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**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:09 AM

TOC

FAQ
Foreword
Chapter 01: The Philippines in the 80's
Chapter 02: Jordie Alan & the block Visa
Chapter 03: Singapore in the 80's
Chapter 04: The Philippines Revisited
Chapter 05: Nana Plaza & the irate customer
Chapter 06: Good morning Vietnam
Chapter 07: Patong Beach; Phuket
Chapter 08: Pattaya; The First Time
Chapter 09: The Angel, Letter Writer & Witch
Chapter 10: Mick O'Mouse & the Monkey house
Chapter 11: Deportation & the Reporter
Chapter 12: Bar Life, yarns, & the Military
Chapter 13: The Bishop & the Hero
Chapter 14: The Ghost & the Monk
Chapter 15: Migration to near Death
Chapter 16: Welsh Paul's first time
Chapter 17: The Porn star & the Hairdresser
Chapter 18: Anastasia & King Kong
Chapter 19: No Joke, Paul's Broke
Chapter 20: Interlude back in Holland
Chapter 21: The Bandits & the little Matchstick girl
Chapter 22: Hairy Ass & no panties
Chapter 23: The Very Merry Widow
Chapter 24: The Crocodile Farm
Chapter 25: Christmas Day & the New Millennium
Chapter 26: The Farmer & the Snake
Chapter 27: The Elephant Shit & Crazy John
Chapter 28: The Return of the Merry Widow
Chapter 29: The Last Jump & cheep Charlie
Chapter 30: Three Some, Tease some, Tiger & Poe
Chapter 31: Angel Noot, & the Sick Buffalo Yarn
Chapter 32: Sweet Rose at Heavens Door
Chapter 33: I Like my Pancake Sweet
Chapter 34: Who's that Girl?
Chapter 35: The Shamrock & the Shit Hole
Chapter 36: Who Stole My Temple?
Chapter 37: 2009 The Monger Returns
Chapter 38: That's what the Drink Does to Ya!
Chapter 39: Temples, Orphans & Mr. Hansom
Chapter 40: The Exorcist
Chapter 41: Sem & the tight ass German
Chapter 42: Quasimodo with a hangover
Chapter 43: Rats, Scams & Elephant Trekking
Chapter 44: Boy Scout Paul
After word
Extra info (web-sites)

390 pages

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:10 AM

Foreword

Ah! Here I am a 52-year-old, with a shaved head because of baldness, and a bit of a pot belly, sitting on a deck chair, on a white sandy beach on an island just off the coast of Thailand. The hot tropical sun makes the ice cold beer in my hand go down real well, as I watch the slim and hard bodies of my three Thai LB companions, as they frolic and splash about in the crystal clear waters. As I watch them, I'm contemplating on which one I'm taking to bed tonight. Or maybe I'll take two of them...ah fuck it I'll take the three of them, just in case I leave the best one out. That way, whichever one is the best performer, I could hang on to her for a few days, and send the other two back to work in their bars, for the next punter.

Oh decisions, decisions! That's the only trouble with being king for a few weeks of the year. But while sitting there, I began to reflect on how this moment in time came about, which gives me an evil little smile. Fuck me, I've been going at this for going on 30 years now, and the song €˜Lucky Man' from the Verb, started to ring in my ears, which although it was called €˜Lucky Man,' it was quite a sad song, and reflected on how many more years will it all last.

My mind went deeper into my past to where I was a young boy born in Northern Ireland, and eldest of seven children of a poor working class family. I was very intelligent, but got bored easily at school, as I figured my teachers didn't know any more than what they read in their text books, and that wasn't the real world. I remember when I was 8 years old sitting in the classroom, and our teacher €˜Baldy McGee' was giving us a lecture on €˜study hard, and maybe you'll get a good job in a nice fancy factory.' This 8 year old twat stood up and shouted, "Sir! How much do you earn a week?" "Well Paul I earn such and such!" He replied, as he stuck out his chest proudly. So I quickly added, "Well I want a hell of a lot more than that when I grow up." Needless to say, I got a really good beating for that remark, but sure that was all part of the hardening process in those days.

Since that early age, I always worked, doing many part-time jobs, and was able to buy my own shoes and clothes, that way I wasn't a burden on my poor struggling father. Aged 11, I taught myself to play the guitar, and was in and out of rock bands throughout my teens. And with long blonde hair and eyes of blue, played the guitar and sang, I had pussy falling out of my pockets. And then in 1969 came the start of €˜the troubles' (or €˜the war' as some might call it) for my generation. The place where I was born and lived, earned the nick name €˜Bandit Country,' and in among the bombs and bullets, the companies started to close down and pull out of Northern Ireland, making the lines outside the unemployment office longer and longer.

Life was on a day to day basis, but that wasn't a problem for me. It seemed society couldn't see any farther than the barricade at the end of the street, with religious ignorance, bitterness, and hatred. By hook and by crook, I managed to break free from it all, hopping on and off little jobs, that came my way, until eventually I found myself based in Saudi Arabia. And for a young man who is too used to getting pussy all the time, this place was quite challenging. But of course, if you can sing and play the guitar, then you're an entertainer, and in no time at all I formed a little band just to get into the nurses quarters of the King Kalid Hospital, which was the Sheraton hotel, that housed around 300 of them. But that was rare, and was like walking bare foot on broken glass.

Another two haunts of mine was the marine bar in the US Embassy and a yuppie bar in the British Embassy. The booze was plenty, but the pussy was rare, so I managed to get into a circle of friends that had contacts in the Thai, Philippine, and Ethiopian Embassies. This is where I first came onto the P4P scene, as the girls of those nationalities were originally hired by rich Saudi's as maids, cooks, or nannies, but later finding themselves being abused, beaten, and raped. The first chance they got they would escape to their Embassies who protected them, but could not afford to pay for their ticket home, nor the bribe to the officials, to get them from the Embassies and through the airport.

This is where this circle came in, as when we felt the need, we would go down to one of these Embassies, and mutually select a girl, which had no trouble going with any of us, knowing they would be treated well. Negotiate a monthly wage, and basically hired them as a live in wife, until they had enough money to get home, which took about three months. But it was very dangerous, as she couldn't leave your home for any reason. If you were caught driving at a check point out side the safety of the compound, with her as a passenger, and no papers to prove she was your wife, you both were going to jail for a very long time.

A few times I paid them off early, when they started to call me darling, and then quickly got a retread so to speak. Some times you couldn't be too choosy, and had to take what you could get, and if it wasn't to your liking, well that was tough shit, you're stuck with it for three months. It was expensive enough, as their monthly wage would have been holiday money for a month in Thailand or the Philippines, but that included hotel, food, drink, and a different girl every night.

Also having the odd weekend excursions to Istanbul, Cairo, or Athens, for a drink, massage, and a good fuck, from a high class hooker, as I didn't have time to chat up anyone, and proved to cost more than what it was worth. Until one day I must have been moaning about it to a buddy, when he shrugged his shoulders and said, "You're going the wrong direction Paul!" "What do you mean?" "You want to get your ass down to the Philippines or Thailand buddy!" Well after a few yarns from him I was hooked, and it wasn't long after I was sitting on a plane heading to the Far East, where my own yarns began.

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:13 AM

Chapter 01 €“ The Philippines in the 80's

Way back in the Middle Ages, (the 80's) I had just turned 20 and had been working in the Middle East. I was a young lad with blonde hair, blue eyes, who was honestly quite good looking, and I was also doing
alright financially. Well, basically, I was shitting money, and at the first chance I was off to the Philippines, Singapore, and Thailand for recreational purposes.

In Manila, I would normally stay at the Great Western Hotel, and would meet up with a few mates in the €˜Firehouse ago-go,' at its original location in Ermita on Mabini Street. In those days this area was the
equivalent of Bangkok's Patpong district, a street full of go-go bars.

I would normally unpack, shower, dress, and discard anything that was €˜shiny shiny,' before I jumped into a taxi to head downtown. I try to dress like a bum as much as possible, t-shirt, jeans, and a cheap,
black plastic watch. There are always a few groups of guys dotted around the area waiting on a victim, and if they see anything shiny on you, they would be on your ass like magpies.

First stop was the €˜Chinese Tea House,' to get a feed, which was located at one end of the red light area, but unfortunately a few years later, it was literally blown up over a dispute with the Chinese Triads. I would start to bar hop from there towards the Firehouse (which was about the middle of the street). The only trouble I had was trying to walk past each bar, when there would be 4-5 girls to
jump me and physically drag me into the bar by the back of the neck, calling me "Pogie, Pogie, Pogie." The girls outside the next bar, upon seeing this, were ready for me when I managed to crawl back out
...no sooner had I escaped one, then I was dragged into the next. This would go on all night, I would start the bar hop in the daylight, and by the time I got halfway up the street to the Firehouse, it would be
around 10pm. It was a nightmare, and I loved every minute of it.

One adventure I will never forget was after I had been out all night and returned to the Western Hotel around 7am. I hit the coffee shop, for a last beer, before retiring to my room. Sitting there I noticed
just one person at the bar, also drinking a beer. He introduced himself as a Swiss 747 airline pilot, flying for TWA. He was wide awake, jet-lagged from a trip from America to Australia, and had to continue un-expectantly to Manila, as his replacement pilot was sick. He told me about his girlfriend here in the Philippines. She lived way up in the 1000 islands, and normally greets him at the airport when he comes, but as this trip was unexpected, there had been no time to let her know.

