Jimmy Smithers Ladyboy World

Jimmy Smithers Ladyboy World is now available here in expanded form: http://jimmysmithers.wordpress.com/

We wish Jimmy Smithers the best of luck in all of his endeavours, with the stern reminder that Saphan Loy retains all copyrights for his work, as well as all future royalties resulting from motion picture rights, animated films and holiday specials, and all licensed products bearing his name, including, but not limited to shower curtains, lunch boxes, action figures and sex toys. Reportable gross taxable income, however, remains his own obligation and such matters should be discussed with a qualified attorney and accountant.

The View from Above

Hi, all. Thanks for coming! I am at work at my first installments as promised. Today I was kinda busy. I had to have some dental work done, and bring my three cats in for vaccinations. Parts of my bridgework were falling out, and there was some serious decay and some bleeding around the gumline. And the cats ended up crapping all over the car seats. So that took up the better part of the afternoon. But nothin’ to write home about.

So let’s get started. A little more about me, your guide to Thai and Asian ladyboys. Let’s see. I’m not the youngest guy around, and there is quite a bit of extra weight hanging off of my body. Mostly in the stomach and buttocks. This tends to trap some serious odours after I have a bowel movement. I also try to paste a thin whisp of hair over my forehead, but I guess I have to face the music. I’m pretty much bald. And I already mentioned my severe limp and my corrective shoe. I am not sure how I got into ladyboys. I guess one night after having a few too many, I, like many guys in Thailand, was simply duped. That’s how I remember it, anyway. It happened on Sukhumvit. I won’t divulge the name of the place, but I barfined him and went to the Nana Hotel. It must have been 3:00 AM.

When I woke up later the next day, my anus was sore, my wallet was gone, and I had trouble locating my corrective tennis shoe. I guess for kicks she had put it out in the hall while I was passed out. Also, my Timex wristwatch was missing. Yeah, the good one with the calculator. Anyhoo, I think I’ve come a far way since that experience. I can’t wait to share with you all the details in this regular Saphan Loy feature.

I also invite you to submit your own ladyboy experiences and photos here, and I will see to it that it gets published. My email address is jimmysladyboys@gmail.com.

Ladyboy Massage in Phuket

Here is a place in Phuket that features ladyboy massage. It’s called Tootsies. It’s not a plug or anything, because I have never been there. Just an interesting photo for a massage parlour with a unique concept.

Okay. The cats are mewling and looking for something under the bed again, probably some old socks. I hope they don’t throw up. They get really sick whenever I take them somewhere in the car.

She’s no lady. He’s a ladyboy!
Jimmy Smithers, a Real Lady(boy’s) Man

Central Department Store Cosmetics Girl

Hey, hombres. I have to apologise. I know that I just started as a writer here at Saphan Loy, and I was working on a great story about how I pulled a tasty ladyboy from the cosmetics counter at Central Ramintra, but the reality was far different. For one thing, earlier in the day I ate some poisonous Nam Tok and a few Krispy Kreme doughnuts and spent the rest of the afternoon on the can.

When it was time for my date with Moo, I took a cold shower, slapped on some cologne, patted down what’s left of my hair, and put on my best silk shirt. Actually 50% rayon. But she will never know the difference. Then, I went to the market near my apartment and blew about 100 baht on some durians for him/her. They were already cut up and put into little plastic baggies.

As I limped to the corner to wait for a baht bus, my bowels had a different plan for the night. My rayon purple shirt was already soaked through with sweat, and, what’s worse, my trip to the durian seller made me late. Moo howled curses into my cell phone. I told her I was on my way, relax honey, and that the bus was taking too long. Because of my prodigious weight, I couldn’t tell if I was springing a leak back there. Even though I wore dark pants just for this reason, I was still worried about mudding myself.

I then realized that I also didn’t remember what Moo looked like. I had staggered into Central looking for some pencils in the stationery department after downing a few with the guys in my building. Actually, I don’t understand them at all because of my problems with Thai. We just drink and grin at each other. So, I was feeling pretty good as I passed through the cosmetics section and spotted Moo. We chatted as best we could. I gave her my cell phone number, and she was like calling the rest of the night, making love over the phone, saying things like, “You shoowa you my honey. You no lie?” I heard a lot of laughter in the background, but just figured she was at a party or something.

