Yesterday I was feeling pretty down, not helped by some pretty moronic comments that a few people decided to make on my blog.
Why people get pleasure out of insulting others is totally beyond me. All I can say is that if I am a fucking jerk, a fucking loser, a stalker, a person who demeans women and so on, then the people who post such comments are even lower down in the depths of human garbage than I am.
Since when is it a crime to try and find out what your wife is up to when you are still cohabitating with her, or to go and find out what your ex girl friend is up to after she walked out on you for no good reason?
Stalking? I think not. Yes I used the word ‘stalking’ in my blog but for anyone to take it literally just shows what a fucking toss pot they must be. (I’ve got that off my chest now).
As for drink driving – well a lot has been written about this in my blog. I totally accept that it is wrong. I feel terrible that I have done it and have tried my best and am continuing to try my best to do something about it.
Attacking me is preaching to the converted. What about all those thousands of farangs and millions of Thais who couldn’t give a fuck who they kill when they are drunk? Target them, not me.
Right now I am not drinking so the subject is off the agenda.
Last night, as I felt so down, I decided to go out and demean a few women, as I thought it might cheer me up.
My first port of call was a bar on 3rd Road which I hadn’t been to in many months. Some of the girls there recognised me and one particularly lovely, sexy coyote dancer came over to say hello and sat down at the table next to me.
I could tell that she was waiting for me to demean her, but I resisted for quite a while. In the end I gave in and demeaned her by burying her a drink, whereupon I demeaned her even more by letting her wiggle her semi naked arse against my crotch.
Then I demeaned her with a second drink and let her demean herself even more by putting her arms around me and kissing me. She begged me to demean her even further by paying a bar fine and taking her home, but I decided she had been demeaned quite enough for one day and politely declined.
I did however demean her a little bit more by leaving her a generous tip before departing.
Thence to a go-go bar in Soi Bukow.
A pretty little waitress sat down next to me and asked me about my broken wrist and she told me she had recently broken her forearm, and we shared humorous stories of how hard it is to shower, clean one’s arse and generally get on with life with only one hand. I knew she wanted to be demeaned with a drink, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. She was too nice.
As there weren’t any other girls queuing up to be demeaned by the famous Mobi, I paid my bill and left.
I had heard that the number of punters in Walking Street was at dire levels, so thought it might be an idea to make one of my rare forays down there and check it out for myself.
The first familiar bar I went to was in the throes of a noisy brawl between some drunken, naked female dancers (who had obviously been over-demeaned) and some even more drunken farangs – English I would assume judging from their football shirts.
It was a regular riot and no one was interested in Mobi demeaning them so I moved on to another of my occasional ‘regulars’ bars. (a contradiction in terms, but what the….).
Sure enough, the place was full of lovely dancing girls, some of whom were demeaning each other with soap suds whips and other demeaning instruments, but the place was totally devoid of customers.
These lovely girls were desperate to be demeaned, so what else could I do but oblige their wicked yearnings?
Actually it all started when they decided to demean Mobi. I was horrified! How dare these young, naked, near-virgins do nasty things with their hands and other parts of their body to this fine, upstanding example of an English gentleman?
And I hadn’t even demeaned them with a drink.
Well I was outnumbered and I clearly wouldn’t be allowed to escape without doing a bit of demeaning, so I spread a little of it around – five in all and we all had a wonderful demeaning, degrading, debasing, humiliating party.
Much dancing, massaging, body touching and other demeaning activities ensued and we had a riot.
It was 3.30 and I was saved by the bell.
More demeaning tips to the five lovely ladies and I made my way homewards.
Sober, but definitely uplifted by my heavy night of demeaning-ture. (new word).
I took a Xanax and slept from 4 a.m. till around 11 a.m.
Feel about 50% better today and I worked on my 4th step resentment list and then went out to get my pc fixed.