I told him he could hang out with me, after all there's plenty more fish in the sea, but he was determined to get in contact with her. He mentioned renting out a helicopter and taking a trip up north, which he had done a couple of times before, and asked me to come for the ride; he would pay for the helicopter. I was still a bit four sheets to the wind, so I agreed and ordered a few coffees, then told him to meet me back in the coffee shop an hour later, to give me time to shower and change.

An hour later we met up, and took a taxi to the outskirts of the airport, to rent the helicopter. He did his business in the office, and an hour later we were flying up north following the coast. Almost an hour and a half past that, we found the island his girlfriend was living on, but there was no place to land. It was all jungle, and we were approaching the point of no return. We did notice a hotel with a golf course on the mainland as we were passing the middle of nowhere, and that was the closest open spot to his girlfriend's island. So we did a U-turn and landed there on the golf course, only to be greeted by half of the staff on the lawn.

It turned out the hotel was a old colonial type palace, and belonged to the Western group also, but as it was in the middle of nowhere, it was half the price. So at reception we booked in for the night, and my Swiss pilot buddy explained what we were doing there. The receptionist said they would relay a radio message to the island that we were here, and would get in touch with my new buddy's girlfriend. We both checked into our rooms, to freshen-up, and planned to meet up later at the bar.

After reaching my room, I decided to take a shower, so I stripped and climbed into the shower, pulling the shower curtain closed. After taking the shower, I turned off the water, and pulled back the curtain, only to get a shock, as there were two pretty little chambermaids standing there in the bathroom, holding folded towels, smiling. I tried to snap a towel from them to cover myself, but instead I was instructed to step out of the bath, where the two of them proceeded to dry me down, ignoring the boner that seemed to rise
with every stroke of the towel.

Here I was standing there in the middle of the bathroom with this embarrassing boner, while these two chambermaids are on their knees drying me off, then they took me into the bedroom, and instructed me
to lay face down on the bed, where they continued to give me a oil massage, fingers right in the crack of my buttocks and tickling my testicles between my thighs. Then they had me turn me on my back, and
continued the massage, from shoulder to toe. The massage concluded with the ladies taking care of my little soldier who was standing to attention, and dripping with pre-cum, by stripping their clothes off
and taking care of business.

At the end of it all, they dressed, and were about to leave the room, but when I tried to give them some money, they refused, saying it was all part of the hotel service. Boy! I couldn't wait to get down to
the bar to tell my Swiss buddy, what had just happened to me. Later, as I entered the bar, I was met with his gaped mouth and wide eyes...all I said was, "Did it happen to you too?"...... "Yes...what kind of a hotel policy is that Paul?"...... "I don't know...... but it's the best hotel I have ever stayed in." We laughed about it over a few beers, and he told me he had just received a message from the island. His girlfriend was on her way by boat, so I asked the barman to fix me up with one of the local whores for the night, which took a few minutes to sort out. Later in the evening, the four of us had dinner, a few drinks at the bar, and headed to the room, for an early night. The next morning my Swiss buddy, his girlfriend, and myself piled into the helicopter and flew back to Manila.

Some time later I took it into my head to buy a bar, and the grapevine told me the best man to help me accomplish this was €˜Old Joe,' who was well known for his honesty and knowledge in the field. He managed a bar at the end of the €˜red-light gauntlet,' on the opposite end from the Chinese Tea House. This means I would have to walk the whole way of this gauntlet to get to see him. I had tried a couple of times to meet him, but ended up too pissed and too late to talk business, after being pulled into all the bars, one after the other, on the way up to see him.

One of those times in particular, there was this beautiful blond, which was very rare in those days, and a couple of her mates, who pulled me into a bar and pushed me into a cozy, and before I knew it, there's a bottle of beer in front of me. The blond sat beside me trying to chat me up, but I was too interested in getting to see Old Joe first.

She was a stunner, just wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and I remember thinking I will come back and pick her up after I see Old Joe. So I said, "I'll come back for you," as we always say just to get out of it, but this time I really meant it. Thinking that this was a rejection of some sort, the next thing I know she stood up and hovered over me, like a flash she had undone her jeans and pulled them down along with her panties. She grabbed my hand and shoved it in between her thighs, saying, "You see...you see." Now I'm sitting there with a beer in my left hand and her pussy in my right hand, thinking, €˜What the fuck is wrong with this woman.' She pulled her pants back up and proceeded to chat me up again. I explained again, "Yes, yes...but I got to see a guy first and then I come back for you."

She got up and did it again, jeans and panties down, grabbed my hand and into her pussy, "You see, you see." Now I'm sitting there like a twat with a beer in one hand and a pussy in the other, I remember
thinking, "Paul...there's something fucking weird going on here." But this time I managed to take my eyes off her pussy for a second, and took a look around the bar to see if any one was looking. Surprisingly the bar staff seemed to ignore this, but as my eyes further inspected the staff, I suddenly realized that the majority of them, if not all, were Ladyboys.

Finally the penny dropped! She thought that I was thinking she was a ladyboy like the rest of the staff, and was only trying to prove that she was 100% all woman. So I further explained by telling her that I had to see €˜Old Joe,' about business, and this time as I mentioned his name she understood, and as this was the first time I had come across Ladyboys, (but certainly not the last!) I told her to wait outside, because I was afraid to go into the bar alone to look for her, as I felt a bit intimidated by them.

Anyway, later that night I finally managed to have a drink with old Joe, and he informed me that there might be a couple of bars for sale in the next month or so. Later I managed to get back to her bar, and
she was waiting outside. We went into her bar for a last few drinks that evening. sitting inside surrounded with these strange creatures, I found myself buying drinks for all of them, and asking all sorts of
questions to satisfy my curiosity. I found them all to be a lot of fun and soon realized there was no reason to have any fear. It came to the point where Blondie got a bit jealous, and started to feel left out, "Right Paul! I think it's time to go back to the hotel," where she proceeded to give me the ride of my life.

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:16 AM

Chapter 02 €“ Jordie Alan & the Block Visa

After that day, it started to dawn on me that I was getting a lot more attention than usual, from the hotel staff. It was more like being pestered, with receptionists, maids, cleaners, cooks, and bar staff going out of their way to introduce themselves, telling me how many diplomas they had, while I might be eating a meal in the hotel restaurant, or having a swim in to pool. When they knew I was in my room, I would get a few phone calls asking, "Is everything to your satisfaction, Sir? If not just ask for me ... My name is Mary." Well this is nice, but what the fuck is going on here?

The penny dropped shortly after, when one afternoon, after having a swim, I went back to my room to shower, followed by one of the maids knocking on my door. As I opened it, this sexy young maid just pushed her way in, and locked the door behind her, while she mumbled, "I have to check the room, to make sure everything is to your satisfaction Sir!" Then she started to strip off her clothes saying, "I need that job in Saudi Arabia...and I'll do anything to get it...I can really make you feel good Sir!" "Well if it's going to be like that...then call me Paul not Sir...now pop into the shower sweetie!" It was a hell of an afternoon session, and when she finally got dressed, she put her CV down on the table, and then opened the door, but while she was walking out, another sexy young thing was walking in, "This is Anna ...she also needs a job in Saudi Arabia...enjoy...byeee!" For the next couple of days, I hardly left my room, and in the long run I was glad to check out of there, to recover. It was almost as if they were all lined up down the corridor from my room door, and as one left my room, I would just pop my head out and shout, "Right...next!"

The €˜block visa' is a complete package that included visas, work permits etc. for a group of people, which is done well in advance, and normally signed by one of the Saudi royal family, to cut through all the red tape and delays. In this case it was for 37 staff for a new supermarket that had just been built in Jeddah, which was owned by a prince, and it was just a matter of filling in the names. I was new to this, and was handed the package a day before I flew to Manila, by my mate €˜Jordie Allan.'

Allan had a large auto repair compound in Jeddah, S.A. and had a partner who was a prince, but mainly did the entire repair work for all the vehicles of the royal family, including the King's limos. With all these princes running in and out of his place, he had great connections, and it wasn't long till they were handing him €˜block visa packages,' asking him to sort it out for them, on his next trip to Manila. Some packages could require a couple of hundred laborers and tradesmen, for a large building project. You can imagine that this was great for the person, who had a package like that in his hand, when he hits Manila.

Allan didn't have the time to do it himself, so he handed me a list of employment agencies in Manila, along with the visa package, explaining what I had to do, which was to call up a few of these employment agencies, and tell them what I had in my hands. They would soon come running to the hotel, and I would never have to do any footwork. I was not to hand over the package until I negotiated a $100 cash fee per head, which in this case means they would have to hand me $3,700 cash in exchange for the package, which was the going rate for any courier that had a package like this. Then on my return to Jeddah I would split the money 50/50 with Allan.

I couldn't figure out how the hotel staff knew that I had this package, as I had not yet called up any agencies. The only person I did mention it too was my Swiss pilot friend, when I first met him, sitting at the hotel bar. Then it suddenly dawned on me, the fucking barman was listening in on our conversation, and from him word got around the hotel like wild fire. During my ordeal of getting the life shagged out of me by half of the hotel staff, I did manage to make a couple of phone calls, and slip down to the hotel lobby to do the deal. Once they handed me the cash, I handed them the package, plus a whole pile of CVs, with the last word, "Oh! By the way...include these people in the deal!"

