================
OVERVIEW:
15 years. I’ve done this 15 years straight. Actually, longer. Back to 1989 & Costa Rica. The Park Hotel. What a different world that was. 15 years straight on these trips. While I don’t look it, I’m 59 and slowing down. Two people offered to help me up the California El Station stairs when I was trying to lug my suitcases of 70, 50, and 30 pounds. What’s next, young whippersnappers offering their bus seats? I remember a student once told me when they lower the bus for you, you might as well shoot yourself.
Before I break out the rocking chair, let me tell you about my latest sojourn.
ITINERARY, HEALTH, AND MONEY
Some stats for you:
33 days—17 days in Angeles City, 8 in Bangkok, 8 in Pattaya. The original plan was 38 but that didn’t happen, for many reasons I’ll now explain.
Brought $10,000 for 33 days. Spent nearly all of it. Yep, that’s $300 a day. 54 women in 33 days will cost that.
It’s been a tough year, health-wise. Some stuff I don’t need to get into. I vowed a diet and had knocked off about 12 pounds before hitting Thailand. Damn those world-class buffets! Ending up gaining 2 pounds, fuuuuck.
Haven’t been sleeping right for some time. Currently on a drug cocktail of 5mg melatonin, 5mm Ambien, 250mgs magnesium, 600 calcium. It’s working reasonably well. If I get just one slug of three hours’ sleep and a couple 1 ½’s, I’m human the next day.
UNITED FLIGHT OUT, CATHAY PACIFIC BACK:
Dues and more dues. Broke off the headphone pin in the jack on the way out because the woman inside me insisted on getting up every hour on the hour so lost sound on my movies ½ way through. Thanks, lady. United out was basic food, basic seat.
Mercifully calm air to Tokyo. Second flight from Toyko had a guy in the center seat with more girth than myself shoving that girth here and there, claiming both armrests right from the start. Fucking fat heathen had no regard.
The Cathay Pacific flight on the return I had unbelievable turbulence. The Coke barely stayed in the cup, seat belt sign on for a full 5 hours and brutal turbulence for pieces of every movie I watched, maybe two solid hours of white knuckle “ok, this is bad” stuff. The predicted lightning storm in Chicago mercifully never materialized. After all that, landed in clear skies.
A N G E L E S C I T Y
PACIFIC BREEZE:
Compared to Majestic Grande in Bangkok, well—there is no comparison. But let me tell you what Pacific Breeze does have that MG doesn’t. Every doorman, housekeeper, and desk clerk girl KNOWS MY NAME. “Hello sir Paul!” It sets the tone for the entire experience of Angeles. While Thailand is blessedly anonymous for me, I’m known everywhere in Angeles.
Pacific Breeze room 606 is a bit rundown. Upon entrance, the bathroom smells like a sewer. Great. But the 150 pounds of stuff I brought is joined by what I had in storage here, already laid out by the good folks of Pacific Breeze. My suitcase, mirror, fan are set up and ready to go. They scrubbed the AC filters, 4 towels & 4 pillows—everything ready to go. These guys are the best. One quick story: I left behind my critical sleeping meds behind when I split for Manila. Pacific Breeze ran a car out at no cost to me and got me the stuff just in time. Name me another hotel that would do that? Pacific Breeze, #1.
SAME SAME:
I love consistency. Don’t like seeing stuff change that I love. Despite the fact that Kokomos food is basic at best, I’m glad to find Heide and crew still there—how many years now? My usual pancakes and eggs for 14 straight days. The usual sad sack locals tramping through with Viagra/Cialis, wallets/sunglasses, bootlegged DVD’s. Don’t have the heart to ask that DVD dude why I should buy movies from him when I can go to Pirate Bay and steal them myself. Bad karma. Imagine having to schlepp and sell that shit around all day every day to make, what, $15 bucks?
PAULY'S PILLY REALITY:
In the best of times I’m a finicky sleeper. To sleep I need, in no particular order: Sleep mask, earplugs, fan/moving air, very cold, total dark, total quiet. Up almost hourly to pee. Went to the doctor about it…almost cancelled the trip imagining all the other drugs I’d be taking and poor sleeping conditions. Sucked it up and came anyhow.
In addition to the sleep stuff I’ve got the usual array of pills from Alldaychemist.com: 100mg Viagra and 25mg Cialis. Also, the Target mega-bottle of stomach acid pills to quell the Viagra side effects plus another mega-bottle of ibuproprin, of which I’ll be taking 3 to 4 a day to combat the backache. Now add 5 solid days of jet lag. Good luck.
Didn’t get an STD this trip. No idea how that’s possible considering I fucked those 54 women. Pure luck or merciful Gods.
So many women were in dire straits. These are friends of mine who I’m not willing to see go under. Some of these women use that, and use me.
THE HIT UP LIST:
Long as my arm.
Donna works at a laundry in Manila. 13 hours, 150 pesos a day. Can you imagine? She’s got a shot at a new gig in the Mall but needs the correct paperwork. Will cost $40 bucks. Could change her life. Donna is 22 with a 7-year-old kid, basically locked in, a slave. This $40 might get her started on a new life. Then again, it might all be bullshit. I give it to her. But then come the endless follow up FB messages. She’s got a friend for me, can they come over? No longer want to fuck her but she’s still a good kid. Sweetheart, I’ll help, but I’m a broke-ass adjunct professor, NOT a bank—stop with the requests.
“Paul! Hey Paul! Paaaauuuuuul!” Every time I pass WOW bar (CH Link). It gets tiring, the mooching, especially when I rarely barfine from here. Known the mamasan for five years now, buy her lunch now and again. ‘course the minute I come close the girls want $$$ too. Relentless and never-ending. “Why you always walk on other side of street?” “Because you hit me up for money every time” Paul, I hungry…”
Here’s what it sounds like on Facebook:
“Can I ask u budget pls just only little bit so I can pay rent pls Paul. Just ask u only ples it’s possible do transaction to Western. I beg you for now. I’m feeling sick right now. Pls.”
“Hon can you help me help me my baby in hospital can you help? Can you help me? I need pay hospital can you send please my baby crying )))) 4 crying emojis”
“I need talk to you my son in hospital but I don’t like tell you paul people think because I always smiling but paul please help. Please.”
“can I come now paul please my stomach hurt I need ultrasound and check my blood. 1500. I bring you 2 new girls help me cuz no one help me only you.”
MARTIAL LAW IN THE SOUTH:
My concerned father and brother shoot me emails with CNN links about chaos in the Philippines. Terrorist activity has broken out! Dozens dead, the government declares martial law! It’s a war zone and my people are concerned about my welfare. “NO PUSSY IS WORTH IT! GET OUT NOW!” CNN coverage headlines. DUTERTE DECLARES MARTIAL LAW!
My response? Think I’ll go to Kokomo’s for a pancake breakfast. Here in Angeles, martial law is a non-issue. It’s actually less than that. Not sure if the girls talk about it with their people, but with me it was never once discussed. Nobody talks about ISIS here…they’re too busy trying to muscle up money to buy their kid required books for school. Duterte declaration? That’s in the South, not here, far away.
I hit the tube looking for local news coverage. What I get are the usual absurd soap operas and C-rate local movies. If this was a thing, shouldn’t it be dominating the air waves?
