DW…Sat in XXX bar and some ugly pig came and sat next to us. She has bad teeth, but we still bought her a drink.
YP…Sat in XXX bar and some stunning gorgeous chick sat next to us. Wait, I think she’s a chick?

They will be spending at least 1000 baht per hour, and will be bringing a Camera.

Here’s how you can join in on the fun. Post a comment here with any bars you would like them to visit, or if you want them to provide any Pattaya-related updates. For instance, “Can you visit Lolita’s and tell us what the lineup looks like?” or “Check out Hi Boss Bar on Soi 6 and have YP drop his pants and dance on the bar” or “Smack a Beach Road Tailor Tout in the nuts and run away like your Forrest Gump”.

Not sure they will honor every request, it’s not like they have to or are getting paid, but maybe.

Anyway, they will write up their experiences and we can all have a good laugh, or cry.

Playing cost you nothing, so get your comments in and see what happens.

Crazy Bastards!

Anyway, It was actually a little bit different for me. It had been a while, and because of that, it felt kind of new and exciting again. I felt like a black leopard returning to the jungle after months of captivity, and one that was still doped up on tranquilizers.

I was extremely wasted as I’ve mentioned, and on the prowl. My prey? Sukhumvit street whores. The whore’ier the better. The more scantly clad, the better. I was looking for a lively one with a real slutty mouth. The kind that would make a seasoned porn star blush.

The people I passed on the street were almost invisible to me at this point. If they didn’t fit the description, they were just blurred images. The hunt was on and I had lost touch with humanity. Just as a leopard would navigate the trees and thick brush of the jungle, I was navigating the bangkok concrete, food stalls, and late night shadows.

I walked past Nana Parking Lot and didn’t even give it a glance. This was more of a Suk 3 to Suk 19 type of night. I stopped at the Suk 4 7-11 and picked up a pack of smokes. I’m not a regular smoker, but they tend to push me a little more over the edge when I’m out drinking. I also took this time to suck down a packet of orange flavored Kamagra. After all, even leopards can get whiskey dick. I slurped down, lit up and crossed over Suk.

The stretch between 3 and 5 is a good place to start. There are working girls waiting for the bus and dozens of strung out CW’s (Crack Whores) looking for their next fix. There were also plenty of LBs and African Imports lining the corridor. There was one nasty little tramp in a dirty white dress, and man, she was filthy. Bruises on her legs, missing teeth, and all types of blotches covering her neck. She probably wore white to hide all the job stains. This girl was rough. I decided to go for it. No, eff you, I was mashed, but not that mashed.

I continued on past Suk 5 and trolled the night bars for strays. I wasn’t in the mood for a sitting girl though. She had to be walking alone or leaning against a wall. I’m very particular that way. The corner of Suk 7, more LBs. I heard the usual “you remember me?” and I felt like a hot office chick walking by a team of construction workers on their lunch break. It’s good to feel wanted.

I reached the 7/1 Subway and decided to sit for a bit, have a smoke, and see if I get accosted. It worked, but the two pairs of girls that stopped by first were just not doing it for me. They both offered 3somes, but were all medium-sized with no boobs. No fire in the loins. Move along girls.

Next, a solo came strolling along. Skinny, jeans, and a white top with stringy shoulder straps. She was dark with frizzy hair and a confused look. I said “Hi”. I’m smooth like that. She was carrying a little purse with two hands on it covering her zipper region. She stopped, swayed a bit, smiled and said “Hi” back. I just love these late night encounters.

I asked her if she would like to sit, and she did. She was real fidgety, couldn’t sit still. Maybe she just drank a few cups of coffee? Never mind. All I could think about were those frail little white straps covering her shiny brown shoulders. Her body did fit the bill. Small boobs, but she was early 20s so it couldn’t be too messy. I was more in a shoulder, hip, and ass sort of mood anyway.

We exchanged names and a little Thai and then in a lazy and filthy kind of way she said “What do you want to do?”. Normally, I play coy and think too much about the whole situation. This night, I was very direct. I said “I want you to tell me what I can do. I’m looking for a lady who is not shy and who talks sexy and dirty (taleung in Thai). I will pay you good, but you have to tell me now, or I will keep looking”. She replied with a winner “You can do everything. You can fuck me in the ass, in the pussy, and in the mouth”.

Now, I can only write from my own experiences, but this kind of candid reply actually doesn’t happen to me that often. Well, not from girls I’m interested in anyway.

My mind started racing with thoughts of what I wanted to do with/to her. And just like that I was paying the PB Hotel concierge for a long-time, condoms, and a couple of big bottles of Heineken. I normally spring for porn too, but it’s always a major production getting it to work. Besides, I really didn’t need it.

Things got nasty quick. No shower, eff that. OrangeK had me rocked up and I wanted her head bobbing up and down on it. Her body was actually not that bad. A little skinny with tiny boobs, but no signs of motherhood or leprosy.

