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Hump Day Is Bump Day #40
26 Wednesday Nov 2014
Posted Hump Day Is Bump Day
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26 Wednesday Nov 2014
Posted Hump Day Is Bump Day
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25 Tuesday Nov 2014
Posted Tips
inOn our first visit to Chiang Mai, (Noom’s first ever) to really enjoy the experience Noom decided he needed to go local. With a passion. Or at least what he envisioned the rural people of the north considered local. It was early in our relationship and the first time I got to see how he pursues an idea with a singular intense of purpose. We spent an entire evening at the Sunday Night Market roaming from stall to stall as he assembled his ‘northern Thailand’ wardrobe. Despite money being no object – meaning I didn’t object to the money he was spending out of my wallet – at each stall he’d haggle his little ass off, and then more often than not would walk away knowing he could get a better price somewhere just up the road. Hours later, with the market closing, on our way back through the market he ended up stopping at some of those same stalls to make his purchases. No problemo. By the end of our outing he had his outfit for our stay.
I’m not sure if those who live in and around Chiang Mai would consider a white cotton pair of fisherman pants to be part of their traditional wardrobe. Or the matching white shirt with a high Chinese collar. The sandals he may have gotten right. Even if I noticed most locals just went with rubber flip-flops. But the important thing was that Noom was happy. And much like a child with a new toy couldn’t resist wearing his new outfit to bed that night. Which didn’t make me any too happy. I tried using a bit of logic instead of just whining about his lack of nudity, telling him that if he slept in his new Northern Thailand clothes they’d be wrinkled for tomorrow’s wearing. He agreed. And then told me that would make them look more authentic. I made a mental note to only buy him sexy underwear in the future.
But part of the fun of that trip was that I’d told him he could decide everything we would do.; And then got busy filling in all the hours he couldn’t come up with an activity for. I shoulda figured after the fisherman pant outfit his knowledge of the northern part of his country was limited at best. But he didn’t completely crap out. He had one idea, one which he saved as a surprise. And he spent a few days surreptitiously gathering info, then telling me how much money he needed to arrange what he would only refer to as ‘you surprise’. And when the big night arrived, surprised I was.
Have I ever mentioned before how much I don’t like surprises?
Finding ourselves in Chiang Mai once again, this time with my recently acquired boyfriend, Noom decided that Dave too needed to experience the authentic Northern Thailand. Having become much more familiar with Noom’s mode of operations, when he told me I knew there would be no denying his plan. Except for the surprise part. Out for the day, when Noom made one of his frequent pit stops to water a fire hydrant, I pulled Dave aside and gave him the 411.
“Tonight we’re going to a Khan Toke dinner show. It’s kinda like one of those luaus they put on for tourists back in Hawaii. Bad food, bad native dancing, and you’ll suffer through a bad back tomorrow ‘cuz you have to sit on the floor throughout your meal. But Noom has his heart set on showing off his native land to you so we have no choice.”
“You’ve been to one of these things before?
“Sad to say, yes.”
“And it really sucks?”
“Worse than what I’ve already told you.”
“And you didn’t tell him it sucked?”
“That would have hurt his feelings.”
“So now I have to suffer through it too, just because you didn’t have the balls to tell him how much you hated it your first time?”
“Yeah, but we can stop at McDonalds afterwards so we’re not starving all night. Shhhh, here he comes. You have to act surprised.”
“No what I have to act is like I have a slight case of dysentery and can’t leave the hotel tonight.”
“Um, I think the one we’re going to has elephant rides too.”
“Liar.”
The khan toke dinner is a tradition among Lanna people dating way back in history. To the mid 1950s. The khantoke itself – a pedestal tray used as a small dining table – is a bit older. It was used for special meals and celebrations when eating off the floor was just too common. You’ve probably seen towers of different sized khantokes in handicraft shops at stalls around Thailand and possibly thought one would make a good cake pedestal. After spending an evening at a khan toke dinner and cultural show, you’ll probably think khantokes should only be used as cake pedestals. But hey, almost anything beats having your dinner served on the floor.
