Big Mango Bar
drink and blog

Straight Ball’N by Canadian Boy

Posted by Canadianboy | Blog, Reader Submissions | Posted on June 28th, 2009

Our Korean friend has 5 days left in LOS and we decide to hit Pattaya for 3 days then straight back to BKK for 2 nights. He’s accepted the fact that on the final night he will not sleep and will go straight from the short-time room to Suvarnabhum.

Getting to the city limits or rather the gates of Hell, a sign reads…

THIS IS THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE.

THIS IS THE WAY TO A FORSAKEN PEOPLE.

THIS IS THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW.

WELCOME TO PATTAYA…

ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.

From this point on its a blur. The following night’s are a rioting sex-fest and a bedlam of drunken debauchery. My lungs hurt, my penis is looking like Forest Gump trying to eat a box of chocolates and my liver is as solid as a Russian T-80 fuel tank. I haven’t slept in 2 days because we’re maximizing our time together. We’re hurting and it shows. We look like crack heads… all this from doing 3 days in Pattaya. Yes, it was fun as fuck.

Now, let’s skip to the part to when we arrive back in Bangkok 2 days before his flight leaves. Its 5pm, we settle into our hotel and head over to The Big Mango for what will be the most expensive cheese burger.

So later that night we’re standing at the entrance of Soi Cowboy and for some reason it felt like the party was over in Bangkok. Our heads are buzzing like a bee hive and Soi Cowboy is closing down. Its like 2/2:30 or something and this is the time when Pattaya’s night life is lacing up the gloves to give you a fucking beating.

Silently piqued we watch as the neon lights dim, flicker and fade into nothingness. Cab drivers are swarming us… ‒Spicey, Bossy, ping pong show, you want lady?”

The Korean glances at his watch and responds…

‒Pattaya — now.”

We call our designated driver but he can’t pick us up until 4am. So we decide to make the best of the night and head to Bossy, pick up, and roll back to our hotel. Before I know it they are knocking at my door. Its time to go, and the guys are busting my nuts to move my ass. I haven’t packed and I’m now in a rush mode. I kick the girl out, scramble to pack all my shit.

By now the phone is ringing nonstop. Its annoying. Fuck it. Throw everything in my bag and bolt down the stairs. In the lobby I say to the guy’s, ‒That was the most expensive burger… ever.” Basically, we spent 900 Baht to drive from Pattaya to Bangkok to eat a fucking cheese burger only to be back in Patt’s before the rooster, crows. Nice, huh?

We call our cab driver ‒Professor Somchai” because he’s always teaching us Thai. The guy is in his late 40’s, overweight, dawns Elvis Costello glasses with the appearance and charm of Lou Costello. He dresses in baggy Sean John clothing that doesn’t scream ‒P Diddy”. Instead, more like the quiet music executive behind the scenes in the rap industry… The only thing that’s missing are a pair of Adidas or Nikes. Except he’s wearing sandals and his toe nails curl like the tips Aladdin’s boots. Its disturbing cause when he lifts his foot to walk forward his toe nails scrape against the ground. If you thought nails on a chalkboard was bad — you ain’t heard nothing.

Its after 4 am, he’s got the peddle buried, and the neon-pink, rocket is barrelin’ straight down the highway hitting every pothole with no rear, shock-suspension. The trunk space is easily taken up with our luggage and yet we still have to use the front seat for computer bags — and one more piece of luggage. So… do you know what the impacting sound of our fat asses combined with the gear in the trunk is like?

THUUU-KUNNNK!!!!

The Korean, with a German accent is passed out between us. We just pulled and all nighter and we’re suffering hangovers. My body is still reeling from the effects of the past 8 hours. I’ve smoked two packs of Marleys, and every time I burp the cab reeks so bad it jolts the Korean out of unconsciousness having him bob his head upwards slightly acknowledging the scent. Top it off with the fact – I haven’t showered
and got the smell of raunchy sex with a Thai’ hooker all over me. Also, for some reason, the distinct smell of the condoms lubrication is so over powering that it utterly reeks. Smelling my unwashed balls is what’s keeping me awake for the whole ride back. Its torture, but the worst thing is, my tounge feels like I just devoured a 10 bags of Ruffles ‒Sour Cream & Onion” chips, without something to wash down the residue.

