Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 348
Greetings and salutations Stickmanbangkok. com fans, Dana fans, and ceiling fans (Fa and I are making that straw-for-two drink that you can get in Chinese restaurants). Anyway, today a feature on Caveman. It's a great Internet moniker and he is a great guy. He's smart, he's funny, he's politically open minded, socially stable, and rant free. All in all, the kind of guy you'd welcome as a neighbor and you'd allow to babysit your children. He'd have them doing jumping jacks, and squat thrusts, and disassembling and reassembling their toys to a stopwatch. I'll say it for everyone: if I got a second chance I'd like to come back again as Caveman. But I guess right now that is just a dream. Anyway, everybody loves him. But I have gotten some emails from the international world of Stickmanbangkok. com wondering about his bike and his lifestyle. No problem dudes and dudettes. I have the information and I am happy to provide it in this article titled:
Ah, yes: Caveman and his motorcycle talk. You'll notice that we never see a picture of his bike in his lengthy submissions that detail his Chiang Mai adventures. Well, I have seen his bike and I have pictures. A Dana Enterprises investigative reporter sent the pics to me and I saw Caveman once in Chiang Mai taking a picture of a road. Nobody takes pictures of a road like this guy. Anyway, he is currently riding a tricked out Phantom motorcycle. I can't quite tell if it is the 200cc model but it is a monster and I understand that he had to take a performance driving and safety course before he could get licensed. It has a small car snow tire on the back, extra large pillion seat with extended luggage rack, and ape hanger bars made from aluminum tubes out of outdoor furniture. The seat is a child's bicycle banana seat from the southern California 60's, and his tool pouch that hangs in front is a Batman lunchbox. His side bags are flushed out medical waste pouches he found on sale in the Night Market, his rear view mirrors are from a Vespa motor scooter and tied on with vines from bamboo scaffolding at a construction site. Caveman is no fool with money.
He bought a three pound bag of red, white, and blue sequins at a bead shop for lesbians and then threw them at the bike after it had been sprayed with clear lacquer cut with acetone. The acetone rotted out the spray hose and it's side burst during the spraying. Caveman got it right in his eyes but he is tough. Ex-military tough. And he's also a patriot. Patriot tough. But then you knew that from the red, white, and blue sequins.
Anything else? Well, that's about it except for the sidecar. It is an old Korski little red wagon with built up sides and shock absorbers made from used condoms. Caveman condoms. He believes in condoms. And in saving money. Anyway, he uses the sidecar to store a generator, pieces of junkyard scrap metal, and a welding kit in case the motorcycle needs repairs halfway up Doi Suthep mountain. He has a decal on his welding helmet that says Monks Do It With Incense. He says the monks love that decal and also the painting of a naked woman riding an elephant that is on his gas tank. Gee what a hip guy. No wonder everybody loves him.
How can you tell when he is coming? Well, he is wearing a woven bamboo mahout's hat that has been sprayed to look like an American flag, his driving gloves are pink dishwashing gloves, and his sidecar looks as if it is growing an enormous tumor. Why does his sidecar look as if it is growing an enormous tumor? Because Mr. Expat Motorcycle Man of Chiang Mai spends most of his time driving around the wilds of Chiang Mai buying fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, berries, and grains. If he had the brains of a kumquat he'd be buying chocolate shakes and cheeseburgers but this carrot crunching nutter has just learned how to spell vegan so he drives around buying produce and other non-meat and non-dairy items from Thai rustics who probably think Vegan was a disciple of Jesus Christ. Sometimes he'll work a discount on rural melons and various mysterious tubers by getting his welding kit out and fixing stuff. You can always tell where Caveman has been . Spent welding rods have been saved and stuck in front yard Buddhist shrines. At any rate, if you see him coming; throw a mango at him. He loves that. It's vegan love and he won't turn it down.