Because being original has never been a Thai trait, there are several places around Chiang Mai that put on khan toke dinners for the masses. Aficionados claim the best is at the Old Chiang Mai Cultural Center, located at the edge of the city about a 5 minute ride from the center of Chiang Mai. You can book your excursion almost everywhere in Chiang Mai, and most come with a free bus ride to and from the event. Personally I suggest arriving in your own private tuk tuk. It will help prepare your body for the torture to come.
Once at the Old Chiang Mai Cultural Center your evening begins with instructions to remove your shoes before being led to your not-a-table (also known as the floor), not because of any religious reasons as with visiting a wat but because it’d be rude to be tracking in dirt on the carpeting where your fellow diners will be grazing. Once you figure out how to lower yourself to the floor without looking like you’re falling off a bar stool, there are stacked, triangular shaped ‘pillows’ to rest against. Fortunately, before your food is served you’re given the opportunity to try those pillows out. And once you realize they tend to slip across the carpeting when you put your weight on them, you’ll find a new position that allows you to remain in one spot.
As soon as the serving staff sees that you are not slipping into some other waitperson’s section, your food will arrive. You’ll note I didn’t mention menus. That’s because it’s a fixed meal. And while some refer to it as a buffet, it ain’t. Your not-a-table gets the same food as everyone else’s. If you arrived early (so that means you were not accompanied by a Thai) you may get seconds. If you are lucky. Or not. If you are even luckier.
The food comes in small bowls and fills your group’s khantoke. There is fried chicken, Burmese pork curry, fried pork skins, fried bananas, rice, not-fried vegetables, and some chili paste so that what you choose to eat has at least a bit of flavor. The best part of the meal is that if you go traditional, you get to eat it with your fingers. And the five second rule is extended by three seconds since any food you drop takes less time to hit the floor. Now aren’t you glad they made everyone take off their shoes?
Oh. And you get a fruit platter at the end of your meal too. Plus all the booze you can drink. As long as you are willing to pay for it. As you go. Because the price of your ticket doesn’t include alcohol even though getting wasted is a tradition among tourists that dates back even further than the traditional khan toke dinner does
About an hour into your meal, the entertainment starts. It’s traditional Thai dancing at its finest. Thais, other than those making their living as coyote dancers at the bars in Patpong, are not known for either their rhythm or dancing skills, but their attempts does help take your mind away from the horrendous music accompanying the dancers. And like traditional Hawaiian luaus filled with Samoan fire dancers and Tahitian bump and grind, in Thailand they’ve added a good dollop of non-traditional Thai dances to the show – like Samoan fire dancers – too. And like at traditional Hawaiian luaus, at the end of the performance the dancers grab a few unsuspecting tourists, pull them on stage, and make them attempt to dance Thai-style so that everyone else can have a good laugh and forget how uncomfortable sitting on the floor can be.
But Wait! There’s more! After your meal and after watching the cultural performance you can move to a nearby barn to watch even more traditional Thai dancing. More of the local tribal version than that of the royal court, it’s a fascinating look at how hill tribe ladies learned that blocking move they exhibit at the night bazaar, the one that manages to keep them directly in your path until you buy something from them. Which a few of the dancers practice in trying to get a tip out of you before you leave.
The best part of the evening is that if you took a tuk-tuk, there’s a McDonalds a mere two minutes from the venue. And just a few minutes further into town you can experience a total different type of traditional Thai dancing at any one of a number of gogo bars.
If you enjoy visiting Jim Thompson’s House Of Silk For Sale, a traditional khan toke dinner show is probably right for you. And there are worse ways of spending your time in Chiang Mai. Like visiting an ‘authentic’ Hill Tribe village. But there are plenty of restaurants serving much better Thai food, and you can always get some take-out and eat it sitting on the floor of your hotel room.
