Day 1: Arriving

Thai Diary: Day 1

Charlie Porker
Jonny Keeps
Henry Moody
Harry Broose
Mo Tehran

With enough baht for the first night (pro) in our pockets, we headed to the airport, tired and excited, desperate to arrive in the sordid playground that so many people had described it as.

Sitting on the plane, next to Jonny, with a can of Heineken surrounded by Thai birds, I couldn't help but laugh at the damage I'd be doing to them soon with my teeth and fists.

We've decided that the first sordid game that we'll play is getting four pros, not knowing which one of them is a ladyboy and four of us will get blowies off them. Fuck, I'd be surprised if one of us didn't come back with AIDS.

Henry got the short straw and is sitting somewhere at the front of the plane alone, for 11 hours, which probably won't make him feel any better about the fact that only 3 days ago Mo had his tongue in his girlfriend's mouth, and his hands all over her fat arse. So he's got 11 hours to sit and think about that. There are no fucking TVs on the plane, just rice pickers.

'Tell me a fit bird you've seen who doesn't have a Kinder Bueno in her hand.' The first of many trademark stupid comments from Keeps, who is looking particularly stupid today, and especially like a merecat.

It still hasn't sunk in that we're going to Thailand, I feel like we'll arrive at Malaga airport for another lads holiday. None of us, except Henry, know what to expect.

There's a fit Spaniard sitting next to me. She has her shoes off, and in a weird way, I'm getting turned on by how she's sitting cross legged and cupping her feet in her hands. Can I quickly go into the toilet and beat off? No. I'll wait for a handy in a massage parlour. Me and Jonny can't stop staring at her, and I'm wondering how many Heineken's and mini bottles of red I'll have to drink before I strap a pair on and talk to her. (There is no amount, I've accepted that I can't talk to girls, let alone attractive Spaniards, so I'll just keep staring at her, and put her in the wank bank). Jonny won't shut up about how he'll put 'The Game' into use. He'll do 'the peacock' (I think that's when you wear bright clothing to draw attention to yourself).

Side thong. Caught a glimpse of her polka dot knickers clinging to her golden brown tight arse. Me and Jonny are sporting erections by this point, Broose is sketching some guns on a napkin and Henry is alone. Fuck Mo, he's the token on this trip.

Bangkok

Fucking mental. The air is hot and greasy, there's skyscrapers next to old wooden shacks. We got a tuc-tuc across the city. I've never seen somebody take as many gambles as our mad driver, in his fake Liverpool shirt, screaming and whooping every time he nearly killed us, driving up the wrong side of the road, up pavements, in front of buses. Our faces were covered in a thick layer of black grease by the time we got off. So many people were dossing in the streets, with cigarettes lazily hanging out of their mouths, a cold bottle of beer or bright orange Fanta next to them, and a dog with flies around its face lying, panting underneath their chairs. Old men sit on crates and play chess with bottle caps, cars go by endlessly sending up polluted fumes that hang in the suffocating air. There's a buzz everywhere, it's not the traffic or the people, it's something else, always there. The sun beats down and we sip ice cold Pepsi which only cost us 10 baht and tuck into an uncooked chicken skewer covered in flies but is the best thing we've ever tasted. The hotel gets sorted and we're back in the tuc-tuc racing across the streets to more whoops and yells and beeps, past shops and houses and kids running barefoot in the dirt without a care in the world.

Henry read me an extract from a porn book he always seems to keep on him, and we stand their naked, erect, sharing a moment. Anything could happen on this trip.

First Night in Bangkok

Henry couldn't have given us a better introduction to this country, it included everything I'd heard about Thailand. We stopped for lunch in a place where all the locals seemed to go. Stalls were set up with steaming food. Fish with spices and rice, chicken with peanuts and vegetables, fruits I'd never seen before, huge chunks of red beef with sticky yellow sauce and noodles sticking to it, creamy curries with lamb and spinach and big red chilli's, kebabs with potato and transparent noodles that look like skin covered in brown grease with garlic and coconut. The smell was incredible and I followed my nose to a stall and paid 20 baht for a filled plate of food and a cold Singha beer which tasted sweet and washed down the spice.

After lunch the same tuc-tuc driver took us to a massage parlour he knew. The reason he hung around is because all tuc-tuc drivers take you to places that they are linked to in some way. So this massage parlour probably paid for his petrol (we later absolutely fucked him by giving him 20 baht for a day's work, which is literally nothing, but fuck him, he had a dirty rat tash and smelt of piss). We got there and all put on matching pink outfits, which were essentially pajamas which were far too short for us. My IBS kicked in, and I had to rush a shit before the massage, problem is there was no paper, you have to wash your arse with the hose and I don't like the feel of it, so I pulled my pants up and headed into the curtained booth. We were all lying in a row, so that we could see each other's faces. I was on the end next to Broose, who was getting a massage off a massive muscly woman who could easily of had a cock. About thirty minutes into the massage, she looked down at me, smiled and mimed giving me a handy. I nodded and negotiated a price (I later found that I got ripped off, and everybody else had paid about half as much, but it was good). She used some scented oil and I blew my load after about a minute into her hand and onto the pink pajamas which probably wouldn't get washed.

Next we were in a suit shop convincing Mo to buy some shirts and possibly a lovely suit. So he splashed out on what he was conned into believing was 'Egyptian Cotton, 100% genuine, good good stuff my friend'. The shirts were terrible, they looked like the pink pajamas and had cost him a lot. So we gave him a bit of stick and headed towards some bars.

Jonny ate cockroaches and locusts, and there were loads of tourists, like us, walking through the streets amazed at the colour and noise. We got pushed into a tuc-tuc and were off to the pussy shows. Fucking hell it was dirty. It made me feel sick. Young girls walked around in short skirts on stage, so many of them were attractive, and pervy old men looked on negotiating prices with the pimps.

Then it was the pussy show. Mo got a handy whilst watching off a man, who then ordered about thirty drinks, so as well as spending about £100 on shit shirts, he now had a massive bar bill. Broose was batting ping pongs back at them- it's incredible how far they can fire the balls and darts from their pussy's, I'm talking 15 metres. I caught a ball which was wet with pussy juice, although not as strong scented as I'd have liked. Then they were pulling 30 foot of wire with razor blades from their pussy's and then firing little fireworks.

Henry and Jonny couldn't help themselves and got two pros. Both were fairly attractive, young with small tits and great legs and wide smiles. I bottled it and was angry with myself. They didn't seem like prostitutes, and I wasn't drunk enough and got all moral about it. So off to bed we went, dizzy and stinking of smoke and petrol and cheap Thai whiskey.