The Chronicles of Foster Foskin's Adventures in Thailand 6

By now, me and Bluey were startin’ to get the hang of things in Thailand. We’d already tried out a few bars, and I’d had a beach massage, but we wanted more. So, we decided to take our chances and just wander around Pattaya and see what we could find.

It didn’t take us long to chat up a couple of shielas we met on a Baht bus. They looked like bonzer shielas, but the one I had talked a blue streak. She just wouldn’t shut up. So I reckoned the best thing to do with her was ter take her back to the hotel and indulge in a little oral sex for a while. At least that way she’d have her mouth full and I’d have time ter think of some poetry. Yer might as well read this while I get on with some serious business with the shiela.

ODE TO AN AUSTRALIAN

The Pommy is a funny bloke
‘E talks just like ‘es ‘ad a stroke
And the Yank ‘e talks out through ‘is nose
I’d hate ter talk like one of those

But an Aussie ‘e knows ‘ow to talk
‘E tells it like it is, ‘e walks the walk
Yer’ll never catch ‘im out in a lie
'E’ll tell yer the truth an’ spit in yer eye

Now a Kiwi is almost the same as me
Except ‘e talks like ‘es swallowed ‘is wee-wee
It’s hard to tell which is which at first
But an Aussie’s got a bigger….thirst

We’ll drink until the cows come ‘ome
Nothin’ left except the foam
And then we’ll have a couple more
Before we head on out the door

And before we get home late at night
To the welcome glow of the wife’s night light
We’ll give ‘er a break and have a chunder
It’s a cheerful sound, just like thunder

We call it the Technicolor Aussie Yawn
Full of beer and chips and prawns
And we’ll stagger on, me and me mate
Until ‘e leaves me at the front gate

I grope me way in through the front door
The wife is waitin’, what a bore
I looks at ‘er and she screams at me
Oh, shit mate, she’s got it in fer me!

Well, I tells the wife how ugly she is
She retorts, “You’ve been out on the piss.”
“You’re drunk again, and not on soda.”
“Yeah I know,” says I, “but I’ll soon be sober.”

It's funny what yer think of while yer enjoyin’ yerself. By the time I’d composed me rhyme me shiela was doin’ fine. I paid ‘er off and told her to go. Then I knocked on Bluey’s door and was greeted with a grunt and a shout, “Get out of here yer bludger, I’m not finished yet!” So I wandered downstairs to contemplate our next move.

Now I have ter tell you that Pattaya was definitely lookin’ interestin’. There’s more good lookin’ sheilas per yard than I’ve ever seen, even more than in Perth. So I got on the hotel’s internet and started to surf, lookin’ for sites to tell us where to go and who to do.

That’s when I came across this Stickman site. Good name, I thinks to meself. So I starts browsin’ thorugh the stories from blokes like us who have come to enjoy the pleasures of that good o’l Thai Crack.

There was some real funny stories there. One bloke, a Yank I reckon, called himself Dana. What a raver! He jumped all over the place claiming to be a great cocksman, able to root sheilas all day and night and still have time to squeeze a coupla boys in as well. I made a note to meself to keep me bum hard up against the wall if I ever met that character.

Then there was a lot of blokes from all over the world who’d come here and fallen hard for some sheila who had the blokes more confused than a goanna on a hotplate. Hard to believe these blokes could be so silly with the sheilas. I mean, there’s plenty of Thai crack around. Why tie yerself down to just one? Maybe these blokes haven’t heard how to fall in love like we do in Aussie. We always knows when we’re in love back home. That’s when she pats you on the arse and says, “You’re in, love.”

I was doin’ plenty of learning meself here in Thailand. So far, I’d managed to stay out of trouble, and I aimed to keep it that way. I reckoned I could take all this beaut experience back home and show the sheilas, and me mates, a few things after this trip.

But before I do that I’ll have to sample some more of the pleasures this beaut country offers, and that means I need me mate Bluey ter help me explore. He’s a good one to protect me back, and with all these different sexes we was runnin’ into Bluey was invaluable.

While I’m sittin’ there, Roland strolls into the lobby and spots me.

“G’day mate. You been keeping busy?” he asks.

“Yeah, and you? How did your meeting go with that bloke Earnshawe?”