We pull into Pattaya around 6ish (give or take) and Professor Somchai recommends breakfast. We all agree… Thou we should’ve inquired, where. The place he takes us to is a shit-dive with dilapidated, plastic patio chairs, an overhang that’s drooping downwards and white tattooed trash, perv’s with girl’s that look a little too young for my taking.

The girl’s sit with hands resting in they’re laps, slouched a little forward and are unable to hide the embarrassment due to the trash they are sitting with. Looking wearily at each other the two girl’s let the
animals gorge over eggs and bacon while still pounding they’re beers. They are loud and laugh like kings sitting at the round table slamming they’re bottles down after each sip letting the beer fizz running up and down the bottles neck. One guy grabs his cock (on the outside of his jeans) an’ starts rubbing it until its hard askin’ his date with a squalid smirk how badly she wants it… she’s smiles, nods… then turns to her friend with a stale look, starring right through her eyes to the back of her head.

I order the plain bacon and eggs and Somchai order’s something I like to not call, ‘The Breakfast of Champions’. His meal consisted of hotdog nubs the size of erasers (the ones you used in school), greasy, deep fried chicken, 2 sunny side up eggs, pancakes, with a large Coca Cola. Who the fuck considers that breakfast?

ITS GOOD 2 HAVE FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES

Thats exactly what I say to the crew as we’re standing on the balcony 21 floors up starring over Jomtian. Our friend who owns several condos has not been able to rent them and decided… instead of letting them sit empty, he’s offered us 3 units free of charge. A blessing in disguise. The condos are pure pimp’n. Modern, sheik and has all the goodies any yuppie would enjoy. Kohler Faucet taps, granite counter tops, teak wood doors and cabinets, silk sex sheets… but the best is the wireless internet connection and the LG flat screen TV with surround sound. I can’t forget to mention the swimming pool. Its a nice perk.

Smoking a cigarette in 30+ heat while basking in the suns radioactive rays at the swimming pool is a serene feeling. The past 4 days have been pure punishment on the mind and body. I have to make it through these last 24hrs and then I can crawl into a coffin and sleep for the next 48hrs. I can possibly detox at the same time. Also, my body needs an enema not a massage.

The one thing I’ve learned about the side effects of insomnia is ‘pranoia’. I’m thinking I’m going to die from lung cancer, contract some kind of V.D or worse H1. I’m worried about burning a hole right through my liver. The shakes have me guessing something is wrong with my brain… Fuck it!! Its all fun. So much for being serene.

THE NIGHT COMETH

Yes, Walking Street is a nightmare of over hanging, congested neon lights and unrelenting sounds. Girl’s — every where — and they are pretty hot girls. That’s basically it. Plain and simple. The place is a manufacturing plant of pussy. A fuck factory. The guy’s complaining that the there is nothing, must be fuckin’ nailing Super Models.

Walking into What’s Up Girl with what seem to be the same group of perv’s from before haven’t vacated the premise. They are laughing at us knowing we’d return. Everyone had forked tongues with warm, crooked smiles that welcomed us back to hell.

I forgot the name of the song but it starts out with… ‒Here’s my key… philosphy, a freak like me needs infinity… relax… take your time.” Followed by a melodic Saxaphone then the beats kick in… is blaring.

Some old dude in his 60’s was standing naked, soaking wet in a miniature pool as a naked girl is griping onto rings chained from the ceiling. Her legs are draped over his shoulders and from what it appears is, he’s eating her out… his friends are cheering him on while shaking bottles of Chang beer and spraying him all over. Girl’s are laughing, and I’m thinking…

… its good to be back.

She reaches down an’ starts giving him a hand job bringing his wrinkled, limp dick to life. He pulls his head out from between her legs and smiles bright. He clenches his jaw and enjoys the tug. Its hilarious to see and I don’t know if this guy could possibly drop dead but either way he’s gonna ‘go out’ in style and i will salute him if he does.