I took off to Angeles City for a few days rest before heading back to Jeddah. I basically laid around the pool by day, and went out on the piss by night, but I had no passion left to take anyone back to my room. When I finally did return to Jeddah, I split the money with Allan and told him what had happened in the hotel, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry saying, "You lucky bastard! For all the times I have took a package with me...that has never happened to me!" As I did it for the first time without a hitch, Allan would ask me to do it a few times again, when he was too busy.
I had a problem with my car just before I left for Manila, so I asked Allan to fix it while I was away, and as I went to him to split the money I noticed my car was in the same place that I left it, "Is my fucking car finished?" "Emm, ah, no! It needs a spare part that I have to order!" "And?" "Ok, ok! Come with me now and we'll look for a secondhand one." So we both hopped into his car, and he took me to the hills, well outside the city limits. We came to a massive scrap yard that went on for miles. There were thousands upon thousands of wrecked vehicles, mostly 4-wheel drives, and by the look of them they were in a car crash the first day they were taken out on the highway. I reckoned the Saudis were the worst drivers in the world, at the time.

This graveyard of scrap was too big to fence in, but it did have several watchtowers dotted around the perimeter, with armed guards in them. When we stopped at the entrance, just before we got out, Allan said, "Now keep your hands up in the air and wait till I say it's Ok!" "What?! Why is that then?" "So the snipers in the towers see that we're not armed!" We got out and stood there with our hands in the air, until someone in the tower gave Allan a wave, then we were free to enter. While the two of us were searching for the spare part we came for, I couldn't get over this set up, "How come these guys can have a set up like this?" "Ahk Paul! We're in the Wild West now boy...even the cops are afraid to come near the place!" He went on to tell me the parts yard had elements of the €˜Silver Rose,' which was an organization who were very anti-royal family, and quite rebellious.

Hunting through the place that day all Allan kept on repeating, "Look at this...brand new, look at that not a day old...it's a fucking sin and a waste...that's what it is mate!"

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:18 AM

Chapter 03 €“ Singapore in the 80's

I went back to work for a couple of months in the Middle East, and decided to look up Old Joe again, back in Manila, to see what was brewing on the bar scene. From time to time, I would stop over in
Singapore for a few days, on the way, and on this occasion, I did just that. Normally when I stay in Singapore, I stay at the Holiday Inn, just off of Orchard Road.

Occasionally I might take a taxi to the famous red light area of Bugis Street, but it was in the process of being closed down, and business was moved elsewhere, with only a few skanks hanging around.
So I just stayed in the hotel's lounge bar, until it closed, then moved over to the coffee shop. Now, some well-seasoned mongers would know that next door to the Holiday Inn, there is the Tropicana night
club, chock full of Thai hookers. I would never venture into that club for the simple fact that, when the Tropicana closes, the Thai hookers would all pile into the hotel's coffee shop, to try to score
with the hotel guests, or other visitors.

On this trip an old friend of mine Kassim, who was a Chinese Singaporean, got his two brothers to show me around town, as Kassim couldn't meet up at the time. His two brothers must never go out
much, as early in the evening they picked me up form the hotel and started to show me around. The places they took me to had no life in them at all, so after an hour of letting them shuffle me around, I
decided they didn't know their way around much, so I took over the tour.

I must admit, that at the time, I knew Singapore like the back of my hand, and started to take these two brothers around, all the while they would be walking behind me saying to each other, "How does he
know these places, and he doesn't even live here?" Later that night after taking them to all the hot spots, I let them take me to one of their favorite clubs. They took me to a place that had a 7-piece
all-girl Philippine band, and I had my eye on one of them. So I got the brothers to get her down to our table on the next break, which she did along with another member of the band. I kind of bullshitted them
that I was a record producer, and a brother of famous British pop star, one I sort of picked out of a hat, that I resembled.

A long story short, they were all over me, and at the end of the night I had all 7 of them sitting at my table...needless to say we all went back to their apartment, where we had a right old orgy. The two
brothers left early, as they had to work next morning, leaving me with all seven, until the sun came up. I walked back to the hotel, and on the way, I fancied a cup of coffee, just to get the taste of pussy out
of my mouth (what a problem to have!), and stopped at a coffee shop on the Orchard Road.

Sprawled across a couple of chairs outside, was this sleeping beauty. She was wearing jeans, baseball sneakers, and a t-shirt; apart from the long black hair, she looked quite tomboyish. Thinking she was the
waitress, I gave her a tap to go and get me a pot of coffee. She didn't seem to be too pleased about that, but went inside and ordered a pot of coffee, then came out and said, "By the way .... I am not a waitress." So after I apologized, and joked with her about it, I asked her to join me for a coffee, which she did.

She explained she was a lesbian living with a 27-year-old secretary, and was out clubbing the night before and missed the last bus, so she slept there waiting for a bus in the morning. I was kind of glad to
hear that, after my night with the band. I was well past spent. We chatted for an hour or so, when she invited me to go the beach later that afternoon. I thought, why not. The rest of the day would be
pretty safe with this one, and besides that, she probably won't turn up anyway. We firmed up plans and she said she would pick me up at the hotel lobby at 1pm.

She caught the bus and I scrambled back to the hotel to get a couple of hours sleep. At 1pm I went down to the lobby and no sooner had I gotten there, she was walking in through the door. We hopped into a
taxi and headed off to the beach, and on the beach, she stripped down to a white one-piece bathing suit. Man, did I start to foam at the mouth. I didn't realize her tomboyish attire was hiding the body of a
Goddess. As we both lay on the beach, I kept looking out of the corner of my eye, at her trimmed pubic hair, poking through the fabric of her suit. I got a boner every time I did, so I was constantly
jumping into the sea, to get it down. It happened so often that she began to notice, "Why are you jumping into the sea all the time?" "I can't help it...I keep getting a boner every time I look at you lying
beside me." She just gave me a devilish smile and teased me the rest of the day about it.

Later we shared a couple of jugs of tiger beer at a beach bar close by, and chatted till the sun went down. When it came time to part, I asked her, "Do you have enough money for the taxi?" "Why...what are you
doing tonight?" "Well I'll have a bit of dinner, then I might go out clubbing" "Well I want to go with you too!" "All right then...but you're not coming out with me wearing those baseball sneakers, and jeans...I will get you something to wear across the road from the hotel." We get a taxi and went straight to a shop, where I bought her a dress and a pair of high heels, which she could hardly walk in, being used to the tomboy gear, but that dress and heels really brought out that beautiful curvy figure, and long, sexy legs.

I thought I'd play it safe when we went back to the room. I showered and got dressed in the bathroom, then told her to do the same, while I waited for her in the lobby. She came down like a queen, still pissed
off about the high heels, but it wasn't long before she got used to them, so long as we didn't walk too far. She wanted to go to one of her favorite clubs, so after dinner we both headed there. We stood at
the bar, and after a while, she asked me for a dance, but I told her I didn't dance. Disappointed, she headed off to the toilet.

Across the bar was a tall blonde German girl, which I kind of noticed in the corner of my eye, she seemed to be a meter taller than I was, so I ignored the urge to eye her up any further. But just then, I felt someone grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulling me onto the dance floor for a slow dance, and yes...it was the tall blonde German girl.

I found it uncomfortable trying to dance with my face stuck in between her tits, which were acting like ear mufflers on ether side of my head. I couldn't hear a word she was saying. So after a few steps I declined the offer of the dance, explaining I was with some one, and went back to the bar. Unknown to me, my little lesbian princess had already come back from the toilet, saw me dancing with the German...after turning her down...so she got upset and stormed out of the club.

I'm standing at the bar ordering another drink, wondering where the hell she was. All the while, I was getting some male and female teenage Singaporeans, coming up to me asking, "Where are you from?" ...
"Ireland!" ... "Hmmmmm... Ok!" then walking away. After the third or forth person asked me this, I stopped one of them, "Why are you asking me this?" ... "Well your date is sitting outside very upset ... and we are all friends of hers, and we can't understand why she is so upset over a man, when she doesn't like men in the first place." I told that person to bring her back inside. Shortly after, she then came
back to the bar drying her eyes, and laid into me about dancing with the German girl. I innocently explained that I was more or less molested by the German girl, and how it was uncomfortable trying to
dance with her, which surprisingly made her laugh. I spent the rest of the night being introduced to her friends and ended up having a great time.

Three AM, we headed back to the hotel, where we had a nightcap. I told her to go and pick up her clothes from the room, and I would wait in the coffee shop. She wasn't having any of it, arguing that I must
come with her to my room. Being a gentleman, I refused, telling her I would wait here until she got her gear from the room, and then I would call her a taxi. Well she did what I was hoping she would, by just
going up to the room...she simply didn't come down again. I finished my drink, had another, and then decided to slip up to the room to see what was brewing. I found her already showered, lying in my bed
naked. Well there was nothing else for it but to get a shower myself, and gently slip in beside her. I was no stranger in bedding lesbians, so I knew how gentle to be, to get the best results.

The next day she phoned her 27-year-old girlfriend, to tell her she would be home soon, and of course, the questions came, "Where are you? Who are you with?" And when she told her where and who, the voice on the phone got a bit loud, "What?...a man! Put him on the phone!" It was a strange conversation between us, which started with, "Where are you from?" My princess left me in bed, and took off around midday, leaving me putting the headphones on of my walkman, and falling back to sleep listening to a few tunes, not able to hear the phone. I also didn't realize that the red light above my head in the bed's headboard was for incoming calls and messages.

