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Sex Tourists


DJ Pat

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Will usually have a faded Singha tanktop on

Will be accompanied by a girl / guy a third of his age

Will have a beer welded to his right hand

Will get the top teaching jobs because he's white

Can be seen gazing lecherously at uni girls and dreaming

Is red faced with liver spots

Will shamelessly grope his 'catch' in front of horrified patrons in a gogo bar

Will stay in a fleabag hotel down Nana

Will assume all other farang are like-minded

Will drape his bedraggled whore in tasteless gold

Will weep while clutching hands with said hoe on the day he returns to Walsall

Will proclaim that Bangkok stinks of sewage

Will be balding

And sweaty

And be wearing shorts with varacous veins

Will drunkenly joke with motorbike taxi drivers in awful Thai, and guffaw loudly and proudly

Will simulate sex fully clothed with a wrinkled mamasan to Blue's "All Rise"

Will have a go on the dancing pole

Will stare pevertedly and maybe proposition the hotel receptionist

Will browse Robinsons stinking of piss

Will bring his 'Knight in Shining Armour' attitude with him

Will promise to 'take the girl out of the bar'

Will possibly fit in an Isaan trip to Udon Thani and look like a <deleted>

Any I've missed?

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You missed;

Will never let go of the BG's hand even when walking single file between narrow walkways between stalls.

Will flick a toothpick around in his mouth looking all cocky cos he's been told he's a 'sexy man, same same movie star'.

Will sometimes dress in nice, clean white sports shirt and shorts while wearing grey/black socks and leather shoes.

Will only eat in restaurants with BG that serve Thai and Farang food.

Will take a BG for a night out . . . . to another bar.

Will probably not know where both ends of Sukhumvit leads to.

Will probably think nothing of 'ringing the bell', paying way over the odds for beer, being short changed, tipping taxi drivers...but get's pissed off when a street urchin holds out his hand for a couple of baht.

Will be staying in a hotel within walking distance of a bar area.

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Lifted from a good mates website:

Go-Go Bar Punters

There are in fact seven kinds of go-go bar punter. Firstly, there is the English teacher type who has been in Bangkok ‘naan laaw’ – a bloody long time. They are instantly recognizable by grubby white shirts, an unkempt mop of hair, and a glazed expression. They occupy the same barstool for hours on end, and if a girl sits with them – fine, and if a girl doesn’t sit with them – fine also.

They know most of the dancers by name in their own regular bar, and the girls will chat politely with them, but your hard-core go-go filly knows that this man does not buy lady drinks. The English teacher also knows which bar is having a free pig roast or anywhere where he can get a free scoff. In the extremely unlikely event of this man wanting to meet with one of the dancers, it’ll be a case of ‘meet me after work’ or ‘outside the petrol station on Soi Nana’. The expression bar fine is simply two dirty words. The teacher type is generally bored by the whole go-go scene, but lacks the energy or enthusiasm to seek out an alternative form of entertainment.

Next comes the wedged-up expat and for those not familiar with English slang, wedged up means ‘holding folding’ – earning a nice salary with a nice big international company. His shirts are generally whiter than those of the English teacher and his shoes are certainly made from part of an animal. This guy is a serious spender, and always has two or three dollies around him sipping idly on Bacardi Breezers. He very rarely takes a girl from the bar on account of having one camped out in his high rise-condo already. The last thing this guy does before making his weary way home is to check for lipstick stains on his collar. He’s been down that road before and it can be a painful lesson. He can probably show you the bruises if you ask nicely.

Third on the list comes what I call the serious punter who plans his evening like a military campaign. You can see him stretched out on the comfy sofas of many a go-go establishment, but come the 9pm shows, and time to blow out the candles on the birthday cake, he’s in the front row examining the merchandise. This guy drinks his beer sparingly and probably doesn’t smoke. The two hours he’ll spend in a bar are mere distraction because his prime objective is to get a girl back to his hotel room before 10pm and make a real night of it. He’s willing to pay bar-fines; he’s willing to pay what the girl asks – but he sure wants his money’s worth.