After about five minutes, I put a rubber on, put her on all fours and the fuck parade was on. Over and over, sweaty and smelly. It got a bit too sweaty and smelly actually so we decided on a shower and Heineken break. A quick one. Besides, I really wanted to eat her out. Gross? I know, but I just get that way.

We went on for about an hour more. After the second shot, I was spent. I just wanted to get the hell out of there before the sun came up. I’m lomantic that way. I told her that I had to go. She didn’t seem too bothered. After all, there was still some Heineken left and she had a few more hours left on the room. We exchanged numbers and I was off to catch a taxi home.

See, I told you it wasn’t weird or out of the ordinary, but like I said, it was a good night and a type of night I hadn’t had in a while. The next day, my buds asked me what I ended up doing after I disappeared from hanging with them. I just said “It was just a dirty and filthy PB kind of night”. Indeed it was. Simple, raw, and available just about every day and night, Suk 3 to Suk 19.

I should add one caveat here. If you’re a newbie, I wouldn’t recommend getting drunk and trolling for street ho’s on Sukhumvit at 3am. Sitting at one of the erect-a-bar’s, or going to the many After Hours places is a much better option. There are caveats there too, but not as many. Peace!

But, that’s his choice. YP chooses Lima Brava’s…. The Heckler rejects hi-so girls… and BBB… well, I’ll leave it there.

So, Lionel was telling me that it was his penultimate night in Bangkok. His BGGF was recovering from a weeks partying (she loves to party… especially when Lionel is tucked up in bed)… so Lionel had arranged with BBB for a last nights hanging out and beer drinking. Well, that was the plan anyway.

They were to meet at Mango HQ at 7:30. At 8pm, Lionel called up BBB and asked where the fook he is. BBB made his apologies saying that he had a problem with his water and that as soon as he had a shower, he’d meet up. Damn… we didn’t remember it was his Birthday.

Roll on 9pm… BBB turned up ready for action. Lionel asked me along also.. more the merrier and all that.

Off we skipped merrily to Soi Cowboy. 1st stop was Shark Bar. Selfishly because I wanted to see an old flame. BBB left to smooch some other bint…. Lionel just gazed up at the scantily clad girls.

After BBB had a cigarette and I got rid of the bint, I suggested Tilac…. In we went. BBB was instantly bummed out as it was full of women and drinkers. He then waited outside and had a smoke.

Lionel was having fun whilst various girls rubbed his bits. He was smiling like YP does when he wakes in the morning to NOT find poo on the end of his nob. I was starting to think he doesn’t get out much. The girls we ‘ok’ , the place was packed and we had to hoof some lazy cows off some stools so that we could sit down. All in all, it was worth a drink, but not entertaining enough to keep us there any longer.

Outside we pondered our next move. Lionel was concerned about BBB. BBB didn’t look like he was having fun and Lionel felt responsible for BBB’s bad time.

I explained to Lionel that as BBB has been in BKK for many, many years, and slept with man, beast and dog, that all the neon lights, fake boobies, jailhouse tatts and stretch marks no longer ‘did-it’ for him. These days, BBB picks his venue according to what ‘extras’ they offer. Extras being smoking and food.

Shamefully, I am not up to speed with who owns what go-go and which go-go does certain shows. I just know of the few go-gos which I have to avoid for the rest of my life in case the girls I promised to marry and buy a moped for are still waiting patiently for me. So off we skipped to the Wong-Gun or whatever it’s called.

The lovely girls in there were doing things that appalled BBB. There were girls in there that were doing unspeakable things with cigarettes. BBB was mortified. How could they stuff them up their boxes with out smoking them the normal way.

Lionel’s grin seemed to get bigger and bigger. At one point I counted more teeth in his smile than a Ferrari gearbox. After BBB trying to suck in any ‘free’ smoke what was wafting through the air, he went outside to have a real smoke.

At this point Lionel was growing more concerned for BBB, wanting him to have some fun. Off we went to Long-Suzi’s where the girls were having a bit of a rubdown with the Radox. For a whole 10 mins, that gogo was the cleanest smelling gogo in Cowboy. Not that clean that I’d lick a pole. Moving on….. With BBB outside smoking, Lionel was once again amazed at all these women in suds. Drinks downed, off we went to meet BBB outside in a cloud of smoke.

Time was getting on, and being Lionel’s last night and BBB not too concerned about Lionel being pleasured before he fucks off to Farangland, I suggested Afterskool with the idea that Lionel could sit in the Naughtyboys corner. I poked my head in there and was met by absolute hogs. The urchins that sat outside were too busy knawing on what looked like a human leg bone or something. Not at all interested in us, the paying customer.

What to do… BBB had already given us a review of all the stinking dirty gogo’s in Cowboy that totally disgusted him so I came up with the master plan… TWINS!

It just so happens there is a Fish & Chip shop next door… I think it’s fish anyway. There is always a strong smell of fish when I approach Twins… With BBB finally happy that he can stuff his face, Lionel and I entered the hovel I love and know as Twins. Immediately 3 trolls escorted us in, where we were greeted by another trog gargling Listerine. Behind the bar was a ladyboy. Or a girl-boy. Or a poof. Not sure what it was, but as long as the bar was between us, there would be no glass ashtrays getting broken.