It’s easy to be blasé about it, but let’s face it… Think about how wide-open Fields is. Can you imagine what a single terrorist could do with an automatic rifle or moving vehicle running people down? Even one incident, one sex tourist killed and imagine the hit this place would take. But Duterte isn’t going to shut down the bar trade any time soon.
And with that said, onto the bitches…
CHICKS- ANGELES CITY:
“Make that fucking sound—hey, baby!”—Deadmau5
Mongering in Angeles is cheaper than Thailand. Fields lays are mostly 3000 BF+500 tip+300 drinks @ 47 pesos per $1 = $85; Perimeter 2000BF+500tip+300 drinks+100 trike= $55; 1500 all in =$30 for Raymond Street & Fields freelancers.
Those numbers, of course, do not take into account the CHARITY that is inevitable when you have 20+ Angeles City women pursuing you day and night on Facebook and in person. And that is where it equals out. Nobody in Thailand is asking me to help with a hospital bill, or to get paperwork for a better job, or to help with school supplies. That’s all AC and—for me—it makes getting laid there equally expensive as Bangkok--$300 per day.
Not all Angeles chicks are drama cases. Rochelle has the same 5-foot, 100-pound body as when we first met 5 years ago. Sex is better than ever with that dirty mouth of hers. No drama and just lovely, nasty sex.
FREELANCERS:
Street chicks rule. Always been more attracted here, all the way back to Costa Rica in the 90’s, then Mayorista or Calle 53/De Grieff in Medellin. Performance-wise, freelancers always seem to top Fields’ club chicks. This trip was a great year for Angeles street chicks. Just had wilder, more memorable times. Crazy photo sessions; crazy food sessions; watching movies together…they are a gas.
Lots of talent on the street. That said, it was made clear to me this year more than any other year before just how dangerous it is to handle this merchandise if you let your guard down. More on this later.
JHOI AND JENNY: Were both nasty freelancers last year. Facebook pals, I say ok let’s meet—they show up both 8 months pregnant! Both need an ultrasound and basic blood tests for the babies’ sakes and they don’t have the money. Enter Pauly Vegas the philanthropist, giving each 30 bucks to cover the ultrasound. Gave Jhoi a few bucks more than that because she’s sweet and not demanding, like Jenny turned out to be. No fucking here and cash expenditure—it wouldn’t be the only time.
LESLIE: She will figure into this trip report in much greater detail later. Suffice to say she is the smoking newbie. Wow, what a hottie. 18, 2% body fat. Ultimate spinner. Hit and run savage fucking. That said, I’d advise you to lay off if you meet up with her. There are…concerns. More later.
LARA: Her looks are gone. She’s out of the biz, now working in a restaurant. 160 pesos for a 12-hour shift. Yeah, that’s about .30 cents an hour. In 90-degree heat, every day. I’d put a gun to my head, swear to Christ. She couldn’t afford rent on her pad—which is 25 bucks! The landlord confiscated her stuff. She was sleeping on a friend’s floor. What was I going to do, not give it to her? Gave her two months’ rent , plus bought her a to-go meal and sent her on her way. Little did I know that my old friend Lara, when I hit the john, would pocket my Canon camera and about 1000 pesos in cash from my wallet. Stupid treacherous bitch, you forgot to take the power chord so the camera can be resold. While you’re at it, Dumbo, the credit card in the wallet was worth 100 times what the chump change was worth. If you’re gonna rob someone, do it right. Had worse betrayals but this was cold just two days in. Had to spend $120 to buy another Canon.
GIRLIE, LYKA & TANYA
They’re a unit now. Package deal. It induces laughter to think all 3 together don’t cost what a Cowboy 2 coyote dancer costs. And what you get back is…? How about the greatest fashion show in history that turned my room upside-down. A selfie orgy! Wigs, boas, schoolgirl outfits, 6 inch heels. Crazy chaos. Buy them dinner and not enough seats but that’s ok they sink to the floor and just chow down on Sinigang soup and fried chicken. They can’t afford meals like this and are engrossed watching World War Z on my computer. So I’m like—OK, how are we gonna do this? By that point it was so late and me wiped out and fucked out, I tell G and L to just take off, getting naked with Goddess Tanya so I can lick every inch of her 20-year-old body. The skin on this girl is like, like… porpoise skin? Like a water balloon. The tightness. Still can’t get into her! Same problem as last year, too small. But it’s SOOOOO not all about the fucking! The whole night cost me a C-note. You ain’t getting this experience at Nana for a two-hour rental, you just ain’t.
JENNIFER BRINGS TWO FRIENDS
Jennifer is 8 months pregnant and knows I’m not fucking her this trip. After she milks me for ultrasound money she continuously sends me pics of friends she wants to bring (for a small commission). Fine, bring them. If we boom boom it’s 1500 for them, 500 to you. If no boom boom, 500 to everybody, ok? They show up. I know right off I’m not fucking any of them. They came so far and are so broke, I offer to buy them lunch (plus the 500 each for NOT fucking them). They order one meal between the 3 of them and I say WTF and they say they are embarrassed and I say fucking order one meal each PLEASE. I can’t handle the daily poverty! They greedily eat good hotel food and the bill is like $15 bucks, plus the 1500($30) = $45 bucks to chicks I’m not gonna fuck. Chalk it up to experience again.
THE ROSE SISTERS:
One is Mary Rose, the other is Rose May or something. One is 20, the other 19 and a virgin. Introduced by Luz, who though has drug-issues has been a decent friend and lay for me for several years. Amazing night. Face down and out of it at 8:20pm (as was often the case when I didn’t get my afternoon nap) I forgot to unplug the phone (now certainly a necessity for me in Angeles) when the Booty Phone rings. I usually ignore it (as it’s a chick without an appointment and I can’t…I just can’t!) Pick it up and for whatever reason say OK, send her in. The desk didn’t tell me Luz would bring these two with her. Wow and her sister Wow… And it begins anew—fun with the toys, particular the guitar and superstar glasses, the humping hound, repeater monkey, Furby, then the silly string and party poppers, then break out the clothes and we have an orgy of Selfies (Selfies help me cause while they want a picture of themselves with a blonde wig and Superstar Lady Gaga glasses, I’m taking pics as they are doing so, so…) Let’s get down to cases. Being as Rose Marie is a virgin, I’ll start with her (no funny business, just kissing and touching, then the other Rose can come in the clean-up spot and…clean up!) “Doing it” with a cherry girl is something I’ve tried on a couple of occasions. It’s always super sexy to see how far she’ll let me go. This time hot kissing, full body and pussy licking, BJ…worth $30 bucks? Y’think? The other Rose then comes in and it, too, is hot and heavy. Yum!
