Happy New Year!

31 Saturday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Bangkok, Travel Photography

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Almost. But then New Year celebrations are really more about the eve and not the day. This is the first time in 7 years I’m not celebrating in Bangkok. My damn niece went and decide to finally get married, which would be cool except she decided to do it in early January when I’m usually in SE Asia. Bitch. But I thought I’d share a photo from a New Year’s Eve from a few years ago when I hauled my dyke friends along for the trip.

I love this shot for several reasons. It make my friend Helena look massive (so she hates it). And it was taken by my friend Noom – it’s a blurry shot and he loves trying to delete any of my shots that are blurry, so it was a great chance for me to get a bit of payback.

I spent one New Year’s Eve on Soi 4, which was a bit boring. And one in a gogo bar, which wasn’t much better . . . most of the hot guys all have offs so the entertainment is all the B roster. Most years I head over to Central World for the big countdown. The first time we made the mistake of joining the crowd in the street. Yikes! Since then we’ve always paid for a table at one of the beer gardens set up in front of the shopping mall. Cool fireworks, lots of beer, and you get to laugh at the hordes crammed into the street below. At least until you get to join them when the party is over.

Fortunately I have only one niece, so next year it’s back to Bangkok as usual. To those of you who made it to the Kingdom for the holidays: I hate you.

But have a great New Year’s anyway!

End Of The Week #20

31 Saturday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in End of the Week, It's A Gay World

≈ 4 Comments

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Nude Dudes

The perfect end to a night, the week, and the year.

Since it’s not just an End of the Week shot, but an End of the Year photo to boot, I took a bit of extra time to pick out an exceptionally luscious butt for this week’s post. It’s not just a great little butt shot, but a promise of good things to come, which seemed perfectly apt while we head into a brand new year. I hope 2012 is a great year for all of you. But that’s still a day away; it’s still New Year’s Eve, so get out there and party your asses off!

Bangkok Gay Gogo Bar First Timers’ Guide Part V

30 Friday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Gay Gogo Bar First Timers Guide

≈ 41 Comments

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Gay Bangkok, Gay GoGo Bars, Money Matters, Offs

Gratuitous Gratuities In Gogo Bars

Tipping is not customary in Thailand. All the guidebooks, both online and in print, will tell you that this western custom is not the norm in the Kingdom. And, in Thailand, prostitution is illegal too. So of course you’ll never run across prostitutes on your visit. Nor will any Thai ask, or expect, a tip from you. But Thailand’s gay gogo bars are a world of their own. In Bangkok, that world is centered on Soi Twilight. Where you’ll find establishments full of prostitutes. And everyone involved in the business not only expects to be tipped, but will demand a gratuity from you. Hopefully, you’ll at least get an orgasm out of it.

Undoubtedly the most often asked question about tipping and gay gogo bars in Thailand is: how much? That’d be how much to tip the guy you took back to your hotel room. I’m not gonna tell you. Actually it’s not that I won’t, but rather I already have. Go hunt that post down if you must. This post, instead, is about all of the other guys – as well as those who once were guys – who will expect you to tip them. The easy rule of hand is to tip everyone. You’ll be a popular customer and all the boys will talk about what a big heart you have. All of the other customers, most of whom are expats, will talk about what a jerk you are and about how you are ruining their world. Don’t worry about it. Those guys grumble about everything anyway. The trick is to tip enough and to the right people to not be confused with an expat, and to not overtip to the point that all of the boys mark you as a sucker. Regardless of the years you’ve spent gaining that reputation.

So fill your pockets full of baht and get ready, here’s your definitive guide to tipping in Bangkok’s gay gogo bars:

Barkers & Touts: These are the guys who grab various parts of your body as you saunter down the soi trying to decide which bar to enter. Most visitors hate these guys. It’d be different if they grabbed the parts of you that you’re planning on having grabbed, but that you’ll have to wait for until you are inside a bar.

Veteran bar goers scoff at the idea of tipping barkers. Shooting them, yes. Handing over some cash? Not so much. But if you consider that tipping in the gay gogo bar world is more about extortion than gratitude, tipping the soi’s touts is a smart move. After doing so, the next time you stroll down the street they’ll be less aggressive and will greet you with a warm smile instead of pulling your arm off.

Captains: In theory, mamasans and captains are the same. In practice, captains don’t become mamasans until they master the trick of being overly aggressive, pushy, demanding, and greedy. Oh, and extremely annoying. So while most captains are mamasans, for now we’ll pretend they are actually part of the human race and are there to help you. That won’t last long.

The captain will be the first person you meet when you enter the bar. His job is to direct you to a seat. The bars are seldom so crowded you actually need help finding a seat, but the bars have learned that without a captain to direct traffic, newbies only make it as far as the first few steps into a bar. Then they stand there, dropped jaw, mesmerized by the naked and hard studs on stage. This would not be a problem except there is no money in it for the bar, so they’ve learned to help you to a seat where you can order a drink and start emptying your wallet.

It is not unusual at an entertainment venue to tip the person who seats you to score the best seat in the house. But this is Thailand. So fuck that. As the evening progresses you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tip staff members, no reason to jump in quite yet. Besides, it’s time for you to establish who is boss. The captain will lead you to either a chair at stage side, or to a spot on one of the benches, making other customers scoot over while half of the tables are still empty. Ignore him. It’s good practice for when he transforms into a mamasan.

