Miley Cyrus clone whore," but you have to be right. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery?
Audrey in Seoul: Give me a normal Korean looking Korean woman any day, over the ones who have been bred and carved to look like some amalgamation of whiteness and Tinkerbell. And whoever came up with the idea that Korean female "dancing" has to be synchronized grinding in hot pants, needs to get every Pharma booster shot, in their genitals. It was alluring to watch for me for a long time, but underneath my dick-thinking, I always sensed that this was subversion and perversion of a great culture. Now I just can't watch. The latest trend in Korean rom-coms, apparently, based on what my wife is currently watching, is "all Asian diversity experience" where women of all the East Asian nations, who pretty much all look the same level of fake Tinkerbell, compete for the same femme-boy, so they have to all speak English, just to be mutually understood. That is some bizarre example of internalized Colonialism, or something, but I leave that to the Marxist critics with ugly hair.
So crazy that the working girls have to say "no share." Some basic ethics are missing from Indian teaching of economics.
In 2001 I was in a SEA capital for immersive language training, supposedly under "cover" as a student. Our hosts were aware that we were US military, and kept trying to get us to slip up and admit it, but we kept up the charade. (Secrets in the intel world are often like that, stupid games that would have really disappointed Sherlock Holmes as insignificant puzzles not worth his time or effort. I could tell someone which language I was trained in, and where, but I could not tell someone that I worked in espionage on the country where that language is primarily spoken. And most secrets, in my experience, are exactly that dumb.) The local whores were amazingly raw ugly peasant girls. I was amazed at their ugliness, because when we went into the countryside I saw many good looking women. I did not partake, but every evening they would swarm me at a certain street corner, and I enjoyed bantering with them and hearing their country accents. Anyway, since I could speak the local lingo, what I liked to do was walk around at night and talk to regular people. But I had to stop telling people I was an American. Whenever I did that, they got all eager and overexcited, and they all thought that I could explain capitalism and tell them how to get rich. I couldn't make them understand that getting rich was just as much a mystery to me, and that if I knew, I wouldn't be there at that time, in that capacity. I figured out that I dressed badly enough to pose as a Russian engineer. Then the pressure was off, and I could make friends.
I should take inspiration, and start a TikTok channel wherein I teach young American gals how to get their passport and how to exploit the rich Indian man's fetish for Slutopia Americana.
Linh, doin' what you do best. Who has been to these places? Fred Reed, me and you, for three. They are both fascinating and depressing. Why go??? Sometimes just for a drink. Sometimes to see how the other side lives. And some for a cheap simulacrum of the affection that can't be had back home for love nor money.
We in the west never know what women want. Neither do they. At least in Pattaya they do. Cold hard cash. Not the best medium of exchange if the commodity is love, but often, in this modern world, all there is.
Honored to be quoted. I guess that is a good thing. Anyway. I am having a hard time visualizing American whores at America themed bars in Pattaya.
Probably only 15% of women post college age are slender in the US. The rest are overweight to obese.
Slender women who aren't tatted up or have blue hair are a dwindling resource in America and can make a lot of money through Only Fans and sugar daddy sites plus many men compete over them. Even if the bottom drops out of the economy, they are becoming a scarce commodity.
There isn't a real market for the fatter broads in Eastern Asia. Body positivity isn't a thing here even though the Jews try to push it.
When I lived in China, Chinese men would ask me, "do you like fat women?" Then they would ask, "Why are American women so fat?"
My Thai wife looks slender to my American eyes. Not to Thais. When a female relative visits her, the first comment is "why are you so fat?" Her crime is she needs to lose about 1.5 to 2 kilos to be a swimsuit model.
The fatter American and UK women will have a hard time competing with the far more plentiful Eastern European slender, beautiful women (there is actually real competition among them there like in Eastern Asia) who will be renamed Tammy or Becky and tell you they are cowgirls from Texas. Giddy up cowboy.
So if those "Russian" girls are not really Russian, what are they? Ukrainian refugees? Romanians? Brazilians? Thai girls with peroxide blond hair? Curious. As for the "Pain is temporary, glory is forever" t-shirt guy. Unfortunately, a beer belly and baldness are forever too.