The baht bus takes forever and with the little fans spinning overhead, I am sweating like a stuck pig. My cell phone battery is low, and Moo is calling me every few minutes and cursing at me and pleading with me. I feel like ditching the whole thing and going to Cascades for a beer. Dinner was so so. A lot of people stared at us, but I’m used to that because of my prosthetic shoe. I’m not sure if it was me or Moo they were staring at. I felt like saying to them, “Take a picture, it lasts longer!” But Moo was playing footsies with me under the table with her big feet and clunky high-heeled shoes. Needless to say, I was distracted – wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Plus, the Kamagra was kicking in big time. The oral jelly variety.

I ate a passable bu phat phongali and drank some whiskey and water. I kind of made a hasty exit at one point because of a faint rumble in the guts and some concerns about my severe diarrhea problem. I get back to the table after doing my best to squat on one of those Thai shitters, praying at that point that I wouldn’t fall backward and my rayon shirt would get soiled, and then all of a sudden Moo howls at me about something in Thai and starts motioning for the waitress. I was thinking it had been going pretty well up to that point. I am thinking at least a hand job. I mean, with the durians, the 100 Pipers and all, I thought I deserved at least that.

So, we blew that popsicle stand, and I was feeling pretty good from the whiskey I splurged on. I hailed a cab and was thinking that a short time hotel was in the cards. I took out my digital camera to snap a few pics of my date in all her finery, and she blew a gasket. I mean a full on, hysterical tirade in Thai. She cursed and howled and threatened me. The smartass cab driver is smirking in the rear view mirror the whole time and I feel like I should say something. The next thing I know, the door flies open at a traffic light and she’s gone. There is a stunned silence in the cab. The driver is still smirking. But deep down, I figure, “So long, sister. Don’t let the door slap you in the ass on the way out.”

I look at my good Timex, ole faithful, glowing green in the darkened cab. 11:30 PM. Perfect, I think. The driver awkwardly turns up the radio, some tinny gibberish from the countryside. But it gives me a chance to collect my thoughts. The driver asks, “Where you go?”

In my experience, every cab driver understands that one magical word: Nana. I think about my stomach problems briefly, wondering if I can stay out just a bit longer and salvage what has so far been a night of abuse. I think I can still find a looker at Cassanova if the driver snaps out of his Isaan haze. Through the maze of sidestreets, a bit circuitous since he is probably just racking up the meter charges, I calm my nerves a bit. Look out Bangkok! Jimmy Smithers is finally feeling oh so fine.

She’s no lady. He’s a ladyboy!

Jimmy Smithers, a Real Lady(boy’s) Man

Cosmetics Girl: Part 2

Ok. So I’m back stateside. Sorry for leaving you hanging with that last bit. I had to resume my job yesterday at the tyre center here in the States. It turns out that they hired a temp while I was away, some snotty white girl who rearranged all my filing cabinets and threw out all of the pickled onions I was keeping in the office refrigerator. Then, I got into a huge argument with the menopausal office manager with foul breath. She berated me for something, and I guess I kinda lost it. Screw her. She has been on my case ever since I hung up the ladyboy calendar in my coat locker.

Anyhoo, where was I? Oh, I crammed enough ladyboy stories into my three weeks worth of time in Bangkok. Lots to report. If only my fat ass could tell these stories, including the chilling conclusion to my cosmetic girl story, plus lots of others. Word to the wise if you are flying out of Suvarnabhumi Airport. I was pulled aside as usual, probably because of my severe limp (and also I reeked of Chang Beer, and the lovely Ms. Ming, who I sucked off as she drove me to the airport and really gave me a belly-full). They went through my laptop looking for racy pictures I had taken of Ms. Ming and some of the guys from Cassanova in the short time hotel at Nana. I mean they were pretty tame photos, but hell, I was detained for a long time, and I thought I was going to miss my flight. The customs agents made digital copies of my entire hard drive, all the pics, and all the chat logs with the ladyboys I meet on Yahoo. Once I got through all that, Jimmy Smithers needed a drink, that’s for sure. I cracked open a cold one as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I know, I know. It was only 7:30 in the morning. But what are you gonna do?