“Well, yer wouldn’t read about it. The silly bugger has been getting into more trouble than Flash Gordon. He’s had to do a runner down here to Pattaya to get away from some shiela up in Bangkok who wants to do him in. I heard he was also in trouble with the police for impersonating a monk, but that’s unconfirmed.”

“Crikey! What’d ‘e do?”

“Well, ‘e got involved in a gem deal, buyin’ diamonds and such to sell back in England. Anyway, the shiela he was dealing with reckoned he took the gems and didn’t pay her.”

“Surely he had the paperwork to prove ‘e did?” I said.

“Nope, he trusted her.”

“Duh! So what happened?”

“Well, she started by ringing him up, demanding payment and threatening to have him killed if he didn’t pay up. The silly bugger didn’t know what to do at first, so he didn’t do anything. Then, when the threats kept coming and she kept increasing the amount she wanted, he decided to move to another hotel. That was a smart move, because he found out later that she sent a couple of gunnies around. They were banging on the hotel door and nearly shot some poor geezer who had taken the room after Johnny.”

“Blimey. So what happened then?”

“Well, she had Johnny’s Yahoo ID and his mobile phone number. She kept sending him messages and finally she slipped up. She sent an SMS death threat. That’s when Johnny went to a lawyer, and he advised our pommy mate to go to the police. The lawyer took him to the chief of the CID and they set a trap for this shiela and her henchmen.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Johnny told her to meet him at his new hotel and she turned up with the two gunmen and met him in the lobby. One of the gunnies pulled out his gun and told Johnny to lead them upstairs to his hotel room. That’s when the cops pounced and arrested the three of them. I don’t reckon he’ll be bothered by that shiela any more.”

“Crikey. He was lucky. So what did he want to see you for?”

“Well, now he’s spent all his money on the diamonds and the lawyer, so he needed to raise some cash ter stay here a bit longer. I bought his gems and sent them off to me missus in Australia. I reckon we’ll make a tidy profit out of that little venture.”

That was good news. I reckoned it wouldn’t be too long for old Johnny Earnshawe to get into some hot water the first time I met him. He was just too naïve and trusting. I hope he’s learned something from his troubles.

Anyway, just then Bluey staggers downstairs. He was lookin’ definitely peaky. “Hey, are you alright mate?”

“Yeah, thanks Fos. Just had a very active session with that shiela, that’s all. I need a beer.”

So, we all trooped out to the nearest beer bars at the Marine and settled in for some drinkin’ while we worked out what to do for our next adventure. We were into our second beer when I noticed this Sheila behind the bar kept makin’ eyes at me. But I ignored ‘er. She did ‘ave a nice pair of knockers, but when I’m concentratin’ on a beer I like to give it me undivided attention.

Finally, she leans over displayin’ some very tasty cleavage and says, “Why you no meet my eyes when I look at you?”

So I says, “Well, tits don’t ‘ave eyes love.”

That got ‘er laughin’ and we started getting’ to know each other…you know, the usual…What you name, where you come from, and you want to go back to hotel?

It was still early and I’d already had some fun, so I told ‘er to wait until later. “Maybe I not here later. Why you not pay bar now and we go len sanuk together?”

That sounded like a good idea, but Roland butted in and said it would be better not to limit our options this early in the night. Besides, Bluey still looked a bit orf. It would take several more beers before he got his sea legs again. ‘E might be a bit of a larrikin, but ‘e’s me best mate. So, Roly and me decided to stick around a while. Roly and me was shootin’ the breeze when I asked him what else we could do in this cocksman’s paradise.

“Have you had a soapy, yet?” he asked.

“Dunno mate. What is it?”

“I’ll take you there after this beer, mate. You haven’t lived till you’ve had a soapie. And it looks like Bluey could benefit from one too. I guarantee you’ll both feel like new men by the time you’re finished.”

“Eh? What makes you think I’ll be interested in any man after a soapie? What the hell are yer suggestin’ mate?

Roland laughed, like ‘e did before at Red Point. I relaxed, If ‘e was plannin’ another surprise like that I was all for it. I couldn’t wait.

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Next, Foster comes clean….

© Written in 2006. All rights reserved by the author.