For my final full-length post on this website, I’d like to take you back a few weeks - to the day I made my first post.
It had been a slightly odd weekend. Bangkok was experiencing the beginnings of a full-scale political crisis. Not that I noticed.
Friday had been Werewolf’s farewell night out at Mojo’s, already covered here by the man himself. Saturday consisted of a rare mid-afternoon jaunt to Soi Cowboy to meet up with a pal and watch the street slowly come to life over the rim of a bottle of Beer Lao. Or several, in fact. Then onto Nana Plaza, and oblivion.
Sunday though… Sunday was different.
Beginnings
It began at Gullivers, on Sukhumvit Soi 5.
We drank beer. We ate sandwiches. Eventually. We put the world to rights. “We” were myself and a couple of English pals. Life was good. The elder statesman of our group declared that it was time for his late-afternoon nap, and three became two.
And with the daylight fading as inexorably as a Rainbow 4 superstar’s enthusiasm for a punter who turns out to have forgotten his wallet, we made the short journey to Soi 4 to take a peek at the as-yet unopened new Big Mango bar, before settling in for beers on the rail at Big Dogs. Back at Nana Plaza again. Who’d have thought it?
We spotted a scary-looking bargirl entering the Plaza, who we’d seen the night before. She had been working at one of the ground-floor beer bars, and my friend and I had agreed that a sexual adventure with this woman would be an interesting experience. Not least because she appeared to be completely insane.
She was an older woman - I’d guess mid-late 30s, maybe even 40 - not ugly by any stretch, but her attractiveness was of the unconventional variety. Whatever it was, she had a certain je ne sais quoi. Older, certainly past her prime, and a bit scary - but yet you still would, because you know it would be memorable. And so I shall call her Margaret Thatcher.
We supped our beers and made our way over to her bar. She was in conversation with an older gent as we arrived, and I thought he might leave with her before I got the chance to charm her. Insomuch as an ageing bargirl needs to be charmed. Which isn’t much at all.
Curiosity Killed the Cat
I think it was perhaps the difference. The difference between the nubile young lovelies who make up my usual bed rota, and this older, more experienced, and clearly completely loopy lady. I don’t know whether she was drunk, high, or whether this was merely her natural demeanour, but Margaret was a couple of cards short of a full deck.
The customer she’d been chatting with soon disappeared, and I beckoned her over to our table. She had a fidgetting, twittering presence. Sometimes wandering off across the bar mid-sentence. Sometimes gazing into the distance, her attention completely focussed on apparently nothing at all. She completely refused to tell me her name. So Margaret it is.
What had begun as an inquisitive wondering of “what if?” was slowly becoming - not quite an obsession, but a powerful yearning to discover just how many tricks this woman might have picked up during her years of whoring. Plus I reckoned she’d probably take it up the pooper.
Either way, my curiousity was getting too much for me. Over a few beers, egged on by my pal, I decided that it had to be done. A couple of gins for the Margaret, and the discussion turned to business.
Short time. Two thousand baht. Those were her terms. Not so much steep as practically vertical. Clearly, it was time to unleash the BBB charm. I did so, but to little avail.
She told me she didn’t need the money. She had a nice house, and a nice car. She was only going with me because she liked me. But she didn’t drop her price for anyone.
We were at an impasse. She wasn’t budging, but I wasn’t keen on paying more for this woman than I would for a twenty year-old pert, pouting lovely. Eventually, my pal leaned in. “Look, I’m dying to hear what she’s like in bed. Give her two thousand, and I’ll give you five hundred back after you tell me all about it.”
Deal.
The Dirty Deed of Darkness
And so the barfine was paid. Drinks were finished. Egged on by my pal, I took Margaret’s hand, and led her to the elevator behind the staircase on the ground floor, just in behind Lollipop bar. There was no way I wanted to be spotted climbing the stairs with this one.
Up to the short-time hotel, and there was - mercifully - a room available. No sitting around in reception being stared at by swarthy Germans with their ladyboy companions. Straight into the room, and straight to business.
I’ve often said that one of the more immediately noticeable differences between Thai girls and their western sisters is their impeccable attention to cleanliness. They shower before they do anything, especially sex. And so as Margaret entered the deluxe en-suite bathroom, I was fully expecting to hear the shower start.
It didn’t.
“The bathroom’s fucking dirty”, she said, as she returned to the bedroom, lifting one leg to kick off her knickers into the corner.
“You’re not going to take a shower?” I asked, incredulously.
“No. Fucking dirty”.
I was taken aback, but figured it might make for an interesting article. How little I knew.
I showered, and the bathroom looked fine to me. Back to the bedroom, and to business.
I think she started on top. I’m not sure, to be honest. My mind has blocked a lot of it out.
Either way, she was keen and enthusiastic, and extremely competent. Not to mention utterly filthy.
