Don’t you just love the livery of the new Air Force 1 747? Boeing is so goddamn pathetic now they can’t deliver new presidential jets in years upon years upon years. This shit goes back to Trump’s first term over six years ago, and the planes still haven’t been delivered. Meanwhile, Qatar—an Arab nation—gifted President Trump a new 747, and in however many months it took, they reconfigured it enough to serve as the new Air Force 1 because Boeing can’t fucking do it.

Boeing isn’t a car company, but they’re in very big turmoil for years and years because they hired a bunch of fucking chicks and minorities. That’s why Boeing is fucked—because of hiring chicks and minorities.

In other news, 4 NYT “reporters,” put out a story of how you can shoot it down and are now under federal criminal investigation, and all fucking lefties are crying. I love it when lefties get kicked in the teeth.

… In still other good news, both Republican US Senator shitstains Mitch McConnell and Lindsey Graham are gone. I loathed them both. Good fucking riddance, and I don’t give a fuck about their cock-sucking “loved ones.” So.

On to my own stuff and what I’m doing daily…

… It’s a series of five or so very short videos where I show what I’m doing here in Thailand. I’m having a great time, basically building stuff.

I get up early. I’m on a big circadian rhythm thing where I’m like the villagers. I go to sleep when the sun goes down and I get up before it comes back up. I’m usually out of bed by four in the morning and usually back in it by eight or nine. That’s how it goes every day.

In these clips I’m just showing the progress on my man cave, which is my own room. My girlfriend insisted on it after I’ve done so much to build out this half-acre of property and help her. So now it’s my turn and I’m on it with gusto, as you’ll see if you’re interested. They’re all short.

I aim to show people what you can do if you can swing a Western-style income, American or European, while working anywhere online via telephone, video, and whatnot. This is simply what I’ve done. I don’t even have to mess with the phone or video conferences. Everything I do is pretty much online, and my income is a king’s ransom here in Thailand. I can build for three thousand dollars what it takes an American fifty thousand to do back in the States. It’s called geoarbitrage.

This next one requires a bit of an introduction. It was last Sunday—just two days ago. There’s this German guy named Sven. About fifteen years ago he met and married a Thai woman from around here, a longtime childhood friend of my gal. She already had two daughters, both Thai. Sven got all the paperwork sorted, hauled them off to Germany, and that’s where the girls grew up. They speak Thai and German, maybe a little English, but mostly it’s Thai and German. Interesting pair. Nice girls.

He threw a party on a barge out on the reservoir. You know the setup—big party barges, lots of food, cases of booze, the usual Thai free-for-all. Good time.

I caused a bit of an altercation. We were about five hundred meters off shore when a bunch of the younger kids started strapping on life vests and jumping in. Maybe a dozen of them. It disgusted me on a visceral level. Thailand has a serious problem with children drowning in flash floods because they never learn to swim. The culture is instinctively terrified of the water. Almost nobody here knows how to swim, and when they do go in, it’s with life vests and floaties.

I’m the opposite. My mother tossed me into Lake Tahoe when I was five months old—floating before I could walk. I’ve been a fish my entire life and have never once worn a life vest. So watching this nonsense, I finally had enough. I set my drink down, peeled off my shirt, climbed up on the railing, and jumped straight in.

People lost their fucking minds. Swimming without a vest? Unthinkable. I shouted at them to fuck off. I don’t care if you’re afraid of the water, can’t swim, or whatever else your problem is. I’m going for a swim. Fuck off.

Afterwards, lots of folks, including elderly Thai ladies, gave me a veiled thumbs up. Women of all stripes and colors like scofflaws a lot more than they like pussy boys.

This next one came as a surprise even to me. I’m plenty familiar with the big home stores back in the USA—Home Depot, Lowe’s, and the like—but it’s remarkable how many of them there are in Thailand. Take whatever number you’re picturing for Home Depots and Lowe’s combined and multiply it. They’re everywhere, and the Thai versions are very good, stocked with far more than just building supplies. Electronics, tools, appliances—you name it.

One in particular sits about 20 kilometers from where I live. It’s called Global House, and man, is it ever something. The retail floor is only about a third of the total building. The other two-thirds is straight warehouse, packed to the rafters with every conceivable building material you can imagine. What I show toward the end of the video is only half of that warehouse space. It’s enormous.

Pull your pickup right inside, Thai men load whatever you bought, produce tiedowns, and secure the load themselves like professionals. You don’t have to lift a finger. This operation is superior to both Home Depot and Lowe’s back home, and I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. You’d be shocked at what’s available here if you came and saw it for yourself.

The reason is simple. Thais are do-it-yourselfers by nature. In the villages it’s not just that every man swings a hammer—there’s usually a real craftsman, a master of all trades, living right on your street. You can put a crew together in an afternoon. The stores stock everything accordingly, for actual DIYers and for the neighborhood tradesmen who get the real work done.

This final video turned out differently than I intended. I was just going to show you what was happening on the job, but in the heat of it I realized why construction in the West—meaning America and Western Europe—is so completely fucked up and so goddamn expensive.

I grew up in and around the trades. My father was a contractor. Relatives were contractors. I spent a lot of time on job sites as a kid and learned to respect the real skills that went into the work. Now I’m older, living in Thailand, and it all comes rushing back. This is how it ought to be. Every man a master of multiple trades. That’s how it works in the villages here. A few doors down on any rural street you’ll find guys who do concrete, block work, mortar, plumbing, electrical, roofing, and tile setting. They do it all, and they do it well.

In America it’s the opposite. “I’m a plumber.” “I’m an electrician.” They say it with pride, like it’s some noble achievement. That’s what unionized, socialized specialization gets you: prices five to ten times higher than they need to be. Follow the money. At sixty-five I see it clearly. No American or European “craftsman”—so-called—can hold a candle to the crew working on my street right now. Watch the videos. Same three or four guys, every trade, all of it. Masters at the whole job.

That’s why they don’t build anything great in Europe anymore. The old buildings were done by real masters. Today it’s union rules, wage demands, the $1,000 per month Ford F-350 payment, and fuck everybody else who has to pay for it. Raise the prices, act disgusted when anyone objects, and pretend you’re worth it. Disgusting.

(The “age restriction” is fucking stupid, baseless, and with no merit. As my friend Dr. Mike Eades calls it, “the shitification of everything.”)

… If I could only be God for an hour….