The Old Chiang Mai Cultural Center’s Khan Toke Dinner and Cultural Show is held nightly starting at 7pm. The dancing begins around 8 and the after show dance performance lasts about 30 minutes. Depending on where you buy your tickets, dinner, with one free non-alcoholic drink will run you 500 to 600 baht per person. But attending the dinner show and keeping your bar boy happy, as MasterCard likes to say, is priceless. As for boyfriends, promise he might get to ride an elephant the next day and you may still get lucky after your meal.
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25 Tuesday Nov 2014
Posted Twinky Tuesday
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24 Monday Nov 2014
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“Now I know what it feels like to be a woman,” whined Dave as we made our way down Soi 4, none too successfully trying to dodge the numerous pairs of eyes that were busy sizing us up.
“Come on dude, we’ve talked about this. Just ‘cuz you bottom doesn’t mean you’re the woman.”
“Asshole. That’s not what I mean. This is like walking through a meat market.”
“Just be glad you’re not an Asian twink.”
“No, you should be glad I’m not an Asian twink.”
If you are out for a gay night on the town in Bangkok and don’t want that night to include little fem boys screeching to tip them while being plowed on your lap, Silom Soi 4 is the spot. Anchored by the venerable Telephone Pub and Balcony Bar, it’s the town’s gay soi where food and drinks are on the menu instead of sex. But then being filled with gay men, sex is always on the menu in one form or another. And while you’re looking for an open table, a few hundred pair of hungry eyeballs are all busy contemplating the chance of you becoming their next meal.
I’ve had a lot of fun nights sitting streetside on Soi 4 over the years. But those fun nights were always when accompanied by friends. On my solo visits it’s usually an early start to the night with the far more enjoyable Soi Twilight planned for later in the evening. So being hit on by money boys and the elderly ain’t all that. But with all the other places to grab a drink in Patpong, Dave and I had never been to Soi 4 together. And as a newly minted gay man visiting Bangkok, I thought he should have that experience. Between feeling like he was a naked model on a runway and the fluttering of eye lashes from the fem waiter when we finally found an open table, Dave wasn’t so sure that was necessarily a good thing.
“I’ve done Bangkok as a gay man before ya know. You just didn’t know it.”
“Well neither did you so it doesn’t count. Besides now when we hit the gogo bars you can openly drool over the naked guys.”
“I’ve seen ’em, they do nothing for me. Now if you’d get up on the stage . . .”
My witty retort was drowned out by the braying laughter of Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life. Or current love of my life if you ignore Dave. Which was beginning to become a habit. Come to think of it, ignoring Noom was becoming routine too. It was safer on both counts.
On our first night together the three of us hopped into bed as a group. As a naked group. For old-time’s sake. Except this time around Dave was in the middle. And not that I had a three-way in mind, but rather because embarrassing a newly minted gay boy is just a hell of a lot of fun, I reached down and got Dave hard. Not that getting a newly minted gay boy who is naked in bed with two other dudes is much of a challenge either. Pulling the covers back to show Noom what we’d worked up embarrassed Dave greatly. Kinda, sorta. But then he’s still getting used to the idea that his dick is now gay too. So part of him wasn’t quite as embarrassed as the rest of him was. Regardless, Noom wasn’t impressed. Nor did he feel obligated to prove whose dick was the biggest. He rolled over to face the window instead. Ignoring each other quickly became the rule of the day.
“That guy over there keeps checking you out.”
“Customah.”
One of the endearing things about Noom is that while you’d assume he’s not easily embarrassed considering what he does for a living, he is when confronted with bidness of nights past when away from his bar. It’s an uncomfortable situation for him. Kinda like running into an old boyfriend out with his new boyfriend with both acting friendly when the new boyfriend knows you’ve been there before him and is none too pleased about it. Dave had quickly deduced that when away from the bar world, Noom didn’t like to be reminded of the bar world and the livelihood he made there. And had just as quickly taken to pointing out every old, fat, ugly, or degenerate-looking farang we passed and then asking Noom if he was one of Noom’s customers.
