A bargirl was telling a customer about her great excitement and fear about flying to Germany to see her boyfriend – her first flight and indeed her first trip outside Thailand. Take-off was only a week away and she was understandably nervous.

At no stage was she aware that I was eavesdropping on her conversation, so she was impressed the next evening when I studied her outstretched palm with a furrowed brow and predicted that she would soon be making a momentous journey to Deutschland to see her teerak.

“How you know?” she asked.

“I am the number one farang mor doo in Thailand,” I boasted. “I can see the future.”

Intrigued, she held out her hand again and demanded to hear more details about her trip and her life. Bloated by this recognition of my talents, I crossed the line and said something that I regret to this day.

“I see a problem. The big bird cannot see through the fog near the Alps. It crashes into the mountains. Everyone on the aircraft is killed. Very sad.”

She screamed and ran out of the bar in tears. Although I went back to the bar several times over the next week to try to explain that sometimes my predictions were wrong, she was nowhere to be seen. I suspect she never took that flight to Germany. Perhaps my tasteless joke killed a fine romance – or saved Hans of Hamburg a lot of money.

Since that day, I have read thousands of girls’ palms across Asia. While I have never reached the depths of cruelty of that first reading, it is fair to say that my predictions have been on the pessimistic side. Subjects can expect to have the odd motorbike accident or to be trapped in a loveless marriage with a penniless Cambodian rat-trapper before seeing out their lives in poverty while working 15-hour days in a fish market.

It is not difficult to establish credibility as a fortune teller. If you tell your subject that she once had a Thai boyfriend, she will look at you as though you have made a revelation of which Nostradamus would have been proud. In the superstitious Philippines, I once had scores of eager subjects queuing down the street outside a bar after I told the mamasan that she had four children – not so startling a guess in a Catholic country. “Where did you get this power?” the mamasan asked as she bought me a drink. “I studied under a master at a temple in Bangkok,” I replied with a straight face.

If things go wrong, as when I told a Filipina cherry girl that she already had two children, hold your nerve. “Ah, sorry. I meant to say that you will have two children with a Korean,” I informed her. She grimaced. In Angeles City, Koreans are about as popular as a flatulence sufferer in an elevator.

My research has provided me with some interesting insights into the psyche of the Thai bargirl.

First and least surprising is that they are obsessed with money. An assurance that they will always have enough folding stuff matters more to most than a happy marriage or a long life.

Second, most don’t want to marry anyone from Laos, Cambodia, Burma, Malaysia, Vietnam, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, India, Pakistan or any African nation. An even greater number don’t want to marry Thai men, who seem to have less appeal as a potential mate than a one-legged unemployed goat herder from the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Happily, I can report that ageing, balding, beer-bellied, unwashed, uneducated farang fashion disasters represent the ultimate trophy husband for the lovelorn bargirl, who must feel as though she is shooting fish in a barrel as she walks around Bangkok, Pattaya, Phuket and Samui.

As a Brit who fulfils most of the above criteria, I am constantly reassured to be told that the British and Americans are the most desirable partners. While Europeans are generally popular, there is some bias against the French, Italians and Germans for their alleged parsimony. “Keeneeow” is a word often associated with the latter three nationalities.

“England man very good heart,” I am repeatedly told as I tell Noi, Nud and Ning that this will be the year that they hook up with a violent bricklayer from Camden Town. With scant regard for world economics and the plunging pound, which should soon reach parity with the Zimbabwe dollar, they generally add that “England man very big money”.

If I predict a marriage to a less desirable nationality, I always soften the blow by adding that the husband will die within two or three years, leaving the girl to inherit enough money to live well for the rest of her life. They always beam with delight at news of their beloved’s premature death.

Oddly, Thai women generally do not want to live long lives. Perhaps it is a Buddhist thing or not wanting to be a burden, but many express a desire to kick the bucket nearer 50 than 90. This has led me revise down my predictions of life expectancy, though generally I give them a few more years than the Germany-bound air traveller.

My special gift has helped me to get laid on occasions. If I am reading the palm of someone who rocks my boat, I often describe myself and predict that the subject will be sleeping at that person’s place that evening in return for two of the king’s brown notes in the morning.

No Thai girl can say no to a mor doo.

They say the true test of anything is to be able to repeat the test with the same results.  My experiments in the bowels of Bangkok’s nether regions would not be complete until after I had a repeat performance.  So, bearing all this in mind, I spent an afternoon resting up at my hotel, then dosed up on the various types and quantities of fuel additives before I got dinner and hit the streets.

First stop, Cowboy.  I checked out some of the girls in the smaller clubs right before Soi Cowboy along Soi 23.  I started in Twins bar buying some drinks for Boom, a 20-something lady with a plain face but a nice body.  Liked to get frisky on the barstools.  I got a phone number and promised to call her before I headed out.