The stage-side seats at first glance appear to be prime viewing. But sitting there means you’ll spend your evening staring up at the naked boys and you’ll spend the next day trying to find a chiropractor to fix the crick in your neck (you’d think with all the massage places in town you’d be able to find relief easily, but all of those places are in business to give you a different kind of relief). Sitting at stage-side also exposes you to various body fluids that tend to fly around once the show starts. The view from a few feet back is not only better, but safer too.

Thais are comfortable with what is familiar to them and since the captain has been sitting customers at the same table all night he’ll direct you to one that is overcrowded and overflowing. You do not want to sit there. Most of those potential tablemates are not really people you want to associate with. Plus, you will want plenty of empty space around you to fill with boys. So head in the opposite direction instead and stake out your claim at an empty table.

Waiters: After sitting down the captain will take your drink order. It will be brought to you by a waiter. In most bars all around the world it is customary to tip your waiter. Usually for each round. Thais have not yet figured this out and there is no reason for you to help them add to their tipping repertoire. Accept your drink and keep your wallet where it belongs.

The exception to this rule is when you’ve checked out all of the boys on stage and decided they all suck. Before you head off to a different bar for a better selection of meat, take a minute and check out your waiter. He may just be exactly what you have in mind. Just because he is not standing naked on stage does not mean he is not available. He is, after all, Thai. You’ll pay the bar a higher fee for offing him than you would for one of the bar boys, but waiters are usually much less jaded and have not learned how to screw you without having to screw you. Yet.

If you don’t off your waiter, at the end of your time in the bar he’ll be the employee who brings you your change. He will make sure your change is lots of worthless coins and almost as worthless small bills. The bars know guys hate coins and most will leave them as a tip regardless of how much they add up to. Don’t be surprised if your change includes coins worth several hundred baht.

A lot of customers are cheap bastards and do not leave anything as a tip, so whatever you tip will be fine. Depending on how long you sat at the bar, how cute the waiter is, and if you have a boy you are offing (who will watch to see how much you tip so he can establish how much extra to ask you for to cover his taxi after your orgasm), an acceptable tip is between 20 and 100 baht. Though if you leave 100 baht on purpose, you’ll be the first person that month to do so.

The tip you leave in the check wallet does not go to your waiter. No matter how cute he is. It goes to the ‘house’ and is supposed to be split among the waitstaff at the end of the evening. Good luck with that. If you want to tip your waiter and not the bar manager and owner, hand the check wallet back to him (with or without coins) and then place your tip directly in his hand. He gets to keep what you fork over in this manner.

It’s considered rude to tip your waiter by shoving a few bills down his pants while you cop a feel. Rude, but not unheard of. You may weigh the chance that others will think you are rude against the opportunity to molest a hot Thai guy and decide it’s worth it. Then go for it. Play dumb (you never know when a bar is looking to hire a new mamasan), you’ll get the same insincere wai that those who thought they should abide by their moral code while in a whorehouse do. Your stiffy is on the house.

Boys on Stage: If Thais were able to obtain visas for travel to other countries they’d be more clued in to tipping customs in the rest of the world. Lucky for you, they are not. While elsewhere it is customary for patrons to stuff bills in gogo boys’ g-strings while they are performing on stage, in Thailand this is not a normal practice. Even if you reach up and fondle a boy, tipping him while on-stage is not required. Fondling him while he is on stage is not required either, and is in fact not appreciated. That’s what the empty spot next to you is for. But if you can not control yourself, well, it’s amazing what a 100 baht will do toward smoothing a Thai’s ruffled feathers.

Boys Sitting With You: Unlike a boy on stage, when you are fondling one sitting with you, a tip is required. Even if you are too shy to play with the merchandise. The bar would rather you buy the boy a drink. The boy would rather you give him cash. Actually, the boy would rather you off him and give him lots of cash, but if instead you decide to throw him back into the pond, you should tip him for his time. 20 baht is plenty for a short, non-fondling chat. 100 baht is generous if you played with him; it’s not like he gave you a blow job. Unless he did give you a blow job. Then you may want to tip a bit more.

Screeching Queens: You need not, however, tip a boy who approached you on his own. Invariably, these are the fem boys who screech out a ‘Sawaaaatdeeeee kaaaaaaaa’ when they plant their ass next to you. If you lack taste in men and like this kind of boy, then feel free to keep him with you and tip him for his time. If on the other hand he makes you consider going straight, your duty is to convince him to leave you alone, not to tip him.

Getting rid of an unwanted companion at a gay gogo bar in Thailand is not easy. Little screeching queens all want to be fabulous ladyboys when they grow up, but usually become mamasans instead. Ignorance is something they are earnestly striving to master. If you try and send one on his way by saying something like, “No thank you,” it will not work. Do not be polite. His English speaking skills may be minimal, so sign language is your best form of communication. And you have several choices. The most polite is a brushing away gesture with your hand. This works best with an look of extreme disgust on your face. A quicker acting gesture, and one everyone understands, is an emphatically thrown middle finger. Best yet is the ‘two fingers in your mouth, gag reflex in use’ gesture which is also understandable the world over. The plus with using this gesture is he’ll screech in horror as he scurries away. Which is entertaining in its own right.