She accomodated The Staff Of Justice with what can only be described as wanton abandon. Up the right ‘un, up the wrong ‘un, down the throat, it was no-holes barred action, and I was having a splendid time. So, it seemed, was she.
Eventually, that familiar stirring made itself known, and with a hearty “Geronimo” I set loose the swimmers within her snug and accomodating bumhole. Which was nice.
Twist In The Tail
Lying in the aftermath of a rampant session, dripping with sweat and fanny batter, I was ready for another shower. I was by now only half surprised when the filthy minx declined once again to take one herself.
And as the water washed away the juices of my sins, and I scrubbed the minge muck out of my pubic hair, making a mental note to cut my fingernails when I got home, I was hardly surprised at all when I heard Margaret let loose a rasping fart in the bedroom. Refined, she was not.
I finished off the clean-up, towelled myself off, and returned to the bedroom. Sat on the end of the bed, I started to dress, as Margaret arranged her generous bosom, and pulled her knickers up.
“Two thousand”, I said, as I handed over the cash.
“Thank you. You pay tip for cleaner”, she replied, subtly arching her neck and nodding in the direction of the bed behind me.
Time seemed to stand still. Slowly, and with no small sense of dread, I turned around.
There was shit everywhere.
Great long dribbly streaks of poo, with the consistency and appearance of Nutella - but not, I would imagine, the deliciously morish taste - lay proudly upon the bedsheets.
It seemed that my enthusiastic probing had loosened things up somewhat in Margaret’s back passage. And the rasping fart I’d overheard when I was taking a shower had, evidently, included more than a little follow-through. Which she’d then apparently wiped up with the bedsheets.
A Question of Etiquette
Margaret was disarmingly matter-of-fact about it. I was mortified. I briefly considered burning the sheets, as surely the consequences couldn’t be as embarrassing as leaving them in this state, but I didn’t fancy being responsible for burning Nana Plaza to the ground. Now that would have made for a really embarrassing article.
But I couldn’t think what else to do. I searched my soul, and realised that there was nothing in my upbringing, experience or instincts that came anywhere remotely close to any kind of guide as to how one should behave in this situation.
I figured that Margaret’s suggestion of a tip for the maid would have to do. The only question was how much.
“Forty baht”, said Margaret, emphatically and without hesitation.
This threw me completely. Not so much the amount, as her confidence that this was precisely the correct figure to appease someone who would shortly be dealing directly with her excrement.
Did this sort of thing happen to her often? I found myself wondering this, almost out loud. But then realised that there are some questions to which we are not supposed to know the answers.
I checked my pocket, and found no twenty-baht notes, but a single fifty. That would do.
The only question left was a matter of diplomacy, not to mention respect.
I would have to leave the tip on the bed, rather than on the floor. I wanted the maid to know that I had deliberately decided to leave a gratuity by way of an apology for the mess. If I left the cash on the floor, she might assume that I’d simply dropped it by accident.
And so I tried to figure out where the cleanest part of the bed was, where the money would be reachable without having to lean in too far. I settled for a relatively clean point in the middle of the bed, approximately equidistant from the larger trails of poo. An effluence enclave, if you will.
And so I delicately set the money down, left the room, and strode briskly down the stairs, straight through reception, out of the hotel, down the elevator, and straight out of Nana Plaza.
My pal eventually found me sat at the Golden bar with a Beer Lao, shaking. I haven’t been back to that bar, and it’ll be a long time before I return to that short-time hotel…
bravo! . if i ever have the honor, your next margarita is on me!
View all comments by go go groupie
Oh my GOD!
View all comments by pattayaghost
I’m going to go take a shower, and am making a mental note to never ask BBB to house-sit for me.
BTW, I think your pal should kick in an extra 25bt.
View all comments by fender
Absolutely superb!! Almost did a Margaret myself on reading this piece. BBB, you will most assuredly be missed.
View all comments by Fanta
Someone should make videos of people reading this entry and put them on youtube ala 2g1c.
View all comments by fender
This entry gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “skid marks”!
Kind of reminds me of a friend’s dog who leaves chunky trails across his living room carpet when the pooch decides he wants to scratch his backside itch!
You should have burned the sheets; along with the plaza! No great loss of either.
View all comments by Moonman
still doesn’t shed much light on why she wouldn’t shower. Or does it? Psychologists will tell you that loonies are marked by two obvious traits 1) they talk to themselves, and 2) their deteriorating attention to personal hygiene. She talk much?
View all comments by swampthing
I bow in respect!
Poo galore and Beerlao, what an evening
View all comments by Pibar
I shall admit that I was the ‘pal’ in this article.
After i met BBB at Golden Bar he was seriously almost crying into his beer like someone had shot his pet dog in the face. His face was contorted and bemused like he was trying to divide 4576842364 by 93425.