I thought I would just hang around the hotel that night, wondering about my little lesbian princess, and how much trouble she got into with her girlfriend, after staying with me. I figured it would be the last I'd see of her, so I had dinner, and hung out in the hotel lounge bar until closing time. I then moved on to the coffee shop to have a few Irish coffees, before going to bed.

Now I'm sitting there in the coffee shop, sipping on an Irish coffee, which was the only alcoholic beverage allowed to be sold at that hour, when in came a Thai from next door. She sat at the table next to mine
and ordered a coffee. She was trying to attract my attention, as usual, with smiles, calling over, "What your name...where you from?" So I thought fuck it, I'll just have a bit of a chat with her, to keep myself occupied, called her over and got her a coffee. I wasn't green and knew what the score was, I think that was obvious to her up front. We had a straight conversation that went on for hours, about other things, and really got very comfortable with each other.

We never mentioned any kind of P4P, but as we were comfortable together, she told me she was a 30-year-old Ladyboy from somewhere in south Thailand, and that she owned a construction company. Now you
know the way some married blokes, from time to time, pull out their wallets and have photos of their wives and kids, "This is my wife...and this is my 5 year old...and this is our 6 month old baby." Well, she
proudly got out her wallet, and instead of photos of the family, she produced a load of photos of JCBs and other construction machinery, "I got this last year...I got this the year before...this is 4 years old,
etc." She then went on to tell me she had a few million baht in the bank.

"Wait a minute! You own a construction company and have a few million in the bank. What are you doing here, hooking for two weeks?" So she selected one of the photos, which was a JCB, "This is kaput, and need spare parts. Why I should pay from my pocket, when I can still do this?" She went on, "You know Paul, I not stupid....I very good business lady...I build up my company from the money I make coming here and hooking...some day I too old for this, so now I do, and keep my money in the bank." She even showed me her bankbook, with all those zeros in it.

I was fascinated with her attitude and outlook on things, and we got on like a house on fire, but it was now five or six in the morning and I was getting tired. I told her I was going to bed, "Ah, Paul I go with you naa?" I told her there was no way I was going to pay Singapore prices just for a fuck. She stopped me and said, "No, no Paul...you not pay anything...I enjoy talking with you." With this change of events, I thought I'd wind her up a bit, "You must pay me, if you want to go my room." "How much you want Paul?" "How much you got?" ... "4 dollar for taxi." So I took the 4 dollars off her, and said lets
go.

We got into the room and took a shower together. We had a very sensual love making session that lasted for hours. Late that afternoon, when she dressed, I gave her back the 4 dollars to get the taxi, which she laughed her head off about.

Now that I was alone again, I decided to check my messages at reception, and I had a shitload! Not only did I have messages from that stunning 17-year-old lesbian princess, but also a fair amount of grief from her 27-year-old girlfriend whom she lived with. I thought to myself, I should take it easy today as I'm flying out to Manila tomorrow. What concerned me most was the upcoming run through the
red-light gauntlet to see Old Joe and my desire to open a bar of my own.

While having a late lunch, I came up with the idea that in the Philippines they all very strong and devoted Catholics, and if I was a Catholic priest, surely I wouldn't get any hassle walking up the street there, and that they would all stay clear of me. I quickly ran around the corner to one of the tailors on Orchard Road, and ordered a couple of black Catholic priest shirts complete with white dog collars, and a pair of black slacks. I told them I needed them in a matter on hours.

A few hours later, I had dinner and then went to pick them up. I had a quiet night, in the hotel lounge bar, then headed over to the coffee shop, for a nightcap. I was having an uneventful, early night, but
then I ran into a couple of middle-aged Australian businessmen, whom I sat with for an hour or more.
When they realized I was living in Saudi Arabia, they started to tell me the business they were in, which was shipping sheep for consumption to Saudi Arabia. The Saudi's paid for everything including the empty ships return journey, and they added that it was a pity these empty ships couldn't be utilized in some way. The conversation went on to Australia's great need for all-terrain 4-wheel drive vehicles, be it scrap that could be fixed up, or used as spare parts, for the farmers and workers in Australia's out-back. I immediately thought of €˜Jordie Allan' and the massive mountains of scrap he had shown me. That, and the demand for them, plus the empty ships, I put two and two together, got up, and made a quick phone call at reception to Jordie Allan to see if he could do it, which he jumped at the chance. Then sat back down with the two gentlemen and set up the rest of the deal. As I was not interested in going in on the deal, I demanded an introductory fee of $3000 for setting up the two parties, payable on the first shipment.
(It wasn't long before Allan was sending the ships back fully laden with the scrap 4-wheel drive vehicles, and two months later $3000 was paid into my bank account, which made this a nice free holiday)

I was playing the green horn as far as the Singapore nightlife was concerned; telling them it was my first time here. So they decided to take this young Irish boy under their wings with, "Listen mate you want to go here, you want to go there, you want to do this, and you want to do that." I would be going, "Oh really! Wow, you don't say."

Just then, the girls started to drift in from the Tropicana next door, and the lads started to tell me, "Listen mate there's a good whore house next door, and these chicks that just walked in, work there.
Play your cards right mate and you'll get it cheaper than in the club."

There was about ten of them that came in all together. They pulled two tables together, right next to ours, and all ordered coffee. I noticed my Ladyboy friend was one of them, and I made eye contact, as
if to say, don't say anything in front of these two guys.

We continued chattering away, and the ten Thais were chattering away next to us. The two guys were still giving me the do's and don'ts, when suddenly about six of the Thai's stood up with an arm stretched
out, with 4 dollars in each of their hands saying, "I give you 4 dollars... I give you 4 dollars.... I want to sleep with you...no I want to sleep with him." All the while, my ladyboy friend, with her two hands over her face, was pissing herself laughing.

Boy, would you want to see the look on those poor guys faces! They were wide-eyed with dropped jaws, in a state of shock. If that wasn't enough, not five minutes later, in walked the stunning 17-year-old
lesbian, a bit upset, "Paul! Why don't you answer any of my messages? I've been waiting on your phone call all day!" I bet those guys felt like right pricks, after all that fine advice they gave me. Things got even weirder when they found out she was a lesbian. Then I got up, "Sorry gents, duty calls," as I walked away with this 17-year-old, pissing myself laughing on the way to the lift, all I could hear in the background was, "You jammy bastard."

The next day I checked out as I had to hit the airport by midday to catch a flight to Manila, which was booked already, my little lesbian and I said our goodbyes in the lobby. If I knew that this thing I had
with the princess was going to happen, I would have canceled Manila completely. There's nothing wrong with a bit of lesbian from time to time, now is there?

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:20 AM

Chapter 04 €“ The Philippines Revisited

I arrived in Manila midday, booked into the Great Western, and had a few hours sleep, as I was totally wrecked. I woke up about 6pm, showered and transformed myself into €˜Father Paul,' with the gear I got made up in Singapore, thinking nobody is going to fuck with me tonight, now I can walk straight up the red-light gauntlet to see Old Joe, without any hassle.

So this character €˜Father Paul,' got out of the lift into the lobby, the staff greeting me, "Have a nice day father", and at the reception it was, "Our apologies father, for addressing you as mister earlier" "No problem my dear, I don't like to travel dressed like this...but I'm just going down town to say mass." I jumped in a taxi, and went to the Chinese Tea House for something to eat. They even gave me a discount on my bill, just because I was wearing the dog collar.

I remember thinking to myself sitting there, €˜this is going to work,' but then it suddenly dawned on me, €˜Wait a minute! I've just fucked myself up here...now I can't take any one back to the hotel...Shit!' So I come out of the Tea House and started to walk the gauntlet with head held high, here comes €˜Father Paul.' Do you think it made a difference? Nope! It fucking didn't! I was still getting dragged into the bars, dog collar and all. Granted it was less that I normally got, so I got to Old Joe a bit earlier and a bit sober.
Old Joe greeted me with a weird look, "Emmm Paul, we don't have a dress code here" "Don't ask Joe, I thought it would be better to dress like this, and get less hassle walking the gauntlet." "Pity you didn't tell me before, then I would tell you not to bother...it doesn't work down here." Old Joe then informed me that there was a bar for sale at the other end of the gauntlet. "Ah, Joe! Don't tell me I got to go all the way back there." "Don't worry Paul; you're with me this time...I'll go down with you, and introduce you." After a couple of drinks, we took a walk back down the gauntlet, and sure enough, nobody came near me, as I was with Joe. You could see that he was well respected in that area.

We went into the bar in question, and Joe introduced me to the owner. The owner was a stunning female, and she explained to me she used to be a high class hooker, and worked in the Playboy Club. She then got married to a German, which likes to stay at home, and doesn't like the bar scene. She and I got on like a house on fire, buying drink for drink, and the two of us proceeded to get pissed. We talked about everything except the purchase of her bar. I'm getting well oiled here, and forgot I was still wearing the dog collar, until after a couple of hours she asked me out of the blue, "Anyway, what kind of a priest wants to buy a go-go bar?"