After a few moments of Lionel looking at the décor and ordering a Cognac and Cuban cigar, the two trogs got to grips with Lionel. I had my back to him so couldn’t see what was going on. Even with one of my trogs tongues 40cm into my lug hole, I could still hear the slurping and gagging of the clingons behind me.

He seemed to be having fun.

More than I could say for me. One of my trogs who seemed to have teeth so bad that she could eat an apple through a tennis racket and was living in hope that she would be called up to play the Child Catcher in the remake of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang seemed hell bent on licking the back of my eyeballs through my ears. Only stopping to say ‘one dink for me’…… this would make it 3 since we walked through the door and at this rate would end up being 9 before I blew my beans over their faces.

Enough was enough… it just wasn’t working for me. I looked back to see Lionel in a deflated state so assumed that the spunk added to the already dry spunk on the wall was his. Off we go.

I told Lionel that this one was on me. That way he’d always be able to look at his bggf in the eye and tell her that he never paid for any sexual acts. Except all the money he spend on her of course.

I showered the girls with money…. Not out of appreciation, more like the way you’d pay a Scouser money when you return to your car having already been told it’d not be there when you got back had you not paid the little git. So with the money paid to the preying wolf pack I headed for the door. Lionel, having just had the Dyson experience was walking like a new born pony.

Outside, BBB was rubbing his belly, Lionel was rubbing his nuts and I was rubbing the gsaliva off my ear. After a little refreshment, we bid BBB goodbye and headed back to Mango HQ.

A few drinks followed with Lionel pondering over which kidney he could sell on eBay so he could stay on in Bangkok for a few more months. Or more specifically, TWINS.

Twins is a place you either love or hate. For me, it is pure grot and filth. The girls can be a laugh, but more often than not, they are just a bunch of piranhas. It does the trick quick and easy. There is no haggling or asking them what they do, they just get on with it. For Lionel, that was just what was needed.

For the next hour Lionel was recalling his experience. I think he enjoyed himself. But what I do know is that with his milk urns empty, his bggf couldn’t hit him for a big payoff in order to relieve his frustrations in his final hours.

Me, it was just another day at the office.

The night before the party saw me turning away 2 girls at my door.   The next day was to be a big one and I needed to save energy.  These two girls certainly would not have saving energy on their minds… or the environment.    I gave The Heckler direct instructions to step away from the girls… don’t look back.  Head for home…, do not pass Jo, do not give her 200 dollars.

I then turned to my other pal ‘Crazy Sweede1’ to dish out the same instructions….  to save energy….  Too late.. he was already adding to the stains on my Jackson Pollock inspired sofa.

I went to bed, being a good little boy that I am.   Can’t say I got much sleep, if any at all….  My sleep was disturbed with CS1 trying to persuade his latest wife to take it up the arse…….

SMS on the phone at 6am from pmmp.  He was in the hood and asked if anything going on.  Apart from CS1 thumbing in a softie.. not a lot… but I could make a few calls and get a party started.

Executive decision from the wise one was to save it for the next night…..   off to (try and) sleep again.

Roll on 2pm.   CS 1….  Pmmp, ssB and I gathered in HQ for breakfast provided by pmmp.  When we say breakfast,  that is actually 3 shots of Belvedere Black Vodka each.  Just what the alcoholic ordered.

It’s been a while since some of us have been together…so a catch up was in order.  Pattaya in 12 would have been great, but we had the Mango party…   so what else can we do?  Lets hit the streets.  My god, it hurt. I went outside only to see what can be described as a huge ball of fire in the sky.  There are reasons I don’t like going outside in the daytime, and I just remembered the main one.

Some bright spark suggested cowboy in the afternoon… of course… because that’s what it’s known for… being busy at 2pm….    Our taxi driver dumped us off at the bottom on 23…..  we did the walk… saw lots of old hogs buying food and washing soiled pants…  it wasn’t pretty.   Walked straight to the top at Asoke, and jumped in a cab… by jove, it was the same cab who had just circled around to get back to Sukhumvit. This must be fate.    I am sure he was chuckling to himself that a bunch of young(ish) dappers couldn’t find any action in one of the worlds hotspots.

Soi 22 was the destination as we were in desperate need of booze and boobies.   Taffy’s, an old fave of my pal Prison Rape Pete was the 1^st call…..   it was full of old guys flirting with equally as old women.. pass…..  a little more trawling and us questioning our abilities to find women in Bangkok on a Saturday afternoon…   We spied a cute little thing opening up Cheers Bar.  She ushered us in…. poured us drinks and put some music on.  All well and good, but we wanted boobies.  With drinking underway…..   troops were rising from their pits.  YP was inbound as was Crazy Sweede 2.   The cute little girl behind the counter promised us that her pals were on the way and would be there in 5 mins.    15 mins later we were getting restless.   Just about to check-bin the hell out of there when her pals turned up.  As did YP and CS2.   Bored…no boobies… we spent an hour in there… guzzled lots of booze but were ready to move on.