The first few times he did so Noom took his question seriously. The next few he used sign language to reply. As much as he loves a joke being beat to death, that he was part of the punch line didn’t set all that well with him. His counterpunch to that offensive was to pretend Dave and my relationship didn’t exist and that Dave was in Bangkok to find the man of his dreams. Noom has taken to pointing out every far-too-young, twinky, and obviously gay local we passed and then asking Dave if he wanted Noom to introduce Dave to him. Being confronted with an actual past customer in this round, Noom went for the kill and told the twinky waiter that Dave liked him. A lot. Not being in on the joke, the twink plopped himself down on Dave’s lap. Dave was not amused. Noom’s laughter, however, echoed down the soi.
Ignoring the heeltap left in his glass – an unheard of feat in its own right – Dave managed to disentangle himself from his potential suitor and rose, giving the non-verbal version of Noom’s directorial cry, “We go,” and we joined the flow of the insane number of people, jostling and laughing, hurrying, hanging out and smoking, making their way down Silom; a deluge of shoppers, gawkers, and hustlers so intent on their own brand of fun or capitalism that made it impossible to go at our own pace. Cutting through Patpong’s night market limned by the glow of bulbs strung in shallow arcs above the jumble of stalls, we hit Suriwong and its throng of pedestrians, sausage grillers, and juice vendors who conspire to make every inch of sidewalk impassable and the parking lot like conglomeration of taxis painted yellow and green like rainforest parrots your safer bet, having made only a singular stop along our way while Noom held a particularly lacy pair of pink men’s underwear aloft suggesting they were the perfect fit for Dave.
Dave was still coming to terms with what being a gay man entailed; Noom was intent on stressing the gay in his new reality. Or at least Noom’s definition of gay. Which boils down to an almost ladyboy-like effeminate bottom. And any move away from that ideal Dave made Noom quickly dealt with by reminding him, once again, “You gay.” Knowing that if we turned right for a visit to Soi Twilight despite how many potential customers Dave would find to point out to Noom, Noom would win the night by leading us into Classic Boys and its twink-filled aquarium, we turned left instead to head to Tawan. I thought Noom would have been disappointed at losing his easy score. The devilish gleam in his eyes said otherwise.
Gay then or not Dave had visited one of Bangkok’s gay gogo bars with me decades before. Back then the shows were less in your face. Nudity was more of a promise than the rule, engorged cocks on the stage were seldom seen. For a straight guy, or a gay guy who still is trying to convince himself he’s straight, compared to the bars featuring women life in those with hunks on stage was quite tame. And easy for a straight or maybe not straight man to handle. The bar’s stable was mixed, although leaning heavier toward twinks, and as long as said straight or maybe not straight man kept his eyes away from the television screening gay porn an accidental boner was easy to avoid. Walking into Bangkok’s macho stud fueled Tawan bar filled with prime beef in shorts cut so high you could see the lower hemis of their ass cheeks while a pair of musclemen compared erections on stage, not so much. Dave, like many before him, had sworn gym bunnies don’t do a thing for him. That he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage while we made our way to our seats said otherwise. And Noom giggled.
Once ensconced at a stage-side table, Noom casually draped his arm around Dave’s shoulder. And then just as casually began rubbing his nipple. Dave swears playing with his nipples does nothing for him. He thinks his nipples are still straight. His dick, however, isn’t. And his dick likes having his nipples fondled. Figuring what’s good for a goose is good for a gander with muscles, Noom waved one of the bar boys he knows over to tweak some tit too. Dave giggled. Then turned red when the bar boy reached down to see if his hard work was having an impact. ‘Cuz it was. Within minutes Dave’s crotch had become so moist it could qualify for federal wetlands protection. And if his nipples were any indication, his cock must have been as hard as a rock. Just to be sure, Noom began running his hand along its length through Dave’s jeans. And then called another bar boy over to join in on the fun.