€˜Ah shit Paul think of something fast,' "Ah...well...emmm...I'm a rebel priest." €˜Fuck sake Paul think of some bullshit fast to back that up, as she is about to ask you what a rebel priest is.' Believe it or not, she simply answered, "Ah, you're a rebel priest...sure we got them here also." Now I'm starting to get some insight on how these Irish priests conduct themselves when they let loose in countries like this, which was confirmed to me later in Thailand. I figured it was safe to take the collar off and put it in my pocket.
The conversation that followed through to the subject of sex. "That husband of mine is useless these days, when I'm lucky, its just a five minute fuck and then he rolls over to sleep, and I have to finish myself off." "Yes, yes, it's very selfish of him isn't it...I myself like to go down on a woman, and eat pussy for at least 45 minutes, and make sure she cums at least 3 times, before I would think of sticking my cock in her." "Oh! Emmmm...so what hotel are you staying at?" "No, no, no.... you're forgetting I can't walk in with someone, as they all know I'm a priest." "Shit! I got that fucking lazy husband back home also." I had to get out of there as things were getting a bit too hot, but I remembered thinking while sitting there, €˜boy you just cut your own throat.'

There was an hour or so of nightlife left, so I dragged myself away from this beauty, and strolled into the €˜New Bangkok Agogo,' which was managed by another Scottish mate, Jimmy. I knew Jimmy from the €˜New Bangkok Agogo' in Patpong. The owners of the original bar in Bangkok set up this bar in Manila a few months back, and got Jimmy to look after their interests. Jimmy was not much older than I; he was in his late 20s, I guess he was around 26.

I never carry a wallet around; I just rolled the money up loose in all my pockets. When it came to closing time, I paid the bill, and emptied one of my pockets, still thinking I still have a bit in the other two pockets. After all the staff had gone home, Jimmy said, "No, no Paul you not leaving...you and I are going to have a real drink now," then grabbed a bottle of whisky from behind the bar. We drank to 6-7am, and then decided to hit the road.

We had to leave by the back door into the rear alleyway, where we parted company. Jimmy went one direction home, and I went around to the front of the bar to catch a taxi. The sun was already blazing, and was quite warm with everyone hustling to their work. I was about to hail a taxi, when I put my hands in my pockets...shit they were all empty! Now my condition was not staggering drunk, I must have drank myself semi-sober, but I could not think rationally. I should have hailed a taxi, gotten him to drive me to the hotel, and made him wait while I get some money at reception...but I didn't...this dozy twat, started to feel sorry for himself. I sat down on the kerb of the sidewalk, like a poor lost orphan, moaning €˜how am I going to get home,' with my head in his hands.

While I was feeling sorry for myself, with my head down, I could hear two pairs of stiletto heals clip-clopping towards me. The closer they got I could feel a cool breeze, with the strong smell of channel No5. Instead of walking on past me, they stopped, and I could feel the hem of a light flowery summer dress brushing against my head. I still had my head down, looking at the ground, but I felt them sitting down, one on each side of me. An arm came over my shoulders in a gentle hug, "What's the matter Pogie?" "I got no money to get home," I sobbed, then I looked up, and saw two beautiful angels, and yes, you probably guessed it, two drop dead gorgeous...Ladyboys.

They spoke a little to each other in Tagalog, then said, "We will take you back to your hotel...but you have to fuck us." Now, this is all very well, but I still have the problem of the priest element with the hotel, let alone walking in with two ladyboys. So I altered my predicament by telling them I had a girl back in my room. They chattered to each other again, and one of them gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "Next time Pogie," and walked away, leaving me with the other.

"Right Pogie! I will pay for your taxi home...but first you must come with me, because I want you to fuck me...OK?" I sort of went, "Yes ma'am." She hailed a taxi and we drove to a motel somewhere. She went in to pay for the room and dragged me inside. We took a shower, then had a right shagging session. After a couple of hours, showered, got dressed, she returned the key and hailed two taxis. She went over to one taxi and paid the driver, and told him where to take me. Then she gave me a kiss, jumped into the other taxi, and we both went our separate ways. I don't mind telling you I was fucked, and slept for the next 24 hours. I made final arrangements with Joe for my next trip to buy the bar, and then I headed off to Angeles City. I usually spent most of my time in the Philippines in Angeles City, as I would soon tire of running the red-light gauntlet in Manila.

The next afternoon, I arranged a taxi to take me to Angeles City, and after a 45-minute drive I arrived at my usual hotel, which was the best place in town. Right beside €˜Check point Charlie,' of Clark Airbase, and was owned by the mayor of Angeles City. As the staff all know me well, I took the driver in for something to eat and a beer, before he went back to Manila. Two waiters greeted me and we sat down, "Ah Paul...good to see you back," then they chatted among themselves in tagalong about me. I asked the driver, "What are they saying?" "I don't know...I can't understand a word" "What?...but you're a Filipino...don't you speak tagalong?" "Yes sure!...but I don't understand them" "Why is that then?" "In tagalong we have 100's of dialects...and although I live 30 minutes away from these guys they speak a different dialect than metro Manila...that's why we all can speak English, so we can understand each other using that." It made sense, in a weird kind of way.

I contacted my little buddy Rene to come and pick me up later. He was a qualified surveyor but they were a dime a dozen and didn't have enough work in that field, so in between jobs, he had a motorcycle-sidecar taxi, that he used to make ends meet. As soon as I was in town, he would drop everything, and hang out with me, for whatever length of time I was staying. The first time I stayed in Angeles City, I noticed how honest he was, and hired him to take care where I went, as there were dangerous no-go areas. I didn't want to stumble into them in a drunken stupor, so he just drove me around avoiding those places. We later became good friends, and as he was getting free booze and meals every day, all I had to pay for was the petrol and maybe a new tire for his motorcycle.
The hotel was for the officers and the well off, and had its own massage parlor and go-go club, within its compound. That evening I called into the go-go club, to see my friend Angel. Now Angel wasn't a dancer, in fact he was an ex-heavyweight boxing champion from Bagio, and was the bartender in the club. As soon as I walked in he opened a bottle of whisky, which we both shared, and got pissed up, with him ignoring his other customers for the rest of the night. He told me it was his birthday the next day, and asked me to come to his party. They were having a barbecue. In the drunken conversation, he seemed to be more interested in, "Have you ever eaten anything weird," and began rhyming off a list of animals including, camel, goat, snake, cat, dog, rat. I just said €˜Yep' to everything he came out with. Then Angel said, "Good!...we're having barbecue goat tomorrow." Well I thought I don't mind that at all, spending most of my time in the Middle East, I have had my fill of that. 3pm the next day, there was a buffet and what resembled a goat on the barbecue, and the go-go dancers all messing about in the pool.

Angel kept pushing me to eat some goat as soon as it was ready, which I did and it was great, in fact one of the best meals I have ever had there. I must have ate a kilo of it, not realizing that the few westerners who were invited to the party, were avoiding it like the plague. I noticed them and the girls watching me scarfing down this great meat, and figured there was something amiss, "What the fuck is going on? What is this Angel?" He burst out laughing and said, "That's not goat...that's dog!" I should have known better, but it was great, so I carried on.

That time Rene and I started to go to the so called no-go area of town, to places such as €˜The Nipa Hut,' and found we had a better time there. That place was unbelievable, a massive proper nipa hut, with trees for walls and a proper thatched roof. We got searched for guns and knives on the way in by a bunch of dancers in bikinis, paid the entrance fee, and got two tickets each for free cocktails, in a proper bamboo cup. The place could hold 300+ and was always packed with three stages, staggered like steps. The highest where the band stood, which looked like a 12 piece band, a lower stage in front of that, then a big main stage in the center, which was used as a dance floor for the customers and could easy hold 20 people, which was surrounded with tables and chairs.

A balcony was all around three sides of the hut, which had tables and chairs and may have held up to 100 people. Come 9pm, the show started with the American owner in a silver cat suit, who resembled Gary Glitter, shouting through the mike, "Are we ready to see some pussy." Then the band started to play, and about 20 naked girls came out and did this cabaret thing with the owner. From there on in it was sex show after sex show, each one never lasting more than 5 minutes, until 3am, 6 hours of extremely perverted fun.
€˜Gary Glitter' would then retire to an actual pulpit on the side of the stage where he would direct the shows. One particular part was when they ask for a volunteer to get a blow job on stage, which a young and very drunk air force guy gladly did. So the poor sod is lying there getting his cock sucked by a naked chick, that probably gives the best blow job there, but he was so drunk, he couldn't keep it up. €˜Glitter' then directed another girl to join in the blow job, but still couldn't keep it up, and then Glitter directed another two naked girls to lap dance on his face, while the first two were busy licking and sucking away, to see if that would do the trick, but with no results. So as this was taking too long, Glitter shouts out, "If you cum in her mouth, its free!...But if you don't cum, you will have to pay."

Another part of the show was when a naked girl was swinging on a rope, from balcony to balcony, like Tarzan's Jane, while the band played one of their made up songs called "Eat my pussy." She would swing to and fro while the band played, and when they stopped, they would shout "Eat my pussy!" and where ever she had landed at that time, she would spread her legs while holding the rope, and the closest guy to her, would have to dig in and have lunch. I remember Rene saying, "I know that girl! She's a university student...shit!...and I thought she was a nice girl too."

The finale was when what I thought were the disco and spotlights above the stage started to come slowly down, and the place filled with smoke, to the theme of Star Wars. The lower the lights came down, I started to realize the lights were actually the undercarriage of a large spaceship, and as it landed on the stage, a door opened, and out stepped 8 naked girls wearing rubber planet of the ape masks, holding ray guns. They walked around the audience and took a hostage each, and dragged them back to the spaceship, the door closed, and the spaceship took off back up to the roof again, returning to disco and spotlight mode, and nobody ever saw those hostages for the rest of the night.
Poor bastards, I really feel sorry for them...NOT!

