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I Came for a Beer, Not Your Bleedin’ Life's Proper Grim Story!

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  • Popular Post

Right then, picture the scene lads. I’m sittin’ in me Buakhao local yesterday, nice corner stool, ice cold Leo in me hand, just enjoyin’ a bit of peace and quiet after a day of scorchin’ heat, swamp arse, and baht-bus fumes. Not a care in the world, just me, the beer goin' in me gob, and a bit of ceiling-fan therapy. 

 

Then along comes this geezer, proper sweaty mess, eyes like a kicked puppy. I first clocked him as an Aussie, but nah, wasn't. Lad was from The Old Country. Suddenly the bloke just plonks himself right next to me like I'm his long-lost aunt.

 

Next thing I know, he’s chewin’ me ear off like a starvin' rat on a block of cheddar. Bangin’ on about how he's retired RAF and how the bloody British Embassy’s just ruined his life.
 

I’m sittin’ there noddin’ politely, thinkin’ maybe they’ve lost his passport renewal application or somethin’ normal. Nah. Turns out the tragedy of his life is that he went marchin’ in there with his Thai concubine, ready to sign the visa guarantee papers and jet off to the land of Greggs and drizzle together… only to have his plans dashed when the visa officer asks him all polite-like if he reckons he's gonna be applyin’ for a same-sex marriage visa. 

 

I nearly spat me beer out. Poor sod was gobsmacked, says it hit him like a double-decker bus with no brakes. All this time thinkin’ he was romancin’ a lady, turns out he was balls-deep in a post-op unit and never clocked it. Now he’s sittin’ there wailin’ into his pint, heartbroken, moanin’ on about broken dreams, scams, and false hopes, like I’m gonna whip out me violin and play him a sad little tune, FFS.

 

And then came the kicker, lads. Right in the middle of his oversized meltdown he leans in, dead serious, like we’re havin’ some big philosophical debate, and asks me, “Lewie mate… be straight with me, yeah, does this make me gay then?” Like I’m fekkin bloody Professor Freud sittin’ there with a pint instead of a pipe in me hand. Right, I just stared at him, wonderin’ how I’d gone from enjoyin’ me quiet beer to bein’ dragged into a full-blown existential identity crisis.

 

Meanwhile, I’m half smilin' like a bloke who gives a toss when all I really want is five minutes of peace to watch me footy on the telly without bein’ dragged into someone’s love-loss hormone disaster. Look mate, we aren't besties, and I came for a cold one, not a front-row seat to your gender discovery meltdown.

 

That’s Pattaya for ya though. One minute you’re mindin’ your own, next minute you’re a therapist for some geezer who only found out what was under the hood after he'd already took it for a spin around the block and back 100 times.

  • Replies 97
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  • newbee2022
    newbee2022

    Thanks a lot. Have me the perfect start for the day. You are a blessed short story writer and hopefully we'll hear more of you ❤️

  • All fake. Not even funny.

  • short-Timer
    short-Timer

    I can't think of anything more boring in this world than the thought of another post from you.

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  • Popular Post

Best laugh for a long while. 

  • Popular Post

I thought across the pond referred to someone from the USA. Why would the British embassy be involved. 

Proof read your made up stories Rooster.

  • Popular Post
54 minutes ago, emptypockets said:

I thought across the pond referred to someone from the USA. Why would the British embassy be involved. 

Proof read your made up stories Rooster.

AI is not always accurate. 

  • Popular Post
1 hour ago, Lewie London said:

Right then, picture the scene lads. I’m sittin’ in me Buakhao local yesterday, nice corner stool, ice cold Leo in me hand, just enjoyin’ a bit of peace and quiet after a day of scorchin’ heat, swamp arse, and baht-bus fumes. Not a care in the world, just me, the beer goin' in me gob, and a bit of ceiling-fan therapy. 

