“I never even knew any of this was here”, said the newbie.
“What did you think Bangkok was about?”, I asked.
“You know. Temples, markets and stuff”.
“Welcome to Bangkok”.
We drank from our cold bottles of Heineken, admiring the near-perfect curves of one of Baccara’s finest.
“I still can’t get my head around it”, he whimpered - gawping alternately at the topless girls bouncing on the glass ceiling, then at the busty beauty sat on my lap.
“Just forget your hangups”, I said. “Forget that you’re English. Sidestep the stigma. We’ve been paying for sex all of our lives, from a certain point of view. The only difference between England and Bangkok is that over here it’s cheaper, more fun, and the girls are slimmer, younger and more attractive”.
“What do you mean?”
“You take a girl out for dinner back home. Drinks. Flowers. Taxi fares. Jewellery. Holidays. Edible underwear. None of that’s free, is it?”
“Well…”
“And then there’s the question of how highly you value your time. I value my time extremely highly - it’s limited. We’re all born with a coundown timer ticking towards our inevitable death. Who really wants to spend their Saturday afternoons shuffling around IKEA with some chubby girl in the meantime, investigating shelving options?”
“That’s…”
“Buy her a drink to start with”. I gestured towards the stunner with the curves. “The barfine’s six hundred baht. The cutest girls will ask for two thousand short-time, but she should settle for one and a half - you’re not a bad-looking bloke, you’re polite and clean, and you’ve got youth on your side. Total cost, including three hundred for a room down the street, just over two thousand five hundred. That’s less than forty quid, and it’s the most you’ll ever pay - you can get it for a thousand elsewhere, maybe for free if you stick around long enough. This one’s worth it though”.
“Wow. Where is the nearest IKEA, incidentally?”
“Sweden, I think”.
“Cool”.
At last! An Ikea thread on a Bangkok blog! You know what pisses me off? The way you’re shepherded through the ENTIRE STORE when all you want is a hessian tooth-mug rack. You have to walk through the home office section, marveling at the simple uncluttered lines of the stainless steel in-trays, and then the children’s bedroom section - such FUN! - and the fucking housewares section with baffling stuff that folds flat for no perceptible reason, and the restaurant with fucking meatballs rolling over the floor, thrown by intolerable lower middle-class children, and then - whaddya mean, I’m off-topic?!
View all comments by Pants Elk
Who but a leather-faced, zipper-mouth geek gets the online to obey rules and orders, expressed ? One follows the thread, if (sorry about this ) a non-linear synaptic event gets triggered by what he’s read in the blog and he feels compelled to verbalize this event using the medium at hand, big fucking deal.
The tech-specific, economic, financial, cuisine, one-hander blogs and Rush, might feel compelled to kick him off.
So they kick him off.
The hipper than thou crowd on a blog like this (not that there may be any, I simply cite BBB’s blog as an example) or MS or whatever, might feel compelled to censure him with exclusionary ritual.
Idiots just might not be able to make the jump.
Others might not care to.
Others, accessing a site like this or TK’s might be disappointed since they’d accessed in expectation of some exotic crotch rumble or other with a Bkk theme. They occasionally whine.
Each expresses his dismay in a different way.
The biggest bores of all for me, (surely the web is the well spring of relativism if nothing else) are the finger waving motherfuckers who get on to remind a perfectly brilliant poster like Dicer or Camus (on a good day) that his post was off topic.
So , as Pants does and others do occasionally, why doesn’t the “offended” poster just get the thread back on topic by asking for a response to his post? Or (perish the f*cking thought) GET it back on topic by pulling it there with a fascinatingly cogent addition to the original thread?
Why spend a whole ten minutes saying what everyone already nows?
With that in mind I approach the assembled Bkk livers and lovers here on BBB and ask: “What does one do with a perfectly sane (in all other ways) medical professional, lawyer, back-packer, Kery Packer, millionaire, retiree, or rich man’s son etc who announces, after 30 days at the base of chrome poles or here at the f*ckin’ keyboard or at the end of a pool cue in Gullible’s, announces with a straight face that he’s met the girl he’s gonna marry.
(last time you saw her she was wiping the splooge off her face but now she’s scheduling her wedding reception at the f*cking Conroy)
Whaddya do?
This is a STRAIGHT question posed in all honesty. What’s the etiquette ritual pertaining to the poor bastard who’s just four seconds away from putting his dick in a Foley Food Mill ?? Or some other EQUALLY dangerous concept. Any suggestions??
