About The British Guy

All About The British Guy

Photograph of The British Guy

Recent Photograph of The British Guy

Hi, Keith The British Guy here, thank you for visiting my website.

With having a wide range of interests and really enjoying thoroughly researching various products and services, I decided to create this website solely for the purpose of sharing my gleaned information.

Consequently, I take great pride in providing readers and visitors to this site a complete, honest and unbiased review of these findings.

Being fortunate to have been borne and raised on a farm in England and then immigrating to the United States of American, it was there where I was referred to as The British Guy and the nickname stuck.

Now residing in beautiful sunny Thailand where the Thai people refer to me as the Farang who is always smiling. Farang is not a derogative word; it is a generic Thai word for someone of European decent.

Thailand is affectionately known as the Land of Smiles because the Thai people are very friendly, quick to smile and are wonderful people.

The British Guy’s Thoughts

The one thing that life has taught me is the importance of doing something that you really enjoy, as long as it is legal and ethical. Then you will never have to work a day in your life. Work is something that you do each day for money and not being really happy in what you are doing.

This brings me to the real motivation for creating this website. I really enjoy building these webpages and trying to figure out the best way to give you the user the best possible experience while you are here. Also, wishing to share, with people of similar mind, my broad range of interests.

The British Guy’s Amusing Experiences

Being brought up on a farm back in England was a wonderful experience. I remember going to bed each night being very excited about getting up the following morning because everyday was a new experience, there was always something different happening each day.

My Friend Basil the Boar

Old photograph of a pig on my father's farm

A very old photograph of a pig on my father’s farm

Just to the side of our house on the farm was a six-acre field where my father kept some sows and a boar. When I was about eight or nine years old one of my favorite pastimes was riding a particularly docile sow around the field.

One beautiful sunny day I was partaking in my usual pleasant pastime when I decided to ride the boar thinking that I would get a more stimulating ride and much to my surprise the boar did not seem to object.

After a while I got bored and decided to head off home. So I climbed leisurely of the boar and started to walk away, at which point he swung round and sunk his teeth into my backside!!!

I took off like a rocket, not even daring to look back to see if he was chasing me, I did not want to waste anytime getting out of that field. I then headed straight for the bathroom in the house so I could inspect the collateral damage in private.

When I dropped my pants there where four huge slightly bleeding teeth marks in my little butt. Needless to say that I did not ever ride any pigs again.

It so happened about two years latter I was in high spirits as usual, heading for the woods going on yet another exploring adventure, that I decided to take a short cut through the 6-acre pig field. Up to this point I do not recollect having gone into this field or even near to the pigs since my mishap with the boar.

The vision of those four huge bleeding teeth marks in my butt were burnt into my mind, I can still see them now even after all these years.

As I was passing through the field in my path was the boar, his name was Basil. He was the nicest, good-tempered boar that you could ever wish to meet and I assumed that pigs do not have good memories. So I was sure that he would not remember our little misunderstanding, especially after two years.

So without hesitation or concern I walk up to Basil and started to say, “How is …”. The next thing I remember was lying flat-out on my back, staring up at this massive pig with huge tusks staring down at me. I was in total shock, I could not move. I can remember thinking that this is it; it’s all over for me now!!!

After a few moments he flicked his head as much as to say, “Do not ever mess with me again” and walked away.

Another one of those moments that is clearly etched into my mind, this giant pig with huge tusks staring down at me.

I was extremely lucky because fortunately I was wearing jeans and overalls so when Basil swung round on me and hooked one of his tusks into my leg, he did not get through to my flesh. If he had done so he could have done some real serious damage to my leg.

The conclusion that I came to after this incident was, not to underestimate a pig’s memory especially a boar’s. From that day forward, until Basil had passed on, I did NOT ever venture into that field again, even with my high spirit of adventure and recklessness. So at my tender age I realized that it was unwise to tempt providence again, I got the message loud and clear, I might not be so lucky next time.

Intelligent Mouse

On my father’s farm was a loft where we stored hay. I used to enjoy creeping into the loft and startling all the mice that went there to feed. There were so many mice that they would just scatter in all directions including straight at me.

All I had to do to catch one was to wait and scoop one up as it ran between my legs. One day I caught one and was holding it by its tail, inspecting it as usual when to my complete amazement it curled up grabbed its own tail and then proceeded slowly to climb up it.

I had caught many mice but I had never seen one do this before. I was completely fascinated and mesmerized by it because I did not have a clue why it was doing this. The mouse’s intentions became very clear when it reached and sunk its teeth into my thumb.

Quite naturally I instantly let it go. It was round about this time that my father decide to get some cats to deal with all of the mice because we were getting over run with them.

The Rabbit That Got Away

An old photograph of The British Guy when he was young, with his dog

A very old photograph of The British Guy when he was young, with his faithful dog

When I was a little older I was given my own puppy, he was supposed to be a Jack Russell Terrier. It soon became clear that this was no Jack Russell, because he grew up to be one big fine dog. However he must have had some Jack Russell in him because he really loved to catch rabbits.

As time went by we became inseparable and life was so much more fun having a buddy to share it with. One of our favorite pastimes was catching rabbits. One day we chased a rabbit down one of their many holes, unfortunately for this rabbit it when down a short burrow with no exit.

My buddy sprang into action frantically scratching away at the hole and as he dug nearer to the rabbit he became more frantic. Soon he started to unearth the rabbit; at this point I stopped him because I did not want him to kill it.

I gently pulled the rabbit out of the short burrow. I was so excited at actually having caught a live rabbit that that I badly wanted to go to the toilet and there was noway that I could wait until I got back home.

So I am holding the rabbit in my left hand by its hind legs and proceeded to unbuckle my belt on my trousers with my right hand so that I could take my pants down to take care of Mother Nature. I am sure at this point the rabbit must have sensed an opportunity to escape because he gave a quick jerk of his body and he was gone.

I was so upset at having lost the rabbit that I no longer wanted to go to the toilet. I am sure to this day that my dog sensed my bitter disappointment because he then started to dig at another burrow in an attempt to cheer me up, but it was clear that there was no rabbit down there.

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