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Near Fatal Attraction


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Blimey, I really don't know whay all this is causing such a fuss.

As Thomas Merton rightly said to me in a PM...

...you win some, you loose some; sometimes you write well, sometimes crap; some love what you write, others are bored by it; some will be almost sycophantic with their praise, others will criticise. You have just got to keep on writing...

I could try bring a little more thick skinned, OR my detractors and flamers could in future aviod posts started by members they think are a waste of space, such as myself, then those who do enjoy reading anything good I have to offer can get on with it.

Edited by The Gentleman Scamp
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If there is any testament to the Scamps stories, it's that I dont want this thread closed for flaming before I hear part 2 of the tale. :o

Better bring the thread back on topic then... let the flame wars cease.

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Ok, if you click on "my controls" you will find all the links you need to click to put someone on your ignore list. You will then cease to see their posts, or recieve their PM's.

That said, I'm moving this down to the pub (It needs some livening up). Scampy, a little shorter next time please, I'm lazy and have too short an attention span for the long ones. :D

And get that look off your face, it doesn't mean you can write naughty things at the end of a long post... Darknight reads from the bottom, up. :o

cv

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It was a busy night, there were many people to watch and my work mate Jon was trying to fix me up with his girlfriend's best mate, but I was happy to be a gooseberry and out of the clot - I hadn't come here to be conversational ballast, neither had I come here to shag girls or fill my mobile with numbers of girls I who would never call and would later inevitably forget who they were or where I'd met them but would never delete the number just in case they had been a potentially important contact but would still never call anyway because the likelihood was that it was just some dizzy strumpet I had once made smalltalk with prior to staggering around in my beer goggles and wobbly boots, trying to find a taxi driver who would take me home without attempting conversation

Scamp - I gave up after the above sentence. Punctuation is free you know.

I see that you are an aspiring writer, so excuse me if I critique this from a readers perspective (I am no writer)

There's just too much going on in your sentences - so it doesn't flow well - more is not always better. You have some good ideas in there - "conversational ballast" is good. If you are going to rely on entertaining us with witty word-plays like this, then you'll need to reduce the quantity a little.

I'd advice getting into P J O'Rourke and Bill Brysons books - they are experts in this field.

Edited by pedro01
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This is something that happened at the beginning of this year and a story I have not felt ready to share on TV until now nor previously had the time.

The poor boyfriend of this agonisingly desirable and highly dangerous maneater could well be a member of this forum so beware those of you who have abnormally attractive girlfriends but are based overseas and pay for their lifestyle back here.

mys-tique

n.

1. An aura of heightened value, interest, or meaning surrounding something, arising from attitudes and beliefs that impute special power or mystery to it: the cowboy mystique; the mystique of existentialism.

2. A Bangkok nightclub for the trendy and wealthy, those who think they are tredy and wealthy, and those who would like to be.

It was a January Thursday, I had hit the town with a couple of colleagues about 1am after a prosaic day at work and Pu, the lovely but useless escort girl that I had been seeing on and off for the past month, was out with a client and so as my shift had ended - hers had just begun. She was a nice enough girl on the wrong path but she wasn't quite what I needed from a woman at this point in my life and we had been hovering in that grey area between lovers and good friends.

It was a busy night, there were many people to watch and my work mate Jon was trying to fix me up with his girlfriend's best mate, but I was happy to be a gooseberry and out of the clot - I hadn't come here to be conversational ballast, neither had I come here to shag girls or fill my mobile with numbers of girls I who would never call and would later inevitably forget who they were or where I'd met them but would never delete the number just in case they had been a potentially important contact but would still never call anyway because the likelihood was that it was just some dizzy strumpet I had once made smalltalk with prior to staggering around in my beer goggles and wobbly boots, trying to find a taxi driver who would take me home without attempting conversation.

