KenW

Lunch today with the lovely Ms Mee. At my favourite swish Indian restaurant in the city. Lots of good feeling getting to know you type joking, little pats and nudges. Then to a mini hotel where short time room rent in VNese currency was about 3.50 USD. She gave me the most wonderful blow job I have had since fish began to swim. I wished I had got around to buying the point & shoot Bb's been talking about on his photography thread. I will soon. Then I'll try to emulate him and Mr duke with some keep your feet out of pic shots for you all to enjoy. She's quite a nice kid.

Presumably that means left stone and right stone, both hanging invitingly beneath the holy living lingam.

Voted yes. I'll be there.

It certainly would PD. I invited her to lunch day before yesterday but she was otherwise tied up (by who?). However, she called then sent me 2 texts apologising. Name is Mee - how cute is that? Went back to the eatery that evening and got lots of nudge nudge wink wink smiles from just about all the waitstaff. She been blabbing. That's cool, may indicate some genuine interest. Lots of nice smiles and coy little glances at me, and I got one smack on her right buttock on my way back from the loo.

I don't know whether this qualifies, for it's the strangest non-sexual encounter. I first put it up here on the forum in my Love at First Sight adventure from my Vietnam LBs thread - but most FMs won't have read it there, and any who have will have forgotten it, so here goes again. Around small lanes and alleys in Little India, Singapore, such as Hindoo St, there are brothels (or were anyhow, not sure if they’re still legit as of 2011) populated by LBs (I met a gorgeous one from Malaysia) and by subcontinental hijras (the ones Professor Serena Nanda called “neither man nor woman” in her book of the same title). My first hitup at one of these was simply an unmarked doorway, plain wooden door open, behind which there was a steep staircase. The action took place upstairs, and I thought well, I wonder what might befall me up there? Stairway to Heaven? I doubt it, especially if one of those 40 year old hijras gets you in a deathlock. In the doorway lounged two hijras, old, ugly, fat (same as me) with this gorgeous 22 year old Malaysian LB standing a metre apart from them, on the footpath. I chatted and flirted a bit, but it being so early, I told them I needed to eat and have some strong drink, after which I would return. I hoped my wink to the Malaysian would be interpreted as something like: wait for me. I walked a couple of blocks to an Indian eatery I wanted to sample, had a superb meal, with a couple of carafes of red, after which I was ready to go wandering again. In one of the lanes near Hindoo St – a rabbit warren of door to door brothels, ground floor, all open, whores lounging like buxom bunnies on divans and settees, but as far as I could tell, only populated by GG types, many of whom were old hags, literally, like some of those you find in the beer bars on Second Rd, Pattaya, the white roots of their bottle dyed hair showing through at the parting – I bumped into a chap, when I was too busy, like a Jabiru exploring a marsh pond, craning my stickybeaking neck at all these sights. Though he didn’t look all that much like a fellow traveler, it was immediately obvious from his body language he was, and hoping I was, he sent out several unspoken signals, following which I nodded. He took off, walking quite fast up the alley, looking back over his shoulder, like a scoutmaster with a trailing troop of initiates, presumably leading me to a site for satisfaction. In fact before we got to the end of the alley he had to stop and wait for me to catch up. When I got to within about three metres of him he took off again. When I reached the footpath of the big drag Serangoon Rd I drew breath. There he was again, pretending to look over the goods of a street vendor. He looked up, making eye contact with me. As soon as I got to within touching distance, he off once more, plunging into the traffic as if determined to die right there and then. A shaggy dog slipped onto the roadway as though shadowing the scoutmaster. If I wanted to be part of this I had to do likewise. Perhaps a red light would part the rollercoaster of cars trucks and vans like Moses parted the Red Sea. It didn’t. I held my breath and stepped off the kerb into six lanes of terrifying Formula 1 lunatics going a thousand miles an hour. I lived. (Vietnam has some redeeming features: at least it’s taught me to cope with serious mayhem on the roads.) This scoutmaster’s trek went on for several blocks on the other side of Serangoon, down alleys, up alleys, round corners, there he would be waiting me. Then taking off. I kept checking over my shoulder for his accomplices. Be prepared. But there were none in sight. In each dark spot I stared hard at the small groups of men staring hard at me from behind the glowing tips of cigarettes, their eyes bulging white like Murali about to deliver his doosra. He had me going for fully 45 minutes this guy, after which I was in a lather of sweat, getting impatient, wondering why he had not led me to any open doors, to any mini hotels, to any house, to the glans of his cock. Then the next leg of following had me suddenly in this crowd of about two thousand subcontinentals all baying and braying, as they sought instructions for, directions about, bus departures. It was like being outside Eden Gardens; I waited for some tout to try to sell me a ticket. This was a huge open block from where long distance buses came and went, a terminal of sorts. Were we bound for Bangladesh? My sex partner had disappeared. I wandered the parking lot between buses, through throngs, hoping he would find me even if I couldn’t find him. But like an unobserved quantum object he had completely vanished. I wandered back down Serangoon. What had that been all about? It was certainly not about sex. Was he just setting me up for robbery? If so, he had ample chance in various dark alleys we walked. Among the various groups of men hanging about could have been his henchmen. No-one bothered me. Did he genuinely lose me? I doubt it. He had waited for me at every corner and turn, or when in thick crowds I lagged behind. For most of the time I had the only white skin in sight, so hard to lose. Was he just taking the piss out of the dumb Caucasian? Being a prick teaser in the real sense of those words. Probably. Silly me. I headed back down to Hindoo singing Ah caint get no.