Drunken empty promises were made to return later… little fingers were shaken and kisses blown.  If only she had shown some boobies.

It was at this point I received an SMS from our absent companion ‘The Heckler’.  He followed my instructions of resting up until he arrived home and called in some dirty arse CW’s.  He was still at it.  We could shove our bonding up our arses… he was gettin’ some.

Next on the agenda was Wild Country.  My god.   The place was also full of hogs.  This is where bar girls go to retire me thinks.   Not that the ‘ladies’ were not friendly, and to the more ‘mature’ customer, I am sure the place is a bundle of fun.  But for us young and hip fellas of the moment, the place was scary.   There was one ‘piece’ that was so visually offensive, I couldn’t believe that anyone would get stuck into it.  Roll on YP… I offered him 10k to bang her.  Such speed of his agreement led me to retract my offer and halve it to 5k.  Pmmp was offering to pay half of this mighty feat.  Again, YP was up for it.  “baby… come on… you and me”.   There was some flirting for a few mins…. YP dropped his pants assuming that it would just save the old hag some time.    The Hags pals leapt into action and pulled them back up.  The old hag would only extend her innocence to him in the form of a drink.  YP was blown out.  We were getting bored.  Moving on……

Out of Wild Country… we were feeling rather drunk….  We decided on getting a cab to Cowboy.  Traffic being as bad as it is… we walked……. And walked….and walked…….

YP chose to take on an old man (me) at chin-ups on those road side head skewers.  I think we were only up to 5 or 6 when the thing gave way.   The skewers are now a tripping hazard.   Running away like little naughty girls we sprinted closer to Cowboy.

This is one of the few times that I have actually walked past TWINS without going in.  I thought the place was closed until a little troll poked her head out the door and beckoned us in.  We were having far too much fun to let her spoil it.

Into Fanny’s…. It was mid-afternoon.  There was one punter in there wearing a white vest and Bermuda shorts. – Oh, and flip flops.   There were a few nice looking girls in there, which was quite surprising.   All of which gave us drunken slobs a wide birth.  YP… upto his usual tricks spotted a lonely miniskirt on a stool…. Cue… remove his strides and put on the skirt.  The usual prancing round the pole with his tackle poked behind his arse followed with whoops from Bermuda boy and boo’s from the girls.  YP’s final pose, exposing his ‘balloon animal twisting’ meat and two veg prompted us to get the hell out of there.   Bermuda boy was all tearful when we left as he thought he’d finally met some people on his level.

Where next?  Well, as in all cases, when we are running out of places to find amusement… Lolitas it is.   We all jumped on motorcis and headed for the trusty soi 8.

Can’t say they were ‘lookers’…     the two which had the nicest tops of heads were snapped up by the two senior members of our group.  No chatting up, no drinks… straight in. Job done.   They spent the best part of 30 mins up there, which left the rest of us to continue drinking.   For some reason… we’d switched to Jaeger Bombs.  Not nice.

There was one little dumpy urchin that looked to be doing well in the ‘Lolitas got Talent’ competition… but was snapped up by another old codger. – damn.   It was nearing later afternoon and still no action.

With the chaps walking down the stairs like new born giraffes we set off for the soi 6 bars.

I say ‘we’….  ssB had head back to the crib to freshen up for the party……  pmmp and CS2 were walking at a fast pace and left us behind….   YP created a new sport of throwing traffic cones and CS1 was looking at anything with a pulse.

Jersey bar was entered…. The usual hellos took place as I’d not seen the crew there for a while…  more drinks ordered……  Now there was just YP, CS1 and me, and a rather buxom young lady.  Again… I forget what was said… but the more drinks we offered to buy the girl, the more clothes she promised to remove.   She bottled it.  YP, ever so keen to show her how it’s done, once again (for the 4^th time of the day) stripped off and posed on the pool table like a Playboy Centerfold spread.   Having suspected that we’d outstayed our welcome, we paid the bill… left a hefty tip (guilt) and were heading back to the Mango.

Walking along Soi 4 we spied a little old lady selling cheap nasty crap displayed on a blanket on the pavement.   Having seen a little green plastic frog, YP and I both discussed the need for such an item. Seeing that we were fresh out of green plastic frogs, we deemed the purchase necessary.  Pulling out a crumpled 100…  the old lady was delighted with the sale.  However, CS1 and I were feeling left out.  Now that YP had a pet, we perused the other items on sale and decided on an ugly little fury monkey that holds on round your neck.  A couple of those… and a few more hundred baht saw us walking with our new pets.  After a whole 15 seconds, YP was sick of his frog and wanted a monkey.  We thought of using our honed trading skills… instead, just threw the frog on the floor, picked up another monkey and handed over yet more crumpled hundreds.  The old lady must have thought it was Christmas.  I am sure she decided to pack up her blanket  of crap for the day having made her money.

Watching this buffoonery from across the street were a bunch of chirpy little giggling girls outside Hilary bar….    So… we thought we’d go and check the place out with our new pets.

