So me old mate Rupert’s blown back into town last night like a wrecking ball, yeah. Rings me up, says "Lewie we gotta hit our old haunt off Soi Diana", the bar we used to crawl into for days back when our wallets were plumper. Ain’t been there in ages now, so I reckoned why not, bit of draft beer, bit of banter, maybe see a few familiar lasses.

 

We rock up, barely park our arses before Rupert’s already got two tarts hangin’ off him like a pair of wedding ornaments, buyin’ them lady drinks like it's all free. Bell’s ringin’, music’s blarin’, and I’m left standin’ there holding me bell-end like the quiet one, talkin’ with the mamasan, catchin’ up on the happenings.

 

Then I spot somethin’ different. One of the girls ain’t quite what she seems, tall, bit of an Adam’s apple, feet bigger than mine, veiny hands, voice like she’s swallowed a harmonica. Ladyboy, clear as day once you clock it. So I leans over, yeah, casual like, and I ask the mamasan what’s the story morning glory. Thought it was a girly bar, not a mixed sausage buffet?

 

She just cackles like I’ve asked why water’s wet. Tells me that ladyboy’s the most popular unit they’ve got, gets taken in the back room for ST more than any of the girls. I nearly snorted me beer right across the table. Couldn’t wrap me gob around it at first.

 

Then she lays it out. Says there’s blokes who want a ladyboy but haven’t got the bullocks to flop into a ladyboy bar for one. So they come here, where the front of house is all girls, then quietly slip round back with the ladyboy under everyone’s noses. Perfect cover. No one the wiser. Bit of face saved, bar makes bank. Everyone’s chuffed to bits.

 

Sat there watchin’ Rupert get his ears nibbled by a pair of twenty-year-olds while I’m havin’ me mind blown about secret ladyboy action in what I thought was a straight-up bearded-clam bar. 

 

Place never stops teachin’ you new tricks, I swear lads. Even a bar full of pretty girls can turn out to be the perfect spot for blokes sneakin’ away for a round of peekaboo with a secret set of danglies.

Getting worse

1 hour ago, Harrisfan said:

Getting worse

Says the forum's biggest troll who gets thumbs down on every post. Most amazing thing about you Susan is that your posts can't get any worse than they already are.

14 hours ago, Lewie London said:

voice like she’s swallowed a harmonica

 

that made me cackle out loud.

 

you're an evil genius, Lewie!

 

2 hours ago, Harrisfan said:

Getting worse

You of course are as usual an expert on this subject and have first "hand" experience!!

Lewie,

 

You got balls on your chest, what have you got?

"
"
"
"

Chestnuts

 

You got balls on a wall, what have you got?

"

"~
"

"

Walnuts

 

You got balls on your chin, what have you got?

"
"
"
"
"
A mouth full of cock

Is this Ai or does somebody really write this drivel?

1 hour ago, proton said:

Is this Ai or does somebody really write this drivel?

 

I was going to ask the same question about most of your posts.

12 hours ago, DezLez said:

You of course are as usual an expert on this subject and have first "hand" experience!!

 

Exactly.

This guys sounds like he's been in Pattaya for 40 years and has seen it all.

And there are nuggets of real life experiences disguised as humor in his threads. 

Quite clever this chap. 

 

On 7/3/2025 at 12:12 AM, Lewie London said:

So me old mate Rupert’s blown back into town last night like a wrecking ball, yeah. Rings me up, says "Lewie we gotta hit our old haunt off Soi Diana", the bar we used to crawl into for days back when our wallets were plumper. Ain’t been there in ages now, so I reckoned why not, bit of draft beer, bit of banter, maybe see a few familiar lasses.

 

We rock up, barely park our arses before Rupert’s already got two tarts hangin’ off him like a pair of wedding ornaments, buyin’ them lady drinks like it's all free. Bell’s ringin’, music’s blarin’, and I’m left standin’ there holding me bell-end like the quiet one, talkin’ with the mamasan, catchin’ up on the happenings.