My own personal favorite is the Village idiot. So called, because he specializes in making bargirls laugh with his overgrown schoolboy antics. In fact as soon as his often ample frame appears in the doorway, there are usually whoops of delight from all the dancers.

Depending on the village idiot’s beer intake, he’s the guy who knows every single dance step of the Macarena, frequently does the ‘ramwong’ (north eastern Thai dance) in the smaller Soi Cowboy joints, and generally acts like a <deleted>. Further encouragement comes from the girls’ non-stop laughter, but I’ve never worked out whether it’s in enjoyment or sympathy. Needless to say, this man is a serious lady drink buyer.

Next in line is very much the saddest punter of all - The down-at-heel Joe. He has somehow found himself stranded in Thailand and miraculously survives from day to day with very little money in his pocket. Unable to hold down even a teaching job, he sits on his barstool with cheap clothes and a world-weary expression. The girls will talk to him for sure – they know his sob stories and they may lend a sympathetic ear, but as soon as a better prospect walks through the door, he’s left alone with just the bar-bill.

The Two week tourist is an interesting kettle of fish. He’s here for the full go-go bar experience. This guy is in the front seat for the midnight shower show, and come the end of the evening, he can’t make up his mind which girl to take….so he takes two. This guy can always be identified by his fake Benetton drawstring pants with the side-pockets (Benetton would actually never put their name to such a hideous garment), his Koh Samui T-shirt, and his Nike sandals. In short – dressed from head to toe in sidewalk <deleted>. Oh, and he always sips his drink from one of those polystyrene beer-coolers (which to me defies the object of drinking from a bottle)

Finally, The Handsome man. The gorgeous guy in his late 20’s with piercing blue eyes, razor sharp hair, and dressed to kill.

When this guy walks in a bar, the level of attention that you’ve been enjoying positively plummets. The girls are all over him like a cheap aftershave and hang on his every word as he proceeds to converse in the most appalling Thai imaginable…and 20 notches too loud. As all the girls clap their hands in unison and scream “phut Thai keng” (you speak Thai well), and shower him with misguided adoration, you sit there fuming and contemplate which bar you’ll go to next.

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Will proclaim that Bangkok stinks of sewage

Will be balding

And sweaty

Well there must be a h.e.l.l. of a lot of sex tourists because every single male visitor will be one of these 3. Who dosen't sweat in Thailand by the way?

Lighthearted my nob. You one of them who want the sex industry all to himself.

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there is one type missing from that list ,

its the wedged up expat with the falang wife.

the guy who will go to the bars with his mates on a friday or saturday (all of whom are unmarried and 10 years younger than him ) who procure themselves new totally up for it firm,outgoing, trim, fit, cinnamon girls every other day for the price of new shirt at m and s.

but who because of the pleasant enough but overweight (due to the two ungrateful kids at harrow international school ), not that desirable anymore, extremely watchful, just a little bit frumpy, (and wasn't that a bit of a moustache i noticed on her upper lip lately, and those legs are bit blotchy come to think of it ) home counties wife of 15 years that he brought with him on the 5 year package offered by his company back home, dare not even contemplate taking one of these lovelies out even for a brief encounter at one of the many short time hotels whose winking neon lights taunt him as he rides the taxi home.

his wife knows what goes on here and is just waiting for him to put a foot wrong, and she will get 50% of that fat salary,50% of the london home that they are renting out for a small fortune ,future earnings and pension too if what she read in last weeks telegraph is to be believed and she has told him in no uncertain terms too what to expect.

he sits there looking slightly wistful, reliving memories of his rugby club days,

trying not to listen to his mates as they take delight in regaling him in pornographic detail about the threesome bisexual girl orgies they indulge in on a regular basis.

poor fellow, should have stayed home with ubc and his phil collins cds.

he always seems to end up paying the drinks tab as well.

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