Thundery Nights and a Sunny Days out by a Lakeside of Happy Hookers and Sad, Pot-Bellied Punters…


4 Months, 28 Days – still sober

What Mobi did

Well my heart was in the right place but yesterday my day didn’t turn out completely as intended.

I had to go into Pattaya to make my 90 day immigration report, so after this, I drove out to Huay Yai to meet up with an old friend at his beautiful house, way out near a golf course.

We spent a few hours exchanging movies and other stuff that we had downloaded, and around mid-afternoon I headed on back to the lake and met up with another friend who had just returned from his month long shift offshore. I drank a few mugs of tea while we caught up on all the news and gossip. Then around 5.30 another friend, Rick, showed up and the chat continued apace.

Eventually, it was time for my offshore friend to return home to his newly wedded beloved, so Rick and I decided to adjourn to the Church for a few prayers. Now, Rick had already told me that the Church had been abandoned by the entire female choir so I wasn’t anticipating any hanky panky with the opposite sex. No, this was definitely going to be one day when I would keep my hands and private parts to myself and would return home to the lovely Noo, completely unsullied. My resolve was strong.


To our consternation and surprise, we arrived at the Church only to find the gates bolted and barred and the lights off – the vicars all gone home. What was going on, only the dear lord himself would know, but for us – two abandoned members of the flock – our hearts were in turmoil!

What to do? Suddenly on the spur of the moment, given that we were in the immediate vicinity, I suggested one of my favourite little places, off Nern Plub wan – the one where the whoreist little whore in whoreland hails from, (see my blog of 19th May; whoriest little whore).

I wasn’t expecting much at that time of the evening and was planning to continue chatting to Rick over a beer (for him) and a coke (for me), but as soon as I parked up, my resolve started to dissolve. Who was once again sitting on the stoop outside the front door? None other than the gorgeous Geng, dressed this time in an extremely sensuous, figure hugging, bright red mini-dress, revealing flimsy matching red knickers beneath her lovely bottom as she sat, knees akimbo on the concrete step.

As soon as she saw me, whopped in delight and grabbed my hand, leading me inside to the waiting bar. As on the two previous occasions, she was all over me, losing no time in unzipping my dark, hairy aperture while at the same time, leading my hand down the back of her nickers, under her butt and into her waiting, deliciously wet, yum yum. She squealed in ecstasy as she prostrated herself across two bar stools and exhorted me to do my worst.


Dear oh dear! This is not at all what I had been planning! But needs must and I did my best to ‘pleasure her’ while taking a quick ‘butchers’ around the bar to see who else was ‘on duty’ that evening. My eyes landed on another young lady who I had known from a previous visit, who also might have qualified as the whoriest whore, had not the one I was rogering, already stolen the title.

Anyway, the more I looked at this second vision of sexuality and beauty, and the more she flashed her evil, seductive smile in my destruction, the more I was determined to have a closer look.

What Mobi wants, Mobi gets, so Lak, the second hooker, took up  her place to the left of me and I immediately became ‘hand-less’. There was something about Lak’s face and body that totally turned me on. She wasn’t a particularly small or delicate lady, but there again neither was Geng, but she had one of those glorious faces that just makes your knees go to putty and her body was curvy and young, with smooth, tight brown skin and her yum yum was every bit as wet and juicy as Geng’s. And there was no doubt that she was every bit as horny as her fellow whore.


I suffered about an hour of this torture, when a bit of  common sense and a feeling of guilt started to permeate my sex-crazed mind. This was no good at all. I must use all my will power and get out of this place and back home to my lovely, faithful little Noo who would be waiting so patiently for my return.

So with not a little difficulty, I succeeded in extracting myself from these two horny lovelies, but not before the ravishing Lak had deep throated me in the most unbelievable fashion.

Back at the ranch,  Noo welcomed me with her usual lovely smile, and I felt pretty bad. I spent the rest of the evening in Noo’s company, watching TV and cuddling her close to me, continually assuring her of my love and that I would never leave her. Anyway, Rome wasn’t build in a day’ and I have confidence that I can improve on this performance in the days and weeks to come.


A meeting with Dang – my estranged wife

Dang, my estranged wife, has opened a hair dressing salon on the Darkside, about 4 kilometers from where I live. After initially employing a girl to do all the work, while she went out and got drunk every night and turned up at the shop in the afternoons, for the past month or so she has been going it alone;  so far seems to have been more successful as not only has she eliminated her wage bill, she has also got rid of staff fraud – all in one fell swoop!! Good luck to her – the more she is able to stand on her own two feet the less likely it is that she will come after me for increased maintenance.

I have heard from a few sources that she has a farang boyfriend, but whether it is a boyfriend or just a sugar daddy from whom she can extract a little honey from time to time is anyone’s guess, and quite frankly, I don’t care. (Except that if she lands herself a really rich one, it could be the saving of both of us…)

We seem to get on these days – polite and solicitous of each other’s welfare on the few occasions we meet, and we are able to discuss matters of mutual interest – i.e. our house – in an adult manner and free of rancour. The other day I stopped by her shop and she had some friends with her, who I had known from the old days, plus an aunt from her village, who I had always had a very soft spot for, but hadn’t seen for over 2 years.

I was welcomed by one and all and gave my ex aunt- in- law a big hug and we had a nice little chat. Dang seemed a little ‘down’ and I suggested, in jest, that she might be suffering from a hangover. Her friends and aunt immediately chorused their reply to the effect that, yes, she had been drunk the previous night and was indeed recovering from the after effects.