Next stop was the Ship Inn.  For some reason, I always had high expectations of this place when I was here long term back on ’04.  Not sure why.  It is a long and narrow bar, less than a single shophouse setup, so there is not much room for either coyote or gogo dancing.  It has a consistent customer following from what I saw.  The biggest assets to the place seems to be the English bitters on tap and a walk-through doorway to the fish-n-chips shop next door.  Didn’t try any bitters, as I was content to stick with the cheap Thai beer.

The place had one bar girl working there.  I would say she was an older lady, except that when I asked her what her age was she told me she was the same age that I was! I noticed that she bore a striking resemblance to Cuddy, the hospital administrator on the TV show House. Ironic, sense it was in the spirit of Doc House that I was conducting my little pill adventure in Bangkok.  Out of a sense of bemusement I bought Na a couple of drinks.  I got another phone number and promised to call her before I headed out.

Ambling down Cowboy I kept an eye out for Pam, the owner of the old Pam’s Club that used to sit on the Soi 23-side of Cowboy.  I had heard that she was running a food cart on the Soi.  I didn’t see her, and was sad that I never got a chance to meet her either last August or December.  I always enjoyed talking mongering and politics with her in her bar.  If any of you guys reading this submission ever see her, tell her M says hello.

I remembered from Wicked Traveler and some of the Weeklies about the level of clothing worn by the dancers in the different clubs.  I checked a couple of different places.  The dancers were OK, but the bars themselves were practically empty.  I went down the row of bars before sticking my head in Long Gun.  Seeing a lesbian show going on onstage, I promptly went inside and got a drink.

The girls were full nude and going at it with a lot more spirit than the other places I had looked at.  I also noticed that they were very young looking.  Maybe a little too young.  I was tempted to ask for their numbers after the show so that I could buy them drinks and possibly barfine one of them, but figured I’d err on the side of caution.  Finishing up my drink, I left for Sam’s Bar.

Sam, the owner of Sam’s 2000, was another Mamasan that I was friends with from my prior time in Bangkok.  When I asked if she was around, the girls working there told me she was over at her new sports bar on Sukhumvit.

My next stop was Afterskool.  There were a fair amount of girls dancing inside, but again, only a smattering of customers.  No one was in the bad boy corner.  I bought a Tequilla for Som, the Mamasan.  She was complaining about the lack of customers this high season.  I broached the delicate subject of maybe getting some better-looking girls to draw in the customers.  Som didn’t see the point, or maybe didn’t understand what I was saying.  In any event, after some more meaningless chitchat, I got a phone number from her and promised to call her before heading out.

It was after midnight by this time.  I walked back down to lower Sukhumvit to hit up some of the sidewalk bars.  My intention by then was to see if my chemical supplements would handle the streetwalkers of lower Sukhumvit.  I made it down to around Soi 5 and sat down at the first bar cart I came to.  After a beer to catch my breath, I got up and strolled along to check out the local talent.  Lots of ladyboys and older Thai ladies, with punters and a few Farang ladies thrown in.  Then I saw the Kenyans.

There were a handful of African ladies along the street, but two of them sitting by themselves stood out.  One of them was average looking (that is to say, better looking than the other Africans along the street), but her friend sitting next to her was striking.  She was picture perfect; a pretty young face and hot body in a sky blue summer dress.  I walked over and asked if I could sit down.  After getting them some drinks and introducing myself, I started chatting with Rachel.  I found out she was from Nairobi and that she was there on a “student visa.”  I asked her why she wanted to come to Thailand.  She said it was to work in the night entertainment venues, but that she was expected to service the Arab customers.  She said the Western customers were a lot better than the African or Arab punters she had been with, mainly because they weren’t as stingy.  I also found out they were big Tiger Woods fans, which gave me a chance to try out some Tiger jokes on them I read online.

After finishing our drinks, I took her back to a hotel on Soi 3.  400 baht for a room and a Durex.  Unfortunately, we had to wait for 10 minutes while the current occupants finished up their business and the room was cleaned up before we could use it.  The wait of shame.

Once inside, I was very pleased to discover she looked even better out of her dress than in it.  This is not a matter to be taken lightly, as I have seen some bar girls remove their clothes to reveal strange scars, birthmarks, and The Grand Canyon sliced into their torsos.  But in this case, Rachel revealed a youthful body with nice curves and a really great set of tits up top.

The sex was as great as she looked.  The experiment and the trip were a roaring success.  In my new sense of confidence I started banging her more aggressively.  I flipped her over on all fours.  It felt euphoric as I arched my back and flung my arms out to my sides.  The bedsprings were so soft that, by windmilling my arms in small circles, I could continue thrusting in and out of her from behind without having to work my hips or pelvic muscles.  My orgasm was rapidly building up.  At the last second, I shoved myself all the way in and yelled out in triumph at the top of my lungs…

“TIIIGER WOOOOOOOOOOODS!!!!!”