Unless you are visiting one of the sleaze bars down the street, or are one of the bar’s paid performers, in Bangkok actually having sex while sitting in the bar is a no-no. Like Las Vegas’ claim to shame, in a Bangkok gogo bar what happens in your pants stays in your pants. No matter how much it would like to not be confined by denim. From the size of the obvious bulge in Dave’s I thought we may have to stop back at the night market to buy him a new pair. And with three muscular bar boys now working on that eventuality since Noom had abandoned his post at Dave side in deference to those who might make a few baht out of the proceedings, those lacy pink underpants started looking like a possibility too. Dave, caught up in the moment he’d never envisioned, studiously ignored both Noom and me. Or maybe it was just that his eyes were studiously not ignoring the well-defined crotch a mere few inches in front of them. His job done – and quite well I must say – Noom leaned back into my arms with a self-satisfied sigh escaping through his smile, “He gay.”
All good things must come to pass, and that passing comes quickly when no baht is exchanging hands and a bar boy’s turn on stage is calling. The bevy of bodacious bodies that had been surrounding Dave dwindled to one, the one Dave had finally, tentatively, attempted to return the favor to after a quick glance in my direction. Quick because he’d been checking out the nearly naked and occasionally exposed studs on stage much as had those hungry eyeballs on Soi 4 been checking him out earlier in the evening. And despite how familiar he’d become with having sex with another man, I considered that night Dave’s first real experience in being a gay man. In public no less. And one that, all things considered – all things being Noom at my side – didn’t need to end.
“You know you can off him.”
“Uh, no dude. Really, that’s okay.”
“Seriously, you’re in Bangkok. It’s cool.”
Dave was tempted. He thought about it. Long enough for Noom to signal the captain to strike the deal. Which was a bit too quick for Dave. “No. Really. I’m good,” he sighed taking a last look at what had been captivating his attention. “But can we come back here again tomorrow night?”
Walking back to our hotel that night Dave was on the quiet side, not even taking the numerous opportunities of pointing out Noom’s potential customers to him. And Noom too set aside his delight in pointing out the fem boys he thought would be perfect for Dave. Not that I though either had suddenly reached a level of maturity neither had exhibited so far. And Noom proved my point. When we hopped into bed, having already taken that liberty once that evening, he reached down and got Dave hard. Again. And then pulling back the covers to show me what he’d worked up, dissolved into a fit of laughter with his newest battle cry, “You gay!”
Our second night in town and Dave had done Bangkok as only a gay man can. Or maybe that was Bangkok had done Dave, working its magic on yet another farang. In either case, Noom was happy with the results. How often, and under what circumstances, he’d remind Dave of his new reality during the rest of the trip remained to be seen. But considering the giggles that accompanied Noom as he drifted off to sleep, the future few days didn’t bode well for Dave.
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24 Monday Nov 2014
Posted Monday Meat
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23 Sunday Nov 2014
Posted Selfies Sunday
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22 Saturday Nov 2014
Posted End of the Week
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A first-timer’s rub and tug experience is the story in this erotic fiction tale, My Massage in Thailand.
Utah is #1 when it comes to porn usage, Louisiana takes the top spot for gonorrhea, and if bestiality is your thing Washington is where you want to be. Find out what your state is best at being worse at in this United States of Shame chart.
You already know how your body is treated on those long flights to Thailand. Here’s what your luggage goes through at Suvarnabhumi.
This week’s NSFW Tumblr is An Asian Celebration. Because who doesn’t want to celebrate hot Asian guys?
The Royal Thai Embassy in Tokyo posted a guide to proper manners for Thai tourists visiting Japan. Which sounds like a boring story to link to, but as you start reading the list of suggestions you’ll probably giggle too considering why Thais need to be told to act differently than they do at home.
Olympic gold medalist extraordinaire Michael Phelps is used to setting world records, but may be the first Olympian to be known as a lover of ladyboys.