After concluding the bit of business I had to discuss with Dang, I made ready to depart, whereupon she asked me if I would buy her a cup of coffee. I told her I was on my way to lunch, but she told me that she didn’t want to go with me, she just wanted me to buy a coffee from the coffee shop 2 doors down.

‘Why can’t you buy yourself? You don’t have any customers?

‘You buy it!’

‘Why?’

‘Just do it!’

After all these years in Thailand and interacting with the control freaks that are most Thai women, I knew exactly what this was all about. Of course she could have gone and bought it herself, as she had no doubt done on many previous occasions – or she could have asked one of her friends or her aunt to get it for her. No, this was all about Dang showing her friends and her Aunt that Mobi, her estranged husband would still jump whenever she snapped her fingers.

I was having none of it and told her to buy her own coffee and took off without another word.


It saddens me to say this, and it has taken me a lifetime to accept, but sometimes the worse you treat some Thais, the more they respect you. Show them weakness and they will ‘walk all over you’. And so it was that Dang called me the very next morning, all sweetness and light; anxious to inform me that she had heard there had been some robberies in my neighbourhood and to be careful in leaving my house unattended. All this concern was really her way of letting me know there was no ‘hard feelings’ about the little ‘incident’ of the previous day. If I had understood these women a bit better some 30 years ago, who knows where I might be today?

But not to worry – life ain’t that terrible – here, in paradise.  


Poetry in music

To me Bob Geldorf and the Boomtown Rats are a bit of a ‘One Hit Wonder’, although of course Geldorf went onto fame, fortune and a Knighthood for his tireless work for ‘Live Aid’ and the starving in Africa.

But what a hit! – the incredible, ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’. Even to this day, whenever I play the song, it sends shivers down my spine.

According to Geldof, he wrote the song after reading a telex report at Georgia State University’s campus radio station, WRAS, on the shooting spree of 16-year-old Brenda Ann Spencer, who fired at children playing in a school playground at Cleveland Elementary School in San Diego, California on 29 January 1979. She killed two adults and injured eight children and one police officer. Spencer showed no remorse for her crime, and her full explanation for her actions was “I don’t like Mondays; this livens up the day.”

It is a brilliant pop song and full of drama – but what about those inspired, but terrible words? This is a wonderful but shocking poem, if ever there was one.

Interestingly, the song became a huge hit in the UK but virtually died without trace in the USA. The Yanks knew what it was all about and didn’t like it one iota….

I Don’t Like Mondays

The silicon chip inside her head gets switched to overload

And nobody’s gonna go to school today

She’s going to make them stay at home

And daddy doesn’t understand it

He always said she was good as gold

And he can see no reasons, ’cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

I want to shoot the whole day down

The telex machine is kept so clean and it types to a waiting world

And mother feels so shocked

Father’s world is rocked

And their thoughts turn to their own little girl

Sweet 16 ain’t that peachy keen

No, it ain’t so neat to admit defeat

They can see no reasons ’cause there are no reasons

What reasons do you need

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

I want to shoot the whole day down, down, down, shoot it all down

And all the playing has stopped in the playground now

She wants to play with the toys of war

And school’s out early and soon we’ll be learning

That the lesson today is how to die

And then the bullhorn crackles

And the captain cackles with the problems and the hows and whys

And he can see no reasons ’cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to die, die?

And the silicon chip inside her head gets switched to overload

And nobody’s gonna go to school today

She’s going to make them stay at home

Her daddy doesn’t understand it

He always said she was good as gold

And he can see no reasons ’cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to be shown?

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like, I don’t like, (Tell me why?) I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like, I don’t like, (Tell me why?) I don’t like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don’t like Mondays

I want to shoot the whole day down

Here is Bob, singing his most famous song, by a mile: I Don’t Like Mondays

BUTT… BUTT…


5 thoughts on “Thundery Nights and a Sunny Days out by a Lakeside of Happy Hookers and Sad, Pot-Bellied Punters…”

  1. Hey Mobi,
    Enjoying the blog and reports of your gogo bar crawling. I have to say though, could be a dangerous spot, reassuring Noo of your love while almost daily caressing the enjoying the paid attentions of quite a number of the local bg’s.

    If it were me, I’d be careful, the grapevine has a way of growing.

    1. You worry too much.

      If you were over here you would understand that an Issan girl who was working in Pattaya for a mere 18 months and now lives on the Darkside is actually quite isolated from the friends and punters she once worked with.

      If I was still living in my Jomtien Condo, then the risk would be far higher that she would eventually catch me out, but over here, she doesn’t even know where most of my haunts are, let alone anyone who works there. She is not particularly gregarious and only has a few friends – all of whom live and work in Pattaya – a long way from where I tend to ‘operate’.

      Actually she did see me sitting with a girl one day outside a bar on the lakeside, but it wasn’t a big deal. I was with a couple of friends and we were just buying them some drinks – no hanky panky. No big deal….

  2. Mobi, One request sir. I do enjoy Mobi’s adventures, but with the stories of your extracurricular activities, how about a photo or 2 of the ladies in question. For those of us not yet in the LOS and living the life vicariously through the blog of Mobi, how about a pic or two? You do own a cell phone complete with camera I assume. How about it — friend from a far. Let’s a have a little visual journalism from “the dark side”. May the horse be with you.

    ~BigEyesLOS

    1. Sorry my friend I’d love to oblige but most of these little darlin’s are camera shy. They used to be OK about pics but they have all been told that their images may be exploited on the internet so these days they don’t like it.

      Would if could, but I can’t – not if I want to keep my dick intact…!

  3. I’ll right away grab your rss as I can’t find your e-mail subscription link or newsletter service. Do you have any? Please let me know so that I could subscribe. Thanks.

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