 

Then along comes this geezer, proper sweaty mess, eyes like a kicked puppy. I first clocked him as an Aussie, but nah, wasn't. Lad was from The Old Country. Suddenly the bloke just plonks himself right next to me like I'm his long-lost aunt.

 

Next thing I know, he’s chewin’ me ear off like a starvin' rat on a block of cheddar. Bangin’ on about how he's retired RAF and how the bloody British Embassy’s just ruined his life.
 

I’m sittin’ there noddin’ politely, thinkin’ maybe they’ve lost his passport renewal application or somethin’ normal. Nah. Turns out the tragedy of his life is that he went marchin’ in there with his Thai concubine, ready to sign the visa guarantee papers and jet off to the land of Greggs and drizzle together… only to have his plans dashed when the visa officer asks him all polite-like if he reckons he's gonna be applyin’ for a same-sex marriage visa. 

 

I nearly spat me beer out. Poor sod was gobsmacked, says it hit him like a double-decker bus with no brakes. All this time thinkin’ he was romancin’ a lady, turns out he was balls-deep in a post-op unit and never clocked it. Now he’s sittin’ there wailin’ into his pint, heartbroken, moanin’ on about broken dreams, scams, and false hopes, like I’m gonna whip out me violin and play him a sad little tune, FFS.

 

And then came the kicker, lads. Right in the middle of his oversized meltdown he leans in, dead serious, like we’re havin’ some big philosophical debate, and asks me, “Lewie mate… be straight with me, yeah, does this make me gay then?” Like I’m fekkin bloody Professor Freud sittin’ there with a pint instead of a pipe in me hand. Right, I just stared at him, wonderin’ how I’d gone from enjoyin’ me quiet beer to bein’ dragged into a full-blown existential identity crisis.

 

Meanwhile, I’m half smilin' like a bloke who gives a toss when all I really want is five minutes of peace to watch me footy on the telly without bein’ dragged into someone’s love-loss hormone disaster. Look mate, we aren't besties, and I came for a cold one, not a front-row seat to your gender discovery meltdown.

 

That’s Pattaya for ya though. One minute you’re mindin’ your own, next minute you’re a therapist for some geezer who only found out what was under the hood after he'd already took it for a spin around the block and back 100 times.

Thanks a lot. Have me the perfect start for the day.

You are a blessed short story writer and hopefully we'll hear more of you ❤️

1 hour ago, emptypockets said:

I thought across the pond referred to someone from the USA. Why would the British embassy be involved. 

Proof read your made up stories Rooster.

See it's now changed to the Old Country

  • Popular Post
31 minutes ago, emptypockets said:

See it's now changed to the Old Country


Seems like you could be hallucinating and then responding to your own posts. Are you a big drinker?

  • Popular Post

Lewie, please. It is p!ssing rain all over Thailand, even the frogs are drowning.

 

Scorching heat? I am reaching for a jacket. I have put my socks on for breakfast.

 

If you want your stories to have verisimilitude, pay attention to the current climatic conditions. It's the monsoon season.

3 hours ago, Lewie London said:

Right then, picture the scene lads. I’m sittin’ in me Buakhao local yesterday, nice corner stool, ice cold Leo in me hand, just enjoyin’ a bit of peace and quiet after a day of scorchin’ heat, swamp arse, and baht-bus fumes. Not a care in the world, just me, the beer goin' in me gob, and a bit of ceiling-fan therapy. 

 

Then along comes this geezer, proper sweaty mess, eyes like a kicked puppy. I first clocked him as an Aussie, but nah, wasn't. Lad was from The Old Country. Suddenly the bloke just plonks himself right next to me like I'm his long-lost aunt.

 

Next thing I know, he’s chewin’ me ear off like a starvin' rat on a block of cheddar. Bangin’ on about how he's retired RAF and how the bloody British Embassy’s just ruined his life.
 

