The Darkside Blogger is babbling up a ‘Khao Phanser’ storm; from knicker-less hookers, to bra-less knockers, to Red Goat nutters…

6 Months, 16 Days – Still sober


Happy Khao Phanser, (Buddhist Lent), to all my Thailand based readers,  I trust you are all enjoying a nice, dry rest from your daily labours. Today is the second day of the total alcohol ban throughout the Land of Smiles and I trust it hasn’t put you to too much inconvenience or distress.

Of course for most residents and long-time visitors, the ban makes little difference as they will have ensured they had  adequate stocks of booze at home, and for those who are desperate to go out and drink, there are always a few drinking establishments off the beaten track ,who will surreptitiously sell to you whatever particular poison takes your fancy.

The same goes for 99% of Thais. They will either drink at home or they will seek out the noodle  shops, karaoke bars and restaurants who are happy to break the law after ensuring their protection from the boys in brown by making timely contributions to the BIB’s favourite benevolent funds.

Indeed, I was saddened to read this morning of  a group of young Thais, all under age, some thirty in number, who were illegally drinking at a beach restaurant yesterday on the Trat coast, overlooking Koh Chang, getting pretty legless. A few of them decided to go swimming in the sea in pretty rough conditions.

To cut a long story short, three of them got into trouble in the heavy swell, which resulted in one boy drowning and two others being rescued by a Brit who paddled to their rescue using an inner tube.  Unfortunately one of the boys he rescued died later in hospital. So there were two pointless deaths, after getting drunk on a day when alcohol was supposed to be banned.

A postscript to this story is that on this beach there was a number of local Thais with boats and jet skis, but not a single one made any attempt to rescue the poor kids; this despite the fact that dozens of spectators on the beach were screaming and shouting for something to be done to help the kids in trouble.

I do feel a little sorry for the poor unsuspecting tourists who arrive in Thailand at this time of years for their 2 weeks of fun and booze in the sun and suddenly find themselves being obliged to remain sober, and with nowhere to go to let their hair down and get their rocks off.

I well remember being in a similar situation some ten years ago, when I returned to Bangkok after a spell in England on the first day of Khao Phanser. I was staying in a hotel at the time and as soon as I had checked in, I was off to explore the bars of Sukhumvit Road and find a nice young lady to welcome me back in style after my weeks of enforced abstinence in the home country.

Imagine my shock and dismay when I found the red light areas of Sukhumvit in darkness and not an open bar in sight. I remember walking from  my hotel, near soi Nana, right along Sukhumvit, past Soi Asoke, past Soi Cowboy and all the way to soi 33 without finding a single establishment which would sell me a lousy bottle of beer, let alone a whore who might entertain me.

Reaching Soi 33, which was one of my favourite carousing areas back then, I felt that surely some of the upmarket bars in this ‘farang’ area would be open, but not a bit of it. I had never seen the soi so dark. With all the neon lights turned off, I could hardly find my way along the unusually murky soi. I slowly walked back to the main Sukhumvit highway, a totally dejected and increasingly thirsty figure.

Then I noticed a faint light emanating from the basement of a multi-storey  building which bordered Sukhumvit. It seemed to be coming from The Londoner, a Brit style pub which I rarely frequented as I always felt that I hadn’t come to Thailand to drink in a place which reminded me of home – a place and a country that I was trying to forget!

Anyway, ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ so I investigated further. Sure enough, when I walked down the stairs to see where the light was coming from, I found that the pub was indeed open. The large place was packed to the gunnels with farangs and Thais alike, knocking back the beer as if there was no tomorrow. There was barely room to breathe and it was impossible to force my way to the bar so I found a small empty corner, near the front door and after a few frantic minutes, eventually managed to persuade a waitress to bring me my very first beer since arriving in Bangkok, many hours earlier.

As I slaked my thirst, I looked around and wondered how it could be that  The Londoner could remain open, yet every other bar and pub, and drinking establishment, the length and breadth of Sukhumvit, was shut up tight.  I concluded they must have some pretty influential contacts and was wondering how much it must have cost them. Suddenly, with no warning, the front doors were thrown open  and no less then six uniformed cops entered, took up positions in front of  the door and surveyed the drunken revellers.

‘Here we go,’ I said to myself, ‘Now we’re all in the shit. Maybe I’m going to spend the night in the pokey.’