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 07:22 AM

Chapter 05 €“ Nana Plaza & The Irate Customer

I went back to work, still thinking about buying a bar in Manila or possibly Angeles City, as I had asked about there also. A few months later I scraped up a bit of cash, about $15-20G can't remember, whacked it into a briefcase, and headed to the airport. This time I had the good fortune to have a layover on the way to Manila via Bangkok. When in Bangkok I always stayed at the Nana hotel and made it my base, never venturing outside of Bangkok. So I checked in and put the briefcase in the hotel safe. I then took a walk across the road to the Nana Plaza, in the late afternoon. In those days some of you will remember there was the €˜Woodstock,' on the second floor, right hand side, far corner, as you enter the plaza. This was the best grub in the area, so I had a feed there.

In the Woodstock I bumped into this stunner, which owned a bar in the plaza, second floor, left hand side, the one just before the bar in that far corner, as you enter the plaza. I was having a chat with her, and I told her I was on my way to buy a bar in Manila. She asked me what the hell did I want to go all the way there to buy a bar, when there was plenty of bars here for sale. "Oh really! How much do they go for?"

She told me she was selling her bar, that her and her boyfriend were fed up with it and wanted to do something else. So after I fucked the ass off her for a couple of nights, I decided to buy the bar off her, which had a two year lease. In those days it was called the 707 ago-go.

The staff was about 20 dancers, a cleaner, and a young 18 year old femboy called Joy for service. It was rare in those days to have a ladyboy working in an all girl bar. Joy was a saint, came to work early in the afternoon to help the cleaner, and stayed on all night emptying ash trays and serving drinks. She was the spark of the whole staff, and was worried about getting drafted into the army. Although she had her call-up papers, Buddha was going to get the last say, as she would have to draw out ether a red or black card from a bag held by a monk. I can't remember what color meant what, but if you picked one you were going to the army, and the other was Buddha saying you may not join. So all the staff went to the temple and prayed for her not to go, and as luck would have it, she picked the right card.
This is a time when Dynasty Inn, which is very popular today because of its location, just around the corner from the Nana Plaza, didn't exist. And the Landmark Hotel, which was going to be the biggest hotel in Bangkok, was just a hole in the ground. The best English food in Bangkok was the Copper Spoon, run by Kim, now of Shenanigans, in Pattaya.

The ladyboy scene then was scarce, but in the plaza there was a bar they were all shunned into. I can't remember the name of the bar but it was the second bar on the left hand side, on the second floor, next to what I think was called the €˜Four Roses Bar,' which was the first. In those days it was a bit taboo to go inside there, and I remember sitting out side my bar just watching the punters running past the bar, and unsuspecting punters crawling into that bar, and seconds later running or leaping out of it. I just sat there laughing at it all. In fact, other than that bar, I was the only one who had a ladyboy on the staff, the rest of the owners thought it was taboo.

As inexperienced as I was running a bar, I did all right. The bar wasn't doing much business until I took over, but I had good PR, and got the punters in the door...but not understanding the culture, I had a lot of lessons to learn. It turned out to be quite a lively little bar, and one of the busiest bars in the plaza, but I found it a little difficult to control the girls, until €˜Doc' turned up.

Now €˜Doc' was a very tall, skinny, ladyboy, who always dressed conservatively, and had quite the business look about her. She worked in the ladyboy bar in question, and we always had a laugh when I passed by her bar. Doc came up to me one afternoon outside my bar, and looked like she was upset, "Paul can I come and work for you?" "For God sake Doc...I already have one ladyboy working for me...what's up anyway? I thought you were working in your bar." Then she said, "I have big fight with the boss...and I leave." So I started to think about having one was ok, but having two, well I guess the taboo was affecting me slightly. Then she interrupted my train of thought with, "Please Paul! You don't have to pay me any salary, I work for free...you will see Paul, I good for your bar." So I thought to myself, fuck the taboo, I have always been rebellious, why stop now, "Ok Doc! I'll give you a shot."

Well let me tell you, the first night I noticed things seemed to be going better, staff wise. The second and third night Doc whipped the girls into a good old regimental fashion, those who were a bit lazy were buzzing about, she taught the girls how to pole dance properly, and made sure they knew how to treat the customers properly. I think it was the fourth day, when I pulled her to one side, "Hey Doc! How are you surviving with no salary?" "Ah Paul! I have percent from ladydrink...it's ok."

So I gathered all the staff and had a meeting. "Doc is the new mamasan, you must do everything she says, and she has the power to hire and fire, so now you must respect Doc this way." The staff all cheered and Doc started to cry. "What's up Doc! Don't you want the job?" "No, no, it's not that...I very happy." I started her on the same salary as my top dancers, still cautious of how things would work out. The following month, properly impressed, I gave her a proper salary that befitted her responsibilities.

The Irate Customer

Everything is going great, Doc would open the bar around noon, take deliveries, and order new stock, while Joy and the old cleaning lady, carried on cleaning. We might sell a few drinks during the day, with some customers roaming around the plaza, but we didn't officially open until 6pm.

One particular day I drove into the plaza early, I think it was around 4pm, walked into the bar, and only the old cleaning lady was there, "Where are Doc and Joy?" The old lady burst out laughing, "Doc and Joy off" "What?" "Yes, aammm, customer pay bar for Doc and Joy...go short time...Nana Hotel." I thought they were taking the piss, and expected them to jump out on me from the girls changing room. I was looking around to see where they were hiding saying, "Come on, where are they?" "Ching ching Boss...they go short time sure." The old lady laughed, showing me the bar-fine book.

I don't know about Doc, but Joy was never, ever, bar-fined in her life, and never had been with a farang before. Joy and Doc weren't anywhere near lookers, and because of the taboo, the guys who did take ladyboys would always do it in secret, with the usual arrangement, here's my room number, see you later, kind of thing. You would never see a farang walk with a ladyboy in broad daylight, well...not on purpose anyway.

I was chuffed to bits that Joy finally got bar-fined, but I started to think, €˜wait a minute! A customer comes into the bar, has a drink, then buys Doc and Joy a couple of lady-drinks, pays the bar-fine for the two of them, then proudly walks back to his hotel, through the lobby, all the way up to his room, and all in broad daylight. There's something wrong with this picture!' Either the guy is a nutter, or he hasn't a clue that they are ladyboys. It can't be the second, because they have been gone an hour already, and if he thought they were real females, he should have been back within ten minutes, demanding his money back.

So it's almost 7pm and Doc and Joy have been gone for almost three hours now. Just as I was sitting out side, I saw three figures stomping up the steps (there were no escalators then) to the second floor towards my bar, and yes it was Doc, Joy, and the bloke who paid the bar, and all three looked pissed off. I said to myself, €˜Oh shit, here we go!' I figured immediately that I was right about the nutter bit, and I was also sure he hadn't known they were ladyboys.

First off, he was a little French guy, and must have been a fanatical cyclist, as he was wearing a little tour de France team cap, cycling shirt with some sort of team printed on it, and a pair of cycling knee length Speedos, you know the ones with the built in fanny pad, right down to his special cycling shoes.

When they reached me, I could see frowns on all three faces, so I greeted him with, "All right there mate? Don't tell me some fucker has stolen your bicycle." "What zat you speak?" "I said...I didn't realize the Tour de France came this far south." Then Doc and Joy said, "Boss he not pay us." I got a bit pissed off but I kept my cool, "Hey mate! You didn't pay my girls" "Zey dozen't work ghood." So I pulled Doc and Joy to one side, "What happened?" Doc said, "Boss I give him a long blowjob, and he cum in my mouth, and then rimmed him while he was fucking Joy the second time." "And you Joy, what did you do?" "Boss I lick his balls while Doc gave him a blowjob, and then he fucked me doggie style, and came in my ass, for the second time." Then the both of them said, "Boss for three hours now, we take care of him very very good." "Don't worry girls, I'll take care of it."

So I thought, €˜Yep this is a newbie, by the way he dressed, not understanding our customs around here, and he could really be a nutter.' So I sat the little guy down, got him a drink, calmed him down, and spoke gently to him, "Why did you not pay the girl's?" "Zey dozen't work ghood, yanou" "Now how is that possible? You take two girls for three hours...you cum two times...it sounds to me you had a great time." "Yes, Mon ami, but yanou...I like to see." "What you mean?" He then stands up with his arms stretched out and started to move his hips frontward and backward, as if he was fucking thin air, "Yanou! When I am making zee louve, I like to see zee puzzie...I like to see what I am doeeing...but she not let me look zee puzzie, only za doggie style." Trying to hold back the laughter, I thought, €˜fuck me this twat hasn't copped on to anything yet.'

"And what about the blowjob...was that no good?" "Oh, Mon ami! Zee blowjob was very ghood, but she don't take zee shirt off, yanou, I like zem both nakeeid, but zeh don't take everyzing off." "Listen my friend, didn't you have fun for the past three hours, irrespective of how it came?" "Yes I sink zo" "Was there really anything stopping you from cumming two times, after all isn't that what you wanted?" "Eh, no...nozing really!" "Didn't you really enjoy yourself, after all you cum two times...if you didn't enjoy yourself, well then you wouldn't have cum at all, right?" He then put his head down in shame and said, "Yes, yes Mon ami, I sink you have right."