His mouth drops… knees buckle for a split second then dart straight as the blood and orgasmic feeling surges through his body. His friends are yelling so loud he doesn’t even give a conscious fuck about them… He’s clearly about to cum when she lets go with a smile — Blue Balls!!!

The old dude can’t believe what just happened. He looks at her demanding she finish and she demands money by rubbing thumb, fingers together. His friend’s laugh and point at him also tap his dick with
the bottom end of they’re bottles of Chang beer purposely bagging him.

He so pissed he starts to jerk off right there in the miniature tub. The Mamasan comes over laughing and telling him to stop; by slapping his hand away from his pecker. Not only is his face beat read so is
his dick.

His friend’s spray him with more Chang.

The crowd is in good spirits and everyone seems to have escaped or forgotten about the bullshit of life and guy’s are being guy’s. Old, young, its a fuckin’ frat house on Meth’. Girl’s are putting in effort with the shuffle dance and they are loud and rowdy. Just the way I like it. Girl’s hanging upside down, bottles up snatches, girls rubbing each other’s clits together or riding one another is nice to see. Thou the girl’s hanging upside down from the chains with they’re raw boxes exposed remind me of a meat locker an’ abattoir of pussy.

The only annoying thing is the whipping they do to each other with the insulating pipe tube or whatever the fuck it is. Who ever thought this was a good idea needs a flogging with barbwire.

THE BLACK HOLE

The gravitational pull of ‒Insomnia” pulls everything off the street.

Sooner or later, you somehow end up here.

There’s nothing better than entering a bar on cue with a good song banging away. Walking up the rainbow stairway to Heaven the double doors swing open and Sirens are blaring, bass is thumping so loud its knocking paint chips off the walls and The Beastie Boy’s are screaming ‒Noooooooooo Sleep Til’ Brooklyn…” bass kicks up another 1000+ decibels then everything comes crashing at a wall of silence when the Nortorious B.I.G clamps down with his lethargic, trademark baritone…. ‒Is Brooklyn in’da house…uhhhhhhhhh…”

The bass kicks back in with unforgiving reverberation…

Lasers light the place up sporadically giving the feeling you are inside a film projector as the aperture flickers with speed giving split second images of the wall to wall girls in skirts, heels, halter tops, cleavage and ass crack every where. Skank’s, skunk’s an’ everyones fucking drunk. This is a party that if a Scud Missile was heading straight for Pattaya no ones going to give a flying fuck about it.

Bitchy, Health Nazi’s complain about ‒too much smoke and too many people”, are not welcome. Complaints about hearing its packed with guys, is bullshit. What the fuck you doing taking a head count of guy’s anyway? On this night it was rammed and I will repeat it ‒rammed…. with girls”. Recession, H-1, Kim Jong with his nukes ain’t gonna make anyone flinch here. Pattaya just doesn’t give a fuck.

That’s its mentality.

We decide to hang a left and stand at the bar near the bathroom where we can take ‘stock’ of the market value. Even girl’s have to take a shit or piss at some point during the night. Its the best spot. We’re harassed and groped. I thought walking into a Go-Go in Pat Pong was bad, this was worse… and we loved it. The smiles and laughter was in overdrive. The DJ knew his shit… we had, no word of a lie, 15-20 girls surrounding us with fuck me eye$.

Its nice to have smokin’ hot girls staring at you, and you just ignore them for the time being. Most fucking mopes would delve in out of desperation worried she might get scooped up by some vulture but not us. Fuck the desperados and nabobs. These girls want cock and they want it now. They can wait. I’m enjoying my night with the elation of a war general who just slaughtered an army.

There are complete fuckin’ degenerates’ everywhere. Retards from other country’s who come here to get blitzed and they got the certificate to prove it. The worst are the mid-east pricks. I’m taking a piss at the urinal and some east Indian dude looks over at me and says, you would look good in a suit. Buddy, I’m holding my dick and your talking suit with me??

‒No, serious. You would look good. You should come by my shop”. I tell him, Bush bombed the wrong country.

The amount of girls that this ‘black hole’ contains is unreal. The front door doesn’t even have time to close, its constantly open, vomiting the girls in. Just when you think the one you want to take home is the winner another one comes trailing behind. Its unnerving and pissing me off.

