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...so I'm making my back to the hotel right...?


carew66

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The delights of Bangkok eh? I travelled up last Saturday to meet up with Sileakhunt, N400 and Kipster. There was also to be a special guest appearance by the eponymous Village Idiot but, true to form and fully justifying his sobriquet, he had lost his phone and was not contactable.

 

After a few drinks we went our separate ways. I was staying in a flea-pit on Soi 4 ? actually the Swan Inn, which at 500 baht is a good deal ? but decided to repair for a drink at the Die-Nasty Inn.

 

As I was about to enter I heard a voice say something in English. I couldn?t work out where the voice came from. This is a bit worrying for me; y?know, hearing voices and all that? I can?t be too careful.

 

I looked down and around and saw a very ugly leprechaun sitting on the tiled area of the hotel with a young bar girl. The leprechaun was smoking a cigarette and peered at me through a veil of blue mist.

 

?Sorry??, said I, believing that a request had been directed at myself.

 

?Ye what?? quoth the leprechaun for it was a Scottish leprechaun and therefore not a leprechaun at all but a product of too many fried Mars Bars and Irn Bru.

 

?No, I?m sorry. I thought someone was talking to me?.

 

?If I was talking to ye, ye cunt, ye?d fucking know aboot it?, it said, bald head gleaming in the neon; football shirt corsetting rolls of fat as they slowly escaped his tracksuit bottoms.

 

I decided then not to go into the Die-Nasty and continued on my merry way to the Family Mart where I purchased beer and snacks for myself and my companion.

 

The incident did not spoil my night. Perversely it enhanced it. But should he, or any of his ilk read this (in between surfing the net for ?Cocks in Frocks?) may I congratulate him on being able to travel such long distances without there being a war or a prison at the end of it.

 

And I ask that, when he reaches his stinking hovel on the heroin infested shit-pit of an estate that he calls ?home?, that he has the ?Bangkok Blues? so bad that he commits fucking suicide, choking his last on his favourite bottle of Brut 33.

 

Oxygen Thief.

 

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Anyone got any cheese?

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That's funny. :) Last saturday, I was minding my own business lounging on the tiled area of the Dynasty Inn with a young female Chulalongkorn University Associate Professor discussing Heidegger's second theory of being and it's influence on post-Derridean historicist positivism, when this extremely drunk English bloke ? the absolute spitting image of country singer turned actor Mr. Lyle Lovett :hubba: ? accompanied by an equally-pissed, obvious katoey :down: staggered past. He stopped beside us, cast his glazed and glassy gaze on us and, without salutation or further ado, slurred in a voice so loud that all could hear; "Do you want a fight, you fucking bald-headed fat midget cunt?!" ::

 

I realised how drunk the guy was right then: I have a full head of hair and weigh only 75 kilos ? not bad for a man of 5 foot 11 inches in height. :o

 

I replied, sotto voce and politely, "No, not at all. :nono: Please, chill out, mate. I'm simply minding my own business lounging on the tiled area of the Dynasty Inn with a young female academic, my friend. Let's not start any trouble, eh? :) Let's just all enjoy ourselves in this beautiful land of smiles." :hug:

 

I was genuinely scared to the depths of my Armani suit, for the inebriated Brit, in his torn football shirt and sagging tracksuit bottoms, :drunk: was clearly too far gone to understand sense ? indeed, most likely on drugs of some sort. :clown: But, luckily for myself and my young female friend, he and the hideously ugly ladyboy on his arm turned on their heels and, with a loud "Fuck you, you cunt! Fuck the lot of you! I'll take you all on. What are you looking at, you tuk-tuk driving slanty-eyed cunt...!?" :cussing: from the Pom, they thankfully lurched off in the direction of the Family Mart. :rolleyes:

 

Moments later, I heard police sirens and raised voices from the direction of the aforementioned convenience store. :o Predictably, our intemperate Englander had waltzed in there and immediately smashed a bottle of Chang beer fresh from the fridge over the head of a rather large American gentleman, :( whose three equally large friends had then proceeded to give the Englander the sustained kicking he so richly deserved. :doah:

 

The last thing I saw was the ambulance ferrying him away whilst the katoey looked wistfully on with tear-filled eyes :( and simultaneously picked the pockets of a drunken German tourist onlooker. ::

 

Hope that's helpful. :drunk:

 

jack :help:

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  • 2 weeks later...

Baseball bats? Hilarious.

 

Cheers Jack! I was there last night as well. Bangers. Soi 4 etc. Mind you I spent most of the night in Chequers. Why? I dunno, I dunno.

 

I shall be back there on Friday as well and playing out once I have finished 'business'.

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Lovely Story, I wish I didn't know that it was so realisitic

About 10 weeks ago Some drunk thought he could turn the bushes in front of the Marriott Bakery into a ST Hotel. Little did he realize that those dining in the resturant we in full view.

I was in the bakery getting an eye opening espresso on my way to Morning Night Bar to shoot some pool. Novel event,

apparently no so except that it was barely after dark...

 

What a sceen!

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  • 2 months later...

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