View all comments by Prufrock
Haven’t you been there, almost done that, yourself, Prufers? That first visit to BKK can release all kinds of emotions in a man of a certain age. Total re-evaluation of What Your Life Is About, for one. Ikea as a religion is a fact of life. The weekly observance. the taking of meatball communion. The Ikeaite suddenly transplanted from his flat-pack universe to that strangely multi-dimensional, timeless proton nerve soup of Bangkok can find himself grasping onto the nearest thing (generally a bargirl) as a drowning man a publishing contract. And the sagely advice of the Seasoned Regular - lose your mind, your money, but don’t lose your heart - is often meaningless.
Me, I got out of *that* one by the skin of my teeth (ever seen flayed teeth?), and my guard has been up ever since. So my advice to those who want to give advice to friends about to throw everything they have and are into the woodchipper of a bargirl’s heart is - let the poor slob do what he wants to do. Either that or slug him and stuff him on a plane - something he won’t thank you for, and a temporary measure at best.
View all comments by Pants Elk
I’d just like to point out that the nearest IKEA is actually in Singapore.
I should also like to admit that I just installed an unbelievably economical IKEA kitchen that looks EXACTLY like a 2.5 million THB Siematic kitchen. (By the way, Siematic has a shop as close as the Emporium as I recall.)
Those Scandi people are amazing. Don’t know how they do it. (Also love my ‘98 Saab. And chicks from Iceland.)
I admit walking through IKEA with a chubby girl isn’t any fun. But it ain’t too bad with a stunner.
View all comments by Tanai Kwai
But aren’t IKEA evil slave wage paying fuckpigs?
View all comments by Combover
“I’d just like to point out that the nearest IKEA is actually in Singapore.”
This was why I came to Bangkok in the first place.
View all comments by Pants Elk
A confession: This whole sex-pat blog exercise was a carefully planned mission to unite whoremongers in a discussion of Scandinavian flat-pack furniture.
My work here is done.
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy
Last time I was at Ikea (on the A1 north out of Paris, you can’t miss it - well, you can, actually, and do, because it’s really tricky to get to - you’d be better off taking the turn-off for CDG, and hooking around back to the right just as you get off the motorway, then working back through the Industrial Zone, past Castorama. Ikea is then on your right, opposite World Of Leather or whatever it’s called) I gave my shoes to a tramp (UK sense, “bum” in the American) who helped me load a mattress in the back of my Kangoo.
I’m on a roll, aren’t I?
View all comments by Pants Elk
Don’t be knocking Ikea then, eh?.
Without the Morikoshi fastener, the L-shaped hexagonal wrench and those f*cking bow-shaped teakwood banana bunch danglers, we’d all still be eating banana loaf off cable spools and sitting on orange crates.
But just look at us now.
Pants, my good fellow. A cask of Ikea Cab Sauv for my agent, then?
View all comments by Prufrock
There’s some kind of game where you try to out-Google Google, isn’t there, by pairing two words that yield zero results? Both Morikoshi Fastener and (did you mean) Horikoshi Fastener achieve this peculiar distinction.
Anyone *else* getting a hard-on from this?
View all comments by Pants Elk
Combover: That all depends on what you mean by “evil slave wage paying fuckpig(s)”
I’ve been called one myself from time to time.
Only hurts for a moment. After a while you wear it proudly.
The NDP (Canadian socialist cabal-near extinction) neighbors would hiss and mewl in envy from behind their cedar hedgerow.
Yes, yes, I never saw their faces but I always knew they were there.
And, what’s more, I always knew what was going on in their heads.
The revenge WAS sweet as I unloaded those eight IDENTICAL flatpacks containing a spanking new entertainment center from the Silverado and stacked them in my workshop. Ready for assembly.
In a matter of hours (3.5) the sleek black “Principe” would emerge only to require partial dis-assembling because there was no fucking way to get it through the back door.
But the neighbors got the message.
“We have an idiot living next to us, Bernadette.
I’ve always known he was a fascist but now I know he’s an idiot.”
View all comments by Prufrock
An old timers tips to newbies——-
If you are coming to bkk to have a great time its great but If you want to marry a thai girl the most likely scenario is that you may end up marrying a hooker due to the very complex commercial sex scene.