Caveman: patriot, vegan, motorcycle alpha male. Skinny middle-aged man triceps hanging from child-sized ape hanger bars, Batman lunchbox for cellphone and Leatherman tool; and vegan fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, berries, and grains from the fields and farms and paddies of the Kingdom piled in his sidecar. Caveman I salute you. You know who you are and you know what you are doing.
Caveman is respected by the Thais of Chiang Mai. The smarter ones have figured out that this guy Vegan that the farang is always going on about was a disciple of Jesus and knew Buddha in India a long time ago. I mentioned that. Anyway, they take his welding helmet decal–Monks Do It With Incense–as a farang sign of respect for Buddha. Sometimes when the Caveman is not looking they slip an extra banana or an extra melon into his sequined sidecar. Respect is contagious and the fat young ladies of rustic Thai mothers and fathers find him sexy. Hence the need for the extra large pillion seat. In a land of physical moderation and slim Thai female figures, Caveman's motorcycle needs a small car snow tire on the rear. Personally, I'm not man enough for his girlfriends. I'd have to have helpers. And maybe a block-and-tackle hanging from an eyebolt in the ceiling over the bed. Just thinkin'.
Caveman is different. He is a vegan in a culture that is just learning about the delights of western cuisine. Veganism? Fruits and vegetables and nuts and seeds and berries and grains. No meat and no dairy. Easy to remember. Just think of how your pigs and chickens eat. Hey, what could be greater than eating like a chicken? Who needs evolution? Let's all walk around with bobbing heads and peck at stuff on the ground. Or something. At a time like this it is helpful to remember the philosophy of Danaism. At Dana Fan Club meetings, services of the Church of Dana, the two Dana bars, office parties at Dana Enterprises on South Pattaya Road, and private Danaism events we serve chocolate shakes and cheeseburgers. Health conscious Danaites simply limit the number of chocolate shakes and cheeseburgers that they eat. Just sayin'.
Bacon cheeseburgers with double extra cheese, fryolater dipped buns, and chemically laced tomato and lettuce and onions. Beef from steroid happy cattle that were pumping iron in Argentina before being rounded up, stunned, eviscerated, and slaughtered. Man food. Vegans in Thailand? What's next? An oxymoron festival in Surin? Whores with hearts? Military intelligence? Men with feelings? Condoms without holes? Some things just do not pass the 'makes sense' test. Some things just don't seem right. Some things offend. Some things seem like an Essan pickup truck full of ten day old fish paste. You can't put a happy face on that. It just stinks. Vegans in Thailand driving around on motorcycles that look like Pee Wee Herman's bicycle? Give me a giant break. Stop telling me to hold in the farts.
Real men in Thailand need a monger diet. Fileted steak sandwiches stuffed with salty butter, lathered in bug choked grease, and covered with pieces of melted chocolate. Desert? Hell yes we are going to have desert. Cheese and chocolate cannolis wrapped in super slim Canadian bacon and dipped in lard. Man food. Monger food. We are not buying crapadoo produce from Thais and we aren't fixing stuff. The kind of nutrition you need to sustain a long term relationship of commitment and loyalty and love. I once spent three days with a Thai lady. I mean 24 hour days. Admittedly the last day was a screamer and a headbanger but I did the time. Do you think you are going to have that kind of stamina on a Caveman diet of rice balls and watermelon seed extract?
Frankly, if the food I'm putting into my mouth isn't going to be a guaranteed contributor to clogged arteries, cancer, heart disease, diabetes, and howitzer farts I don't see the point in eating it. I'm a monger. I need dietary power and I am not going to get that from celery and lemon rind muffins. Do you think super stud breeder rabbits are chowing down exclusively on carrots? Forget about it. These rabbit mongers are swallowing burgers, fries, and cokes faster than a Soi 6 pro can satisfy a German with a wallet full of 1000 baht bills. I've met some of these super stud breeder rabbits and believe me they aren't bangin' with a celery stick in their mouth.