Rachel and I both fell over and collapsed in a fit of laughter.  After laying there for a few minutes, we cleaned up before hitting the road.  She went back up Sukhumvit to rejoin her friend, and I marched back to my room for some well-deserved shuteye.

What did I learn from this time out to the Land of Smiles?  In one sense, you could say that my body is getting old and decrepit.  Even with a regimen of proper diet, rest and exercise, I need medication to make my thingy work.  And most would not consider that a good thing.  I could say that I need to cut back on my drinking, but doing so would probably remove the one thing in my life here in the West that makes my life here in the West tolerable.  Not to mention that, with the recession hitting American businesses hard, my drinking is probably keeping a good portion of the beer and liquor industry afloat.

On the other hand, one could also say that chemicals are the past, present and future of medicine.  Philosophically, the Universe itself is nothing more than a result of the laws of nuclear physics, and we humans are random chemical accidents therein.  An erection is a movement of the male phallus caused by chemical messengers in the brain genetically reacting to an environmental stimulus.  Love itself is the same as consuming a couple of bars of Hershey’s Chocolate.  So for me (or anyone else for that matter) to judge someone harshly for the use of deliberate augmentation of a decaying process is to deny the reality of our existence in this chemical Universe.

Manny, ManU, ManCity, and Many fast cars kicking off the F1 season.

Here’s the schedule of events:

LIVE BOXING
08.00-MANNY PACQUIAO v JOSHUA CLOTTEY

————————————————

BARCLAYS PREMIERSHIP
19.30-MANCHESTER UNITED v FULHAM
23.00-SUNDERLAND v MAN CITY

————————————————

FORMULA 1 RACING
19.00 – F1 RACE LIVE BAHRAIN

We will be having the following specials:

- Happy Hour Pricing from 8:00am til Close
- One free Coffee/Tea with your Breakfast Food Order
- A Couple of Free Mango Nipple Shots during the F1 and ManU showings

So, if you’re Man enough, c’mon down to the Man-go this Sunday and watch sports like a Man. Okay, this could be the gayest announcement in the history of announcements. Damn marketing department poofs made me do it.

I had planned a multi-city trip for the first couple of weeks of December 2009.  I would leave on December 3rd for Korea, spend the better part of a week there to get caught up with old friends and ladies (in both senses of the terms), and then head to Thailand.  My trip to Korea went something like this.

I landed at Inchon Airport.  I spent 5 days in Seoul.  I left.

Next stop, Land of Smiles.  The one nice thing about Korea for me is that it gives me the chance to catch up on sleep and get used to the regional time zone.  This lets me hit the ground running by the time I get off the plane in Bangkok.  I bed down at Woraburi for the night.  I scout around the next day for a cheaper hotel (I end up checking in at The Swan) and then I start my pharmaceuticals shopping.

I walked up Sukhumvit to Little Korea by soi 12.  On the first floor of the plaza towards the back on the left side is a small Korean Store/Pharmacy.  I bought a 4-pack of Red Ginseng energy drink.  Ginseng acts as a nice pick-me-up, although I have to be careful with mixing alcohol with Ginseng as I start getting belligerent the more drunk I am.

Back down Sukhumvit, I stopped in at the Drug Store on the corner of Sukhumvit and Soi 4.  I picked up a bottle of Lecithin.  More horse capsules.  Great.

I noticed there was Apcalis available but I didn’t purchase.  At this stage, I wasn’t ready to admit that I needed ED medication.  That stuff was for old guys and for people with medical problems, not me I thought to myself.  Picked up some groceries at a Family Mart and headed to the Swan.

Back in my room, I commenced pill popping.  A Lecithin, a Red Ginseng, and a Gatorade chaser and I was ready to go on the prowl.

First stop, Big Mango.  Lunch and several Beer Laos later and I was starting to feel downright civilized.  Speaking of lunch, whenever the dish allows, I always sprinkle plenty of garlic powder for an extra energy and immune boost to my body.  By then, the Ginseng was kicking in.  I was feeling good and getting enthusiastic about my stay in Bangkok.  In other words, I was getting a boner.  Out came my little blue book.  I looked up the names of some ladies I had met at bars I had scouted out last August.  Ladies that I didn’t get a chance to plumb the depths of last time I was in town.  One name jumped out at me.  Wan.  She was a server girl at Spanky’s Bar in the Plaza.  I figured she wouldn’t be in until evening, so I wandered back to the Swanplex to see what there was to see.

On the way, I stopped at Finnegan’s Irish Pub.  A place to drink beer, not much to write home about it.  Upscale compared to what I was once common on Soi Nana.  Spent a little while flirting with the Mamasan behind the bar, then moved on.