The funniest thing about this whole article which he actually left out i believe, was we wento this bar the night before, and noticed this buxom, slack bowelled, idunnowhatthefuckyoudcallher, and both agreed she’d be a monster in the sack. Next thing we know, shes toddling off into the sunset with grandpa joe in all his arthritic glory, who was 70 if he was a day (fuck me this guy was more then a day)
To this day I wonder what happened to that poor old bastard. He dead? In a straight jacket somewhere? Chilling in his rocking chair back in Munich getting off on the scat-frenzy? Or down in Pattaya crawling beach road for a 500baht scat-lover?
Fucking pricless writing
View all comments by Young Penfold
@ggg: Margaritas are lady-drinks. I drink beer. Looking forward to it.
@swampthing: Frequent gibbering, yes. The fact that she didn’t even shower after essentially cacking herself frankly scares me. Wonder who her next customer was.
@YP: 48989.482087235751.
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
and thanks for stopping by, BBB. Did you enjoy yourself as much as we enjoyed having you around these past weeks?
View all comments by swampthing
BBB, you nearly cost me 50 baht for the maid to clean my sheets. I have never laughed so hard while reading (or attempting to read thru tear filled eyes) a blog entry in all my days. That truly was some wild shit!! I’m really hoping you were the first customer of the day… yuk!! For surviving a near death experience like that… You are THE MAN!!
View all comments by ShufflynBy
Oh, come on! There wasn’t that much poo. You should see MY bedroom!
View all comments by Young Penfold's Mum
BBB - Great post - though I felt like I just watched 2 girls and 1 cup.
Where do I sign the petition to bring back your website?
View all comments by JustinCider
BBB,
That was as funny, if not more, than your “bitches with stitches” article on your old site !! Absolute fucking comedy and extremely well written to boot.
As repeated from above, you and WW have very differing writing styles that really compliment each other (filth and fact one could say !!) Why not submit the odd BLOG to WW to keep us all smiling ??
Again, great stuff !!
View all comments by Mobster
Penfold my tirak
did you also chuck 1 up this trolls pooper? Was it the night you went to watch the ‘football’? i have had it with your lies
I have warned you about the dangers of anal play and you still partake?
IT’S OVER BETWEEN US
View all comments by Young Penfold's girlfriend
Apparently she was “Gagging For It”. Wouldn’t u agree, Michael?
View all comments by Gagging For It
It was such a good read I can’t think of anything sarcastic or cutting to say - an uncomfortable state for an englishman
View all comments by doctorbond
Just managed to get off the floor after rolling with hysterical laugh..
I’ve seen porno movies where people eat the stuff (and seem to enjoy it !).
Perhaps this was the idea ?
IMHO 40 Baht tip for the cleaner was an insult. Should have been at least 1k.
YP: Though we never met I can identify you with 100 percent certainty in the pictures from the opening of the Big Mango.
View all comments by Manny
Drowning in your love here folks, thanks for all the comments.
I’ll be addressing the future in a little goodbye piece (nothing like this, don’t worry) on Friday lunchtime, keep ‘em peeled.
@Gagging: Eh? Who’s Michael? You on the right page?
@Manny: Yeah, I wouldn’t have even gone in the room after that for 40 baht. Kills me.
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
Tragic story… brilliant writing.
I gagged, I laughed, then I gagged some more.
And then laughed again.
Fantastic!
View all comments by Werewolf
fucking great story. I have neve been one to add to much praise to blogs but i bow down in admiration on this one….
View all comments by MSB
Agreed. Everyone can stop blogging now. BBB wins.
View all comments by fender
BTW, what’s the picture from? Looks damn familiar but can’t place it. It fits the post perfectly, though.
I agree with Manny. You should have given the 1500 to the maid and the 50 to the BF.
View all comments by fender
@fender: It’s Spud from Trainspotting, in the scene where he’s trying to sneak the shit-soiled bedsheets into his girlfriend’s washing machine. Relevant, yet subtle, I thought.
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
my flabby abdominals ache with the extreme amount of laughing I have done. But seriously, when fender suggested you get 25b from Young Penfold as though *THAT* would make everything right in the world, I started crying into my keyboard.
Please tell us you are not quitting blogging because of your enui with the world - please let it be a book of essays or something like that?
And a suggestion for Smitty, etc, @ the Big Mango. Sure, beautiful FC’s on Aug 1 is grand but if you have a dramtic reading of this blog, I AM SO THERE on the airplane!
View all comments by fugu
Well done! Friggin’ grossed me out, but still, well done.
View all comments by The Heckler
I no longer have to wonder who shags those crazy over-hill bitches, and what happens when they do. I also love the fact you paid over the odds for the experience, cos it would just have to turn out like that. I forgive you for putting me off my pasties (Greggs).
View all comments by milo
“It began at Gulliver’s.. We drank beer. We ate sandwiches.”
