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My Penis is hungry

Nice Videos Of Freelancers

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Just spent some days in Bkk and Pattaya - was struck by the number of falang that I noticed had a palpably creepy vibe - the kind who would tape these girls clandestinely, obsessively - but especially the dudes who seem totally engrossed in watching a shower or lesbian shower, mouth-breathing, endless staring. Feels like there's some weird ones here...

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Something to do when I stay there?

 

Get that just the fact that people shoot that type of video........ unless you are Thailand Red :yikes:

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Alright, just skipped through a bit of it - subconsciously willing the footage back to 2001-2006, even a bit after - the (for me) glory years of Nana carpark, the freelancer scene... but that ain't it, that's the unpleasant anxiety of current-day Bangkok - all dressed up but no fun around, just the bare bones of what once was. I suppose everyone thinks their time was the prime, of sorts - I know the 98-07 period can't compare to what must have been a special magic 20 and 30 and 60 years before... but as far as fun wild good times with the girls, the early oughts was pretty damn good. Beer bars here and there throughout lower Suk, things pretty wild and free, still that palpable sense in the girls that sure they'll go along for the ride, because that's what they do, but earnestly. Goddamn but didn't I fuck myself up by setting myself up to spend first summers then years in that environment - when that's your weekend all year long and you're a young guy with a job you love and nothing to tie you down, and you'd rather be lo-so in the gutter than hi-so in the clouds - what could be better than drinking your way through those nights, eventually learning your way along the wooden boards laid across the muddy paths of this 3 am warren or that dawn-light slum... It's like I was throwing myself down a hill, but the damn hill wasn't steep enough for one good fall, I just kept getting up and throwing myself down again a bit more, a bit more.

 

Not sure whether it's the lucky ones or the not so lucky, but I guess most guys either run off home and get started on the life that's been waitng for them while they sewed their wild oats etc, or some guys find the girl that's the one he goes in deep for, gets married, changes the story line, reaches something of an ending in the Choose Your Own Thai Adventure series... Not me, oh no! I resisted - like a fucking donkey, I resisted. No return home to real life, no deepening the Thai life with one true love and etc etc.

 

But no, I persisted.

 

Just kept coming back - even right to that Nana Hotel sign, I was there last week, and I was there 17 years ago - sometimes it got a little bit deeper, those girls who just wouldn't leave the room, somehow found themselves my girlfriend for some months or so, til it was back to the well for someone new. It got deeper, sometimes, sometimes because she was an angel I couldn't let go, or just because we fit for a while - but mostly it was light, it was just fun, light and fun and stupid and I just drank my incredulous way through it, marveling at the detail, and most always delighted with whoever it was in that taxi on the way home - at midnight, at four, at ten, at two in the afternoon.

 

Didn't take too long for things to get darker - once you spend a little time on the underbelly of the underbelly, it's not so easy to come back into the light - and if you do, it doesn't look quite the same anymore, though you wish it did.

 

I still keep going back. I suppose I'm hoping those crazy days will come flashing back, a sudden surprise, but that's not what happens. Mid-forties now, spent the last twenty years away from 'home', country after country about every two years, it goes and goes. But weirdly, it's just now that I am suddenly feeling the acute sense that yes, actually things do change, and when they die they never come back, what you had before, it's gone forever - you're a fool to look, a fool to think that was something other than ephemeral - it's there in your lost memories, and those Isaan girls with their capacity for names, faces and memories - somewhere there's girls turned to old ladies who yes, might remember this or that adventure, kindness, disappointment.

 

But mostly - it's just gone. That's how things work, which I know, of course - but fuck me, if it isn't somehow hitting me hard on this particular account, the transitory nature of life: my rock, my beacon, has been the freelance late-night girls of Bangkok - even for the Hong Kong years, it was always them... but it's gone.

 

Huh.