"Well then, be nice to the girls, as they were nice to you, and pay them" "But I have paid for zeme before in zee bar." Aaaahhh fuck! How the hell did this little twat, get from the airport to his hotel on his own, was beyond me. So I sat him down and explained all the do's and don'ts, and all about the bar-fines etc. etc. "So now you understand how things go here, now will you pay the girls?" "Oh, yes, yes...how much I pay zem?" "Girl's how much you want?" "Boss we want 300 baht each" (that was the norm for ST then). So he paid them with apologies, sat outside for the rest of the night, buying Joy and Doc drinks. After all that, it turned out the little shit was loaded. He didn't stop buying me drinks all night, I think he was afraid to go anywhere else.

Now I don't know what part of France the little twat was from, but by fuck there must be some fucking ugly women there, as he couldn't figure out what Joy and Doc were. Like I said, they weren't lookers.

He was happily pissed around 10ish and he wouldn't let Joy leave his side. I guess you all know what's coming up! Yep! You got it right; the little twat came up to me, happy as Larry, and pulled me to the side. "Mon ami, I want to pay zee bar-fine for Joy again." "No, no mate...you already paid...it's one time, for one day." "Oh, you are zee best friend!" (Best friend! Just wait till you get Joy's cock in your fuckin face.) He sat down outside again, "Joy! Come here a minute." "Yes boss." "You know the little twat wants to take you again tonight?" "Really?" "Yes! So this time you tell him the truth and what you really are...I don't want problems again." "Sure boss, I tell him first." As this was Joy's first farang, and with the afternoon session, which I guess Doc was there to show her the ropes, then sitting with him all night, I guess she was quite comfortable with the guy, and now she didn't mind to go alone with him. He was a really a nice guy also, it was just that element of surprise I was worried about.

I had plenty to do, and didn't pay any more attention to them the rest of the night, until around midnight. When I notice the two of them are nowhere to be seen. "Doc! Where is Joy and little frenchie?" Doc came clip clopping over giggling, "They go already...he check bin about two hours ago." "Oh fuck! Did Joy tell him she was a ladyboy?" "I don't know Paul...maybe...not sure." "You said two hours ago...surely he must know by now, even if she didn't tell him. Has Joy got a little cock or something?" Doc almost fell about the floor laughing and said, "Oh no Paul! I see it...Joy cock very big!" "Well she's not going to hide that all fucking night." Then I imitated little frenchie, with my arms out and moving my hips (fucking thin air) saying, "I like to zee, I like to zee."

Well I had to get a shovel to scoop Doc up from the floor, makeup running all over the place, with a stream of tears from laughing, and later we closed the bar. The next day I came into the bar just before 6pm, "Doc! Where is Joy?" "She not come yet Paul". I remember the music of the €˜Twilight Zone' playing in my head. 30 minutes later, in walked little frenchie with Joy. He must have noticed the surprised look on my face, because all he had was a very satisfied smile from ear to ear, nodding his head, and pacing up and down saying, "Yes, yes, yes, yes." So I just thought yeah! I think we'll just leave it at that, shall we?

It turned out little frenchie was a top bloke, and not a nutter at all, I kind of guessed that later on the first night, he simply just didn't give a fuck, I guess that's why we got on so well. He stayed for a month and barfined Joy right to the last day. He couldn't take her anywhere else, as the taboo got to him a bit. So I had him every night, as my bar was the only comfortable place for him. Joy would help out from time to time, when it got too busy, and some of the old customers that knew Joy would have a bit of crack with her, and I would be going, "Woah, woah, woah, boys. Don't mess about with Joy, or you'll get her big boyfriend pissed off." "What...Joy has got a boyfriend? We don't believe you Paul" "I'm fuckin telling you...get him jealous and he'll tear you all a new asshole." "Is he in tonight?" "Yep! There's the man over there! I would point to little frenchie, slouched on a stool at the end of the bar on his own, and when they all looked round, little frenchie would straighten his back, stick out his chest and would proudly say, "Yes, yes, I am zee man."

"Ah, frenchie, how's it going mate...get that man a drink on me," and pull him into the company. Now they never gave him any stick about being with a ladyboy, they were more curious about him, is he gay? Nope he's as straight as us, and to put it bluntly, they didn't mind buying a drink, or have a bit of crack with Joy or Doc, as they were better company compared to the girls, but you could feel there was something there, but that extra step was a no-no. Then there's this little man, with his head held high, and chest stuck out, flying true colors. I sensed a lot of envy that time, from them wishing they could have the guts to do the same.

The thing was that my customers were mostly English, American, some Swiss, some Germans, very few Irish, in fact I can't remember meeting a fellow Irish man at that time, and even fewer French. I didn't want to have him sitting there on his own, so my job was to get everyone to mingle, and when there is any problems, to get them solved without any fuss, that's good PR.

I did take the piss out of him for wearing the cycling gear the first day, even in front of my English customers, "Go on frenchie tell them why you wore that shit."

Frenchie would say, "Well you know you English is always wearing zee vootball shirts when you go on zee piss...I don't like zee vootball, I like zee cycling...C'est La Vie!" But he actually gave me a bullshit story, the first time, about laundry, when I told him he looked weird and stupid.

After a few days I told him about my escapades with ladyboys up until that time, so I guess that was another element for his ability to not give a fuck, and bear in mind, that was his first time.

I used to wind him up, "Hey frenchie come here! (whisper) You know Joy was a virgin before you came along" "Yes, yes...I noze zize." "Well I think I should charge you double, because back home in the Philippines we do it this way (bla, bla, bla)" "Oh, Mon ami! You are taking zee piss yes, hah yes?"

**Bumpa STIKKA** · 02-26-2010, 09:01 AM

$23.95 seems to be a bit steep but judging by what I have read so far I may well have to get a copy!

Great stuff...

**Nemisis** · 02-26-2010, 10:44 AM

(Bumpa STIKKA @ Feb. 26 2010,15:01) $23.95 seems to be a bit steep but judging by what I have read so far I may well have to get a copy!

Great stuff...

Cheers BS,

Its the dam publisher, that's taking it all......... the royalties are a bit of a joke!

And they are still in the dark ages, they send f##king checks, and the royalties would be a couple of euros per copy.

Here's the joke!

Let's say I sold 15 copies this month........... 45 days after that month I will get a check in the mail for 25 euros (they have an admin fee of 5 euros)

Here in Holland the bank charges 60 euros to process the check.......... therefore I would be out of pocket 35 euros.... Its more trouble than what its worth!

So as I was never motivated by sales in the first place, that's why I freely post the book here........... Therefore all the royalties are automatically sent directly to Father Ray's Orphanage, which is a good trustworthy charity.

That's how it stands now!

Later (in a year or so) if the book kicks off, I can send the finish product to one on the larger publishers, which I was sent a contract a while back, but they had too many rules such as sending the script to critiques and editors who charge anywhere from $200 - $700 just to tell me I spell a word wrong........ before they would consider printing it........ also to be available for book signing any where in the world, that they see fit........... I have no time for that nonsense.

I know a lot of folks prefer to read the book on a plane, beach, by the pool, or in bed, other than on a forum. And when you order it, don't forget where the royalties are going too.

Father Ray Foundation

Mailing Address : 440 Moo 9, Sukhumvit Road, Km 145, Nongprue, Banglamung, Chonburi 20260, Thailand

And BS, keep this thread in the open section for all to read.......... thanks!

**Bumpa STIKKA** · 02-26-2010, 12:22 PM

Why don't you get a PDF copy made and distribute it by chapter through this forum?

I'd happily promote it or give it away chapter by chapter each month to VIP members...

You may even make a few quid out of it. At least you'd get VIP membership!

**Chinaman** · 02-26-2010, 12:51 PM

I don't know how you set up the original files for that book but usually a pdf-version should be a fairly easy thing to do.

I don't know how many of us members here would be interested in purchasing a pdf-copy - I would - and if the price is considerably lower than the hard copy, this could be a win-win situation for everybody involved.

On the other hand, if you sold some 10-15 copies to members here, the whole ordeal might not be worth the trouble.

Perhaps, Bumper's idea is sth to think about - just 44 chapters on a one-chapter-per-month basis would take almost 4 years! ;-( and cost considerably more if people signed up because of the book only.

Did you get any copies you could sell yourself (for less and still make a better profit) and people residing in Thailand could get it either shipped to their address or perhaps a bar of your confidence could stock them? ;-)

If you do just upload the chapters free of charge, that would be very generous.

Many options, up 2 u :-)

**Nemisis** · 02-27-2010, 09:14 AM

(Bumpa STIKKA @ Feb. 26 2010,18:22) Why don't you get a PDF copy made and distribute it by chapter through this forum?

I'd happily promote it or give it away chapter by chapter each month to VIP members...

You may even make a few quid out of it. At least you'd get VIP membership!

Cheers BS,

But I prefer to give it for free, for all to read......... as I don't really agree with this paid VIP thing..... but that's just me of course!

I'm not really motivated on making money........ I'm just more chuffed than anything, in achieving what I set out to do.

And as you know, I always drive over there to the orphanage and make a donation, every trip too Patts........... doing it this way is better........then I can spend my holiday money on the fun and not worry about it............ sort of win win all round kind of thing............. especially as the euro has took a dive, I'll need all of what I can scrape up for this trip.

Thanks anyway

**Nemisis** · 02-27-2010, 09:32 AM

(Chinaman @ Feb. 26 2010,18:51) I don't know how you set up the original files for that book but usually a pdf-version should be a fairly easy thing to do.

