One of the difficult aspects of drumming up the energy to write this blog in a place that exudes the tropical languor of a newly restored banana republic is the fact that the world-notorious Bangkok nightlife scene is decaying, and my two bar girls, Lek and Tuy, keep me well occupied here at Saphan Loy with their operatic complaints, occasional sexual favours, and vapid displays of their Thai frivolity. In short, I find all I need within the walls of my private pleasure palace.
Recently Lek, to my delight, somehow procured a special green herb that in Thailand grows everywhere. She brought home the cured reproductive bud of the plant in a plastic bag. Tuy knew just what to do. She immediately began rolling the dried material into cigarettes, as though she had done this for years. The three of us shared the fag, and a most pleasing calm took hold of us.
And for the rest of the evening, all we really managed to do was watch the telly, grin like idiots, and eat mango and sticky rice. However, our “special” evening routine was anything but routine, and we will leave it to you depraved sex tourists to conjure your disgusting fantasies on your own. Let’s just say that it involved basic acrobatics, gender confusion, and far too much rice whiskey.
Stick’s site is now entirely dedicated to ladyboys.
Bar Bloggers Under Martial Law
A perusal of the nightlife blog and website scene reveals the following, in the event that any of you still actually care:
Stickman has officially redirected his readership to our old friend and reader, Will Morledge at Bangkok Eyes. This is ironic, since Morledge’s site is actually more interesting than the Stick’s ladyboy folly. The mostly softball questions of the interview were just as one has come to expect from the Stick: pablum and mutual masturbation, with a tone that suggests, “Ooh, look at us old timers in Bangkok! We should feel so proud of ourselves! Let’s celebrate by splitting a Ladyboy!”
Big Fat Baby Kenny Ng is still on the web. Have a mosey and a gander. While the sex tourism economics professors seems to have abandoned it, the Thai whore blog nonetheless preserves all of his race baiting, misogyny and delusion intact. Does the University of California at Northridge even have a tenure review process?
Mobi has officially sold his bar on the dark side of the lake, and renamed his Thai paramour “Lek.” Not, of course, to be confused with Saphan Loy’s “Lek.” Mobi is still valiantly putting up the good fight, onward Christian soldiers, and all that rot. In today’s post, Mobi points out all of the endearing charms of General Prayuth. This is interesting, since it echoes “Bill of Phuket’s” experience as well, a hotelier who finds virtue in martial law. As Sylvia Plath, the suicidal poetess once wrote:
“Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.”
Is “Bill of Phuket” one and the same from the eponymous Stephen Blather story?
Full Moon Waning
Once upon a time, when SL was still able to drink until dawn (and certainly in the pre-Lek and Tuy days), we visited the island of Koh Phangan, if only to see for ourselves the general depravity on offer. Although we were not there during one of the ever-popular “Fool Moon Parties”, we nonetheless got a very good sense of what the backpacker scene was like in the fabled “paradise” of Thailand.
I was travelling at the time with a Western woman, whom I will call “C”, and who, at the time, was SL’s closest companion, lover, and, in more instances than not, apologist. In the early days of SL, there was much to apologise for, and her tolerance and loyalty were beginning to fray, however slightly, in this remote, semi-abandoned bungalow operation.
When is the next fool moon?
The bungalows seemed to be haphazardly constructed around a small coconut plantation. In truth, the rudimentary architecture of the small village seemed to have been created by inebriated children. There was a very basic structure that housed the local sundry from which one could purchase serious provisions (Chang Beer and some bags of delicious chemical foodstuff comprised of many small brown coated peanuts, which, in turn, were characterized by a sweet coffee flavor and a crunchy coconut shell).
Built on simple cinder blocks, the walls of the shop-house were made of tin. For those brief few days, SL brought much joy to the merchant for daily beer purchases, surely enriching the man beyond what custom he would have otherwise anticipated. But, seeing that we were the only custom on that rainy weekend, I am sure I amply made up for in the quantity and frequency of which they were purchased. It never hurt to avail myself of 5 baht shots of rice whiskey by the glass either.
Keep ’em coming, sweetheart.
The most recent atrocity committed on Koh Tao, one of Thailand’s celebrated bucolic isles in the Gulf of Siam, only adds to the growing list of reasons one should avoid a trip until such time as domestic tensions have been eased by the hands of a particularly skillful masseuse in a short, polyester dress.
Western media went berserk over the bludgeoning deaths of Hannah Witheridge and David Miller, aged 23 and 24 years respectively. The couple met their tragic demise on the tiny island at the hands of unknown assailants. Because of the enormity of the crime and Thailand’s desire to keep crimes like this under wraps, a full scale police investigation (including assistance from the FBI) was launched to capture those cowardly Burmese immigrants responsible. When in doubt, blame it on the Burmese.
Thai tourism has suffered from a cascade of problems.
It has become clear that tourism in Thailand is suffering. Martial law does not exactly conjure images of free love and Bacchus in the Land of Coups d’Etat. But Saphan Loy lives here, and we have become happily pacified in our pleasure palace. And yes, occasionally, SL will stagger from his minx-infested condo and get into a cab to be shuttled to the dubious whore districts, where I lose myself in the grotty smells and sights of an industry now dominated by Ladyboys, and the Stickmen of the world who love them.
The View from Above