mardhi I don't think wanting more money and not being content to be poor necessarily imply greed. That's a bit harsh. I don't know anyone who wants to be poor, but many who break out of poverty do it with morals intact. There's lots of greed about - agreed (pardon the terrible pun) - but it's mostly among the rich and the aspiring rich. I quite admire good hard working honest folks who lift their lives and families out of poverty. Here in Vietnam amid the vast barren wasteland of lies and deceit there are little oases of goodness and honesty. I'm sure Thailand must be similar. Tomcat, I won't swallow that one about all of us being corrupt or potentially so. That to me smacks of that old Nazi defence, of anyone would have done the same in the circumstances. I don't see evidence for that, and I think it's a weak argument, even if it gets into New Scientist disguised as reputable findings. To all who mentioned it, I agree this blame the foreigner for all the rotten swill in some of these Asian cultures is just a tired kick-the-dog line that I find not only nasty, but so wrong it's not funny. I think Coxy's friend makes some points that are valid. We go on a lot (or some of us do) about how they are always trying to do us down, but it's good to think from their perspective too. I love the bit about the smelly foreigners. I know if I was a LB there's no way I'd want to have close contact with an old smelly fart like me.

What is to be done? Two of the wonderful institutions of Pattaya dying (Sally's, Corner Bar).

mardhi (or anyone else), if you could post some BKK contact for Milk it would be appreciated. Does she speak English much?

Does the scorpion have one last sting in its tail? As a few of you know I am about to leave Vietnam. Bitter & twisted to some extent, but of course mixed feelings too. 7 years is a long time, and leaving brings complicated emotions. Anyhow, enough of the schmalz. Last night I went around the corner, as I do about twice a month, to a shellfish eatery where I am a well known customer. My usual dishes of pippis boiled in lemon grass stock and a plate of scallops grilled with cheese. Cheap cold Heinekens. I have been attending this noshery for about 6 years, and last night guess what? First time they have ever employed a ladyboy on their waitstaff. Nice looking, not magazine cover but OK, boyish face, good body, slim, 45kg, brown skin. Says she's 19, but looks about 25 or 26. A little chat and I get her phone number. So, we'll see what happens. Will she be nice, or will the VNese scorpion sting one last time?

Thanks Bb. I went to PS Buakhao about 3 times last December, never saw her. Just my luck. Perhaps the melee of crowded bar, pole dancing, or maybe she was off with customers.

Brilliant Bb. I'm watching your rule of thirds technique, trying to learn, off to the side, long legs stretching across the frame, wonderful. So, if she's from Jomtien, where does she work? Sally's? That other Legs bar you discovered? (I forget name)

Thanks Lefty, much appreciated. Like I said in my post I have to find a new country. I'm simply trying Thailand first because I know it a teensy bit. Never been to PI. I figure a couple or few months in various places should give me a good clue to where I'm feeling best about ending up. I speak a goodly conversational Vietnamese, but no other Asian languages. So other countries are a tad daunting. The English factor you mention for PI is a big attractor. I live on about 800 USD a month here, so could probably manage in various places. I also very like your point about good cities with few tourists. That appeals to me hugely.