Just in case you needed something to get you in the spirit of decorating your Xmas tree: The 17 Most Mesmerizing Gay Porn GIFS Of Bouncing Balls.
Maybe I need to give buttermilk another try.
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21 Friday Nov 2014
Posted Smells Like Science
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Like Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster, bi guys are a quirk of nature that few have ever seen but many assume to exist. We almost had proof when Tom Daley kinda sorta came out, but quickly learned that by bi he meant bottoming for Dustin Lance Black. Bisexuality isn’t so much about a state of mind as it is a state of sexual development. ‘Cuz guys who claim to be bi today usually become tomorrow’s gay men. Except for the self identified straight ones who just had too much to drink. They become tomorrow’s fuck buddy.
It’s one of the benefits of being an out gay man. All the straight guys you know know just who to go to when curiosity gets the better of them. Then they often act like they no longer know you. Until the next time they decide they need a penis to play with. Some self-identified straight guys continue to straddle the line between gay and straight, even when their hottest sexual encounters are being straddled by another man. They claim to be bi because they don’t want to admit to themselves that they are gay. But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, and the penis always knows.
Dr Qazi Rahman, an assistant professor in Cognitive Biology at Queen Mary University in London knows too. He’s an expert in the study of gender, sexuality, and homosexuality. Note that he doesn’t study bisexuality. ‘Cuz he says, at least in men, there ain’t no such thing. Or if there is you are more likely to be struck by lightening and win the lottery than you are to ever actually meet one. Not that that stops some men from claiming they are. But Dr. Qazi says the problem with studies that report a statistical number of bisexual men is that they rely on self-reporting and self-identification. And as everyone knows, all men lie. Especially when it comes to dick.
Instead, Dr, Qazi says he has a better way. And it’s called a penile plethysmograph. Which is a mouthful. But it also provides a different level of insight because it’s looking at the involuntary physical response of a man’s genitals. Or in laymen’s terms, it’s a lie detector for penis.
The penile plethysmograph, or phallometry measures changes in the circumference of the penis. A stretchable band with mercury in it is fitted around the subject’s penis. The band is connected to a machine with a video screen and data recorder. Any changes in penis size, even those not felt by the subject, are recorded while the subject views sexually suggestive or pornographic pictures or movies. Computer software is used to develop graphs showing the degree of arousal to each stimulus. The machines, which cost about $8,000 were first developed in Czechoslovakia to prevent draft dodgers from claiming they were gay just to avoid military duty. Dr. Qazi uses his to measure blood flow to the penis, which is a strong indicator of sexual attraction and arousal.
In his studies, Dr. Qazi chose to show participants film clips of two lesbians doing disgusting things to each other, and clips of hot,sweaty man on man action. Not just because he assumed gay participants would vomit if show straight sex scenes, but because he believed that straight men would respond to naked female breasts no matter what they were doing and gay men would get hard when a pair of penises appeared while the breeders among them would not. And, for the most part that’s what happened.
“In physical response studies we find that self-identified straight men and self-identified gay men respond as you would expect,” says Qazi. “Straight men are more aroused by watching footage of same-sex activity between women; gay men are more aroused by watching footage of same-sex activity between men.”
But when it comes to the self-deluded, the responses are not what they’d hoped for. Dr Qazi says in his studies 95% of self-identified bisexual men are only aroused by the footage of same-sex activity between men, the remaining 5% are only aroused by the footage of same-sex activity between women.” Ergo, the majority of guys claiming to be bi only get aroused by gay sex while a small minority obviously claim to be bi ‘cuz they think it will help them more easily score some pussy.
Dr. Qazi says his research shows that male sexuality appears to be category specific. “The bottom line is that while social effects will play a part in the way that sexual attraction is expressed, sexual orientation is essentially innate,” he claims. As for the existence of truly bisexual men, Qazi says, “Bisexual males may exist but it’s likely that the numbers may be so low that it’s almost impossible to identify them through the available research. However the prevailing scientific view is that bisexuality in males doesn’t physiologically exist.”
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