Headed up to the row of bars along Soi 6.  Again, standard issue bar beers.  Sat and listened to a drunken German guy obsessing about President Bush.  “Bush ist scheiss, er ist scheiss,” he kept ranting.  I didn’t bother to inform him that, not only was Bush not president, but that the current president was non-Aryan.  Would’ve broke his little schnitzel-eating heart.  Looked around and checked out the local talent.  No one particularly jumped out at me.  So I headed on.

On the way up the Soi, one of the girls in front of Naree Massage gave a little shout and ran over to see me.  “You remember me”, she yelled excitedly.

Ordinarily, when someone yells words to that effect, it either means I owe money or I broke something.  Either way I usually take off running.  In this case, I was still buzzed on the pills, so my mind was actually working fast for a change.  I instantly remembered Kai, the hot Naree girl whom I visited last August.

“Of course I remember you.  I came inside you,” I replied.

“You want massage now?”

It was still only mid-afternoon, plenty of time until Nana Plaza opened.  “Sure,” I said.

The rooms in the new building at Naree Massage are big, clean, and really nice looking.  After a quick shower and a nice oil massage, we made love dirty cowgirl style.  I like the Naree girls for being very talented, sexy, and fun loving.

After settling up the tab, I headed back to my hotel for a power nap.  I slept for a few hours and woke up about 7 or so.  Some more Lecithin and I was ready to party.

I stopped in a couple of clubs first.  Hit Rainbow 1 but I didn’t see Gib from last August.  I had a few drinks at DC-10, drank a few more in the open air bars down in the pit, then stopped in the Hollywood Inn to say hello to the night managers I met last time.  I wanted to see if they still had the mechanical bull at Carnival, but there were so many ladyboys hassling people on the veranda that I figured it must be ladyboy country there now.

I headed down to Spanky’s.  Inside, the server girl I had my eye on was working.  I waved her over.  She remembered me from last time and was happy that I made it back to Bangkok.  I bought her some lady drinks while we caught up on old times.  Eventually, she agreed to be barfined by me.

We grabbed a taxi over to The Grace Hotel parking lot.  She led me to an after hours dance club.  The place was really crowded, but we both had a good time.  No one seemed to mind that I couldn’t dance for shit, drunk or sober.  I noticed that the waiters would keep a large tip for themselves every time they brought back my change for the drink money, though.

So, back to the room.  We showered up and engaged in a little oral fooling around on her boobs before we got down to business.  I was really wasted by this time, but I still had enough presence of mind to reach into the drawer in the nightstand to get out a condom.

A few words on the Chemwar gear.  I had seen the commercials on TV back in the World about the new Trojan Elite condoms.  The ad claimed that “it feels like you’re not wearing anything at all.”  So I got a box before heading out.  I hadn’t tried one on before I came over.  I wished now I had.

Christ, the damn thing was the size of a SAC pride hanger!  The hanger you park a B-52 heavy bomber in with room to spare!  Between the horse capsules, the pride hangers, the expanding US females, and my shrinking slick willy I was thinking, What? did the world get a case of thyroid dysfunction when I wasn’t looking?  Everything except me is getting bigger!

Picture of actual size of Trojan Elite™ Cannon Muzzle Cover

I put the condom on, sort of.  I understand now why Trojan could advertise that “it feels like you’re not wearing anything.”  The damn thing was so big my dick wasn’t touching the inside except the band at the base.  At least the thing stayed on.  I will not expect any Spanky’s serving girls running down the street at me waving a paternity test result sheet while yelling, “I remember you!”.  However, the experience wasn’t that great.  I never did manage to finish due to a combination of being distracted by the quart-sized freezer bag I had put on, and a bad case of whiskey dick.  We fell asleep for awhile, then I woke up long enough to finish myself off with her.  Some more sleep, and then I settled up with her and saw her off at first light.

That morning, I decided that pride was temporary but spent money never came back.  If I was going to engage in P4P, I would have to bite the bullet and take some ED medication.  Otherwise, my December trip would be a series of 2,000-baht hand jobs.

I went back to the corner drug store about mid-morning.  I picked up some Apcalis (like I probably should’ve from the first).  It was then that I remembered that old Mister John Rambo got busted coming into Oz from LoS for carrying over-the-counter steroid medication.  If part of my problem was performance anxiety, I could cure it with hormones that increased my testosterone level.  These would make me feel more self-assured and masculine, thus reducing the effect of PA on my ED.  Having watched several seasons of House on TV, I learned that the best way to diagnose an illness is to treat it.  If the treatment worked, you guessed right.  That was why the 7-figure actors who played docs with 6-figure salaries were paid so much.  And American television shows never lie!

