Bangkok, Cambodia and Hot Boy Sex
Trip Start Mar 27, 2008
3Trip End Ongoing
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BANGKOK: The general rule of the Bangkok roads seemingly is the same as Tom and my mentality soon after 6 pints of the local brew priced at the crazy low price of 60 baht (1 pound to us British), that being 'GET OUT THE FUCKING WAY GO GO GO!'', so travelling around on the oft offered tuk tuks has been a real frightening and ball crushing experience, especially if you ask the driver to take you to the football and he takes you to a backstreet bar to watch 'hard fucking'', which to our suprise translates in English to 'Merseyside Derby'', a warning to randy confused scousers. Obviously we have taken in the sights such as the Grand Palace and local markets, and all the dirty sesspit bars of the Kho San Road, as well as charming market on the clean side of Bangkok where haggling for prices seems to be a particular forte of ours (leaving a new watch and a shiney new belt better off). As is patently obvious to anyone who has spent private time with the Tom-James connection, sometimes known as The Jacobean Era, we like to sample all the bars and beers available, and the best part about doing that in Bangkok is that one can instigate a hooker war between rival factions. After several girls from one group suggested Tom was very handsome and likeable (claims i put down to drugs, dim lights, poverty and the Gonnorohea virus), we (by we I mean Tom) foolishly bought drinks for another group, leading to the obligatory death threats and the necessity to move onto another bar with a 34 year old Thai nurse, a thai kickboxer and the aforementioned fat hooker, long island iced teas the order of the day and much joviality was had by all. What happened next is anyones guess, but needless to say we got the hell out of the Kho San dive soon afterwards...
ARYAN PRAPHET/ SIEM REAP: After the drawn out 7 hour train journey from Bangkok to the border, in which I managed to pass out in the arms of a Thai teacher and his female students, we settled up in the quiet backwater of Aryan Praphet outise Poipet. With nothing to do until morning, Tom and I settled into our customery Heineken bender, which ended after the proprieter of a late night house of ill repute offered me sex with his transexual son for the head twirling price of 1000 baht. Now i'm not against the idea of prostitution, but i felt the price to be too high and needless to say we made our excuses and left, besides you should have seen the kid, one of those confusing 'is that a femenine looking man or the ugliest looking woman ever' momnents. Admittedly that led to some curiosity about the state of the boys genitals but for that price my curiosity did not get the best of me (thankfully). However, if you ever are in a Thai bar and you have 5 or 6 Heinekens, the sound of 4 absolutely gorgeous 15-22 year old girls saying bye to you simultaneoulsy can make any red blooded all american type switch brain controls from north to south, however the full size mars bar in my pocket had dissuaded enough for me us to move on.
After an early dash to get some passport photos taken to enter the oft renamed Kingdom of Cambodia, where you are warned at the border if at all possible not to sexually violate theit children, a legacy of poverty that shames the Khmer Rouge period and the agrarian revolutions of Pol Pot, but of course is a source of much Chubby Brown-esque innappropriate humour. The border patrol attempted to scam us out of our money in every conceivable way, which led to an aggressive stance used by me and my good companion not seen since the days of Millwall-West Ham hooligan brawls in the 80s, taking no shit was so high on the agenda that even a guy from the thai tourism association (apparently) who greased the wheels of our tumultous passing, even get a verbal 'fuck off' rocket or two from my usually reserved manner, needless to say i didnt tip the little helpful bastard. The road in the share taxi was not so much paved with gold as smashed to absolute buggery due to heavy rinfall the day before, and the dusty trails though malnourished cows and people was often too much for one Honda to take, resulting in 6 break downs and one stop off in a small village to fix our knackred little engine that couldn't. Throughout the journey my ass took more bumps and bruises then the avrerage bangkok bordello rent boy, but after 4 gruelling hours we made it to sien reap and partook in several beers with a group of australin/ english girls, whose names are a mystery to my beer addled memory, but Portsmouth, Chinese Aussie, Shouty and Skinny it was a rare pleasure to drink with you! Cambodia is clearly finincially behind thailand, resulting in a penchant for selling anything and everything, therefore the anything goes mentality can be a touch intimidating. However, they seem to have grapsed the western concept of over charging to see national monuments, as a visit to the beautiful Angkor temples was a cool $20, plus $10 for our Gok Wan driver, who nicely drove us around all day before offereing us a chicken ranch sex party which we found most unexpected.
As i speak we are recovering from last nights monster beer session, which has resulted in us having to spend an extra day here in the beachless corfu of cambodia, Sien Reap. However to the two girls whose names i dont know who saved me and my faithful companion from the usual row about football (this one instigated by the presence of Yossi Benayoun on TV), we thank you for a cracker, as well as the Canadian boys straight from Stu Harts dungeoun, the man from Tonbridge, the Swedish girls and the bottle jugglers, who were so fun they even managed to lift Tom-James II out of a funk after the Russians failure to beat the Turks in the Champions League.
So thats all I can be bothered to write about at this time, if i remember anything of interest i'll be sure to let you know. My good friend Tom and I are now going for dinner to continue our frightfully catchy game 'can you name Coventry City Players who played for them in the Premier League', that is sure to be picked up by network TV anyday now. Onwards into Cambodia then, with an English heart beating proudly from the chest, pale skin reflecting all light before it, and Premier League tackle in out Primark jockey shorts. Stay tuned for further developments and best regards to John Paintsil.