Boys on Your Lap: Closely related to the screeching queen is the other screeching queen who demands a tip while he is spread across your lap while being fucked by one of his bar mates. If you are too drunk to identify this tipping opportunity, the screeching queen will help you out by yelling, “Tip Meeeeeeee!” in your face. Well, actually at your crotch. This is not a tip, it is extortion. Get over it and tip him quickly so he moves on to the next sucker. Unfortunately, they don’t make 10 baht notes, so you’ll have to waste a green bill to free yourself from this horror.

You may wonder how the fucking act decides which customers get their attention. Which really means you may be wondering how to avoid having a little Thai ladyboy wannabe getting fucked on your lap. Simple. The customers who have tipped the captain for showing them to a seat, tipped the waiter every time he brought a drink, and tipped every screeching queen who planted their ass next to him, are the ones they zero in on. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and guys who tip too much at gay gogo bars.

Boys Massaging You: Whether you called a boy over, bought him drinks and tipped him, or were too big of a pussy to send the little screeching queens fleeing from your presence, if the boys in the bar note you are handing out baht they will flock to you. Throwing a bit of cash around means half of the boys will soon be surrounding you. When the good tip-getting spots are taken and a boy is already sitting on each side of you, others will stand behind you, to your side, or in front of you and massage your neck, your hands, and/or your legs (all three of them).

As with most services in the bar whether you allow this is up to you. But if you do, again, it is customary to tip the boys working on your body parts. 20 baht per boy is fine. Maybe 100 baht to the one kneeling in front of you if he kept his hands behind his back.

Boys in the Toilet: In many of the gay gogo bars you’ll also get a shoulder or neck massage when you are trying to take a piss in the toilet. I’m not sure how this custom started, or who thought a guy would enjoy a neck massage when he is trying to empty his bladder, but there ya go. Much like the screeching queens who get fucked on your lap, consider the toilet massage extortion, hand over a 20 baht note and pray the sucker leaves you alone so you can pee in peace.

The toilet massage guys are not exactly at the top of the pecking order in the bar and some become quite aggressive in their pursuit of a tip. Amazingly, they have not figured out they could get a big tip by dropping to their knees, but instead will just keep mauling your upper body in an effort to get more baht out of you. If the first 20 baht didn’t do the trick and they still won’t leave you alone, do not fall for their additional extortion attempts. You’re already armed, just direct your flow in his direction and he’ll get the idea. Or you’ll find the sole kinky Thai in Bangkok.

The Boy You Take Home: All those 20 baht tips you’ve been handing out for attention, or to be left alone, add up. If you’ve been careful, you may have enough money left to actually off a boy and take him back to your hotel with you. If you do, you probably have sex on the mind. Everyone else has more tips in mind.

The mamasan who tallies up your check bin, with off fee included, will ask for a tip. Not because she did anything to earn it, but because she’s learned that being pushy works with most Westeners. Even though she expended the least amount of effort out of all of the bar employees you tipped during your visit, she will expect 100 baht as a tip. Ignore her.

Giving money to mamasans only encourages them. She is going to demand some of the tip you give to your boy when he returns to the bar anyway. Besides, when she was younger she dreamed of a fabulous future as a ladyboy on stage, Instead she grew old and ugly and could only find employment as a mamasan. So she’s used to being disappointed. It’d be cruel of you to hold out some hope by giving her a tip, allow her to wallow in her misery while she reflects on what it was she did in a previous life to have come back as a mamasan in this one. That can count as the cultural experience for your trip.

When you get back to your hotel, unless you have been careful about where you booked, the hotel too will want a tip. They call theirs a joiner fee. It’s a tip for using your room for sex and is usually a fixed-price, anywhere from 400 to 1,000 baht and more. The hotel acts as a pimp and pimps are the only Thais you’ll run across who refuse to negotiate price. So don’t bother. Pay up. You really don’t want to waste time in the lobby when all the fun will be up in your room anyway.

Lastly, of course, is the boy himself. I already told you I’m not using this post to discuss appropriate tips for your boy d jour. But as big of a concern for newbies as how much is when. This is the part of the night where fantasy takes off and forking over cash ruins that fantasy for may customers. Fortunately, the custom in Thailand is to pay for the goods after delivery. You tip the boy after he is dressed and ready to leave. This also allows you to decide how much to tip, depending on how good of a time you had. Or how badly you hurt him.

Some guys feel most comfortable leaving the tip on the dresser (but if you do you will have to point to it). Most slip the tip to the guy just before he walks out the door. Surprisingly, most boys will take your tip without counting it, wai, smile, and leave. Not surprisingly, others count it carefully, and then, regardless of how much you tipped, ask for more. They usually will ask for money for a taxi as the excuse for more baht. You can avoid feeling like you have to give your boy more cash by making sure the tip you give includes a handful of smaller baht notes. The greedy ones will still ask, but you already got yours so ignore their pleas of poverty.

Outside of Bangkok: As a newbie you may not yet have made it to the sex tourist capital of the world, Pattaya. Tipping in Pattaya is different than tipping in Bangkok, or in any other city or town in Thailand. In Pattaya, you’ll be expected to tip everywhere you go because the entire town is a brothel. At the same time, Pattaya attracts the biggest number of cheap bastards, so being stiffed on a tip is par for the course.