I asked the lady if she carried any steroids or male growth hormones.  She took out a pack of disposable injectors.  Not eager to stick needles in myself, I asked if she had the same thing in pill form.  She pulled out a pack of gelcaps and asked an unheard of price for it.  However, one strip of pills from the pack was available for a much more reasonable price.  A 4-pack of Apcalis and a strip of Andro-Testocaps and I was off for a late breakfast.

Back at the hotel, I sat down at the makeup desk I was using as my lab bench and read the fine print on the various substances I had bought the last couple of days.

“WARNING: This substance is known to cause liver damage if taken orally,” was written on the disclaimer that came with the Andro-Testocaps.

“Helps regulates liver function,” stated the Lecithin article I downloaded off the Internet.

“Do not take more than one pill in any 36 hour period,” was written on the Apcalis box.

“A good source of Vitamins A, B, and C,” read the back of the box of vegetable juice from the 7-11.

“If condom breaks seek medical attention immediately, for if your dick can do that it is a freak of nature,” was written on the back of the Trojan box.

OK, that last one I made up.  But from what all these directions and disclaimers were indicating, I could offset the side effects of any one of these substances by taking a complimentary substance with a different beneficial effect.  Ha-ha!  Who needs a medical degree when you can read.  More pills and capsules, some Red Ginseng, a box of vegetable juice, and a beer chaser later and I was ready to try my luck at the Plaza again.

I got some dinner and headed off to Nana Plaza.  I watched the twilight sky grow dark from the Cathouse and people-watched the girls and punters go in and out of the plaza.  I gave the Apcalis plenty of time to do any weird effects on me.  I had heard that it would make you feel hot and make your face appear flushed.  At least, that’s what its big brother Cialis is supposed to do.  However, I didn’t feel much different than when I normally do after a couple of beers.  That is to say, I didn’t feel any different at all.  After happy hour ended at Cathouse, I left to give the pills a field test.

That night, I was sitting in the DC-10 bar buying lady drinks for Wat, the heavily tattooed daughter of Ning, the Mamasan.  I liked Wat.  She had a bubbly giggle and lots of bubble curves for me to hug up to while she drank.  Plus, her tattoos were cool to contemplate while you got wasted.  After she agreed to be barfined, we headed to the old short time hotel on the 3rd level of the plaza.  This time, thanks to the pills (or maybe the placebo effect of the pills), all systems were go.  I got out my Chemwar gear (Durex this time) and we started in to it.  Everything was going great.  I relaxed and took my time, feeling good.  No need to rush things.  After Wat squeaked her way through a few climaxes, it was my turn.

Foreplay.  Get her on all fours and maneuver to her 6 o’clock.  Achieved firing position.  Weapons system locked on.  Firing.  And…

BOOM!  Impact!

When she went in the bathroom to clean up, I sprawled out on the bed and said to myself, “mission accomplished.”

[Editor's Note: These three parts were sent in by Debt Star during the Hiatus. Apologies for not getting them out sooner. One note about pills in Thailand, you do need prescriptions for stuff so check the Thai Government and Embassy websites for more info. on the matter. Some helpful websites are here and here]

So there I was, a fun run to Bangkok four and a half years in the making.  It was August of 2009, and I had just arrived at Cobra Swamp IAP at 11:00 PM.  I had hopped a cab from the airport by 11:30, and was feeling the adrenaline rush hit me as my driver sped in on Soi 55 towards Sukhumvit Road.  The sight of the concrete columns supporting the BTS lit a restless fire in my blood that I hadn’t felt in half a decade!  I grabbed a room at the Sawasdi Hotel in Thong Lor (the 800 baht price they advertised was only for online reservations, so I only stayed there a couple of nights).  A quick shower and change of clothes, and I was on the prowl by 12:30.

Hit Queens Park Plaza and partied at Country Road there until the 2:00am curfew.  With nothing else to do, and knowing the jet lag would keep me wired all night, I headed down to Soi Cowboy to see if my old friend Pam (from Pam’s Bar fame) was still pushing a food cart around.  No joy, couldn’t find her.

I walked down to Country Road Cowboy.  The bar itself was closed, but I was surprised by the number of punters walking around after closing time.  This was the first I saw of the drink cart phenomenon of lower Suk on Cowboy.  The power of capitalism will not be denied I guess.

While wandering around, I found a lovely young lady with nerd glasses running a drink cart outside Country Road Bar.  I ordered several Jack Cokes while pumping her for info.  Her name was Gib, and she was a Rainbow 1 dancer who earned extra money after hours as the bartender of a Soi drink cart.  She helped me get caught up on current events, as I used my not considerable charm to flirt with her as she tried to work.  Eventually she had to close down business, and I took the opportunity to ask her to accompany me back to my room.  Once she had closed up business for the morning, we hopped a cab back to Thong Lor.