MANILA ASHLEY:
Buying everyone in town and their dog lunch, I’m out of dough by 6pm again. The plan was to just scout clubs for talent this night. Head out to Fields when I see Leslie. She’s with a hot friend and it seems an obvious play to ask them home but I say no, going to be fiscally responsible tonight, though I do run home to grab photos for her. Come back out and hit Fields again, when, seconds later, I run into the Rose Sisters. Well, hello to you two! What’s a virgin doing on Fields at this time of night? They giggle. I run back to the house and get the photos of Rose and sis. I promise to see them soon and move away. Make it no further than 10 more steps when I see Ashley. Blonde spinner. 20, maybe. 4-11, 90 pounds, backwards baseball cap and cut t-shirt. Oh, hello! She’s in town from Manila, just looking for some fun. Well how about you come back to the humble abode of one Pauly Vegas and we discuss the philosophy of Freddy Nietzsche? She’s down for it, couple signals to her friends and she’s heading back to my pad. What a country! The RANDOMNESS of Angeles, stuff happens here that never happens in Medellin.
ROSE AND DARLENE:
Luz introduced me to Rose. Rose introduces me to Darlene. Formerly at Camelot, she is smoking sexy. Got Rose photos already so it’s mostly Darlene’s turn today. Fully into it. Still can’t believe I’m going to fuck both for $60 bucks. Good luck finding value like that in Bangkok. We get down to the what-now part and it’s gonna be Rose first, then Darlene. Rose must be horny today because she’s got a full-on foul mouth fantasy vocabulary and Pauly Vegas likes! No way Darlene can top that. But she instantly does. Total fucking nympho! Few of them wear me out but this one did. Incredible last lay. I scheduled an appointment with both for 10am the next day.
Little did I know that by 10am the next day I’d be on a flight to Bangkok.
SANTOS AND RAYMOND STREETS:
Just as I was about to give up, some old favorites showed up. Ended up doing one new girl at Wow Bar on Santos. No new ones on Raymond, but had three of the Old Guard. Gracie is down there working again. She has long since been unfuckable, but years ago was such a sweetheart, I’m happy to buy her lunch anytime. Jane has held up better, yet somehow, I manage to never fuck her. But did get to a couple of old-timers who happened to be working when I was in town…
GERALDINE AND ABBY:
Both have seen better days. Hard to believe once killer Abby is back working on Raymond. On the downside of her looks at 23?! How’s it happen she’s at it again? Lost her sponsor. Some American dude—who for all I know could be reading this—was giving her $1,000 a month plus bought her a small house. But he’s gone now and no cash coming in, so she’s back fucking me for $30. Geraldine’s body is hard as ever but that face is the opposite of the young and fresh look I seek. Still, for old times’ sake we roll around once on the bed. Problem is, as usual, her endless Facebook—“I’m feeling horny Paul, see me today PLLLLEEEASE!” messages. Gets old fast.
FIELDS:
20 feet from my door are 1000+ chicks working in, what, 40+ Fields clubs. It’s why I keep coming here and have pretty much given up on the Medellin scene. I don’t need to become a Lawnmower Man, limiting myself to Facebook contacts like so many mongers there have done. The physical layout of this place, with everything so close, will always beat Medellin’s need to take cabs downtown to the massage places or street scenes. If someone cancels a date with me on FB, I walk one minute to Fields, where even at 3500 pesos per, it’s 1/3rd cheaper than the average Nana fuck.
MELODY: SHIPWRECKED (CH Link)
Everyone giving her such shit for the 20 pounds she put on. So what! Slightly overweight now, still a dynamo in bed. Still at Shipwrecked, working for that leech Daddy Allen. Posed for so many photos, still with a live body and nasty tongue. Recommended.
JESSA: SHIPWRECKED
Another Daddy Allen special. Try to pinch her stomach, go ahead. No fat there. Eating her shaved 18-year-old pussy was like eating oysters covered in Nutella. Champagne-glass natural tits don’t move when she rides you. This is something you want to do before you croak and it’s why nobody in Chi-town has a clue that I’m 59 years old. Ponce de Leon went to Florida looking for the Fountain of Youth. You find it right here, between the legs of a first-week ho from Shipwrecked. P.S: Please don’t forget pinning her against the wall and peeling away the gold negligee while leaving only 6-inch heels as the only thing on her body.
VANESSA: Q-BAR (CH Link)
My cute blonde doorgirl obsession strikes again. Thin, young, no stomach fat, long legs… Check and double-check. And good in the sack. And reasonably fun. She’s not gonna be a Miss Pinatubo finalist when you see her off the heels and out of makeup, but definitely worth a role in the hay. She brought her doorgirl friend and I took them to the pool and later they made a sandwich out of me for half an hour. $90 bucks for 3 hours? Hell yeah!
SPEAKING OF MY BLONDE DOORGIRL THING:
Having checked off blonde Vanessa from QBAR, still a few on my list. Hottie from AFTER DARK (CH Link). Two of ‘em outside BAD BOY (CH Link). Then there’s the blonde at CHAMPAGNE (CH Link). Had a drink with her, ran out of time and didn’t seal the deal. Did finally connect with AFTER DARK killer Rose, who is technically a waitress and easily the hottest in that place. Got there are 6:01pm to lock her up and she started calling me Mr. 6:01—nice one. So-so lay but laying my hands on a Goddess was worth the $80. Love the blonde look and seeing it more often in Angeles. Every last one of them is a fake, isn’t it marvelous?
MASSAGE GIRLS:
2017= The Rise Of The Massage Girl! You used to find these young and fresh ones on Raymond Street. No mas. They are freelancing, running in packs in the alleys in and around Kokomos, plus further up Fields near the 7-11. I get it, the cards they hand out promise massage. The unspoken promise is for a happy ending from these sexy things. But—a hand job? First off, you won’t get me off that way. Second, that’s not enough. If I’m biting, I’m biting, get me? I tried full service last year and broke through with one for 2000. Collected many cards this year, at least six I would have tried if I had stayed longer. Alas, only had time to call one. Scored with her though—2000 again for “full” service. My feeling is this is very much an individual thing with each girl and not encouraged. It’s another aspect to the freelancers available currently.
PERIMETER:
NIKKI AND APPLE- DET 5 (CH Link)
DET 5 gets my award this year for best Perimeter bar, strictly because of these two. I’ll miss Ruby from Banana Peel (it’s not even named Banana Peel anymore) but we gotta move on.
I don’t give Perimeter as much time as I ought to because of my daily female traffic from Facebook and Raymond Street. Still, prospecting one day I walked by Nikki and my feet stopped in place, involuntary. Wow, that’s a solid 7 for sure. Way the fuck out here? She could be the dreaded Coyote Dancer at Golden Nile (CH Link) (oh wait, it’s not Golden Nile any more) but she’s working the door today at DET 5. Drinks, yes please. Long and lean, been there a year so knows the score, a pro. And her cousin Apple just started--18, young and fresh, blonde—right up Pauly V’s alley.
Start with Nikki solo. Great photo session. Model sleek. Now here’s the only bummer: She insists on a rubber. But here’s the good part: If it slips off, she doesn’t notice! She’s so far out in front of the endless 5’s that populate Perimeter. Well worth 2500-500-300-100 = 3400p= $65 bucks.
Apple came with her the second time. With lunch, cost $90 for both. Phenomenal photo sessions. Catwoman outfit. And how am I to describe the flexibility of this 18-year old? Or pinning her arms back in missionary and the deep kisses? Or showering and coming out to find her cousin in a pink bathrobe baring breasts, waiting to fuck that hunka hunka burning love, Pauly Vegas. Life is good, my friends!