Surprisingly, we were welcomed with smiles and laughs.  At least I think we did.  But that lasted all of 2 minutes when the girls (rightfully so) surmised that we were just pissed up idiots.  They did like the monkeys though, and many came over to have a little play.  It was at that point, YP’s little pink monkey was not enough, and decided he wanted a dog?!  Off he went in pursuit of the little old lady.  Well.. I thought he had…  what he actually did was go onto Soi 4 and pick up trainee pig-dog and bring him into the bar.  A proper fookin dog?!?!    YP needs to hit the weights a bit more, as the dog was a bit of a struggle!

With the dog set free and the bill paid, we made our way back to HQ.  Inside the Mango we found our crew that had abandoned us.   Looking at the state of us, with monkeys round our necks, Jaeger Bombs down our shirts and smelling of dog, I am not surprised.

The party got underway…  I am told it all went well, but for me, the memories I’ll take of the party is of me hurling into a carrier bag whilst YP was hurling into my sink around 11pm.

I seem to recall, as I sat there feeling sorry for myself… YP asking if he could drink my sick. ?!?!

I’m getting too old for this shit.

Puke Massage can be found on Siam Soi 6, although with a name like that, wouldnt be too out of place on Pattaya Soi 6.

The girls and token massage fag outside were a pretty decent looking bunch. I didn’t feel like vomitting at all when I saw them. Unless they offer any puke related extras, such as regurgitating last nights somtam over your prick for a few hundred baht, Im at a loss as to the inspiration behind the name

Pics from our 2nd Anniversary Party are now available here. I personally don’t remember most of it, brutal pounding going on. Some of the photos came out a bit fuzzy, but I included them anyway. Luckily, the promo girls shots turned out okay. Whew!

Enjoy, and hope to see you at the next one.

Team Mango

P.S. Thanks for the pics IrishC and NT

I am a fan of Indonesia and learning to enjoy the differences it has to Thailand. It is not as good as Bangkok in some ways but yet better in other ways. It can’t replace Thailand but if you happen to go to Indonesia you should have more fun than YP does but maybe that ain’t saying much.

The massage scene is where most of the p4p fun happens so this last trip I toured around a little bit more. I tend to hit Fortuna for a nice rub and tug. The massage is good, the prices are good and the girls are fun. Your mileage may vary but there are people who claim to get much more than a tug.

In the same vein as Fortuna is the Delta message chain. Another decent rub and tug joint popular with the locals. I have not been yet but you can see them around town.

This last time we stopped in at a place I had heard about but had yet to explore since it is across town from where I normally stay. The Classic Hotel looks like a normal old school, badly decorated hotel but in the basement has a big spa. There is the normal “pay as you go in” type of service for spa, gym, lounge with a basic rub and tug. There are also full service girls of various nationalities. You can pay one price on the way out for the full meal deal. Starts from around 500,000 inr on up for the locals and 1 mil on up for the non locals. I saw uzbeks, russians, colombians and so on. This seems to be the norm in the big spa hotels. I think they allow the girls to stay as visiting hotel service staff but the only thing they service is me. It was kind of late and I was not seeing anything special and the pushy mamasan was killing me so I went with the normal massage service. Fun girl with some extras. I think classic in the late afternoon with more selection would be a good economical choice but the place is a little rundown.

The last place we tried, besides the tried and trusted Malioboro, was the much raved about Alexis. When it comes to style and size this has to be the biggest in Jakarta. A multi-story joint with club, lounge, karaoke, spa, and rooftop chill place with the hookers. Top floor is sick. A big lounge with all sorts of girls hanging out. Indos, thai, chinese, latam and eastern europe. Varies day by day and the pricing varies as well. The indos were not the hotties here – I would say the Chinese were but the prices are up there from like 1.5 mil on up but once again cheaper than flying to China?

You can lounge around in your robe Hugh Hefner style while buying drinks for the chickies. Then if you choose so the girl gets into a bikini and can frolic with you at the pool or sauna. Then you head to the “rooms” to discuss whether BRIC should be BRICi – before heading to the spa to chill. The model looks pretty appealing but the prices are up there. I plan on going back during less peak times to explore China a little bit more. I also here the club can get nutty late at night.

Back to trolling the net for the Indo celeb videos…

laterz!

It’s our 2nd anniversary this coming Saturday. Want to extend a welcoming invitation to all and sundry to come down and help us celebrate. We’ll be showing our appreciation to all our patrons by putting on free grub and snacks. Plenty of eye candy should be on hand in the form of 8 Jim Beam promo girls (for those of you who showed up for the 4th of July party and want another crack at the three girls we had on hand, they should be part of the contingent). Drink specials galore in the form of 79 baht pints of Tiger and Heineken for the entirety of the evening. Our Wednesday Night Beer Lao special (65/75 a bottle reg/dark) and Friday Night San Miguel Light special (65/bottle) will be in effect all night as well. Bottles of Jim Beam Black and Russian Standard Vodka will be practically given away at 1400 baht a bottle (includes mixers). We’ll also be doing the rounds of the bar giving away Mango Nipple shots from time to time.