The cops continued to survey the assembled multitude, while one of their number, presumably the senior officer, left his position by the door and made his way through the crowd, who were paying scant attention to what had just happened. He disappeared into the smoky reaches of the back of the pub and I awaited events with not a little trepidation. 

A few minutes later, he reappeared, said something to his colleagues and suddenly they opened the door and filed out, leaving as quickly as they had arrived, some ten minutes earlier. I’ll leave it to my dear readers to deduce what was afoot, but whatever it was, it was clear that The Londoner, at least, was immune to the law.

I wonder if it still is?

After I had downed a few beers I grew rapidly bored. The Londoner was not my scene and I stood as much chance of finding a friendly hooker in that place as finding cheese on the dark side of the moon. So having filled my desperate body with liquid sustenance, I resolved to continue my search for a likely establishment which would be more to my taste.

I retraced my steps along Sukhumvit, back towards Nana, and as I walked along, wondering where might be the be the most likely area to try, it  came to me from the far reaches of my drunken mind, that I had heard somewhere it was always possible to get a drink in some of the ‘off Sukhumvit’ massage parlours.

And sure enough, after another 30 minutes of  semi-aimless wandering, this time in sois on the other side of Sukhumvit, I found a nice little massage parlour, tucked away in a tiny sub-soi that was not only open, but had plenty of booze and plenty of women! I recall that they had taken advantage of the situation by raising the prices, of  both booze and women, but the exorbitant cost of  my evening out was the last thing on my mind.  Encouraged by my prowess in finally being able to track down suitable sources of booze and hookers, I eventually moved on to other similar establishments, as indeed I continued to do on subsequent dry, nights.

Thus began my drunken adventures back in Thailand, which led me into many disastrous affairs, a disastrous financially ruinous marriage and my eventual move to Pattaya where I have been living for the past six years.

After their 9 days stay with Noo and Mobi, my friend Bob and his young lady finally went on their various ways. I dropped them both back at the airport yesterday, after which  I drove to Pattaya with Noo to have a meal and do a bit of food shopping. It was quite a long journey back from the airport as it seemed as though there was a general exodus from Bangkok for the long holiday weekend. The motorway was extremely busy;  chock-a-block with cars, full of families, bound for Pattaya for a weekend’s enjoyment.

To those who still insist that Thais hate Pattaya, they really should come and see the place on a holiday weekend. The town is absolutely teeming with middle class Thais who have come to enjoy the delights that this exciting city has to offer.

Pattaya has long since been a lot more than just Walking Street and the slightly seedy beer bars that stretch along Beech and second Road. Yes, it is still ‘sin city’ and it is still a whore-monger’s paradise, but it is also many other things.

The city now boasts a number of 5 star hotels, including a brand new Hilton and a Holiday Inn; it has an ever growing number of large shopping malls including a massive new Central Department store; it boasts three state of the art cinema multiplexes; at least half a dozen bowling alleys; two Tesco Lutus’s, three Big C’s, a large Villa Supermarket, a Foodland, several Tops and many more ; literally thousands of reasonably priced restaurants, catering to almost any taste and international cuisine that you can imagine.

I could go on and on – they have water parks, amusement parks and a short drive will bring you to golf courses, a polo park, an equestrian centre, a crocodile farm, an elephant village, huge ornamental garden complexes , Underwater Sea world, go-kart race tracks, bungee jumping, parasailing , wind surfing  and many, many more.

Maybe TAT should sponsor my blog.☺

On Thursday afternoon, I met up with Rick for a quick chat at one of the local cafes, before embarking on a bit of naughty spree, all by myself. Rick had been misbehaving himself all week and was all fucked out; quite unlike chaste, young Mobi who had been spending his days and nights with Noo, Bob and his girlfriend.  Anyway needs must, and I confess to going on a bit of a monger’s trawl through the dens of the Darkside, some old ones, some new ones and some neglected ones, (as Semprini used to say – for those Brits old enough to remember).

It was a bit of a mixed bag. One of my neglected places on Soi Kow Noi, ‘The Ma Muang Bar’,  the place with the nicker-less whores with the bra- less knockers, was the low point of the evening. I arrived to find a number of ladies available, and one immediately latched herself on to me. She wasn’t exactly in the first flush of youth, but she had a lovely, mature body with large, well-shaped breasts, nice fleshy, tight thighs and a lovely, big ass. She was dressed in a short, flimsy – what could only be described as – a nightdress. No bra and knickers, her body was completely ‘available for inspection. This was looking good, but as soon as I invited her to explore what Mobi had to offer, she said sorry, she had to be careful as her boss – a miserable, alcoholic, Flemish farang – was sitting next to us. I couldn’t understand why the reluctance to give me the ‘once over’ seeing as there were no restrictions on what I could do to her, but she insisted that ‘rules were the rules’ and she couldn’t touch me while her boss was there.