CENTRAL PARK BREAKFAST (LIVING THE DREAM, BECAUSE YOU CAN)
Life’s great with a wallet full of money. Big ass American breakfast high atop the Central Park rooftop. 2 Koreans swimming with last night’s pulls, the pool goes right to the building’s edge. Fabulous look out on the shithole that is Angeles. I’m glad Angeles exists. Turning away women almost hourly who would gladly sell me their bodies for $30 each? Just saw 2 at 10am who wanted to do the deed. Nah, c’mon, too early for that, girls. Here’s $5 bucks each, go get breakfast. The poverty works in my favor even though my liberal sensibilities gives the money to them almost as fast as I can reach into my pocket. Redistributing American capital into 3rd World economies is what Pauly Vegas lives for. Quite the humanitarian!
From up here on the Central Park roof we see the Hodge-podge of Angeles. No red tile roofs like Firenze. Nope, this is 3rd World. Corrugated aluminum and cheap plaster hovels. SM Mall in the distance, a single crane like a flamingo perched on one leg, Trike horn beeps in the distance. Waiting on a 4-egg mushroom and cheese omelette, home fries, and coconut smoothie. Tranquility above the insanity. Symbiotic, truly—the generic short and stunted Koreans and these Fields 3K BF’s who fucked the Koreans all night to help put their kids through school, pay the bills, buy a tattoo or shabu or whatever. Injecting, ejaculating Western capital…oops, here’s the eggs…
WHAT TO DO WITH AN HOUR TO KILL IN ANGELES?
Had Girlie, Lyka, and Tanya coming over late so I had an hour to kill. Walk past Wow Bar where Mamasan calls me over to tell me she has a new girl coming in tonight I have to check out. Will do, Mama! Now past the gauntlet of massage girls giving out cards. Young and sweet, a dozen of ‘em. Can’t right now, girls! Into Dollhouse I go, lots of Koreans but tons of chicks, a blonde offers me some potato chips, she’s a 7 for sure. Hard to pass up but I’ve got a date in 40 minutes, so…jot her badge # for later reference. Hit the street, past Q-Bar and wow—look at those two doorgirls! Both available right now but got a date in 30 minutes. Swear to Christ, girls, I’ll be back tomorrow. About to head back home when that leech Daddy Allen from Shipwrecked waves wildly at me. I’m always good for a 200 spot and he’s always good to feed me new talent, like tonight. Wow, hi Jessa, one week in the biz and 2% body fat. Please take my rain check, I’ll be back tomorrow, swear to God, no honestly, tomorrow, promise! Peel off a couple hundred for her. And out the door I go. So that’s what, 5 guaranteed future must-fucks in a hour?
CAN I BRING MY….?
“Boom boom in the zoom zoom room”—Blondie
Donna has a big-tit friend for me. Jennifer wants to cruise by with her two cousins. Cathy is bringing her student sister who has never been with a foreigner…
I’m running 4 Facebook conversations with females at once. I’ve got 7 Facebook messages requesting meetings from girlfriends and hey, should they bring XYZ along?
They all have friends, cousins, sisters who would love to meet me. Send a photo, looks good, ok bring them. This is how the network expands. It’s at the heart of the Facebook/Lawnmower Man experience. Who needs clubs when you got your network? Constant access. In Thailand, there’s LINE; in Philippines it’s…? Don’t have a cellphone and don’t need one. I use the house telephone and have to unplug it 80% of the time. Too much unscheduled action.
But it is this networking, me paying a bit for a finder’s fee, that led me to JOY, and into hot water.
THE (NON) JOY EXPERIENCE, OR HOW I BEAT IT OUT OF DODGE BEFORE THE KNOCK OF THE HAPPY BOYS
Procurer is what she is. Pimp(ess). This trip right out of the gate she found me Leslie, who had a government issued card that passed inspection at Pacific Breeze for being 18 and ½ years old. It was checked by two doorguys and OK’d. Joy got 500 from me AND later 500 from Leslie. Leslie didn’t like that. We exchanged Facebook info and met without Joy the next time- to avoid the Joy tax. Joy didn’t like that much and bullied Leslie, which I didn’t like. I also didn’t like Joy showing up unannounced in front of PB without an appointment to bring me girls I didn’t ask for or want. So what, I’m gonna pull 500 out of my pocket every time you show up? Even if I don’t fuck the girl you bring? I tell Joy to stop bringing chicks, I’m done, and done paying her. Joy doesn’t like this. Then I hear from Leslie that she has to talk to me. “Important. Need to see you…” Then I hear from 3 others than Joy is BAD NEWS. That she has set foreigners up and that I need to watch my ass. So now I’m wondering what the “important news” is from Leslie. And I’m thinking I’m not about to wait for the midnight knock on my door from the local Happy Boys and a 5,000$ extortion offer after being arrested- pay up or live in hell in an Angeles City jail.
So, I bailed. I beat it out of Dodge. Within 24 hours.
Gotta love Pacific Breeze. They stored my shit without questions. Even refunded the 6 nights I earlier booked. Had a driver ready within the hour to take me out of town. I was in Manila by 8pm that night. First flight out in the morning. Paranoia, of course. What’s Joy got on me? Probably nothing. Probably? Leaving nothing to chance.
I left in such a hurry, I forgot my sleep drugs. Not only had the stress of splitting but no sleep in Manila, 2 hours max. Then the PB driver was running an hour late. I called them, desperate. He’d arrive in 40 minutes… maybe. I have to leave in 45! He finally shows, 10 minutes before I have to split. Whole different trip if he came one hour later. I hit the airport. Sitting on that plane like I’m in the movie ARGO, take a breath, wheels up.
Aftermath: Learned via Facebook from Leslie that her important news was that when I told Joy no more money she got the notion to set me up via another girl (but that Leslie WAS 18, which is good news—it means I can go back to Angeles next year). Still, this was a closer call than I ever wanted. I sussed out the bitch’s plan. Gentlemen, GOTTA be careful with the freelancers.
B A N G K O K
INITIAL OVERVIEW IMPRESSIONS FROM A NEWBIE
UPSIDE:
Majestic Grand has spoiled me forever. Great hotel, world class buffet, only three blocks from Nana and steps from Annie’s Soapies.
Food vendors, in a class by themselves. First night I brought back a sampler: corn on the cob, calamari chunks on a stick, chicken legs, fresh-made noodle soup, fresh-made Pad Thai…nothing like these sidewalk vendors in Angeles.
The ladies, the ladies, the ladies. From the first club you step foot into in Nana when you see five 8’s lean and mean dancing when you couldn’t find in Angeles in a full week. Astounding quality if you like them slim (basically the anti-Medellin pumped up look). Clearly and objectively a notch or two hotter than AC rice-eaters. And only steps away from Majestic Grande.
DOWNSIDE:
The heat, the heat, the heat. Like 20 monkeys on your back rubbing your temples with hot sauna towels 24/7. Fuuuuuuuuck this.