How long it took them to make the frigging thing on this occasion ?
Just did a quick search on file sharing for scat.
547 files on LimeWire, 684 on ARES and 324 on btjunkie. Bon appetite !!
View all comments by Manny
I have an image in my mind of a young high school student in England writing an essay for history class. She Googles the name ‘Margaret Thatcher’ and… well, I’ll leave it up to your imagination.
View all comments by Werewolf
Just brilliant writing BBB. Laughing and gagging all of the way through the piece and the comments as well.
And that will be the last pudding cup I eat while reading your post, definitely.
View all comments by Professor
fantastic
View all comments by jerb
Thanks BBB.Funniest thing i’ve read for ages.
View all comments by Richard R
what a funny post
View all comments by toddmorocco
http://www.flickr.com/photos/53952148@N00/2649832588/sizes/m/
Where the evening started & the place for a quick sandwich..
View all comments by Manny
And another one.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/53952148@N00/2649825444/sizes/l/
View all comments by Manny
Bravo, bravo.
View all comments by tosh
Please do not go, your words of wit and wisdom will be greatly missed.
View all comments by Bud
at least she timed it well
View all comments by swampthing
WW, I’m not sure about high school history essays, but this blog entry already comes up #1 if someone googles: Margaret Thatcher Nana Plaza.
I’m not sure why anyone would ever google that, but if they do, they will find an entertaining read.
View all comments by gavinmac
I am quite certain that by the end of the week Margaret Thatcher will have heard of — if not actually read — this post.
View all comments by swampthing
I think my favourite thing about this page, aside from the very flattering stream of comments of course, is the fact that NOBODY has questioned the reasoning behind my choice of alias for the devil poo woman.
I guess it must have been a good story if I can casually mention that I would totally do Mrs Thatcher (the real one), and nobody mentions it…
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
i would have thought that mentioning margaret thatcher in the same breath as a pooh was self evident?
View all comments by swampthing
I thought you gave a perfectly cogent explanation in the blog:
“…her attractiveness was of the unconventional variety. Whatever it was, she had a certain je ne sais quoi. Older, certainly past her prime, and a bit scary - but yet you still would, because you know it would be memorable. And so I shall call her Margaret Thatcher.”
View all comments by Werewolf
I did. It’s the fact that nobody has questioned it that worries me.
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
Lucky ou went to shower when you did or you would have had to pay the cleaner another 50 Baht to wash you down as well
View all comments by DOCSMITH
Holey Crap! You literally fucked the shit out of her! Well done BBB!
View all comments by Captain Obvious
Despite the arse-lickin comments, this is hardly one to tell the grandkids about. Let’s suppose for a moment that you did. Would your offspring think:
a) Wow! grandad was so cool when he was younger. What a legend.
b) Oh my god. grandad is a cringeworthy pervert who pays money to have sex with dirty skanks.
c) Who is our grandad? Granny can’t remember and mummy says we should stop thinking about it and get back to sucking old mens’ cocks before mamasan fires us.
View all comments by hugh heffer
@ HH - shucks hugh you have the power to suck joy out of a room. You manage to make the tawdry seem so, well, tawdry
View all comments by doctorbond
@HH: The comments are a reflection on BBB’s storytelling, not the facts of the tale. To wit: “I barfined this old skank who let me fuck her up the ass then shit the bed” might not have led to the same level of praise.
Beyond that, with which anecdotes WOULD you regale your children and grandchildren? Save the BKK p4p stories for when the kiddies are older and get them a Doraemon DVD.
View all comments by fender
@ BBB - I’ve read numerous times, from various sources, that in person Margaret Thatcher had a very bizarre but undeniable sexual magnetism. Doesn’t make any sense to me either, but there you go.
View all comments by tosh
Way to end the guest hosting on a high point, BBB. I laughed, I cried, I had another beer.
Cheers!
View all comments by The Asian Badger
Why shouldn’t someone google Margaret Thatcher Nana Plaza? Apparently her daughter Carol enjoyed a visit to Kings Castle in 1984.
BBB it’s suprising that you are suprised that no one is suprised that you have a thing for Maggie.
View all comments by Wombat
very very funny my wife asked why was laughing and i said DO NOT GO IN THEIR boys humor
View all comments by spud
Awesome story. Same thing happened to me at the Dream Hotel Bangkok. Only it was my fault….
Dont go to the expensive Italian place around the corner from The Dream. Or it could happen to you.
I had no idea of what to do with the sheets, so I put them in the hall of the floor above my room. In my brown haze, I didnt think they would put 2 and 2 together.
Needless to say I checked out the next day, sure that all of the cute TG behing reception were giggling!
View all comments by PlushLife
You are likely one of a few select people that can say, “Yeah, I fucked the shit out of her” and it be literally true.
View all comments by Indu WangZi