Oh, they're here in the Great State of Texas, all right! And their numbers are growing!
They don't have to fly all the way to Thailand to keep Top Ramen in the pantry! No, siree!
Don't ask me HOW these demanding, loud-mouthed, entitled, middle-aged, "tatted," 300 lb., trailer-dwelling gringas manage to pull it off, but—boy-howdy—they somehow DO!
Maybe it's a combination of factors: Texas is a huge international gateway for—well—for whoever the hell FEELS LIKE coming to the U.S., (although I do marvel at just how many newcomers haven't gotten the memo that the U.S. is a "has-been" empire; one they may want to steer clear of, lest they find themselves unable to cross the border in the opposite direction trying to GTFO if the SHTF here. Wouldn't THAT be ironic?) So, there's a potentially vast client base of sorts—albeit a largely destitute one posing "mucho peligro" health risks—but HEY!—Where there are solo, swingin' ding-dongs, there's a way...!
...Especially if Ms. Gringa ThunderLard of border dive town—say, Laredo—is facing yet another three weeks before Uncle Sam squats to "reload" her zero-balance SNAP & TANF debit cards. She's LEARNED how to get CREATIVE in these hyperinflationary, economically-hopeless times when she has run out of gas—and places to hide—her "check-engine-light special" from El Repo Man, the fridge is down to expired mustard and fossilized, leftover Taco Bell, and she's long since traded the toiletries and free bus vouchers the food bank gave her with her neighbor for a couple weak Vicodin tablets. (Took the edge off the afternoon her mobile phone service was cut off for non-payment, y'know...)
Again, I don't know how she pulls it off—especially when you consider most of the female, Latina persuasion is feminine, attractive, and often even athletic (before they inevitably explode with diabetes in their late 20's)—but ThunderLard draws a veritable stampede of "Sanchos" taking numbers to roll her in flour! And, believe you me, ol' Gringa ThunderLard knows how to turn, "¡Sí, señor!" into a stocked fridge, phone service reconnection, or a car note payment, honey! Thailand? Nah! She's gotten GOOD at hawking her wares at Skeeter-Bob's local pool hall, the truck stop motel, and the Home Depot parking lot. She's even picked up some conversational Haitian Creole, French Congolese, and Somali... Win-win, right?
Right here in the good, ol' Yoo Ess of A...🤣
Much love to you, Linh! I love your "seedy-side-of-existence" posts from around the world!
Love, Cindy
Dear Sir: -
I am a prince in Nigeria, and I have recently embezzled ten hundred millions dollars from the central bank. Your plan for Valley Girl Gashes is very good, and I can see you are an experienced entrepreneur.
So I will invest one thousand hundred dollars in your venture! Hosanna! My banking agent will need a small deposit from you to secure your account to receive my investment. I hope that's not a problem, I assure you it's customary. Please send your details at once!
Wow. I have been quoted. I am honored, good sir, even if it was a throw away misogynistic comment in an ex-ex-patriate blog. My experience of young American women is fairly limited to what I sometimes see on YouTube, which is curated by channels I watch to show them at their most facile, fickle and febrile. But I have a sister who is a pretty good example of the worst effects of Aquarian Age Feminism, and I have worked with so many single mothers who are also military veterans that I tend to think that no one stays married for longer than five years. I know I'm wrong, but it's what I see. Maybe I need to train my eyes elsewhere. There are probably brothels in Europe where Mansfield or Monroe types are trained and presented, no matter where they are born. I was not prepared for the notion of a "Miley Cyrus clone whore," but you have to be right. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery?