Hope to see everyone there!

Next: which lies to tell which people. It’s a major pain point of being a LOSophile, even being single. I’ve got a mouthy boss who lives vicariously through my Thailand trips. Although I won’t divulge any details (after the first trip), he re-hashes these, makes the rest up and tells all and sundry. ‘Ah, you’re the……that one,’ I often hear, shaking hands with someone I’ve never met, a knowing wink usually thrown in. Not good, especially with the ladies, with whom I’m now Persona non Grata (as if I wasn’t before). But fuck-em, they had their chance. It’s a point others have made, and I’d also agree the same about speaking any Thai in Farangland – not as appreciated as you might expect, the receiver drawing their own conclusion about you….. usually the right one….

Family and Friends are a little more difficult. A wealthy Aunt in New York, learning that my third visit in 18 months was imminent, went to the trouble of bringing – to church (thanks Auntie) – a newspaper cutting detailing the seamier side of Bangkok. Outside Sunday chapel, I assured her Bangkok had done a post-dungeon Boy George and gone all puritanical. She didn’t buy it, and the image of my future pad in a shady Sukhumvit Soi started going misty.

I first came to Bangkok four years ago, had ‘the time’ and was back six months later. The next time, although great, showed up a few cracks in the dream. Barfines going bad, other stuff going bad. As we sat at the airport with me vowing not to return, my friend Rich smiled. ‘Yes you will’. I was falling up the steps of the plane in haste 6 months later, on my own this time, and it was on that trip I had the experience I can only term as ‘crossing the line’.

Everyone’s got their own MO and I’m a Go-go nut. I agree with the pitfalls of this arena but I just like the format, the parade, the chase, the steal, the Hail Mary…..In BKK on my own for the first time and conscious of overdoing the Go-gos, I was keen to explore other options. I’d done a Soapie on the second trip – the action itself was a bit of a let-down but everything else around the experience was a nailed-on hoodang (that means a good thing) – the line-ups, sidelines, a goofball Papasan, the raft, hell even the lift-ride. But the highlight was watching other freshers enter and catch their first glimpse of the set-up, each face in turn lighting up and fixed with a thousand-yard leer. Okay, what else was there? I hadn’t heard of G-Clubs yet, I knew and liked certain beer-bars with live bands, but I was drawn and daunted in equal measure by the freelance options. I was far too green for the Sidewalks of Sukhumvit. I needed an entry-level experience, and where better than…….

Beergarden Soi 7 was fairly packed when I entered and must have been 85% women at least. Nearly all looking exactly like (or worse than) what they were – namely streetwalkers put out to grass. At around 9pm, it was curiously serene for a place so well populated. There was a hushed din, there were lots of eyes on me, and I wasn’t sure if I liked this. I’d never stopped here before, only previously rubbernecked as I passed with a seasoned pro who wanted me to check out the sight. Having an actual drink here was another matter. After some time, I got talking to a 30-something who was obviously not the full ticket. No…not right at all….mad as a custard factory this one. Eventually I extracted myself with the P4P equivalent of the Fulton Sky Hook and landed on another table with some fresh faced…..Irish lads – they were pretty much the only other men in there. ‘All these in here…..they’re basically brasses are they?’, one asked as a hundred eyes pretended not to be watching our every move. I confirmed his astute observation.

Shortly after, a wench passed that caught my eye. I made a cursory check. Nice dress – white with tiny blue pin-stripe…Nordic I believe they call it in fashion circles. Yes, yes, I can work with this. She was over like a shot, I bought her a drink and she seemed desperate to get me to the nearest short-time venue before I turned into a mirage, pumpkin or both. This was odd, as she was at least okay-to-middling looking. The Irish blokes melted away and I then remember snatches of conversation between mine and some girls seated nearby. It transpired that they weren’t being complimentary to my squeeze. ‘They say I bit clay-zee’ ‘You seem fine to me, toots, compared to that last number’. Then, she quoted me a price for LT, the existence of which I’d only heard rumours. Always doubting the veracity of these claims, here it was for my own ears.

I felt embarrassed for her and said I would give her more than that for ST. I’m no soft-nose, but..actually I am. She squeezed my arm tight and occasionally looked between her detractors and me as I finished my beer. ‘Its OK…..I think you’re OK!’, I assured her. As we readied to depart, the other girls gave me slightly pitying looks and muttered between each other doubtfully. Could be simple rivalry, I thought, in a hopeful attempt to allay the queasy feeling of uncharted territory.

More unmapped waters – the ‘short time’ room. I didn’t know any, but I was up for learning. She directed the taxi and we passed QBar and went round the Soi 11 dog-leg. A short way up on the left we pulled into an ill-lit parking garage.. A man who’d seemingly just finished back-to-back shifts in a tire garage appeared, asked for 300 Baht and opened a heavy door that I expected to house lift apparatus, but actually revealed a corridor into a windowless studio room.