You can quickly go broke tipping in Pattaya, so embrace the cheap bastard within you; no worries, you’ll blend into the crowd. A good trick if you do not want to be constantly hassled for a tip, is to learn a few phrases of Russian. Then no one will expect a tip out of you. Nor will they want to have anything to do with you. Even to a Thai, there are somethings one just doesn’t do for any amount of money.

>>> Next ‘First Timer’s Guide To Bangkok Gay Go Go Bars’ Post

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It’s Not An Either Or Proposition

29 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in It's A Gay World, Smells Like Science

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Gay Thailand Forums

What were they thinking?

It’s always amazed me that sexpats, particularly in Pattaya, who spend their days walking, breathing, and thinking about sex, all have bellies that would make Santa jealous. Their preoccupation with sex, even at their advanced age, should result in a hell of a lot of calories being burned daily. I’d think that anyone devoting so much of their day to sexual athletics would, at the very least, have the body of the slim Oprah instead of the fat Oprah. But spend an afternoon at one of Pattaya’s gay beaches and you are in for a day of whale watching. How is it possible to maintain a 300 pound+ physique when you are spending hours daily sweating off an orgasm?

Yup, smells like science to me.

According to a soon to be published study in the Journal of Sex Research, the old paradigm that claimed men think about sex every seven seconds, is wrong. Even in Pattaya. Researchers at Ohio State University found men think about sex 19 times a day. But think about food just as often. And it appears that in Pattaya, they think about sex often, but act on their food thoughts even more.

Psychologist Terri Fisher, who led the study, found that men are just as likely to be considering what to have for supper than they are to be dwelling on sexy thoughts. Her team asked a group of 160 women and 125 men to record their thoughts, by means of a golf tally counter, to count how often sex, sleep, and food popped into their minds daily over a week long period. Fisher considered those three activities to be the primary ‘need-based’ considerations of the average human being, and failed to take in to account that for men they also qualify as our favorite three activities.

The male brain is also capable of multi-tasking.

Not surprisingly, the men participating in the study clicked off sexual thoughts twice as often as the women. Fisher, however, warns that result may be due to nothing more than that men are just more comfortable racking up their clicker numbers. Typical of a female researcher who just can’t wrap her mind around how guys think, she had no similar concern with the men in her study also thinking about sleep and food more often than the women in tthe study. The conclusion she seemed to have overlooked is that men just use their brains more often than women do.

Of course, not all men are created equally. The study’s published findings – which relied upon the statistic that men think about sex 19 times each day to garner press – used an average of the actual individual results. The participating men’s clicks for sexual thoughts ranged from once a day to 388 times a day. Thoughts about food clocked in from a low of 12 times to a high of 43 times, with the mean rather than the average far exceeding the number of times men thought about sex.

While Pattaya has the rep of a town full of sex addicts prowling the streets in search of their next orgasm, it appears those seniors stumbling down the street drooling in expectation might actually be on the prowl for a hot pastrami sandwich instead.

A Walk On The Wild Side @ Bangkok’s Tawan Bar

28 Wednesday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Dancing With the Devil, The World of Thailand's Gay Gogo Bars

≈ 12 Comments

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Gay GoGo Bars, Offs, Tawan Bar

Tawan Bar is the muscle lovers’ paradise in Bangkok.

Sure it was only a photo on an iPhone. But still, the ladyboy looked more boy than lady. Back home, she’d have transcended the drag queen moniker. But in Bangkok, the average ladyboy is a vision of fabulousness. They often fool unsuspecting tourists. And by that standard, she was sorely lacking. But then when you make your living as one of the muscle studs at Tawan Bar, pulling off the glamour of a Thai ladyboy is no mean feat.

I’d met Kim on a previous visit to Tawan Bar, Bangkok’s famous muscle palace. About a year earlier, I’d visited the bar with my friend Noom. Kim was one of the bar boys he trained. A young, slightly chubby Thai – who had for some reason decided he looked best as a blonde – Kim had a gorgeous smile and an ass just as spectacular and inviting. But I was with Noom. And while Kim was cute, he still had a bit of poundage he needed to rid himself of before he really qualified as a muscle hunk.

My more recent visit was later the same year and I’d headed to Tawan at the beginning of my trip, sans Noom. Kim had lost the blonde look as well as most of the excess weight. I was glad to see that his ass had not suffered during the process. I did not recognize him at first, but he did me and quickly planted his most outstanding feature next to mine. It always amazes me how Thai bar boys can remember a customer, even one they haven’t gone with, years later. But it’s a good trick of the trade, and a good excuse to hit a patron up for a bit of business.

Previous friendship established, and after asking, “Where Noom?’ to ensure the coast was clear, Kim got down to business. But he could not rely on the standard set of bar boy questions having already established my bona fides, and his English was not good enough to start up some other idle chitchat. Massaging my leg and then grabbing my hand to run it up his leg and onto his crotch seemed his best bet. Yes, actions do speak louder than words. Prior to meeting Noom, that would have been enough to close the sale for me, but knowing Noom would soon find out I’d offed Kim left me a bit concerned about the whole thing.