The traffic. Worse than even Manila, far worse than anything in Chicago. If you want to get anywhere it has to be factored in—can you get there by Skytrain? Motobiiiiiike is a bit faster but it’s still a major drag, especially combined with the gut-wrenching 90 degree/90 humidity combo which makes a 33(90 degree day) have a “Real Feel of 107. There’s no living in this and I have no idea how they do it. “Oh, you get used to it.” No, I don’t, and won’t. Fuuuuuuuuck that.
The rubber thing. When you fuck with a rubber it’s always about the rubber. The party killer. Ever mechanical, especially with a “checker”.
You’ve got forgetters and checkers. The forgetters get so into the sex they don’t give a shit or notice if it falls off. The checkers make sex all about the rubber. Is it on? All the way? Did it fall off? Stop everything, put it back on. Better keep my hand down there to check at all times. Within 1 minute I know if I’m in with a checker or not. If I am, I just get bored. I lay back and let her adjust and adjust it, making sure every centimeter is covered. Then she gets up to ride and ding ding ding! The dick has shrunk! So now we’re back to her jerking my covered dick and I decide whether I even want to continue or not. I booted out some beautiful women this trip when this happened. Of course my dissatisfaction doesn’t preclude paying the agreed upon 3000 baht. These things happen, you know? What I know is they DON’T happen in Angeles, because 95% of the lays are no rubber.
Lastly, the non-communication thing. Maybe if I took a course, learned their language. And sure, in Pattaya you’ve got a big ex-Pat community, so you could hold a conversation. But it’s a drag with the chicks, all this pigeon English—and that’s if you’re lucky. The Mime game gets old fast.
MAJESTIC GRANDE
Can’t say enough good things about this fabulous 4-star hotel. $75 a day, well worth it. In this town of endless traffic, what a joy to be able to WALK to Nana, just three blocks away. Great sleeping conditions—cold as hell, super quiet, huge bed, tons of pillows. Internet good, TV solid, towels aplenty, safe, and of course just an elevator ride from that damn buffet.
ABOUT THAT BUFFET
World class food in this city puts Angeles to shame. And with the exception of a couple meals, I ate exclusively in the hotel. Once a day, lunch buffet. 600 baht with tips. Staggering food:
Bottomless fresh sushi and peel away fresh shrimp. Prime rib, Moroccan lamb with zucchini and carrots, cream of pumpkin soup, fresh rice noodle soup, Fried river prawns in red curry paste, white chocolate fruit cake, double chocolate mousse, crème Brule---so much for losing weight!
I could live off this brunch and did for 6 straight days.
NANA
I’d spent exactly two nights in Bangkok before this trip. Stopover stuff to and from Pattaya. So, this was exploring a new scene, which hasn’t happened since Phuket a few years ago.
Nana is such an acid trip upon first seeing it. You’d need a Kerouac or Cassidy high on mushrooms to adequately describe the 3-floor, 3-sided temple of sin and guys, I just don’t have the time to write 10,000 words on it. It’s a three side
Walking Street; an all-in-one, all-encompassing Mall of Vice dedicated to every form of femaling and shemaling available. The instant you hit the first club you see the difference in talent from Angeles. In AC, you might get one of these longleans every 3 clubs—quickly snatched up at 7pm by one of the Korean hunting packs. Here there are a half-dozen 7 and 8’s in EVERY club. So sit down, get some eye contact, a smile? Is this someone I want to fuck? Call them down, let’s find out. Drinks. I should order Chang Draft at 80b but hate the taste. Go club soda at 120, hers always brings the bill to 250 or 300 except when you’re in a clip joint like Cowboy 2 where you have to watch your ass and what they order. You’ll look up, not wanting to look like a loser when they ask if their friend can have a drink too. Then you get the bill and it tops 1000. And don’t forget the exchange rate isn’t 47 per any more, it’s 33+.
So no, there’s no comparison on the chicks on a physical basis.
Of course, with the price being 1/3rd higher than AC, they better be hotter. I’ve read some mongers getting them for 2500per short time. They all start at 3000 and very few—in my experience, came off that. Then the BF depending on joint is somewhere between 700-1,500 for the infamous Coyote Dancers. Add the drinks you’re looking at 3000-1000-300= 4300 @ 34 per dollar = $125 per for ST.
8’s, everywhere. Early on I take locations, badge numbers for later use. It’s all available with a wallet full of money.
Officially the action starts at 9, but various clubs crank it up sooner, 8:30ish. Get there early before the Korean horde grabs the 8’s.
Took some time for my monger clock to get into the Nana rhythm of 9 and 12 for the lays. Would crash at 2 with the sleep drugs. No early rising around here. I’d rise at the aristocratic hour of 11am, just in time for the world-class buffet gorge at noon. Talk about starting the day off right…
TRIED THE TOURIST THING
Jumped in a taxi—wrong!—and tried to hit 3 sites on the map. Before you get here you need to understand the Skytrain system and how you can get CLOSE to your destination, then take a motorbike for the final mile or so. Took 3 hours to go 7 kilometers round trip—Royal Palace, Wat Pho, then the Floating Marketplace. Only made it to Wat Pho, Palace was closed. Stood in traffic another 45 minutes getting home. Looks like I wouldn’t be making the Bridge Over The River Kwai after all.
FIRST TIME, LAST TIME
Only a newbie jump into a cab at 5:30pm and ask to be taken to the Soi 24 massage joints. First off, traffic. Secondly, traffic. Third, the Skytrain. 3 stops for me at Majestic Grande/Nana area. Have I mentioned the traffic enough? 45 minutes to get there. So much easier with the Skytrain—IF you happen to have the good health to get up and down those stairs in 90 Celsius/107 Real Feel.
SOI 24
Sure, it’s a decent option (only option without a FB network) for daytime. It’s not fucking cheap and the girls aren’t the longleans of Nana. Over here they are MUSCULAR, pushing their bodies against flabby gringos 4 and 5 times A DAY. 102 Club seemed to have the best lineup. The girl I selected there had just come back from her 7th trip out of the country that year. Sponsored all the way. Apparently lots of appreciative customers willing to pay thousands for her company. The personal nature of body to body massage is kind of an illusion when you realize at 4pm you’re her 3rd guy of the day. It’s just a job. They make good bread though. Did two here and the whole soapie thing was new enough to make it worthwhile, but aside from the first encounter at Annie’s with CLUCK, pretty forgettable.
BEST LOCATIONS/BEST LAYS
Billboard (CH Link) wins the prize, easy. BF’d 4 chicks out of here including 3 out of the jacuzzi pit. There are 10 spinners in that pit at any one time. I couldn’t find 10 spinners in my last Medellin trip in 10 DAYS. Best were…
Snack…Soi Cowboy…Dollhouse…#57 (CH Link)
Annie’s…Cluck…#44 (CH Link)
Gift…Nana…Billboard…#773
Dream…Nana…Billboard…#771
ANNIE’S/CLUCK
Right across the street from MG! That alone is to die for. The lineup is so so but I walked in there first time to find Cluck (she made a sound like that and said that was her name, so…). What a session! Do yourself a favor and find #44. Went back twice and she wasn’t there, alas. First, the jacuizzi wash down, kissing the whole time. Then she unrolls a mat in a separate area and begins going body to body, on my back first, then my front. Up and back and kiss, up and back and kiss. Then back in the tub and kissing continues along with a BBBJ, niiiiice. She was humming the whole time as we wash off and before bed we stop off in front of the mirror and more intimacy. The bed fuck was all rubber and she was a checker but it didn’t matter. Rode me for about 20 minutes. Kept saying “so nice,” over and over, hypnotic. I’ll always remember this first soapy. The other two I had didn’t come close. And speaking of Cluck…
GREATEST NAMES EVER
What a trip for great names! Where to start? Cluck…Ploy…Sprite…Snack… Soda…Gift…Mew & Meow…ending with Dream.