It was functional in its sordidness. Matey-girl yabbered to the grease-monkey and he vanished. As I disrobed, a cursory knock at the door heralded it being flung open and a tall girl (where did she come from? a question you soon learn to stop asking in BKK) walked in with FOUR beer bottles so large, I thought I’d shrunk. Brilliant, I want a quick pop and matey-girl wants to make it a 5 day murder-mystery cruise on the Med. Another 500 sheets added to the tab. I showered, came back, then forced down some unwanted fizzy glinker. She started up some nonsense about her feuds and squabbles with rival walkers, life in general, politics, but I soon had her earning her keep. She remained fully-clothed and I saw apparitions of disapproving family members, colleagues, scorned beggars of Christmases past, and long- forgotten circus freaks. Her technique was rough but practiced but I was eventually brought round from my reverie by the searing unmistakable pain of a firm bite to the Johnson tip.

Christ and Buddha! She recoiled in dismay as I sagged against the wall. My hard-on went to ground faster than an outed NFL player and I was astonished that she hadn’t drawn blood. Being resolute to see this thing through, once the pain subsided to a bearable level, I re-grouped and continued from scratch. I got her to strip, noticing her reluctance. It was soon evident why. Yes, that’s right, scourge of P4Pers – bigggg c-section scars and muff hair grown out in attempt to conceal them. I looked around me at the squalor in subdued light. ‘Well, fruitcake, you wanted this experience? Now drink up’. Pramchit’s face flashed before me (Pramchit – lovely good-girl of my acquaintance) If Pramchit was working late, such was our close proximity to her locale, I stood a real chance of bumping into her as I made my exit of shame. But, back to the present, the task at hand, forward I must go. I flipped matey-girl over…..

I finished as quickly as I felt necessary, and, as I withdrew, she seemed quite interested in the condom I was still wearing. It definitely hadn’t split but that wasn’t her concern. She took it off and…….started blowing it up! ‘What the heck are you doing?? Don’t do that!!’ She seemed puzzled at my annoyance as if I was the first punter ever to take exception to this. ‘Please throw it away?!’ I appealed. She seemed to be complying but then repeated the procedure 2-3-4 times more. ‘Stop doing that!’ Seeing the merry devilment in her eyes, I didn’t want to wrestle it from her grasp, and there was nowhere to hide from a shower of my own filthy-yoghurt should she so choose to burst the thing. A perplexing situation. ‘Right, I’m showering’ I grabbed my clothes and took them to the bathroom with me. ‘I’ll just have to brazen-out whatever transpires’ I thought. Like I had any choice.

To my mild relief, when I came back out, she was not outside the door with the fully-inflated balloon of Gentleman’s Relish, but as I looked round the corner to see her idling on the bed, she took a hand from behind her back and blew the wretched thing up again in about 0.3 of a second. NASA would do well to have their drogue-chutes deploy with the same efficiency. She raised herself and hopped towards me chuckling. ‘Please….No!!’ I yelled. Then she ran past me into the bathroom. ‘Here’s your money’ I put some Baht down on a side-table and as I did so…..heard the pop Right, that’s done and….what the Fuck is she gonna do now?? I had to pass the bathroom to get to the door. She looked at me calmly as I passed. ‘Bye Darcy’ (false name) she cooed as I fumbled with the latch. I didn’t stop to see where my Norsemilch had landed after she had used her chosen method of disposal.

My head swam as I walked up Soi 11 in a mild daze. Every girl stepping out of the shadows looked like Pramchit. I couldn’t believe what had just taken place, but the road before me was one from which there was no retreat. It’s been a slippery slope since, and that was definitely the moment I’d crossed the line……

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a Thai girl coming down the road and this Thai girl that was coming down along the road met a nice little boy named Barfine Warrior…. She spoke to him with impeccable English and was genuinely inspiring as he lost himself in her striking, brown eyes. Her words were so tender and discerning and he realised he had a tremendous erection. He raised his cannon and bang on the kisser nailed her with a massive splurge of water. She recoiled and covered her face with her arms spluttering and shouting at him as he scampered up the road laughing like a wanker. All is fair in love and war, and never more so than in Thailand.

About this time, he decided that it would be best to leave the water cannon back at the apartment after a few cheeky soakages. Due in part to the fact that Pattaya can be a dangerous fucking place but more so because he recalled that there were approximately 8 Russians, 2 poodles, 4 English lads and 47 Indians who wanted him dead after they pleaded with him repeatedly not to soak them during that excellent celebration not long ago. After dispensing with it, an enthusiastic BF hit Soi 6 for the first time (since his last trip) and had his bollocks emptied by a pretty young thing that resided in that there locality. He exited the bar about an hour later clearly satisfied but still some troglodyte crept over to him from across the street and smiled inanely offering her services. She looked like a bulldog sucking a fart through a smelly sock. With AIDS. So he asked her how much she cost, had a beer and nailed her too when he felt his cock was working again.