Kim sensed my reluctance. I’m not sure why he decided his iPhone photo would be a good ploy, but he pulled it out and showed me anyway. Oh, goody. A ladyboy. Not my particular brand of excitement. But I’m not always rude so I made an appreciative grunt and handed the phone back to Kim. He quickly figured out I didn’t get it, and cleared up the confusion by proudly exclaiming, “Me!” while thumbing his chest.

Tawan occasionally has a ladyboy act come in for their nightly show. And, when they decide a fucking act is needed, finds a fem guy to bottom though he is never part of their regular stable either. The guys show off their hard cocks regularly, and none seem to mind sucking or being sucked on stage. Most nights the last shows ends in a jack-off contest (featuring the boys, not the customers). But the guys at Tawan have a reputation of all being tops. And gay for pay. Scoring a bottom at Tawan is not the norm. And when you do, the boy makes sure you know he doesn’t want his barmates to know about it. The idea of one of the muscle studs having a ladyboy side to him was unusual to say the least.

I’ve spent enough time in Bangkok’s gay gogo bar world to have learned how to best communicate with guys who speak little English. I’ve also spent enough time in Bangkok’s gay gogo bar world to know all bar boys are a bit vain and love a compliment. I’ve never complimented a boy on how good he looks as a woman before, but evidently pulled it off well enough by the look of the smile on Kim’s face. And then he went for the close. “You like?”

Huh. Well, not really. Kim was cute. His newly developed body ripe. And then there was his ass. The idea of him dressed in drag didn’t do a thing for me. But the idea that he’d take on the bottom role was intriguing. However, the assumption that all ladyboys bottom is a faulty one. Most will tell you, once you get to know them, that the majority of their customers are straight and want to be fucked by a ladyboy. I’ll never understand breeders.

Still not sold, I used short words and descriptive hand gestures to ask Kim if he was willing to bottom. His reply was a big smile and an often heard – and as often false – bar boy claim, “Shure!”

Yeah. Right. Kim saw my doubt and clarified his position on positions with an emphatic nod. Double huh.

Every stud in a gogo bar looks like a hunk sitting next you in nothing but a small pair of underwear. When they change into their street clothes, sometimes your little stud turns into a little fem. With Kim’s ladyboy photo in mind, I was concerned if I did off him he’d show up dressed in drag. Thinking my disappointment would be for the opposite reason he apologized. Pointing at his cell phone as reference he said with much sorrow, “I not have clothe wit me.”

Ah, gee. What a shame. Noom was still a concern though. But we’d recently come to an agreement that it was okay for me to play (though I was supposed to tell him about it first). Minor details, what the hell, and I was sure if I’d stress the ladyboy part of Kim, Noom would not feel in the least bit threatened. Self-serving justifications I’m sure, but they were enough to calm my concerns and free me to give Kim a try. He was thrilled with the off, and I was thrilled when he showed back up in his street clothes that he looked like a guy. Off to my hotel we headed.

In my room, Kim was a bit shy and giggled a lot. But he had no problem in getting right down to business. I don’t know if with his ladyboy side he considered himself to be gay, but he responded well to kissing and by the time I’d taken all of his clothes off was hard as a rock. The little noises he made in response to a bit of ass play boded well too.

I love showering with a bar boy. Or playing in the shower with a bar boy to be more precise. Most are not as fond of the shared shower thingy and prefer to clean up in private. Kim made his preference clear when I swatted his ass and told him to go take a shower; he grabbed my hand to pull me along. I also like a bit more of a participatory indulgence than the traditional muscle worship thingy, but have to admit that I was totally satisfied with soaping Kim’s taught body up, working up a rich, sudsy lather as my hands explored every inch of his body. And then he returned the favor. Using his mouth.

Beyond clean, we used up the hotel’s supply of hot water and then he motioned me out so he could finish cleaning himself in private. That’s always a good sign when you are planning on topping a bar boy. When he finished, he walked back into the room naked and hard, not displaying any of the towel-wrapped modesty that many bar boys do. Hopping onto the bed, he showed no modesty either, quickly adopting a position that left no confusion over what he had in mind.

Triple huh. A muscle stud with the heart of a ladyboy and the habits of a sex pig. All those good karma points I’d been racking up over the year were finally paying off. I took my time with Kim; there was nothing I suggested that he balked at. And I was glad a sturdy table was part of the room’s furnishings. I think he had as good of a time as I did, he stayed rock hard throughout, and wasn’t shy about communicating what he wanted either. He blew a massive load with me deep inside of him, and then after cleaning up and showering together again, settled into my arms, wrapping his body around mine for a night’s sleep.

The next morning there was no question about whether or not we would reprise the activities of the night before. He woke me with his hand firmly around my cock, aiming it where he wanted it the most. And – damn kids – he exploded with just as much gusto as he had the night before. We cleaned up and headed down for a late breakfast before he went home. I made a mental note that I needed to off Kim again, and hoped I’d be as lucky to catch him in his non-ladyboy outfit the next time.

That night I hooked up with my friend Noom, and immediately fessed up to my night with Kim. Before I got to the ladyboy justification, Noom laughed, “He ladyboy!”

I laughed too. And then he gave me a look that clearly said, “Don’t even think about it!”

I have not been back and have not had the chance to give Kim another try. Yet. But if you are one of those who swear the studs at Tawan are all duds in bed, that they won’t do anything and never bottom; think again. There’s at least one guy working there just as built and masculine looking as the others, who is a ladyboy – and a willing bottom – at heart.