So where was I? Yes, I was racing around that night after my disastrous date with Moo. The cab driver is wending his way through the backstreets and when I finally recognized the main road that was actually closer to my hotel than to Nana, I told the driver to stop, as I had to change my soiled underwear. Yeah, I sprang a leak. I quickly went upstairs to my hotel room and broke out the big guns: my adult diaper. This way, I figured I could let loose if I had to and was too preoccupied in Nana. My old buddy, Poppa Percocet was in town too, so I rang him up from the hotel to see if he’d meet me somewhere for the night. I briefly told him about my disastrous date with Moo. He laughed, but said if he wasn’t at the Eden Club still, he’d join me for a few drinks. Deal.

So I get back to my cab, and I’m feeling better in my fresh linen pants and diapers. Also, I’m glad that I’ll see Poppa Percocet tonight. Even though he has a speech impediment, we still get along great, I guess mostly because I don’t understand a word of what he is saying, and we usually get drunk anyway. I was really afraid that my disappointing night would end up as they always seem to do: me in front of my laptop, reading Big Baby Kenny Ng, then clicking over to some hot ladyboy porn, assaulting myself vigorously, then calling it a night.

So, we get to Nana and I spot Poppa Percocet in some argument with a street vendor. Great. He’s trying to buy one of those dried squids on a stick. Because of his non-existent Thai and his speech problem, she thought he was mocking her, or something. There was a whole chorus of street vendors shouting what sounded like, “Pai laaeww….pai laaeww….” He’s fumbling for his money belt, some coins are spilling onto the sidewalk, and he’s grabbing for more squid sticks at the same time. I try to pull him away from this slowly unfolding horror show.

Let’s just go to the bar. Fuck the squid stick, will ya?

Poppa Percocet will have none of it. He next tries to buy some of those spicy fish balls and the lady is waving him away madly, with a sour face and striking him about the neck and shoulders with the same crazy net thing that she uses to keep away the insects. Then, he bumps into a deaf vendor, and I think all hell is going to break loose when some ornery looking Thai hobos get up from their rotten bamboo mats. I think Poppa’s slurry speech and unpleasant manner is medically related to his Bell’s Palsy, but it could have been that he had been drinking since early morning over at Jools. Who the hell knows?

Anyway, I use all my Jimmy Smithers charm to get him away from the street vendors, who want to beat him like a Chinese gong. We duck into ladyboy paradise over at Nana and plot our next moves. Ordinarily, we might pop in over at Hog’s Breath, but Poppa was banned there after an ugly scene that happened last summer when he attempted to defecate in the urinal. But that’s another story for another time.

It’s usually at this point in the evening, the planning stages when Poppa Percocet and I get our serious drink on, when I have to decide if my hemmorhoids will allow me to take one up the poop chute or not. Usually, that’s what happens anyway, hemmorhoids be damned, because of my smaller penis size and the fact that it is almost always flaccid.  Once a nice ladyboy gets a load of my small, limp package and my overhanging flab, I usually just assume the position and forget about topping her. It’s all good.

Okay, ladies. I’ll continue this one later. We just got a tonne of new orders and I have to fill out the paperwork. Plus that snotty girl in the office is yammering on about something and trying to interrupt my train of thought. Saphan Loy has also been berating me since I got back too. I’m afraid I’m not great at deadlines. He says that the Ladyboy Corner is doing quite well and that he needs copy now. So, we’ll keep ya posted.

 She’s no lady. He’s a ladyboy!

Jimmy Smithers, A Real Lady(boy’s) Man

3 Responses to “Jimmy Smithers Ladyboy World”

  1. i want a very femanine big cock ladyboy with big breasts as my partner. who do you have?

  2. pretty page….nd more beautifull ladyboy—–kisses

  3. So, I’m coming back at 6 AM after my nightly 3 hour walk around Bangkok (Gilligan and the Skipper normally finish their tour faster than that) when I run into a ladyboy on the way home. She assures me that she has a big cock. I asked, “Bigger than mine?” She said, “I think so.” I asked, “Really?!” She said, “You can check.”

    Then I had to educate her about my policy. I explained, “The problem is that my policy is to never go with anyone who has a bigger cock than mine.” She challenged me, “But it’s YOUR policy.” I answered, “Yes, but even I am not above the policy.”

    Obviously, 99.9% of the time this policy is not a problem for me. But, there is some small percentage of the time, and I have to take her at her word, so it’s really out of my hands. I’d like to help, but there really wasn’t much I could do about it.

    You see, I’m not one of these guys who applies one set of rules to everyone else but different set of rules to himself. No way I’m going down that road.

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