I don't know how many of us members here would be interested in purchasing a pdf-copy - I would - and if the price is considerably lower than the hard copy, this could be a win-win situation for everybody involved.

On the other hand, if you sold some 10-15 copies to members here, the whole ordeal might not be worth the trouble.

Perhaps, Bumper's idea is sth to think about - just 44 chapters on a one-chapter-per-month basis would take almost 4 years! ;-( and cost considerably more if people signed up because of the book only.

Did you get any copies you could sell yourself (for less and still make a better profit) and people residing in Thailand could get it either shipped to their address or perhaps a bar of your confidence could stock them? ;-)

If you do just upload the chapters free of charge, that would be very generous.

Many options, up 2 u :-)

Cheers Chinaman,

I don't think BS's suggestion would work out.....44 chapters on a one-chapter-per-month basis would take almost 4 years! ;-( and cost considerably more if people signed up because of the book only.

Yes I did buy 10 copies to take with me next trip, for gifts for friends over there, and on my return I will order 10 more as they will make good Christmas presents for friends over here (excluding family of course lol) but thats as far as it goes........... don't fancy doing door to door at the book shops over here, besides that, language would be a problem as the book is in English.

But thans for the idea though

**Nemisis** · 02-27-2010, 12:20 PM

Chapter 06 - Good Morning Vietnam

So things are going great, until a film crew came over to make €˜Good Morning Vietnam.' They were all originally from Pinewood Studios, but at that time they were all freelancing, as they had closed Pinewood down, or was it cutbacks? I can't remember.

The head cameraman was a guy called €˜Spud Butlins' and wherever he went the rest followed. Well he strolled in early one night with a mate, and seeing that I was the only Paddy that had a bar in the place, he decided to make my bar headquarters for the crew.

They took over a whole floor of the Hilton Hotel, which was half of the film crew. The other half was in South America, doing €˜The Mission' with Robert De Niro. Spud told me the boys in Bangkok were the lucky ones, as reports were coming from the other crew, it was a shithole, and most of it was being filmed in the jungle.

There were two main problems, in the beginning. First, the producers wanted to pay the main leading Thai actress the going rate in baht, but she, and rightly so, wanted the Hollywood rate in dollars. Second, they shipped over in containers helicopters and other military equipment, to make the movie, but the Thai authorities wouldn't let it leave the docks. Instead they were to use all Thai helicopters, aircraft, trucks etc. from a Thai Airforce Base on the outskirts of Bangkok, and just paint them up in American colors, but of course the producers would have to pay for it all. This all held up the movie for just over a month, which didn't worry me as I had the whole film crew piling in every night.

Spud explained, that they all needed someone they could trust when their wives came out to join them in six weeks time, and that I would have to lie through my teeth, that the lads went nowhere else only my place, and that they all had behaved themselves. Of course nothing was farther from the truth, with the odd one from time to time slipping out for a short time, but careful enough not to take any of my girls, so there would be no confrontations when the wives did come.

I pulled Spud about his name, and he told me that it was Ryan O'Neil who gave him that name when they were making €˜Blue Ice.' O'Neil was a bad tempered git, very hard to work with, and he would be cursing every member of the crew daily...all except Spud. Spud was well-seasoned, did everything right, and O'Neil couldn't find a fault with him, except when he did fly off the handle, Spud would be standing there with a knotted hanky on his head, behind the camera, pissing himself laughing.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" "Em, nothing Mr. O'Neil." "Where the fuck are you from anyway?" "Ireland Mr. O'Neil." "Oh! So you're a spud then...and what's so fucking funny?" "This place is like a holiday camp" "Oh, so you think you're in Butlins then" "Yep! The comedian is fucking great!" O'Neil burst out laughing, and from that day on, he always referred to him as €˜Spud Butlins,' and the name stuck ever since.

I had another mate who was managing one of the bars on the ground floor, his name was Harry, a Jordy from England. Harry wasn't that busy and spent a lot of time up with me, having a bit of crack. When they started the filming, Spud came to me with a problem, they needed film extras, but not Thai, they needed Western extras to play the American soldiers. So Harry and I put up posters in the bars, to recruit some, and they were paid 900 baht a day for their services.

It was a bit of a laugh as we got hippies, back-packers, guys who overstayed their visas and all broke. They all had to get their hair whacked off, thrown into combats, and made to earn their money. Harry and I got a few extra bucks for organizing that, and the odd day we would join in some of the scenes, Harry was there most every day, and as I was busy with the bar, I went as an extra two times. Once marching across the screen in the background onto a troop carrier at the Thai Airbase, and on the trucks, when Robin Williams was trying to cheer his GI's up. That took all day as that Williams is a nutter, and wouldn't shut up all day.

Now Robin Williams was a great guy, just hyped up, and throwing jokes out all day. One time Harry and I had nothing better to do and went to one location, where Williams was to do a quiet love scene with the Thai co-star, the two of us and Spud and the crew, and a few others, sat behind the cameras on the grass watching. What should have taken five minutes, took all day, as he had us rolling about in tears.

He had just gotten divorced from his first wife, after she caught him shagging their South American maid, which was still his girlfriend at that time. She was coming over with the rest of the wives, and there was a panic going on as it was rumored that Williams caught the clap from some slut in Patpong, and he had to get rid of it before she came.

Things like that happened all the time! I remember when that twat Stallone was making Rambo III, he fucked some girl from Patpong one night, the next day she shaved her pussy and got a tattoo on it saying "Rambo was here," and then proceeded to charge 10,000 baht a night, just for the privilege of being where Rambo had been. She had the punters lining up for it.

Eventually the wives came over and all hit the bar that evening, Spud's wife, along with another, pulled me to the side, "Paul...did the lads behave themselves then?" "For God sake missus! I thought they were all a bunch of Catholic Priests when they first walked in here." The crack was 90, and mostly all couples now. The odd time we would get some of the girls to do a strip, the wives lapped it up. They got very friendly with Joy and egged her up to do a strip from time to time. Everyone was in hysterics when Joy did it, when she was topless, with no tit of any description, hiding her nipples as if she had a pair of Dolly Parton's, with a quick tuck-in before she flashed her front. Joy ended up being the highlight of the wives' trip.

One day around 6pm, Harry walked into the bar, his face wide eyed, as white as a ghost, with a dead serious look on his face. "What's the matter with you Harry?" "Fuck sake Paul! Pull me a beer and I'll tell you." So I quickly pulled him a beer, and gave him all my attention. "Well?" "You'll never believe this Paul (gulp gulp) I got blown up twice today!" "What?!" (I started to get flashbacks of being back home) Then the little shit smiled and said, "I volunteered to be a stuntman today, €˜cause they are paying 2000 baht for that" "You what?" "Ah Paul you should have seen me, I was fucking brilliant! Shirt all ripped up, blood all over the place!" "Wait a minute! You said you got blown up twice?" "Ach aye Paul! I did it wrong the first time."

He told me they had been trying to do that scene for three days; the film company bought a derelict building on the outskirts of Bangkok to fix up for the bar scene where the kid plants a bomb, but everytime they went to set the charges off, the local cops came and stopped them, demanding kick-backs. Harry said he didn't know what precincts they were all coming from, but it was more than the local one.

They then decided to have a close-up of a wall with a doorway in it, and have Harry and another guy Dave fly through it, with a big ball of flames behind them, as if they got blown out of the bar. Unfortunately, that bit was edited out, but they left the scene with Harry and Dave lying outside, playing dead.

Just before the filming ended a few of us were invited to Kim's place, €˜The Copper Spoon,' for dinner along with Robin Williams, about 15 of us in total. Williams got up and threw a tea towel over his arm and played the waiter, and poured the wine all night, the man just couldn't sit still for a minute, and it was a night I'll never forget. Kim has a photo stashed somewhere of Williams poring the wine for us that night. Wouldn't surprise me if it's not up on a wall somewhere in the Shenanigans.

Just about the last week, Harry came in one night and told me he was over at the Hilton, and that a new film crew just moved in on another floor, about to make a movie called €˜Saigon.' Harry and Dave figured there was a good business here with all their movies being made in Thailand, and they wanted to keep things going. Harry said, "I met your man that's doing this movie Saigon in the Hilton today" "Really? And?" "Well I was over visiting Spud...and thought I would mosey up to their floor, where I ran into the producer, walking two poodles down the corridor. So I said to him, "Hi fella! Are you the bloke that's making this here movie Saigon?" "Aye! Whats up?" "Geez a job mate!" "Have you got any experience?" "Aye! I got blown up twice in Good Morning Vietnam." "You what?" "Aye! I'm a stuntman." "Right you're hired!" "And geez a job for ma mates and all" "Aye! See your man over there."

Harry told me there was a bar scene in it, and he volunteered mine for it, but when they came to check it out, it was too small. So we all piled down to Soi Cowboy to another mate's bar one afternoon. He got three days take-in, all the girls were well paid off, and we got 900 baht (remember that's 3 STs worth!), thanks to Harry, just to sit in the background getting pissed, trying not to look at the cameras, while three American actors had a five minute conversation, which took all day. It started around two in the afternoon and finished around 9pm. The booze was already paid for, so we all sat on till 2am, then took the girls back for a free shag as they were already paid also. The movie was a piece of shit though. Dave went on with the business and ended up international, as I found out a few years later when he came to visit me in Pattaya. Harry simply disappeared.

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