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I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy: Souvenirs

27 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Dancing With the Devil, I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy

≈ 7 Comments

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Chiang Mai, Luang Prabang, Markets & Shopping

Chiang Mai’s Sunday Night Market spills over into the plaza at the Tha Pae gate.

I’m not sure what it is that resides in travellers’ souls that requires purchasing mementos of trips made, but souvenirs are a de rigueur part of the travel experience. Whether it is for bragging rights or a need for a physical reminder to help stir memories, everyone seems to need to buy at least one small keepsake from the places they’ve visited. That so many souvenirs on display at markets heavily trafficked by visitors qualify as tacky makes me wonder why in the world is it that a four foot tall carving of a frog holding an umbrella over its head is what stirred your soul and promised to provide memories of your trip to Bali? I just don’t get it.

Anywhere you go in SE Asia where touri congregate there are hundreds of souvenir stands huddled together offering a wide range of tchokies that would make any self-respecting gay man shudder at the thought of having on display in his home. Straight touri don’t seem to have quite as high standards. It’s almost as if visitors don’t have a mind, or will, of their own and instead believe the best choice of souvenir must be whatever it is the locals have decided to try and sell you.

Elephants are big in Thailand. Because the Thai people love elephants. And so they assume everyone else in the world loves elephants too. Granted, I doubt if there is anyone in the world who hates elephants, but gluing an elephant’s likeness on any and everything you sell to tourists? I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve been perusing merchandise at a market in Thailand only to have the vendor pull out a sample of whatever it is I’m looking at and exclaiming proudly, “Elephant!” And yup, sure enough, there’s an elephant someone’s glued to what might have been a decent souvenir. Thanks for that. No sale.

Don’t get me wrong. Elephants are cool. They are part of the Thailand travel experience. And I have an official elephant souvenir. On a trip up north with friends we visited one of the elephant camps where the pachyderms paint pictures during their show and I bought one. Tacky? Maybe. But I don’t have kids and so don’t have bad drawings or paintings to proudly display on my refrigerator. Substituting a painting done by an elephant for one by an offspring appealed to me. And say what you will, but that damn beast did a much better job than anything I could have whipped out in five minutes with nothing but a few jars of poster paint.

Elephant Artesian

Whenever I visit Chiang Mai I spend at least one night roaming the Night Bazaar. It’s what you do in Chiang Mai. Any of the other night markets – the Sunday Night Market, Saturday Night Market, or either of the Friday Night Markets – offers a better selection of merchandise and cheaper prices. But still I end up at the Night Bazaar at least once on every trip. With the exception of the fake Tiffany/fake silver booths, the merchandise offered to touri has not changed since my first visit over twenty years ago. I have a strong suspicion some of the items on display are the same pieces I saw over twenty years ago too.

I was with my friend Ann the first time I visited Chiang Mai. Between us we had three to four dozen people for whom we needed to buy a souvenir. While I can somewhat understand the desire for a memento from places you’ve visited, I do not understand why there is a need to bring something home to friends, family, and co-workers. It seems almost cruel to me to give them a physical reminder of your good fortune in flying off to some exotic locales while they stayed at home and worked. But try and not make those purchases, try and not bring everyone back a souvenir They’ll all be pissed at you.

Rather than buy something different for each person on our combined list, we decided to buy a bunch of the same small gift. Souvenirs are cheap in Chiang Mai and even cheaper when you are buying by the handful. I suppose we could have gone with the traditional whatevers with an elephant glued to it, but instead opted for some small colorful little rubber heads you could mold into various shapes. Other than coming from Thailand, there was nothing Thai about them. But they were good for a laugh and we figured the lack of a glued on elephant was a plus.

Looks Thai to me.

If you haven’t seen these little critters before, meaning you have never been to the Night Bazaar in Chiang Mai, they are balloons that have been filled with a dense white powder. Rather than elephants, they have a pair of eyes glued on them, and usually a sprig or two of yarn as hair. They are kinda stupid. So is bringing fifty small balloons filled with a suspicious white powder back into the US from a visit to an area known for producing the majority of the world’s heroin supply. Yup, the guys at Customs saw a promotion in their future when we arrived at immigration in Honolulu.

We lost one to inspection. And everyone laughed. The Customs Officers chuckled over their stupidity, we laughed at ours. Someone on our list didn’t get their official souvenir from our trip to Thailand. My office staff wasn’t as lucky.

All my employees made appreciative noises over the gift the boss brought back from his travels and proudly displayed theirs at their desk. Not much else you can do with a tacky piece of rubber your idiot boss has given you as a gift. I’m sure after a week or two they all would have started disappearing, shuffled into a spare drawer with hopes their absence would go unnoticed. But they didn’t last that long. The balloons used were not industrial strength rubber. Within a week, after a bit of play, idly sitting next to computer screens, they all began to explode. White powder flew, coating everything with a few feet. So those were souvenirs that just kept giving.

I bought another handful on my most recent trip, the perfect souvenir to hand out to my new circle of friends.

Buddhas and bags at Chiang Mai’s Night Bazaar.

Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life, is big on souvenirs. Anywhere we go, he needs to buy a remembrance of our trip. Even if that trip was only to MBK. Or the corner 7/11. Bona fide trips, of course, require a bit more consideration over the appropriate souvenir. And there is a tier to the souvenirs we buy for others, too. Papa always gets something nice, specifically geared toward his taste. Then there is a group of like items for other family members. His ex-wife doesn’t get anything, but his daughters do. Those used to fall into the larger ‘family’ group until he fessed up to having progeny. Now I make him pick out something a bit nicer for his kids. He also needs a handful of small gifts for co-workers and friends along the soi. Cheap seems to be the operative word in that selection. And the heart of those gifts isn’t “I thought of you” but rather, “I went to (Fill in the blank) and you didn’t.”

Noom is as fond of the word ‘souvenir’ as he is of buying them. For some reason though he can never remember what the English word is. So on every trip we play twenty questions when he tries to get me to furnish the word to him. That used to be a frustrating chore, it’s not an easy word to provide appropriate clues to. Now, after a stab or two he just says, “You know. Before.” And then happily repeats the word a few times to sear it into his consciousness. It’s a word he needs to remember; he’ll use it often during our upcoming trip.

Noom knows, within reason, anything he sees that he wants I’ll end up buying for him. He’s not greedy about it; if it is for him it always is something that speaks to his soul. Still, he doesn’t like to take chances, so to ensure he doesn’t get a turned down, he always prefaces his request with, “Souvenir.’ I’m not sure why he’s decided that means I can’t say no, but then again I never have, so he may be onto something.

Luang Prabang’s Night Market

Flying off to some foreign land has become routine for him. We’ve travelled enough together that the plane ride is no longer a special experience. Still, he has some of the child in him and has to check everything out. On our trip to Laos, he found the barf bag in his seat’s pocket. That was new to him. And confusing, too. He held it up with a questioning look, waiting for me to explain. I did. And he carefully folded it up, tucked it into his bag and proclaimed “Souvenir,” I hoped the barf bag was for him and not for someone else on his list.

Our first night in Luang Prabang, Noom’s head busily swiveled back and forth as we walked through the beginnings of the night market on our way to dinner. The shopping bug was biting, but from experience I knew if I let him run free we’d never make it to dinner. I kept walking at a clipped pace repeating the mantra, “We eat” over and over while he followed along trying his damndest to remember where each stall was that offered something he was interested in. Admittedly, I was curious too, but a quick perusal seemed to suggest what was on sale were the same trinkets available pretty much anywhere in Thailand. Which means trinkets made in Vietnam.

After dinner, and no longer being denied, Noom got busy souvenir shopping. But now that he could actually shop he too realized what was being offered was all available back home. There’s not much else to do in Luang Prabang at night so everyone in town shows up for the night market. It’s a large market spread out along Sisavangvong Road. Like night markets geared toward touri in Thailand, there are maybe a dozen different booths. Repeated endlessly. And every vendor will proudly claim they personally make whatever it is you are thinking about buying from them, ignoring that the same exact item is for sale two stalls away. The pickings were slim, Noom was disappointed and decided to wait for the morning market to see if he could find something more original. Or at least something not from Thailand. But that’s a different tale.

Luang Prabang’s morning market offers a different type of merchandise.

Still souvenir-less, we hit the night market again on our last night in town. Purchases had to be made even if what was available to buy barely qualified as something from Laos. Tradition dictates that Noom finds whatever it is he wants to buy, barters heavily with the vendor to reach a mutually agreeable price, informs me of the finial price (because even though I’m standing right there I obviously can’t hear the discussion), reminds me why the purchase needs to be made (“souvenir”), and then waits patiently for me to get the cash out to hand to him to hand to the vendor. A rather drawn out process. I decided to cut a few steps out and instead started the night off by handing him a wad of kip.

“This for you to buy souvenirs with,” I told him as we headed to the $1.25 buffet dinner soi.

Change isn’t necessarily a good thing. Noom’s forehead scrunched up, not quite understanding the new paradigm but happy about having a wad of kip in hand. At the food stall he tried to pay for his own meal but I explained the cash I’d given him was just for souvenirs, not his entire budget for the rest of the trip. His forehead unscrunched a bit. And he filled his plate, adding a few hunks of meat at an additional charge now that their cost wasn’t coming out of his pocket.

Hitting the market after dinner, however, was a whole new world. It wasn’t just that a list of souvenirs for him and the people in his life needed to be bought, but that now he had a specific amount to spend. And he went about it with a fierce determination. My role changed little. My primary purpose stayed the same: to stand by and watch as he haggled over price and over selection of goods. But our money, or my money, had all of a sudden become Noom’s money and the bartering took on a new light.

Thai silk umbrellas, made in Vietnam, for sale in Laos.

There is nothing more heartwarming than watching a Thai barter for goods with a Laotian. Every kip, or baht, counts. On both sides. Earlier in the trip I’d gotten Noom to move away from baht pricing after showing him on my calculator that by dealing in kip instead you got a better deal. Still, it was in baht that his value laid so as he bartered he’d constantly wait for me to calculate out what the kip figure translated into baht. He’d wait impatiently for me to provide the figure, then snort in disgust and offer another lowball figure to the vendor.

No Laotian went home rich that night.