PHOTOS
Dropped off the map the minute I left AC. Here, it’s not a given. Why? Because it’s a SELLER’S MARKET. They’re simply not in the same financial need as Fields freelancers or bargirls. If you say photos or no barfine they’ll laugh and let you split. Because there’s a train of Koreans coming through the door in fifteen minutes and they’re gonna make their 3000 tonight plus tons of drink money.
You have to get lucky on the photos. I brought some of my AC stuff—the big funny glasses, stuffed snake, party poppers, bunny ears. By the by-they love bunny ears! Not so hot on the two vibrators I brought. 8 in 10 said no thanks and there’s no arguing with that.
So, overall, other than the good AC stuff, probably an off year on my photos.
THE RATE
I was getting 33.40-33.60 most of the trip. Bring bills that are perfect guys, they will reject them. I brought $10,000 in cash so to avoid my bank’s 3% international charge. Dollar got weaker the longer I was here.
CHECKERS AND FORGETTORS—QUALITY OF LAYS, OR I SPENT $420 TODAY AND GOT REASONABLY LAID
Was in town two days before the first chick allowed a kiss.
Photos? Nah, don’t think so.
Rubber? Oh yes. Every single time.
But so what… Even if you can’t feel the fuck, you’re eating the shaved pussy of a 20- year old! Who is doing that back home in Rahmville? Laying hands on a belly with zero fat, kissing every inch of that body. She feels like a dolphin.
Two categories on the women vis-a-vis rubbers and you just never know. That’s not something that can be asked in the interview, is it? Do you get into and don’t look down to see if the rubber come off?
That’s why the quality of my trip lays seriously diverse. Had one for the books as my last in town with a girl named Dream. That was merciful of the Gods after some of the other BS that went down.
First soapie was spectacular, last two not so.
First Soi Cowboy girl was kind of a rip-off, second one #57 from Dollhouse was stellar.
THE NANA HUSTLE-MERCENARY SOULS
“It’s really just a question of your honesty, your honesty.” Rush
The blonde at Lollipop was a classic. Tried her several times after seeing her the first night when I was trashed and couldn’t take her. Kept trying to arrange it and they kept saying have a drink, she’s coming. Waited 40 minutes for her to show. She barely made eye contact on arriving. Mercenary spirit on this 8. Then she says she has a customer already waiting and the waiter turns to me, “oh well, sorry…” Bye baby, stay blonde, stay 24 inch-waisted cause your soul is mercenary.
BLONDE WITH HAIR TO HER ASS
Holding a card for London Calling up front at Nana, promoting. I follow her back and request a drink with her. Stone cold goddess. Sit for drinks and her friend joins us. One for the friend? Great psychological ploy—want to bed this check and don’t want to look like a Cheap Charlie. Sure, a drink for the friend, why not! Boom, your bill goes from 300 to 600 or more.
It was some time before I learned to say NO, no drinks for the waitress, for the friend, for anyone but you baby and if you have an issue with that and it will affect your performance in bed tell me now and I’ll split and leave you to Korea Joe. So we’re drinking and I say barfine and she says oh, I don’t barfine. Ah, funny you didn’t tell me that before the drink order. How about one photo? Sure, for 500 baht. Pay the bill and split. Mercenary soul.
Then there was the one I bought a drink for who jumped right back on stage. Huh? Or the one who bought that tiny tequila shot, knocks it back, says she’s gotta do a drink with another guy and will come back—but never does. Then you see her the next night and she just smiles about it.
Or the hundreds of chicks you don’t want to fuck who join you anyway and press you hard for drinks.
Or the one who—when you say you need photos--gets up and splits just that simple because it’s a seller’s market and this isn’t desperation for her.
It actually became a tell—if the first thing she does upon coming down is request a drink for her AND her friend--have the will to split that 8, because she’s probably mercenary.
THE LEARNING CURVE
Can’t “need” it. See the 8 in front of you, but let her come to you. Need it less. Interview better. Vet better. Mentality can’t be “Oh my god, look at her! I have to fuck that, whatever it takes!” No drinks before I know she barfines. Does she kiss? Are photos ok? No drinks for friends or the waitress. Stop pursuing it, let it come to you. Funny how when you get them out of the neon light, down from the stage, away from the pulsing EDM music—they’re pretty much the same skinny little body. “All cats are grey in the dark”—Ben Franklin.
SKYTRAIN
English spoken on the train PA, air-conditioned, .33 cents to get me to Soi 24-hell yeah! You hardly notice the traffic hell below you. Downside? How about some escalators guys? In 107 heat? I’m piggy sweating in 10 steps. And maybe a few more lines, like in London or Paris so I can actually GET to some of these tourist destinations without spending hours in a cab?
OTHER STUFF
I’d fuck half the club at $50 a pop. But for $125?
Seriously, look at the piece of sushi, or that bite-size cake. There are four layers to it! ARTISTRY, plain and simple. What a shame I have to eat everything in sight. Pauly Vegas eats everything, everything he can…
Speaking of eating, like to watch them eat outside the club before their shift. No makeup or heels or EDM music or neon lights. Wow, they’re actually kinda…the same. Skinny chickens.
The mesmerizing effect of the music/lights/grind over your head. Slow dancing…Jack Kerouac, where are you? Describe the hypnosis that seems somehow embryonic and like life itself passing before your eyes. Just don’t have the time, guys.
Hey, how about that, there’s an elevator to the right as you come in at Nana! Learning curve.
THE BANGKOK ROUTINE
Nice to be able to blow $350 a day, isn’t it?
Wake at 10:30. Shower and shaved by 11:30. Buffet by 12. Annie’s or Skytrain to Soi 24 at 2. Back by 4, decompress with A/C. Download photos, emails. Head downstairs to BS with the old time piano player in the lobby. 8pm, prep for Nana. 8:30 out the door. Quick drink, watch the girls arrive. 9pm, Witching Hour, Lay 1. 12 midnight, Lay 2. Crash at 2am.
I’ll be back, Bangkok. I could never live here, but 8 days? Oh yes, more, thank you!
P A T T A Y A
WELCOME BACK!
Nice to be here again after a couple years absence. As much a stranger to Bangkok as I was, I know this place pretty well. Muscle memory as I’m staying at the same joint. Used to be a Pattaya Bay Resort guy but they’re still building an upgrade there. Two years ago, I was at the Ozo, right next door. Now it’s Premiere Inn. Fucking LOVE the location! Walking distance to Soi Buakhao, Walking Street, short baht bus to Soi 6. Perfectly centered.