Hey vegans, I'd love to hear about your ballet tickets and your mother's photo album full of butterfly pictures, but right now I'm too busy eating this Caesar salad. Caesar salad? That's right baby, Caeser salad monger style. Man food. I substituted slabs of roast beef and slabs of cheese for the greens, beer soaked beef jerky chunks for the croutons, and pickled pig's feet rendering for the dressing. Salads? Love them. Monger style.
And what did the waiter bring me and my boardwalk companion as appetisers? You guessed it. Bowls full of bacon bits, whale tongue bread sticks, and little butter sculptures carved to look like baby seals. Fa had a great time and so did I. Whores know good food and respect men who know good food. Desert? Not for me. I had too many little baby seal butter sculptures before the main course. You eat too many of those baby seal butter sculptures and you start to feel as if you have seal fur stuck between your teeth. Maybe that is just me. Anyway, no desert for me but Fa ate a paper bag full of fried grasshopper, crickets, and worms. Monger desert Essan style. She would bring the legs and the wings to the front of her lips and spit them across the table into my water glass. What a great woman. Class all the way and rock hard hooters. I love this country.
Note: Chiang Mai Kelly, Pattaya Gary, Fa, and myself are currently negotiating for space to open Pattaya's first all monger menu restaurant. We need a name for the restaurant. If you have any ideas send them in. This will be a family fare eating establishment for mongers and their friends, families, and whores. Try to be thoughtful. We have already rejected Screw The Whales, Baby Seal Steakhouse, and Death To Vegans. You get the idea.
So anyway, what is Caveman and his motorcycle good for in Thailand? Pizza delivery. That's right. His side car could house the oven and he could deliver meat and fish and cheese and pepperoni pizzas all over Chiang Mai. Just thinkin'. Carrot crunching nutter by day, monger diet delivery person by night. Hey, it's not any weirder than military intelligence. I think this idea has Ying and Yang up the kazoo. How do I think of these ideas? Genius. But I almost digress.
Carrot crunching nutters? These are massage people. Farangs who get massages, pay for massages, and talk about it. Farang expats teetering on the rim of their own personal black hole of pride deficit. Example? I whack off a lot, but I don't talk about it. Nuff said. We, here at Dana Enterprises, try to limit contact. I think we can all agree on this. When Caveman first came to Thailand he was always coming to the office of Dana Enterprises on South Road with faux lemon meringue pie made from tapioca roots and bamboo shoots, or non-alcoholic beer made from soi dog piss and soybean puree, or snack food items made without sugar or salt or fat or food coloring or chemicals. Caveman's idea of chips and dip for watching football was diced desiccated prunes and some kind of Essan nut mash. I didn't really care for this but who is going to argue with a guy who wears hemp underwear. Not me, that's for sure.
Anyway, the office girls Ting and Ming and Sing and Booger used to give him the cold shoulder and Rufus the office dog would bark at him. In fact, Rufus refused to even hump his leg. Maybe that is why he moved to Chiang Mai. No office dogs to bark at him, they have all been backyard barbecued; and the fat girls love him. His move could also have had something to do with a Pattaya Gary experience. He and Gary met at Swenson's ice cream parlor which to a vegan is a den of sin. Caveman was doing ok with mental stability until Gary ordered the house specialty which was a bowl of fish eggs and chunks of steak covered with ice cream and small pieces of colored sugar. Eyes bulging with the zealots focus he started in on how eating meat was unhealthy and not something a higher form of homo sapien would do. Gary listened attentively and then said: Does that mean I can't eat pussy? Caveman left for Chiang Mai that night.
Anyway and to conclude: we have pictures of Caveman's bike here at the offices of Dana Enterprises on South Road in Pattaya. We may publish them as soon as we can figure out how to weasel around the standard ethical, legal, and moral issues. Until then, if you are a member of the Dana Fan Club, the Church of Dana, an investor in either of the Dana bars, or a follower of Danaism; come on by and we will show them to you. Someday maybe all of this Caveman stuff will make sense. Until then, if you hear him coming, throw a watermelon at him. He loves that.