He headed back to his hotel near Soi 7 where he met up with his friends Lyle Watson and Walking Talking Stephen Hawking. He had some chicken and rice while the other two ordered western food. After many hours of hilarious drinking shenanigans down various grotty soi‘s, he grew tired and headed back towards the hotel. He texted his mates telling them he would meet them on Walking Street later on. He then strolled nonchalantly off to a nearby massage parlour for a vigorous wank. He had a short massage and then asked her to pull the cock off him. The masseuse was pretty hot and smiled broadly when he ejaculated clearly relishing his spermatozoon all over her hands. Always a nice delusion.

After returning to the hotel he watched the Pattaya People channel and gave himself a little manual relief to make sure it was still working but didn’t come as that would just be waste. He left the room and made it to Walking Street on time to see all the ladyboys stampeding almost in formation off the street and down a laneway which was something he hadn’t witnessed before. He asked one who was straggling what was happening. A cop was coming apparently. Well, “Big Louise” pegged it down the same alley out of sight so BF continued on his quest. He met up with his mates and they went to a few random shitter gogo bars getting cheap ass beers before going to “Whats up.” They sat about there for an while drinking whisky cokes laughing and generally behaving like cunts. A girl sat beside him asked him his name and he paused for a moment thinking of a new nom de guerre. Optimus prime, it is, he said to her as he threw her a lady drink and started to maul her clit. She asked him the usual questions to uncover his social status which amused him but like any dedicated monger he knew her apparent “interest” in him was bollocks and he kept it all sufficiently vague. She was actually quite nice with big eyes and tits but clearly had the IQ of a cornflake (not that that is really an issue..) He thought that he would barfine her only that LS had announced that he was going off somewhere as he read a text to himself. They left that gogo and went further up Walking Street. LS went off on his own up the street and into 7/11 to get himself some tampons or whatever while BF and WTSH skipped off down to Baccara. The place was packed and full of champion old boys grabbing girls’ snatches and whatnot. They planted themselves beside the stage near the back. WTSH started molesting some young one. BF just sat there entranced watching the licentious show and laughing idiotically with some crazy Japanese guy. When WTSH signalled success the bespectacled cunt went off with his girl so BF finished his drink and left shortly after that to check out another bar. He entered some atrocious kip near Baccara, full of disgusting knackery birds. They were playing Dokken’s cheerfully raucous “Its not Love” on the stereo which got him somewhat excited but then followed it up absurdly with Eric Johnson’s uncheerful “Manhattan,” so he totally lost his mega boner and quickly made an exit.

After he had exited the bar, some girl with a big head smiled at him and started talking to him on the street. She had a hot friend with her (who looked like a class bird he’d banged from tagged) but the friend didn’t speak or even look his way. He talked shite to Mountain Head for a few moments before saying something to the friend but she didn’t respond. He repeated himself but she continued to look pensively up the street. Then her friend explained …. “She deaf!” “Holy shit“, he muttered to himself. He asked Juggernaut Face can her friend read lips but by now she was paying attention and replied in a slightly spastic manner that she could understand him. He promised her the world and after ten minutes was walking arm in arm with her up the street to head home.

As he banged her he realised how simultaneously distracting and hilarious it all was. The noises she was making were priceless: a strange cacophony of guttural sounds and whines that would scare a sabre toothed tiger. He also shouted obscenities and spoke sweet dirty nothings in her ears etc but that goes without saying. As he lay back in bed post coital he imagined that she may even have ‘signed’ dirty to him as well but he couldn’t be sure. He checked the time. Fuck! Not much time left. He sprang out of bed and threw his clothes on all the time telling her to get up and get out. She didn’t budge. He rocked her gently and she awoke startled and a little perplexed. He explained in Retard that he had to catch a plane? which was an absolutely pathetic excuse but she got dressed quickly all the same. He paid her handsomely (700bht) and fucked off down Soi 7 to the end so he could get a Songtaew to Soi 15 again.

He went down Walking Street in full awareness that his balls were drained but knowing that at least if he had a girl he could give her a good root in the morning. He went into Roxy’s and had a whisky and twiddled with his mick in his pocket to get it alive again. The general vacancy was relieved by the slow but distinctly cum-in-mouth/nostril/hair/eyeball demeanour of the trio of heroines on stage. A fit girl dancing on stage caught his eye and he invited her over for a drink and the usual chitchat. She was hot not smoking hot but he got the feeling she wouldn’t mind him fucking her mouth. He waltzed her romantically up Walking Street after barfining her and got a Songtaew to the hotel. After banging her lamely for a quarter of an hour, he realised from a certain angle in the half light that she looked a lot like Jessica Alba. He came with vigour moments later screaming like a wildebeest. He fell off her onto his back, his cock in an absolute state but knowing it will stand him now and ever in good stead.

The End

“the finest prose I have read in a long time.” – Jeffy, The Down Syndrome Times

“Excellent. Compelling, engaging and rich with a strong moral central character.” – Mary Whitehouse, author of “Rape – for Dummies”.

“Fine writing indeed. I’d like to get a large pair of Nora’s bloomers and stuff them right up my nostrils, I tell you, to be sure, to be sure!” – James Joyce, dead cunt.