My watch is reading 4:20 am. What the fuck!! The sky’s gonna be purple and why am I complaining. I’m not the one leaving tomorrow. The thought has me buying another round of drinks and shots.

The Korean sets his site on something I could best describe as a ‘sex supervisor’. A little meaty but has the curves well maintained. He calls her over and motions her to lift up her shirt, so he can see her belly. She’s confused and he asks her again… she finally complies.

He asks one of the servers if he could borrow the flash light an’ shines it on her exposed belly. I’m wondering what the fuck he’s doing. He turns to me, ‒she’s good. I take her”. What, were you looking at, if she had too many rolls? No, if she had a kangaroo pouch. What’s that supposed to mean? If she’s had a baby. I don’t trust a girl who doesn’t have her belly exposed.

I notice my brother is talking to up a smokin’ hot girl. If he wasn’t my brother I’d shank him like they do crowded prisons.

HOW DOES IT FEEL?

That’s the question being blared in my ear at an earsplitting decibel level by the Pet Shop boy’s remix. It always feels as if the next song is going to be the end. The one that kills the night and everyone has to go home. But it just doesn’t fucking stop. The tank is full and when I look around everyone still has the same energy from the moment I walked into this hole.

Time to make a point of my night and grab something. I’ve seen her on pervious nights. She’s blazin’ hot, and dances to her own grove in her own little world. Doesn’t let drunks or jar heads jacked up on steroids with a bad tan in muscle shirts talk to her. She’s the Thai version of Beyonce Knowles. I take a deep breath and remove the yogurt that has accumulated in the corners of my eyes and make my way towards her.

On my approach I’m about to brush shoulders with her and — Bang, her split second look, tells it all… it gave it away. I head off to the bathroom, on my return I’ll make her mine. I gotta take a piss so bad; my back teeth are floating.

Walking back… I move up next to her and lean in close to her ear. I can feel all the white guy’s waiting for me to get shot down. I ask her name, and if I could buy her a drink. She takes my hand and we relocate upstairs. The white dudes behind me have drop jaw and seem to be offended that I did it. They scatter like pool balls on a break.

Upstairs she’s sultry and seductively slow in her moves. Its hot. I’m taking this as a compliment. For the next 30 minutes she’s bumping and grinding her ass against me. Her skirt resembles a doily and its driving me Banannas and giving me one. I give her ass a firm grab an tell her straight up… we’re leaving now!

In the morning the Korean said his farewell and that was that. Good times.

Three weeks later an’ I’m still here…

NOW LET THE HATE BEGIN

One thing that struck me about Pattaya is how people lambaste it. To be honest… its not all that bad. Wasn’t as dirty as I thought it would be. From hearing people talk about this place my impression was that girls were walking around like zombies with condoms hanging outta they’re asses and fresh cum all over them glowing green with HIV. I thought I’d smell sewage, nonstop 24 hrs a day and cockroaches would be chasing around the rats and soi dogs. Maybe the global economy has forced the rats and soi dogs to find some where else to dwell, cause the cockroaches are all trying to sell you suits.

I’ve never seen Pattaya in high season but to me right now, as it stands, this is fine. Less drunks to deal with is always an added bonus. There are more than enough girls here to go around with. Go- Go’s seem vacant and there are moments where you could hear a pubic hair hit the stage floor. I can see some veterans complaining… but for us, It was a rock’n time. A small group of people here seem pretty cool and some of the population needs shock therapy to bring’em back to reality. The fuckin’ majority are zero class, unsanitary dross that somehow made it up the uterus and found its place in the world.

Some say Pattaya is a shithole or its the Mongers that make it a shithole… I don’t know. Who really fuckin’ cares and what’s the point.

Hands down… in my opinion… Pattaya kicks Bangkoks ass if you want to party. The fun just doesn’t stop.

Now, take it easy… please, don’t flip’yer fuckin’ lid over this. Its one persons opinion and its not written in stone. Don’t go crucifying me.

Pattaya is quiet during the week. On weekends it picks up.

If you looking to find the story in it being a ‘wasteland or ghost town’ you’ll find that too but if you want to have fun… it still has loads of it.