I’m sittin’ there noddin’ politely, thinkin’ maybe they’ve lost his passport renewal application or somethin’ normal. Nah. Turns out the tragedy of his life is that he went marchin’ in there with his Thai concubine, ready to sign the visa guarantee papers and jet off to the land of Greggs and drizzle together… only to have his plans dashed when the visa officer asks him all polite-like if he reckons he's gonna be applyin’ for a same-sex marriage visa. 

 

I nearly spat me beer out. Poor sod was gobsmacked, says it hit him like a double-decker bus with no brakes. All this time thinkin’ he was romancin’ a lady, turns out he was balls-deep in a post-op unit and never clocked it. Now he’s sittin’ there wailin’ into his pint, heartbroken, moanin’ on about broken dreams, scams, and false hopes, like I’m gonna whip out me violin and play him a sad little tune, FFS.

 

And then came the kicker, lads. Right in the middle of his oversized meltdown he leans in, dead serious, like we’re havin’ some big philosophical debate, and asks me, “Lewie mate… be straight with me, yeah, does this make me gay then?” Like I’m fekkin bloody Professor Freud sittin’ there with a pint instead of a pipe in me hand. Right, I just stared at him, wonderin’ how I’d gone from enjoyin’ me quiet beer to bein’ dragged into a full-blown existential identity crisis.

 

Meanwhile, I’m half smilin' like a bloke who gives a toss when all I really want is five minutes of peace to watch me footy on the telly without bein’ dragged into someone’s love-loss hormone disaster. Look mate, we aren't besties, and I came for a cold one, not a front-row seat to your gender discovery meltdown.

 

That’s Pattaya for ya though. One minute you’re mindin’ your own, next minute you’re a therapist for some geezer who only found out what was under the hood after he'd already took it for a spin around the block and back 100 times.

Should have charged him a psychiatrist's fee.   

Just now, MarkBR said:

Should have charged him a psychiatrist's fee.   

Could have paid for dinner & another beer.

Proper story. Very proper. I didn't proper read it, but am proper sure it's the properiest story around. Why do the English overuse the word 'proper'? Like Australians that can't utter a single sentence without slipping the word 'f**k' in there somewhere? A little variety in your vocabulary makes it proper less boring. 

35 minutes ago, Lacessit said:

Lewie, please. It is p!ssing rain all over Thailand, even the frogs are drowning.

 

Scorching heat? I am reaching for a jacket. I have put my socks on for breakfast.

 

If you want your stories to have verisimilitude, pay attention to the current climatic conditions. It's the monsoon season.

All fake. Not even funny.

13 minutes ago, MarkBR said:

Should have charged him a psychiatrist's fee.   

Charge a made up person a fee?

  • Popular Post
4 minutes ago, ColeBOzbourne said:

Proper story. Very proper. I didn't proper read it, but am proper sure it's the properiest story around. Why do the English overuse the word 'proper'? Like Australians that can't utter a single sentence without slipping the word 'f**k' in there somewhere? A little variety in your vocabulary makes it proper less boring. 


You must be proper confused. The word proper appeared only once in the entire text. Why not go and do a proper count before moaning? 

2 minutes ago, hankypankee said:

You must be proper confused. The word proper appeared only once in the entire text. Why not go and do a proper count before moaning? 

I read the proper title, and that was proper enough for me. 

3 hours ago, Artisi said:

Best laugh for a long while. 

You must have a boring life

  • Popular Post
2 minutes ago, Harrisfan said:

You must have a boring life


I can't think of anything more boring in this world than the thought of another post from you.

3 hours ago, Lewie London said:

Right then, picture the scene lads. I’m sittin’ in me Buakhao local yesterday, nice corner stool, ice cold Leo in me hand, just enjoyin’ a bit of peace and quiet after a day of scorchin’ heat, swamp arse, and baht-bus fumes. Not a care in the world, just me, the beer goin' in me gob, and a bit of ceiling-fan therapy. 

 

Then along comes this geezer, proper sweaty mess, eyes like a kicked puppy. I first clocked him as an Aussie, but nah, wasn't. Lad was from The Old Country. Suddenly the bloke just plonks himself right next to me like I'm his long-lost aunt.