After MG in Bangkok, this $30 a night joint can’t compete. But it’s a reasonable option that I give a B rating. They gave me 425, room at the end of the hall for quiet. Good AC plus location. Issues? A constant knocking from somewhere, the piece of shit plastic chairs that hurt my back and nowhere to write. Much smaller, low rent but it does the trick. Also, they got rid of the Ozo pimping policy of taking a commission on every woman I brought back. Recommended.
IS THIS THE 3rd ACT PLACE?
59 and if Social Security survives Trump and the Congressional Righties, I’ll have a choice to make. Soon. I could see settling down in Pattaya. It’s Atlantic City sexed up. That absurdity of life on display. Never know what you’re gonna find. Look at Soi 13/1—do my laundry at the “Porn Laundry”. Further down the street the boys watch rugby from Australia sipping 50 baht Chang drafts and yeah, it’s 11 am. Push down further and you’ll find some daytime trannies primping makeup next to the 38,309th massage joint with 6 girls holding rate cards for different massages, most with optional “happy endings”. Lastly, get to Beach Road and there’s the water—because as opposed to Bangkok—this is a beach culture. It’s a shitty beach to be sure, but it’s a beach. Look at all the hustlers across the way, straight and tranny, looking for a bite. Inside this Starbucks it’s a United Nations of fixed income dudes looking for free daytime AC and a place to hit for nearly-free wifi and AC. So many crazy bar names—the Legless Arms, is that still around? Did see My Friend You on Soi 6 and Nervous Wreck and Dog’s Bollacks on 13. The Baht bus is a miracle that gets you anywhere for 10b—TEN! And no traffic—or compared to Bangkok, very little. What a joy.
My friend Gary says he’s living on $1400 a month quite well. I get it—I’m spending $340 a day so that would end, but could I live here? The heat is overwhelming as usual—could I find a small joint for 300-400? Learn to ride a motobiiike, run AC only a night and find a daytime joint to hit the internet, stay out of the late afternoon sun. Hit the more-than-slightly-polluted Jomtein and connect with crazy ex-pats because, as Gary says, this is the place you go to die in style. Gun to my head—where else to live out Act 3? Not in the States? Some Albania beach? Medellin? Gotta figure it out.
The absurdity is also found in the tourist shit you can do, and actually GET to because traffic is manageable. Upside Down House, Srirachi Tiger Farm, Elephant riding, fish foot massage now in the mall right next to my hotel.
Coconut smoothie steps away at the breakfast joint inside the super AC-cooled supermarket. See the same 70+ dude at the coffee bar every day—there you go, Pauly V—you on fixed income, coming up, your Act 3 right there!
Yeah, great Pauly, but how about the chicks?
LK METRO/SOI BUAKHAU:
Talent down a bit this year. Have pulled amazing lays from The Office (CH Link) and on that strip. Just BF’d one from here the whole trip.
BEER BARS:
AC style 5’s for 30% more, price-wise. Why the fuck would I bother?
BEACH ROAD:
Maybe it’s the desperation of not being able to pay $125 for EVERY lay, but I saw more talent here. Went with 2 this trip, including a smoking young blonde further up the strip. Paying 1500B is like stealing after paying 4500 on WS. Give it a look. Take the baht bus and hang off the end on the right side, check them out as they pass.
SOI 6:
Soi 6 to the rescue! In years past I would compare this strip to Raymond Street. Raymond street then had 4 bars pumping out constant cuties. Soi 6 has what, 30 bars? The talent was close in those days. No more. Before this trip I’d done one or two from here, they were just mediocre. This trip, seeing it with new eyes. Barfined 4 from here, Soi 6 the revelation of the trip. Think about it: For 1300-1500 ALL IN I can bring this girl back to my place and fuck her without the piggy sweat for two hours. Big thumbs up.
WALKING STREET:
The longer in the country, the less my need, the more often I would hit this 8th Wonder of the monger world and NOT barfine. It became ok to do that. I needed it to be right. I needed chemistry, or for the Gods to give me a sign. Give me something, girl! Eye contact to start, smile, continued engagement, bring her down, some English, friendly girl, engaged, hugs and seeming to NOT BE A MERCENARY SOUL. Already know it’s costing me $120 so how to make sure it’ll be worth it. Pigeon English and ear-piercing music don’t mix. I’m impatient and want to get out of there fast. Less urgency is best. Remember, when you finally look under the overs back home they’re pretty much the same skinny spinner. If you fuck up on Soi 6 and pick the wrong one, you’re out $30 bucks. Do it here, it’s $125. Bottom line—mixed bag this trip. Some spectacular lays here, some sad ones. Interested in one of them in my photos? Shoot me an email and I’ll try to connect the face and club.
JOMTEIN
Is good enough… good enough?
Look, it’s a beach. And it’s better than Subic! Not exactly Manuel Antonio though, is it? The plastic bag pollution on the shore is off-putting. Golden sand like in Puerto Rico, but what’s the deal with the bullshit washing up on shore? Not to mention the water is fucking hot! Al Gore, global warming—it’s never real ‘til it happens to you. I could also do without the constant vendors selling me everything from a massage to a hand- carved motorcycle. I’m here to UNWIND, guys. So, is this the beach of my retirement?
FOOD STANDS
You have to work really hard to spend 300 baht here. 40b-3 chicken wings on a stick. 40b=2 ears of corn. 60b-large pad thai. 30b-two cokes. 60b-two octopus slices on a stick, 3 grilled pork. Easy to see how you could eat well on less than $10 a day here. Wheeewcuuuuuum!
ABSURD INCONGRUITY
Like I say, there’s an absurdity here. I can wake up and walk a few steps to the Mall to get my fish foot massage which feels like 500 tiny electric razors applied to my toes; then drink my lunch at the Dog’s Bollacks bar on 13/1. Take a motorbike for 80b to Jomtein and hang for the afternoon or tour the Upside-Down house. Wash off and head to Starbucks for free wifi and AC, then down to Soi 6 for a quickie, grab dinner from the street vendors for $5, rest up for a night score on Beach Road or just watch the hustlers go by. Speaking of hustlers…
SRIRACHA TIGER FARM
Man, do the animals hustle food from ya! I like feeding the spotted fish, and the baby tiger, and the camels, and the lambs… The pig race rules, and the schmaltzy elephant show (when the flies aren’t eating my legs and leaving bullseye marks that last weeks) crocodile show, tiger show, it’s all touristy and fun. Oh, and I’m off pork again. Look at the conditions of those fucking animals. Love that pig race and when he rides the really fat one, but I’m not eating that thing.
HILTON BUFFET
Ate here almost exclusively last 4 days. Rivals Majestic Grand for sure. Some samples: Chicken masala, endless shrimp and sushi bar, ice cream and chocolate syrup, fresh waffles… so much for the diet!
The Sunday brunch costs twice as much and delivers an unconscious display of food: oysters, lobster tail, unlimited shrimp and sushi, salmon slices, cheese plate of brie, Swiss and cheddar; grilled shrimp, lamb chops, chocolate mousse, freshly made waffles and cream. Oh my!
