The FARANG Speaks 2 Much

On 31 August 1997, Princess Diana met with her untimely doom in a Parisian underpass. London ground to a halt, as the entire population saw fit to drown the entrance to Buckingham Palace in a sea of floral tributes. A nation wept, bereft of one of its most-loved characters.

It’s only natural that my own departure from the ‘Kokosphere has raised as much gloom and despondency, if not more. I am not saying that I will be more keenly-missed than Princess Diana. That is for other people to say.

But your moving tributes, eulogies and petty sarcasm were appreciated, and so in a final gesture of mutual man-love and respect, I’m making this absolutely-final post in order to close this website more properly. A last hurrah, if you will.

A Quiet Day At Home

I’d intended to write this yesterday. I rose around noon, having gotten myself well and truly inebriated on Friday night in Patpong. Alcohol ban? Bollocks, I say. If you want a drink in Bangkok, you’ll find one.

Anyway, I’d planned a quiet Saturday afternoon bravely battling my hangover, whilst pruning and completing this site. To ensure that I wouldn’t succumb to temptation, I started the day off with a cracking wank. Cash in the bank, as they say. That should stop me from indulging for at least a few hours, I thought.

But as I sat down at the computer, after wiping myself down, I got a call from a friend who was just down the road, at the entrance to one of the Soapie establishments whose proximity to Bad Boy Towers make this one of the most des res areas of Bangkok.

Did I want to join him? Oh, go on then.

One careful selection from the fishbowl later, and just ฿1,800 lighter, I was in the elevator with a curvaceous cock-candy from Chaiya Phum.

And for the first time ever in a soapie, I didn’t even make it to the bed. We shagged in the bath, which is trickier than it sounds, then up against the tiles, and eventually made it as far as the couch. Top marks.

Just as I was considering making my way home, it emerged that a recently-absent ex-squeeze was back in Bangers from a sabattical in rural Issan. Did I want to come over? Does the Pope shit in the woods? Yes!

Onto the skytrain then, to deepest darkest On Nut: the bargirl motherlode. As in many bargirls’ rooms, there are no chairs in this apartment - only the bed. How terribly inconvenient.

We finished up at around 2am, when she dressed and prepared to start her day with a trip to Spicy, the after-hours club that I’ve still never been both capable and partnerless at such a late hour to consider visiting. Oh, how the other half lives…

And that, dear readers, is yet another one of the myriad reasons that I’ve decided to curtail my blogging career. If I’d been sufficiently conscientious to stay home and update the site, I’d have missed out on not one, but two thrilling sexual encounters.

Much as I’ve enjoyed regaling you with tales of my adventures in Thai women, I’d rather be doing it than writing about it.

Fuck Off

This really is the last post. Comments are now closed. The site will remain present for an undetermined period of time, as a cyber-monument to my masculinity, but there will be no further discussion. And so, in a final act of altruism, I’ll point you in the right direction elsewhere in the ‘Kokosphere, depending on why you read this site in the first place.

1. Bangkok bloggery. There is no finer source than the website maintained by the Super Mario Mango Brothers, over at The Farang Speaks Too Much. Whilst I wish the boys themselves would share a little more of their own extraordinarily romp-filled lives here, there’s still more information and entertainment than you can shake a big knobbly stick at. If I ever feel the need to write further articles of this nature (I don’t intend to), it will probably be on their site.
2. Bar guide. The SMB strike again. Their recently-launched Guide 2 The Big Mango is ten times more glorious than the bar-review update I’d planned for this site. Check it out.
3. Male Supremacy. Seriously. Not Bangkok-related, but check out what Dick Masterson has to say, over at the superb Men Are Better Than Women.

Thank you all. And honestly, for absolutely the last time ever*, goodbye.

*may not be true, retrospectively speaking

Well, it’s official. The local FamilyMart has a big sign on the counter confirming that no alcohol will be sold from 6pm Friday 14th to midnight on Sunday 16th.

The following weekend (21-23), expect the same restrictions to be in place for the election.

Bars aren’t being asked to close, but if they can’t sell beer, don’t expect them all to stay open. Better start stocking up…

Another Nail In The Coffin

Nana Plaza’s Angelwitch has claimed the dubious crown of being the first of the Nana bars to increase their prices as we enter the high season. You’ll now be expected to pay ฿140 or ฿145 for a beer, depending on your preferred brand. No doubt others will follow suit.

With the Nana branch of Subway apparently on its way out, and the Soi 23 branch going 24-hours, it’s pretty obvious where the action is these days. For the hard of thinking, I mean Soi Cowboy.

The End

Which brings me to the point. After just over a year and a half of sharing my Bangkok adventure with friends and strangers alike, it’s time to move on.

As promised, I’ll be in Baccara on Christmas Day, celebrating in time-honoured fashion. If you’d like to join the fun, there are a few rules to observe, courtesy of Maddox:

1. Do not make direct eye contact with me.
2. You must adhere to the following procedure when shaking my hand:
   • Stand directly in front of me with both feet together.
   • Extend your arm in front of you and wait for me to engage if I choose to do so.
   • If I grant you a hand shake, you may hold my hand, pump once or twice, and then promptly let go. I will then wipe my hand with a moist towelette, and you will bow, step aside and quickly walk away.
3. You must stand at least 3 feet (1 m) apart from me at all times.
4. Do not talk directly to me. If you want to tell me something, write it down and hand it to an assistant.
5. Formal attire is encouraged (suit + tie if possible).

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to write.