 

Next thing I know, he’s chewin’ me ear off like a starvin' rat on a block of cheddar. Bangin’ on about how he's retired RAF and how the bloody British Embassy’s just ruined his life.
 

I’m sittin’ there noddin’ politely, thinkin’ maybe they’ve lost his passport renewal application or somethin’ normal. Nah. Turns out the tragedy of his life is that he went marchin’ in there with his Thai concubine, ready to sign the visa guarantee papers and jet off to the land of Greggs and drizzle together… only to have his plans dashed when the visa officer asks him all polite-like if he reckons he's gonna be applyin’ for a same-sex marriage visa. 

 

I nearly spat me beer out. Poor sod was gobsmacked, says it hit him like a double-decker bus with no brakes. All this time thinkin’ he was romancin’ a lady, turns out he was balls-deep in a post-op unit and never clocked it. Now he’s sittin’ there wailin’ into his pint, heartbroken, moanin’ on about broken dreams, scams, and false hopes, like I’m gonna whip out me violin and play him a sad little tune, FFS.

 

And then came the kicker, lads. Right in the middle of his oversized meltdown he leans in, dead serious, like we’re havin’ some big philosophical debate, and asks me, “Lewie mate… be straight with me, yeah, does this make me gay then?” Like I’m fekkin bloody Professor Freud sittin’ there with a pint instead of a pipe in me hand. Right, I just stared at him, wonderin’ how I’d gone from enjoyin’ me quiet beer to bein’ dragged into a full-blown existential identity crisis.

 

Meanwhile, I’m half smilin' like a bloke who gives a toss when all I really want is five minutes of peace to watch me footy on the telly without bein’ dragged into someone’s love-loss hormone disaster. Look mate, we aren't besties, and I came for a cold one, not a front-row seat to your gender discovery meltdown.

 

That’s Pattaya for ya though. One minute you’re mindin’ your own, next minute you’re a therapist for some geezer who only found out what was under the hood after he'd already took it for a spin around the block and back 100 times.

What footy is on Tuesday? 

2 minutes ago, short-Timer said:


I can't think of anything more boring in this world than the thought of another post from you.

I can, and that more boring thing would be another post from you.

Just now, BritManToo said:

I can, and that more boring thing would be another post from you.

He reads 100% of my posts :cheesy:

  • Popular Post
Just now, Harrisfan said:

He reads 100% of my posts :cheesy:

Nobody is that bored and you don't know what percentage of your posts are read by who!

35 minutes ago, Harrisfan said:

All fake. Not even funny.

 

Of course it is and from a couple of others, just fishing for posts, who is behind it though and why.

1 hour ago, Lacessit said:

Lewie, please. It is p!ssing rain all over Thailand, even the frogs are drowning.

 

Scorching heat? I am reaching for a jacket. I have put my socks on for breakfast.

 

If you want your stories to have verisimilitude, pay attention to the current climatic conditions. It's the monsoon season.

Pattaya has had feck all rain in the past week, and its been fairly warm.

3 minutes ago, proton said:

 

Of course it is and from a couple of others, just fishing for posts, who is behind it though and why.

At least make it funny. The made up bargirl 10 drink story was better. A fog fart is better than this.

Lewie, same exact thing happened to me at the embassy when I tried to get a visa to take Susan back with me. 

44 minutes ago, Harrisfan said:

All fake. Not even funny.

Another one of Bobs multinicks ?

  • Popular Post
12 minutes ago, Harrisfan said:

At least make it funny. The made up bargirl 10 drink story was better. A fog fart is better than this.


Jealous and obsessed with Lewie. image.gif.4d73225af88df732fbc8d9636df70945.gif

Just now, short-Timer said:


Jealous and obsessed with Lewie. image.gif.4d73225af88df732fbc8d9636df70945.gif

True love

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