Audrey in Seoul: Give me a normal Korean looking Korean woman any day, over the ones who have been bred and carved to look like some amalgamation of whiteness and Tinkerbell. And whoever came up with the idea that Korean female "dancing" has to be synchronized grinding in hot pants, needs to get every Pharma booster shot, in their genitals. It was alluring to watch for me for a long time, but underneath my dick-thinking, I always sensed that this was subversion and perversion of a great culture. Now I just can't watch. The latest trend in Korean rom-coms, apparently, based on what my wife is currently watching, is "all Asian diversity experience" where women of all the East Asian nations, who pretty much all look the same level of fake Tinkerbell, compete for the same femme-boy, so they have to all speak English, just to be mutually understood. That is some bizarre example of internalized Colonialism, or something, but I leave that to the Marxist critics with ugly hair.
So crazy that the working girls have to say "no share." Some basic ethics are missing from Indian teaching of economics.
In 2001 I was in a SEA capital for immersive language training, supposedly under "cover" as a student. Our hosts were aware that we were US military, and kept trying to get us to slip up and admit it, but we kept up the charade. (Secrets in the intel world are often like that, stupid games that would have really disappointed Sherlock Holmes as insignificant puzzles not worth his time or effort. I could tell someone which language I was trained in, and where, but I could not tell someone that I worked in espionage on the country where that language is primarily spoken. And most secrets, in my experience, are exactly that dumb.) The local whores were amazingly raw ugly peasant girls. I was amazed at their ugliness, because when we went into the countryside I saw many good looking women. I did not partake, but every evening they would swarm me at a certain street corner, and I enjoyed bantering with them and hearing their country accents. Anyway, since I could speak the local lingo, what I liked to do was walk around at night and talk to regular people. But I had to stop telling people I was an American. Whenever I did that, they got all eager and overexcited, and they all thought that I could explain capitalism and tell them how to get rich. I couldn't make them understand that getting rich was just as much a mystery to me, and that if I knew, I wouldn't be there at that time, in that capacity. I figured out that I dressed badly enough to pose as a Russian engineer. Then the pressure was off, and I could make friends.
I should take inspiration, and start a TikTok channel wherein I teach young American gals how to get their passport and how to exploit the rich Indian man's fetish for Slutopia Americana.
Linh, doin' what you do best. Who has been to these places? Fred Reed, me and you, for three. They are both fascinating and depressing. Why go??? Sometimes just for a drink. Sometimes to see how the other side lives. And some for a cheap simulacrum of the affection that can't be had back home for love nor money.
We in the west never know what women want. Neither do they. At least in Pattaya they do. Cold hard cash. Not the best medium of exchange if the commodity is love, but often, in this modern world, all there is.
Honored to be quoted. I guess that is a good thing. Anyway. I am having a hard time visualizing American whores at America themed bars in Pattaya.
Probably only 15% of women post college age are slender in the US. The rest are overweight to obese.
Slender women who aren't tatted up or have blue hair are a dwindling resource in America and can make a lot of money through Only Fans and sugar daddy sites plus many men compete over them. Even if the bottom drops out of the economy, they are becoming a scarce commodity.
There isn't a real market for the fatter broads in Eastern Asia. Body positivity isn't a thing here even though the Jews try to push it.
When I lived in China, Chinese men would ask me, "do you like fat women?" Then they would ask, "Why are American women so fat?"
My Thai wife looks slender to my American eyes. Not to Thais. When a female relative visits her, the first comment is "why are you so fat?" Her crime is she needs to lose about 1.5 to 2 kilos to be a swimsuit model.
The fatter American and UK women will have a hard time competing with the far more plentiful Eastern European slender, beautiful women (there is actually real competition among them there like in Eastern Asia) who will be renamed Tammy or Becky and tell you they are cowgirls from Texas. Giddy up cowboy.
So if those "Russian" girls are not really Russian, what are they? Ukrainian refugees? Romanians? Brazilians? Thai girls with peroxide blond hair? Curious. As for the "Pain is temporary, glory is forever" t-shirt guy. Unfortunately, a beer belly and baldness are forever too.
Linh, you are one hardboiled and cynical dude. Yet, I like you. Should you ever land in Tampa, I would like to buy you a beer.
Having watched a few "walk" videos from Pattaya Walking Street and Beach Road, I have to agree that it is indeed a sad looking place.
During the daytime the beech front looked OK and I wonder if the city itself is an OK place to be.