Here are some forms of sex workers and their classification depending upon their honesty:
1. Soapies– girls working in bath,massage, shag establishments are the most honest prostitutes as they are open about their work. They have a number and they sit in a bishbowl so that customers can choose them without even talking or bergaining for price. They are the most feminine and not talkative. They have fair skin as most of them come from cooler regions like chiangmai/chiangrai and hill trbal belt. Their motto: work more talk less.The have the cleanest pussy.
2. Gogo bars,bars etc— girls working in this category are the second most honest hookers. Places like nana, patpong, soi cowboy etc are places where these girls can be found. They are also open about their business but the only diffence is that they want to talk or bergain the price before any serious business. They are agile, slim but have a darker skin as they come from hotter issan areas. You can have the wildest sex with them. Their Motto : talk more work less.
3. Girls on the street—-Girls who hawk their ware on the various streets and sois are the third most honest hookers. You can find them at sanam luang who are mostly underage ( 300bt per shot) , around lumpini park ( 500 bt per shot), around and at the back soi of Siam hotel ( 1000 bt per shot), Yawarat area near hual lamphnog train station( 200/ 300 bt per shot) etc. etc.
4. Escorts service girls are the 4th most honest girls as they are also open about their business to a certain degree.
5. But the least honest hookers are the ones pretending to be good girls and chat online on the Marriage ang dating sites. They are the masters of marketing management. They know how to increase the price of a commodity by packaging the goods nicely. A plate of khaophat sales at 200 bt per plate in a high end restaurant which can bought from a street stall at 40 bt which may even taste better. They will spend their time surfing the net looking for headless horny guys. They may have hundreds or thousands of friends( customers) at a time. They will try to meet each and every of these guys and get something from them. And when they meet the guys they will act in such a way that the guy will be like a dog in heat in anticipation and when finally they have sex the guy may not pay for the sex but he may end up buying her more expensive gifts like jewellery. Like this she would try each and every customer and in the end she will choose one with the deepest pocket having the smallest brain or the oldest rich so that they will become another Anna Nicole. Some of them have the most pungent , lousy pussy.
If you stay long enough and lucky enough you may one they meet the silent majority normal thai girls who work in offices, shops etc. who are like any other normal girl in every part of world and whose image is superimposed by the image of a few of their more outgoing sisters.
View all comments by John
Googling is f*cking cheating.
This fastener is the cast aluminum lug that one inserts into the 1cm. bore to be met at right angles by the hex course threaded screw, then, isn’t it!
You hafta know that Ikea executed a fantastic industry coup by purchasing all the patents from Mr. Joshimuru Murikoshi (a metallurgist of some renown at the Matsushita Metal Works and then callously erased Murikoshi-san’s name from his work and replaced it with Bleuornoost or some such thing. (fucked company.com 1998.
I only remember the original pre-patent purchase name switch thingy since I think I never purchased ANY of these things after a certain time which shall remain nameless.
And if I may have they were old stock.
Muri-fucking-koshi.
View all comments by Prufrock
John,
while at IKEA in Singapore I met a Thai girl who said she was working there as a bed-tester. One thing led to another and we ended up having a great time, but it turned out she was a light-skinned hill girl who worked in a soapland before moving on to Nana Plaza via the Sukhumwit street scene before doing a stint as an escort. She moved to Singapore to marry someone she met online.
My dilemma is: should I trust her to put the “Billy” shelving together on her own, or should I play it safe and do it myself?
View all comments by NotAnyBangkokRelatedWebsite.com
Here’s some Ikea product lines that never got past the development stage:
SMEGMA - Flatpack flatpack
LADIBOI - Inflatable kniferack
SKROTUM - Gel-filled futon
WANKA - Futon-filled gel
HARDON - Meatball display system
RIMJOB - Hessian shower curtain
(John, the whole idea of DIY furniture, unless I’m much mistaken, is to get someone else to build it for you. Get your Thai assistant a fetching latex outfit to wear while bending about her task.)
View all comments by Pants Elk
Pants: Reminds me of a Thai girl I met recently.
nb. Thai females will end their sentences with “ka”, if they’re being polite.
Me: “What’s your name?”
Her: “Wan, ka”.
Still don’t know how I managed to keep a straight face.
Incidentally, “Wan” means “sweet” (if I got the tone right).
“Preaow” means “sour”.
If anyone knows where I can find a bargirl called Preaow, I’m going to have quite a feast…
View all comments by Bangkok Bad Boy