Ken enters a vagabond phase of life. Reluctantly. Next week the removalists come in to move my stuff into storage. Then I hit the road. Now, in my opinion, wandering homeless is for the young and the adventurous. I am neither. So this is quite likely going to be shit. As you may gather I am far from happy about moving. But my time has come to say bye bye Vietnam. I have never clicked with Thailand, in four very short visits. I am going to give it a bigger chunk of time now and see if I can find some way for the shaven head singlet wearers to disappear into a blurred background where tranquility may reside. Find my peace and quiet. I am chuffed by Lefty's comments. I have been told PI is good. But then, as he says, I have also read it is a hellhole of ripoff merchants and slags. (Ah, did someone mention Vietnam?) But Lefty paints the picture I'd like to think might prevail, even though I'm not American. I may have to try other places too of course. Way back when I liked Jogjakarta (Java), but now, who nose? I might just see. Then there's Kolkata, Chennai (no ladyboys, but hijras and good looking femboys). I love Singapore, but it's too expensive for an old man of humble means to live there. We'll see. What will turn up for the vagabond before he has a new address he can invite LBs home to?

Why should it get you in hot water? Just because you like a & b, and don't yet like c & d. So what? You're entitled to grow along the road you choose, as we all are. I call it Broad Spectrum Sexuality (BSS). It simply means up for whatever turns you on at the time. (The only thing I haven't tried is a kangaroo, but give me time. I'm sure to find an attractive one eventually.) Too many guys still feel the need to pigeon hole themselves, and feel guilt or inadequacy if they don't fit some stereotype image of peer group imaginations or their own hangups from conformist pasts. Let it go. Just do what you want. Don't be bullied by singlet wearing beer bar demanders. Be confused. Many are. Let confusion lead you. Don't try to think it. Don't try to justify it. Don't try to rationalise it. This is one excellent forum for tolerance (as opposed to another I could name but won't). You will not get any hot water here. Only encouragement and good wishes.

The Mill quote is brilliant Lefty. I hadn't heard that one before.

Maybe their brain only runs to : Duh, if Ronnie Biggs could do it, so can I.

She is that. And in answer to PD, I have not seen her tool, but she can shoot nipple milk the length of a cricket pitch.

Shame, but I understand. There's always the F word: future. We can catch up again.

Yes, one would never say our Som was the quiet retiring type. A wonderful fun girl nevertheless. In fact Bb, that's the loveliest I've ever seen her look in image, you really captured it.

And Hound, how long you there for this time? Will you be around over xmas new year on to GOTC?

Thanks randiuno.

Thanks beijo.

Could say much the same for you my Hound. Good to hear from ya!

Yes, you guys, shit we're only fellow bumblers, we don't bite heads. (We suck um!) I see the forum's membership has gone past 700. There must be 500 of you geysers out there who have never said boo in print here. Speak up. It's all in a good cause.

O Bb you always get it, while many others don't. (Including me of course.) Soi 6/1 has so much to offer as so many BMs say repeatedly here and elsewhere. Sandy (San you call her) is one who works out of there, for that hole-in-wall Mandarin Bar is entered there, as opposed to the other soi 6 joints. She has the best cock I have ever seen, sucked, been pissed on by, etc. I haven't got her to fuck me yet, but hey, it's only a few weeks, eh? I have raved about her at length in 2 TRs, one on LBP, before I got kicked off, and the second here on this site. She is a lovely girl, but has serious self-esteem problems (as many do), and deep justified worries about ageing and what will become of her. Hence sometimes sessions with her are hard work, not on the sexual side, where she is willing & fun, but with the personal interaction aspects of it. Never mind, I'm hoping to meet up with her again in a few weeks, so glad to hear, Bb, that she's still there. With your camera thread read thoroughly, hoping, fingers crossed, for a few competent pix as well. With the cheap machine I am about to buy and demonstrate my incompetence with. Ha!. PS: sorry to hear you're off to Cambodia for a longer haul. Looks like we'll miss each other. O well, there's always the F word: future.