Back in my hotel, we got down to business.  At one point, she took off her nerd glasses and put them on the stand.  I promptly put them back on her face and had her keep them on the whole time we were doing it.  She squeaked out loud a couple of times from the climaxes.  Everything was going great, when it happened.

I experienced a catastrophic weapons malfunction.

I couldn’t tell if it was the long flight, the Jack Cokes, the years of Stateside bullshit I put up with, or the fact that I was an overweight 39-year-old codger.  All I knew was that, all of a sudden, I was “shooting pool with a laundry line.”, I was “throwing a hot dog down a hallway.”,  I was “attempting a Rommel with a Montgomery.”

“Why you so small?  You finish?” Gib asked in complete innocence.

“Uh… Yeah.  I mean, UHH!  YEAH BABY, YEAH,” I yelled in my best Austin Powers voice, unwilling to admit to her (or myself) what just happened.

After settling up the tab for the night and sending her on her way, I lay awake in bed and thought about what happened.  Visions of General Jack D. Ripper kept dancing in my head.  I’m sure it must be the long trip.  I’m just tired, that’s all I thought to myself.  I slept for a few hours, and got up to go to breakfast.

The breakfast would turn out to be very important.  I asked for the bacon and eggs, and got two strips of semi-raw pork and two eggs runny-side up.  I planned 3 weeks that August in Bangkok, and I spent a week’s worth of that time in bed or on the toilet from food poisoning.  I also experienced several more missile malfunctions from either the food, whiskey dick, or just plain physical condition.  I was thinking that someone should put a warning label on plane tickets to the LoS, “Punters with age or heart conditions should consult a physician before attempting to get laid here.”

I had varying degrees of success for the rest of my time there.  On the plane back to The World in late August, I vowed to myself that I would start an exercise program and eat healthier in order to improve my personal performance next time in the LoS.  I would clean up my act.  I would turn over a new leaf.

(NOTE – As I write this in January, I am in a kitchen surrounded by dozens of empty liquor bottles, bags of beer cans, and a trash can full of fast food wrappers, my ginormous gut hanging out over my belt, exhausted from a hectic week of joblessness.)

Fast forward to October.  As I surfed the ‘net at the local library, I read the weekly article Pmmp wrote back in October 2009 about the various pharmaceuticals available on the street in the LoS.  Several of them piqued my interest.  My parents would soon be taking a road trip down south to look for a new place to live away from their lazy, annoying offspring.  Since I had agreed to house-sit for them (in exchange for all the free food I could eat before my folks threw it in the garbage), I had an opportunity to bench test the claim about the Lecithin.  By late October, my folks were on the beach in the Carolinas, and I was on the couch in their living room with a porn movie on the satellite and my first experiment in my hand (the bottle of pills, that is).

I had picked up a bottle of the 1200mg Lecithin pills.  They were the size of horse pills.  I thought to myself, Christ, I’d have to be Marilyn Chambers to swallow one of these artillery shells! (I don’t swallow pills very well.)  Fortunately, the gelatin GNC uses to make its capsules out of is saliva soluble.  One pill and a few beers later, and I was ready to start.

“Amateur American GILFs and The Midgets Who Love Them,” or something like that, was playing on Pay Per View.  I commenced my missile maintenance bench test.

Hmm, guidance system?  Check.  Rocket motor?  Check.  Warhead?  Oh hell yeah!  CHECK!

Judging by the detonation that occurred, I had experienced what was known as an Expanding Rod Warhead.  This was an enhanced warhead fitted to the AIM-9D Sidewinder that was know to blast MiGs in half over Vietnam.  At least, it sure as hell felt like that!

OK.  We have a successful test firing.  Now, how was it for persistence?  I got another beer and sat back for another bench test.  10 minutes later and I had my answer.  All over my stomach!

Another beer and a couple of sandwiches later I was feeling ready for round three.  I didn’t bother, as I had all the results I needed from the experiment.  While I sat there, I thought about what happened and pondered my situation.  I still had some money left in the Credit Union, money that Uncle Sam hadn’t managed to get his hands on.  I wasn’t doing anything special this winter.  The weather in the LoS would be cooler, just the sort of thing that a fat geezer like me appreciated.  I had a better sense of which girls were where this time out.  I was also armed with more info about what chemicals were available over-the-counter.  Given all this, I came (no pun intended) to an important decision.

The next day I was on the Internet booking tickets to Thailand for December.

How? You need your own PayPal account, linked to your US bank, so you can add funds to your PayPal account. Do this first, as it takes 3-4 business days to move the money. Good thing, it is free! Any sane world traveler should have a PayPal, if it were only to buy goodies on Ebay.