Noom bought his papa a new bedspread, his daughters dolls. He bought a mass of fake silver trinkets for his friends on the soi and some worthless knickknacks for various family members. He haggled fiercely over the price of a T shirt and then once the deal was made had me pick one out. He hadn’t forgotten me and bought me a souvenir too. That’s the kind of thing he does that makes me love the dude.

And then he began shopping for himself.

Noom barters for his final souvenir.

I haven’t a clue as to how much he had left when he started finding the perfect souvenir for himself but watching him was a riot. It wasn’t just about what he wanted and how much he could buy it for, but how much would then be left and what more he could then buy. But he did good. And we ended up at the last booth closest to the hotel at the end of he evening with the vendor wanting to pack up and go home while Noom tried to spend the last few kip burning a hole in his pocket. The vendor soon caught on that the muscled Thai boy had a specific amount of kip to spend and started showing him which items he could select from that he’d be willing to let go at that price. It became a question of quantity rather than quality and he ended up getting three small items, the most heavily haggled souvenirs he’d bought that night.

Noom was pleased with his haul and took great care in packing it all away for the trip home. Even the barf bag from the plane. The next morning we got to the airport early. With time to kill we went across the road to check out the airport’s souvenir shop. They followed the SE Asian tradition of trying to make their profits off of one customer because so few potentials wandered in. Noom found most of what he’d already bought. At three times the price. Which increased the value of what he had bought by tenfold. He scoffed and snickered in delight at the high prices.

On board the plane a momentary panic ensued when there was no barf bag in Noom’s seat pocket. I surrendered my official Bangkok Airways souvenir for the cause, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently the new one along with the inbound one were in fact intended as mementos of his trip for someone he knew. And I considered a handful to pass out with my little exploding balloon heads might not be a bad idea either.

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Monk Shot! #39

27 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Monk Shot!, Travel Photography

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Tags

Luang Prabang, Monks, Photography

Peek-A-Boo Monk

Wandering down Sisavangvong Road in Luang Prabang, we hit a side street that led down to the Nam King and decided to go walk along the river. But then ran across Wat Siphouthabath on the way. A short but steep set of stairs led up to the wat, the complex of which was far more extensive than it appeared from the road. At the far end, a small handful of classrooms teemed with novice monks, just finishing their morning lessons.

Within minutes there were more monks to shoot than I’d ever could have wished for. I got some great photos, but this one is a favorite. I’m not sure why this little guy needed to redress himself before heading out for lunch, but it made for a nice switch-up on the ‘monk robe through shuttered window’ shot.

Happy Boxing Day!

26 Monday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in It's A Gay World

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And More!, Nude Dudes

Today is Boxing Day in pretty much every English speaking country except the U.S. Which is kinda odd because Americans love holidays and any excuse to party. But then a lot of us get the day after Christmas off from work anyway, and a good number get the entire week off as many businesses have learned their employees are not worth crap for the week between Christmas and New Years, so it’s better to just shut the doors and be done with it.

I spent one Boxing Day in London, and asked several different locals to explain the holiday. I got the same answer from everyone: It’s the day we box up the stuff we got for Christmas we don’t like and return it to the store. And I give Thais a bad time for their sense of humor.

But it turns out no one is really sure what the ‘boxing’ part of the day refers to. The most likely theory is it was the traditional day that people gave money and other gifts to those who were needy and/or in service positions. In the UK, it was a custom for tradesmen to collect ‘Christmas boxes’ of money or presents on the first weekday after Christmas as thanks for good service throughout the year. This custom is linked to an older English tradition: in exchange for ensuring that wealthy landowners’ Christmases ran smoothly, their servants were allowed to take the 26th off to visit their families. The employers gave each servant a box containing gifts and bonuses (and sometimes leftover food).

But Google tells me that where celebrated today, Boxing Day is really a late version of the U.S.’s major shopping day, Black Friday. For many merchants, Boxing Day has become the day of the year with the greatest revenue. In the UK in 2009 it was estimated that up to 12 million shoppers appeared at the sales. Boxing Day is a time where shops have sales, often with dramatic price decreases. Like Black Friday in the U.S., many retailers open very early (typically 5 am or even earlier) and offer doorbuster deals and loss leaders to draw people to their stores. It is not uncommon for long queues to form early in the morning of 26 December, hours before the opening of shops holding the big sales. Of course in the U.S., we have long lines instead of queues, but otherwise? Same-same.

And like Black Friday, in more recent years, customer stampedes, injuries and even fatalities occur on Boxing Day because nothing says Christmas time like greed. This year in the U.S. a new tradition was started for Black Friday: shoppers armed themselves with pepper spray, no longer content to use small appliances as weapons. A nice heads up for Boxing Day celebrants, we’ll see if ya’ll take the cue from the world’s most voracious consumers.

It would seem a holiday devoted to shopping would be a popular one in the U.S. But most of the citizens of this country have already maxed out their credit cards to ensure their holidays were bright. Another major shopping day with deep discounts and vicious crowds? For most Americans I think it’s not that we wouldn’t like yet another official holiday, but rather it’s a case of been there, done that a month ago. Besides, we’re all busy getting ready for the supreme party of the year at the end of the week.

Whether you celebrate Boxing Day or not, the important part is that it gives me an excuse to post some pix of hot studs in boxers. And that’s a holiday I can get behind.