 

Then I spot somethin’ different. One of the girls ain’t quite what she seems, tall, bit of an Adam’s apple, feet bigger than mine, veiny hands, voice like she’s swallowed a harmonica. Ladyboy, clear as day once you clock it. So I leans over, yeah, casual like, and I ask the mamasan what’s the story morning glory. Thought it was a girly bar, not a mixed sausage buffet?

 

She just cackles like I’ve asked why water’s wet. Tells me that ladyboy’s the most popular unit they’ve got, gets taken in the back room for ST more than any of the girls. I nearly snorted me beer right across the table. Couldn’t wrap me gob around it at first.

 

Then she lays it out. Says there’s blokes who want a ladyboy but haven’t got the bullocks to flop into a ladyboy bar for one. So they come here, where the front of house is all girls, then quietly slip round back with the ladyboy under everyone’s noses. Perfect cover. No one the wiser. Bit of face saved, bar makes bank. Everyone’s chuffed to bits.

 

Sat there watchin’ Rupert get his ears nibbled by a pair of twenty-year-olds while I’m havin’ me mind blown about secret ladyboy action in what I thought was a straight-up bearded-clam bar. 

 

Place never stops teachin’ you new tricks, I swear lads. Even a bar full of pretty girls can turn out to be the perfect spot for blokes sneakin’ away for a round of peekaboo with a secret set of danglies.

Lewie, swallowed only one harmonica?  Did she look like Lak, your rugby player built like masseuse? 

On 7/3/2025 at 2:12 PM, Lewie London said:

So me old mate Rupert’s blown back into town last night like a wrecking ball, yeah. Rings me up, says "Lewie we gotta hit our old haunt off Soi Diana", the bar we used to crawl into for days back when our wallets were plumper. Ain’t been there in ages now, so I reckoned why not, bit of draft beer, bit of banter, maybe see a few familiar lasses.

 

We rock up, barely park our arses before Rupert’s already got two tarts hangin’ off him like a pair of wedding ornaments, buyin’ them lady drinks like it's all free. Bell’s ringin’, music’s blarin’, and I’m left standin’ there holding me bell-end like the quiet one, talkin’ with the mamasan, catchin’ up on the happenings.

 

Then I spot somethin’ different. One of the girls ain’t quite what she seems, tall, bit of an Adam’s apple, feet bigger than mine, veiny hands, voice like she’s swallowed a harmonica. Ladyboy, clear as day once you clock it. So I leans over, yeah, casual like, and I ask the mamasan what’s the story morning glory. Thought it was a girly bar, not a mixed sausage buffet?

 

She just cackles like I’ve asked why water’s wet. Tells me that ladyboy’s the most popular unit they’ve got, gets taken in the back room for ST more than any of the girls. I nearly snorted me beer right across the table. Couldn’t wrap me gob around it at first.

 

Then she lays it out. Says there’s blokes who want a ladyboy but haven’t got the bullocks to flop into a ladyboy bar for one. So they come here, where the front of house is all girls, then quietly slip round back with the ladyboy under everyone’s noses. Perfect cover. No one the wiser. Bit of face saved, bar makes bank. Everyone’s chuffed to bits.

 

Sat there watchin’ Rupert get his ears nibbled by a pair of twenty-year-olds while I’m havin’ me mind blown about secret ladyboy action in what I thought was a straight-up bearded-clam bar. 

 

Place never stops teachin’ you new tricks, I swear lads. Even a bar full of pretty girls can turn out to be the perfect spot for blokes sneakin’ away for a round of peekaboo with a secret set of danglies.

Got to say you write a good story had me laughing out loud maybe you should start writing a collection of short stories and sell them on Amazon 

On 7/3/2025 at 6:00 PM, Jeff the Chef said:

Lewie,

 

You got balls on your chest, what have you got?

"
"
"
"

Chestnuts

 

You got balls on a wall, what have you got?

"

"~
"

"

Walnuts

 

You got balls on your chin, what have you got?

"
"
"
"
"
A mouth full of cock

That joke is somewhat dated, need to update material

I think the OP must be running out of material if he is recycling 20 year old stories.

I suspect someone posted this under the influence because he could made the same point in one paragraph instead of rambling on and on and on.  Get some sleep mate!