As you want to be in control of the girlfriends PayPal, you start by creating a Hotmail account for her. Set up all the info correct for your girlfriend, just keep the user-id and password for yourself. Validate you can communicate with this account by sending email to it and then replying back.

Next, create a PayPal account for your girlfriend. Now it is important that you use the same address information as she has on her own Bank account. She has no Bank account? Take her to the closest Bank branch and open a savings account with ATM card. But again, keep the user-id and password to yourself, as you want to stay in control of this account.

Once created, add her Bank account to her PayPal account. There are 2 ways to validate the link between PayPal and the Bank account, and PayPal requires one. 1st, if your girlfriend has a valid Thai Credit Card (unlikely), you can guarantee the Bank account with it. More practical is to have PayPal validate the Bank account. PayPal does this by sending 2 small (less than 1 baht) deposits to her Bank account. You will need your girlfriend to get the transaction amounts. It can take up to 5 days for these deposits to arrive. Once you have the amounts, log on to her PayPal, validate her Bank account by entering the amounts.

Now you can add funds to your PayPal from your Bank, for free, takes 3-5 days. Then send money to your girlfriends PayPal account, in Thai Bath, for a
fee of 25 baht, it is immediate. Note, the first time you send money, you will have to accept it in her PayPal. Then withdraw funds from your girlfriends PayPal to her bank. If over 5000 baht, it is free, takes 3-4 days. What, you send her less than 5000baht at a time? You cheapo, you deserve to have to pay 50baht for this.

If your girlfriend is internet saffy (again unlikely), you can have her control her email and PayPal account. Saves you from having to keep track of things. Gives her the opportunity to screw the whole thing up….

Start saving money !

This is certainly welcome news. When I first came to Bangkok, Nana Disco was like being in heaven. Jam packed with freelancers staring you down like you were Brad Pitt, with some of them grabbing your ass as you walked by. Crazy wicked experience for the newbie.

Over the years though, their niche of staying open the latest (2-3am), was wiped away by the emerging After Hours scene. They also continued to charge a 400 baht entry, so they just died and eventually closed in July of 2009.

Well, welcome back Nana Liquid! May you recapture the spirit of Nana Disco back in the day.

If you need some funky music to listen to while you read this try to find these albums – Vol. I and Vol II. For alternative reading try the Onion.

When making this pseudo ranking I was think about the overall ability to have fun (p4p and not p4p), ease of use, and just all around vibe. For sure some of you might think I am partial to Thailand, maybe I am, but I think that even if I was not the context for how I look at the region might be the same. One of my parameters was that the experience can’t be based on secret or insider knowledge since that means someone new to the mix won’t have a good time. Sure there are other levels of know-how and with repeated trips you learn the ropes but I hate the  – go down this street no one can find, turn right, use a secret handshake and then be sure to pay first and negotiate a good deal. After all that you will get the most amazing blowie with your haircut at rock bottom prices. Yeah – right.

As always though – feel free to comment – re-order or add some depth. That is the point of it all anyway.