 

YimSiam

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To my eye, a few of these freelancers look to be ladyboys. Just some. Actually that's what I remember from the supposed glory days of the car park, whenever you spotted a girl that looked more eye catching than the rest, usually it turned out on closer inspection to not be a girl. Overall, this lineup does look weak compared to when I used to go, also in early 00s. Even then there were plenty of nights I opted to return to my hotel alone rather than settle for the ones I saw. But once in a while, did find a good one. My biggest period was when the Nana disco was still open, when it was an all out freelancer pickup spot. Actually I'd be in there for a while and if I didn't hook up, try car park as last resort. Best time seemed to be not long after the Plaza closed for the night. About 2am.

 

btw the clarity and definition is really good in this video, makes me wonder what he shot it on. Hard to get that good a picture with so little light.

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Nice post, I think it sums up how many of us feel.

 

Alright, just skipped through a bit of it - subconsciously willing the footage back to 2001-2006, even a bit after - the (for me) glory years of Nana carpark, the freelancer scene... but that ain't it, that's the unpleasant anxiety of current-day Bangkok - all dressed up but no fun around, just the bare bones of what once was. I suppose everyone thinks their time was the prime, of sorts - I know the 98-07 period can't compare to what must have been a special magic 20 and 30 and 60 years before... but as far as fun wild good times with the girls, the early oughts was pretty damn good. Beer bars here and there throughout lower Suk, things pretty wild and free, still that palpable sense in the girls that sure they'll go along for the ride, because that's what they do, but earnestly. Goddamn but didn't I fuck myself up by setting myself up to spend first summers then years in that environment - when that's your weekend all year long and you're a young guy with a job you love and nothing to tie you down, and you'd rather be lo-so in the gutter than hi-so in the clouds - what could be better than drinking your way through those nights, eventually learning your way along the wooden boards laid across the muddy paths of this 3 am warren or that dawn-light slum... It's like I was throwing myself down a hill, but the damn hill wasn't steep enough for one good fall, I just kept getting up and throwing myself down again a bit more, a bit more.

 

Not sure whether it's the lucky ones or the not so lucky, but I guess most guys either run off home and get started on the life that's been waitng for them while they sewed their wild oats etc, or some guys find the girl that's the one he goes in deep for, gets married, changes the story line, reaches something of an ending in the Choose Your Own Thai Adventure series... Not me, oh no! I resisted - like a fucking donkey, I resisted. No return home to real life, no deepening the Thai life with one true love and etc etc.

 

But no, I persisted.

 

Just kept coming back - even right to that Nana Hotel sign, I was there last week, and I was there 17 years ago - sometimes it got a little bit deeper, those girls who just wouldn't leave the room, somehow found themselves my girlfriend for some months or so, til it was back to the well for someone new. It got deeper, sometimes, sometimes because she was an angel I couldn't let go, or just because we fit for a while - but mostly it was light, it was just fun, light and fun and stupid and I just drank my incredulous way through it, marveling at the detail, and most always delighted with whoever it was in that taxi on the way home - at midnight, at four, at ten, at two in the afternoon.

 

Didn't take too long for things to get darker - once you spend a little time on the underbelly of the underbelly, it's not so easy to come back into the light - and if you do, it doesn't look quite the same anymore, though you wish it did.

 

I still keep going back. I suppose I'm hoping those crazy days will come flashing back, a sudden surprise, but that's not what happens. Mid-forties now, spent the last twenty years away from 'home', country after country about every two years, it goes and goes. But weirdly, it's just now that I am suddenly feeling the acute sense that yes, actually things do change, and when they die they never come back, what you had before, it's gone forever - you're a fool to look, a fool to think that was something other than ephemeral - it's there in your lost memories, and those Isaan girls with their capacity for names, faces and memories - somewhere there's girls turned to old ladies who yes, might remember this or that adventure, kindness, disappointment.

 

But mostly - it's just gone. That's how things work, which I know, of course - but fuck me, if it isn't somehow hitting me hard on this particular account, the transitory nature of life: my rock, my beacon, has been the freelance late-night girls of Bangkok - even for the Hong Kong years, it was always them... but it's gone.

 

Huh.

 

YimSiam

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