Humor

“Bloody hell mate! Didja see them bloody women when I asked ‘em if they was up fer it?”

That’s when he felt something pushing its way forward. With a yell he pushed the girl away and roared, “She’s a bloody boy!”

A whimsical & frustrating account of trying to make oneself understood on my very first trip over to the LOS

She moved in and thrust her hand down the front and grasped him softly in her hand. She took it out and looked closely at it.

Yeah, I dated western women for a long time. What a bore! Fat pigs with their own agendas that only included me if I went along with what they wanted. Gimme, gimme, gimme.

A broken body cast on the rubbish tip of broken hearts, Hell hath no fury like a McTavish scorned. Thinking he had been rejected by Pie, Laph was now on a suicide mission of booze and birds.

Laph had managed to get up on time during the week. He put his head down and worked furiously through some of Don's outstanding tasks. Don was pleased with his work, Laph even refusing lunch with Steve. It wasn't because Laph was dedicated but it was because he needed to be on time to get through the door of Renoir at 5pm, start of the happy hour and better still the start of Pie's shift.

Laph rose slowly, but in good health for the first time in a few days. He quickly came to his senses and realised that he had to front up to work. He checked the alarm clock, it was 7am. Thank god thought Laph he had not slept in.

Laph slowly stirred in bed, reluctantly opened his eyes gingerly looking next to him for the Amazon Woman. The space next to him was bare except a lone long black hair across the pillow. He rose slowly, he felt like he had gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson ...

At about midday Laph begin to stir. Sitting on the edge of the bed holding his head, Laph felt like a mule had kicked him and his mouth felt like the bottom of a budgie cage. He rose gingerly and checked under the sheets just in case one of those Katoey’s might be there, as Laph had night mares about Agnes having a plonker ...

Seated at Casanova’s Laph and Steve chatted while looking at stunning but strangely tall girls dancing on the stage ...

Laph awake, laid there next to this small brown body of Bee, curled up like a kitten. It was all like a dream, his head was spinning and he was unable to focus his attention on any thing. The thoughts of hiking, fishing, Agnes and Scotland were disappearing slowly in a haze ...

Laph was speechless as Doug spoke to Bee in Thai. Not because Doug spoke Thai but at the beauty and smallness of Bee. She had sat next to him, occasionally brushing Laph with her hair as she turned to talk to Doug. This was like a magic wand on Laph, mesmerising him into a dream world. All previous thoughts of home, Agnes, hiking, etc, were erased with each brush of the hair. A smell of Johnson's baby powder and that just-showered scent wafted through the air as Bee moved.

On a Saturday night Thaddeus Thunk was half way through his customary ten or twelve Tequilas slumped on the corner couch of Safari Bar – a timeworn and tame Go-Go bar on Patpong 2. The bar had become one his favorites due in no small part to the way that the low ceilings and stages framed the dancers but certainly no less due to the familiarity with which the staff addressed him.

It was now 2.30 am, Laph confused and dishevelled entered the Thermae Coffee Lounge, with thoughts of a pot of tea or maybe something stronger, to wash down his mutton and pickle sandwich. Which had not weathered the journey too well , after been tipped out of the back pack twice, it had taken on the appearance of a old sand shoe with green stripes and most likely tasted the same ...