AMAZING DAY
I won't torture you about my day--ok, maybe I will. Started getting out of bed leisurely at 11am. Off to the world-class Hilton buffet for lunch. Fresh sushi, fresh noodle soup, chicken marsala, homemade bread pudding was some of what I consumed at a cost with generous tip of 900baht, $28 bucks. On to rent a MOTOBIIIIIIIIIKE, 90 minutes there and back costing 500 baht, $17 bucks (what would driving in a NYC taxi cost for 90 minutes?) There was the Upside-Down house and the driver went in with me for schmaltzy tourist photos. The best part was on the way back, pulled an improve and we hit the Floating Marketplace. Next door was the Swiss Sheep Farm and Honky Tonky Moto-Bike course (yes, you can do that here without a license). Chose the Floating Marketplace but had the bad fortune of being behind yet another busload of lemming-like, locust-like Korean tourists. Couldn't get a ticket and was about to split when I happened upon a Thai Horror House! Oh, fuck yeah, I'm in! Joint was amazing low-tech, low-budget. Classic! (got some on camera). Then sprinting back at 5pm, the MOTOBIIIIIIIKE driver dropped me at Soi 6, which was just opening up at 5pm. 25 or so bars with 500 or so women. Found an absolutely angelic 21-year old who looks ---. Back home to sweet nastiness. Tip her 50% on top of what the bill was (because I trained to say those nasty things which none of the others have done so far). See you at 3, babe. She wants to know what babe means. I'll tell you tomorrow. Go take shower, go back to bar, Mamasan not happy if you late. Off she goes, good thing too, I need a second helping of that (at half the cost of a Walking Street chick) so head back, many of the good ones already snatched up (god knows how many dicks enter these women on a daily basis). About to split home when I saw a devastating body--no tits at all, all legs, mag... yes yes, I know you sexy lady I tip you, be nice to Pauly Vegas okkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk? She was nice, though the room had no A/C. Take motorbike back home, limp upstairs, crash.
ODDS AND ENDS
Gave 100 to that girl in Glass House to kiss her stomach. I mean it’s a minor miracle. There is nothing to pinch! I have more fat in my neck than she has in her entire body.
Peppermint (CH Link), Living Dolls (CH Link), Happy a go-go (CH Link), Shark (CH Link), Dollhouse (CH Link), Baccara (CH Link)…lots of candidates. Dozens at $50 per. At $125 per? Different story. Was gonna walk away from one when she brought a wet towel over to help my perpetual pig sweat. Sold me right there. Brought her back for more bunny ear photos. Have a mentioned they love bunny ears? Bring some.
God I love hanging off the end of the baht bus! Beautiful sunset passing in palm mystery.
How on earth does this city support 48,937 massage joints. With 6 people working in each?
Where did that condom go? It slipped off my dick but it’s not in the bed and you swear it’s not in your pussy, sooooooo?
Walk into Taboo (CH Link) and get bushwhacked. So often there are too many tools in the clubs and I feel like chopped liver, no attention given. Walk in here and two door girls are on me immediately plus a hot dancer. They are grinding on both legs and I can’t choose. Nice to be the only guy in the joint. Flip a coin. Pick the spinner named My and…oh my! Got a picture of her in the catsuit. So few agreed to wear it here.
Nighthawks At The Diner, Thai style. Christmas lights in June, cheap pink neon, three old geezers sipping tiger bottles looking out from the bar railing as the day passes yet again. What do you they ponder as their days dwindle? Contemplating… what?
Emerald Club Sign: “50 gorgeous girls and a few ugly one’s too.”—yep, the apostrophe is there. I pointed out that the apostrophe grammatically shouldn’t be there to the doorguy cause, you know, I’m a teacher. He didn’t much care.
Jesus Christ, laundries in Pattaya--why are you
killing me with that DETERGENT SMELL?! Yes, please, I want “No smewl”. VIP treatment!
7:30 pm at SOI 6, quite the sight. Pink neon, all in a row. All those cuties in cutie uniforms. I mean, look at that!
Love taking the motobiiiiiike from WS to the hotel. Three of us on one bike, oh yes, me last, hands around her waist. Look at that, no more than 5 inches separate my thumbs! Halfway into the ride, if she turns to give me a quick kiss, the lay will be good. Blonde hair blowing in my face, the perfume. Never forget…
Why does the tourist in me respond when EVERY GIRL IN EVERY MASSAGE JOINT IN TOWN says Welcummmmmmmm! Cause they’re so friendly and I feel guilty and feel the need to respond. But you really can’t. How many times do you think a massage girl says weeeeeelcum every day?
Indian restaurant, bar, massage joint, pharmacy, massage joint, laundry, bar, massage joint…
Bought my Shark club goddess some chicken last night. Didn’t BF her again though…hmmm.
All the oldsters. I don’t drink. How do I pass the time when I only have $40 bucks to spend the whole day?
HERE’S HOW I LEFT PATTAYA
Up at 10, showered and packed by 11, checked out at 12, Mr. Toom waiting, puts my bags into the car as I head down to the Hilton for one last buffet. Coming back, hanging off the back of a baht bus for 10b to get back to 13/1, then up through the mall for a super quick fish foot massage, to the car and outta here, Jeeves!
HERE’S HOW I LEFT BANGKOK
Pulled into town about 3:30 on my last day. Unpack at MG again for one night by 4. Head over to Annie’s. Bummer. Cluck, 44, not there. Bye Cluck, you were great. Pig sweat again as I grab the Skytrain to Soi 24. Korean beats me to a spinner at 102 Club (CH Link) by 10 seconds. Upon further review, she’s got some fat on the back of those legs. I grab a powerful one and it’s fun but not $80 bucks of fun. Damnit Cluck, where were you?
Schlepp home in 107 real feel heat, fuck this weather. Cloister myself in my AC sanctuary/room until 8:30 when I meet Buick from Club Hombre. He gives me the lowdown on Bangkok from his considerable years here(thanks, man!) We head up to Mandarin and grab a drink. Then I’m off to Billboard, my #1 this trip. Looking for #773(my home phone code). She’s not there either. The fuck?! The mamasan recognizes me and comes over. She should, I’ve done 3 out of here already. She says try 771. A clone of 773, I say what the fuck and bring her down. Cutie is grinding on me right off, the usual 6-inch tattoo covering her back. Her skin…HER SKIN! Fine, drinks and one for you mamasan. This girl is quite horny mamasan sez and I say what the fuck, let’s do it. The bar bill is 900 and mamasan wants a tip on top of that. No mamasan, uncool, I’m a lowly teacher, not a bank. Off we go. This Billboard girl turns into one of the best of the trip and yes, her name was Dream. And for the first time in this country—at the moment of truth with dick at the entrance—the terrible word “condom” wass NOT uttered. Wow! Unchained, we go around the horn twice.
Sometimes the Gods are merciful.
Bye, Land Of Smiles.
Photos: Martial Law 01 02
Photos: Martial Law 03 04 05
Photos: Martial Law 06 07 08
Photos: Martial Law 09 10 11 12
Photos: Martial Law 13 14 15 16
Photos: Martial Law 17 18 19
Photos: Martial Law 20 21 22
Photos: Martial Law 23 24 25 26
Photos: Martial Law 27 28 29
Photos: Martial Law 30 31 32
Photos: Martial Law 33 34 35 36
Photos: Martial Law 37 38 39
Photos: Martial Law 40 41 42
Photos: Martial Law 43 44 45