1. Thailand : For general action I think it still stands above the rest. Easy to get around due to the trains. Taxis mostly cooperative and even when not they are not too crazy. Unlike in Manila where they just turn off the meter while driving or ask for 2-5 times the meter. Tons of international food but plenty of cheap, good-tasting Thai options. A plethora of services from bj bars, massage, soapies, go-gos, beer bars, clubs, member clubs and pretty much any of the normal stuff you want to do. Internet and phone services look to be slipping behind and not exactly cheap but you can get by. Great freelance scene and plenty of places to try and chase normal girls. There is a reason Thailand is the top tourist destination in the region – you can’t beat it. For sure it may not be as good as it was but is any place? However I think it is still pretty good and for the most part, minus the bed clubs of the country, the pricing is still quite reasonable.
2. Indonesia : It takes a little more work than Thailand and there are no go-go bars and I have not found the equivalent of a soapie joint but apart from that Jakarta packs a lot of punch. The party scene is pretty intense with clubs that go late and the attitude, shall we say, is a little freer than Thailand. Check this for things that happen there. There are some killer massage joints – tons of them. You have places like Fortune near the Le Merdian hotel. Spa, gym, pools, and a rub and tug for good price. Then places like Malioboro that offer almost all of the various p4p race options under one roof. Could be the best spot in SEA for non-asian p4p action. No chubby uzbeks – talking hot ukranians for example. Pricey but heh. Plenty of good food, good clubs and easy to get around with cheap taxis but the traffic is hell. As a tidbit the hotel FL scene is probably better than Thailand’s and decent pricing – girls, not the booze. No Lolita’s though.
3. Philippines : Given the taxi hell, pricing and general dodgy feel sometimes I had to rank indo higher. That’s me anyway. Sure there are go-gos in Manila but they are crap compared to Thailand so what is the point? The FL scene is pretty good though and lots of variety. The English is good so easy to get around and chat people up but the taxis sucks and so does the traffic. Food is okay but way too much Western influence for my taste. No real street food scene either which is the cool part about Thailand and Indonesia. The massage joints are okay but nothing off the charts yet but maybe there is something I have not yet found. Karaoke scene not my fav but lots of hotties there. Online though, one can meet lots of girls and not just the p4p. The clubbing is decent but I think Indo better but the variety of folks in the club is nice – much better than Thailand. Also no Lolita’s.
4. Cambodia : It is a toss up but the depth is not there in Cambodia so Manila is better – however I think Cambodia is more fun than Vietnam. It is funny – people always talk about finding Viets in Cambodia but for my taste the Viets have the worst service but if you want them – go to Vietnam? Cambodia has great food, easy to get around via motos, nice edgy feel with lots of “supplies”, good FL scene, stays open late and there is plenty of service bars. Not quite Lolita’s but almost. Language might be a little more of an issue here but I think there is enough English going around to deal with. Internet wise Cambodia sucks and access to Internet, like with USB dongles, is not taken off yet. This is where Indo and Ph have it over all these places. Cheap Internet access and lots of open wi-fi everywhere. Thailand fairly clueless in this regard. p4p pricing seems to be on par with Thailand and good value for the money. Lolita’s – sort of. Also – I guess the beach scene is cool for partying?
5. Vietnam : The only place to go to party is Saigon or HCMC. Yes – places like Hanoi are cool but the scene is not there. Food is awesome in VN, taxis are petty easy and I think it is safe enough to pretty much cruise around. Plenty of clubs, clubs are open late and there are clubs for FL activity as well. Given the state of Dong – Vietnam is pretty good value for the money. There are no go-go bars but plenty of beer-bar and service bar options but usually I think they are not that great value for the money as compared to Thailand. Your mileage may vary. There are some cool bars with lots of hostesses but you have to meet them in other ways – but this where some of the cuter girls are in my opinion. Here is the rub with VN though – the service is not something people write home about. That seems to be a fairly unanimous opinion across SEA. Yes – you will see some stunners. I fall in love more times in VN than anywhere I go but try talking to them or cracking the shell. Tough to do. Of course readers or people who are old VN hands will say VN is amazing and you just have to know where to go and how to do it. Great – but then it fails the test of being able to just show up and have a great time. Massage scene is okay but nothing like 1,2 an 3 in the list. No proper Lolita’s.
6. Malaysia : It ain’t great but it is better than Singapore. Good clubs and lots of late night stuff but most people think it used to be better. Food is great and plenty of places to eat. Taxi suck dirty, smelly ass though and you would think they could fix this. Massage scene is pretty good but I never seem to find the best places – it is another one of those sides of Malaysia that you have to know where to go type of thing – I never seem to. If you happen to be in KL you can have fun but it is not as cheap or crazy as it used to be.
7. Singapore : As of late the place is lightening up a bit – later clubs, more parties but Singapore is just fucking expensive, pretentious and tends to be more of a family joint. Yes – there is Orchard Towers (4 floors) but the drinks are pricey and the girls are as well. There are lots of little alternative scenes but it take some digging. Party favors are not tolerated. Geylang seems to be the last red light area in town but I have spent zero time there. The idea of a district bothers me to begin with. Food is plentiful but not cheap. Taxis suck. You can never get one when you want one and the price of wherever it is that you are going will take 2-3 drinks out of your budget. Plenty of girls though and places to meet but be prepared to spend to do it. The only cool thing I can give to Sing is the free wi-fi all over town. Props but of course the whole net is censored.

Not an exhaustive review but it might help with deciding where to party or which countries to visit.

discuss…

ps. No I did not forget Laos. I have not spent enough time there to render an opinion. Anyone else?

I’ve been to Bada Bing a few times now since it opened and it’s really beginning to grow on me. It has a Baccara/Mandarin kind of feel to it with a ground floor stage and cush red seating all around. Also, a glass ceiling for viewing girls dancing upstairs. Although, upstairs hasn’t really gotten going yet. A few girls doing some heavy petting shows, but not the beaver bearing schoolgirls like Baccara.

When it first opened, the talent was very weak, but this has drastically changed over time. They are starting to get more and more lookers so it’s definitely worth checking out.

The Heckler sent me BadaBing’s Twitter account if you want to follow their Tweets at http://twitter.com/badabingagogo. One of their tweets has a YouTube link where you can see a little bit about what I’m talking about. The YouTube link is here.

Even with upstairs not going yet, the talent is there, the service is good, the music is pumping, and the owner’s seem to actually give a damn. For Patpong, this is top of the food chain imho, and a GoGo that Tony Soprano would certainly be proud of.