What a load of old b…..

Moving on, the high point of the evening was another place on Kow Noi called the  ‘Red Goat’. I had been there once before , several months ago, with Rick and found it to be one of those places full of cheap Charlie regulars, who ‘sit’ on their beers and play darts and rarely, if ever buy any of the ladies a drink. The last time I went there I noticed some quite tasty ladies, but I couldn’t get near to them for some strange reason, and as we were on a bar trawl we decided to cut our losses and move on to more fertile territory.

Anyway, after leaving the knicker-less Ma MuangBar, I drove past the Red Goat and decided to stop to see if the girls were any friendlier than last time.It is indeed a bit of an odd place. They have plenty of customers, middle aged – elderly farangs sitting around supping their beer and playing pool and darts. There were also  a number of ‘middle drawer’ ladies, some of whom were sitting with these men but received  no drinks in return for their ministrations.

It is one of those bar/pubs with very bright lights and as soon as I entered, the cliquey bunch of bald headed, pot -bellied Brits all stopped whatever it was they had been doing and stared at me, their beady eyes following me as I took the long lonely walk to the bar. It felt like I was in something out of the ‘League of Gentlemen’. Leaning on the bar, was a very slim, lovely looking lady in a short black dress, which was full of holes in all the right places. She asked me, ‘what was my pleasure’.  I touched her hand and before I knew what was happening she had leaned back onto me with her bare skin rubbing me; all over my ageing, horny body.

That was my pleasure, but I did the decent thing and ordered a Diet Coke and something for the oh so sexy young lady. This piece of largess resulted in even more close embraces and fondles. I looked around and  soon realised that the assembled  punters were none too pleased with this interloper in their midst who was getting it on with one of the best looking girls in their bar. She was Nong, not a youngster, but new in the hooker business, (at least so she told me…), having been working there a mere 10 days, and was extraordinarily sensual woman. She had a lovely face and was soon begging me to take her to a room out the back, not yet knowing that I didn’t indulge in such reprehensible activities.

After a few more minutes of yet more ‘encounters of a very close kind’, with the League of Gentlemen looking on, I spotted another lovely lady, also dressed in a black mini-dress, rushing around hither and thither. She was a much larger lady but very curvy, with a lovely face and I smiled my friendly smile and couldn’t resist touching her arm as she passed. She was soon back at the bar and before long I had the two of them pawing me. It turned out they were cousins – both ethnic Kymer ladies from Aranyaprathet.

Things went from bad to worse, as both ladies were fighting to get their fingers on a certain protuberance. The League of Gentlemen were clearly outraged and I wondered how much longer it would be before someone strung me up. Then, as if the situation couldn’t degenerate further, yet another lady sidled up to where I was sitting at the bar and insisted on checking out my ammunition. Two members of the League fraternity, who were sitting just along the bar from me, were clearly in danger of having apoplectic seizures, when one of the Kymer ladies succeeded in removing my gun from its holster to proudly show it to her friend.

Deciding that my life might be in danger, I quickly returned the offending object from whence it had come, but not before all three ladies had given it a good stroke for luck (or maybe a stroke of good luck).

Strange ain’t it? The no holds barred, nicker-less establishment has rules prohibiting the handling of  male merchandise, yet a so-called semi-respectable place, has ladies for whom ‘anything seems to goe.’  Maybe they were so desperate and bored, having to look after this bunch of ageing has-beens, night after night with n’ere a drink to show for it. Anyway, before I really did outstay my welcome, I decided to move on to pastures new, promising the 3 ravishing damsels that I would return next week to carry on where we had left off.

I walked the gauntlet, from bar to exit, accompanied by my 3 sexy ladies, protecting my front, back and sides from the hostile natives. I made it safely to my car and drove out into the night for further Khao Phanser-Eve adventures….

Mobi’s Poll

Thank you to those who have voted. I would love to get a few more people to take part. If you missed it, it can be found on my blog of July 14th, or click here:  Mobi’s Poll

BUTT…BUTT…BUTT…I don’t give a hoot!

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