I wasn't sure what I wanted but I knew only a female human being could deliver it and I had just come along to roll my dice and hope for a six, as I had been single for too long and there was a gaping hole in my life which was only highlighted by the smitten look in Jon's eyes as he danced playfully with his new found love.

It wasn't fair... I wanted one... Not her giggly friend, not some unseasoned dippy nymphet who would like me simply because I was a nice bloke and send me tiresomely soppy, insipid text messages every day in the fluffy, pink and pathetic belief she was in love, I wanted a woman - somebody mature with a little life experience and wisdom, somebody special who would love me for why and who I am not what I am; somebody who I would get along with like a house on fire and grow on me like the Scissor Sisters Cd, somebody intelligent who I'd instantly respect but who'd ignite the turbines nonetheless and who's number I could get at the end of the night and get to know them properly, gradually going on dates after establishing a friendship and taking things slowly at the beginning, relishing every like minded glance and flirt... Somebody I would soon after be having romantic pillow fights with on Sunday mornings and go rice cooker shopping with at Tesco's... Somebody strong minded and robust but with a vulnerable core who would phone me first when her grandfather had passed away and I would take the rest of the day off work to go and comfort her, somebody who didn't necessarily like all the same movies as me but would share my view that Adam Sandler was an overpaid talentless tosser, and she would be somebody who would acknowledge that I liked mature English cheddar cheese in my scrambled eggs, bring me breakfast in bed when I deserved it and leave the washing up piling up because she couldn't wait to get back under the duvet for a snuggle, so we'd end up having no clean plates for the pizza we had ordered for our allocated DVD night and so we'd share the washing up duties with me drying and her washing and we'd kiss and joke and flick water at each other until it turned into a tickle fight in which we'd both end up on the kitchen floor about to make love, when the man from Perfect Pizza would ring the doorbell of our modest but charming downtown apartment which I could afford because she had helped me find, at long last, a well paid job I enjoyed and which utilized my skills.

Anyway, I wasn't expecting to find it on this particular night and I had been expecting it to be a disappointing, rubbish night because when one has high expectations preceeding a night out, more often than not, one ends up disappointed, but I subconsciously knew that by having this negative attitude it could well turn out to be the opposite... However, because I was subconciously aware of this urban myth, it gave me a glimmer of hope and would therefore, probably turn out to be a rubbish and disappointing night after all.

So I made my way through the crowd of conceited 'in crowd' types, Dj's and models and didn't recieve much eye contact, as many a lone man in a western discotheque will have experienced when making their way through the crowd to get to the bar and naturally, eye contact is briefly made with a good looking woman, only for her to swiftly turn away and focus on her shoes or the friend she was talking to, making it perfectly clear that she was just checking out the cool people and that she was not on the lookout for single, avarage looking nice blokes to come and chat her up.

I was almost at the bar when I saw in the darkness the sillhouette of a slinky young Thai woman dancing in a provocative maner with a handsome young man who was transfixed by her. She was smoothly feeding off the attention the attention and he was looking very pleased with himself having claimed tonights star prize... Possibly Asia's star prize I would later think when I'd had a closer look in my pheripheral vision as I returned to my spot with a small Heiniken I'd paid London nightclub price for.

Between the first swig and the last, I had relaxed into the mood a little more and was ready for another. It was on this second visit to the bar I had seen her dancing alone and had made the bold desicion to walk past her and say something; so I did, ditching my nerves and saying "Hello" in a way which didn't come out quite as planned and made me sound like Leslie Phillips.

I can't quite remember how our conversation transpired from there but I asked where her boyfriend was and why she was alone and she explained that he was just one of many men she was playing with and she was just having a good time. A girl like this must be sick of being lusted after and gorped at and I didn't want her to think I was the same as all the others, which I am not - I'm The Gentleman Scamp, I'm a one off, I just had to get to know this angel and I wanted to sit down and talk but she seemed to be more interested in playing the same game with me she was doing with every other besotted, red blooded male who had ever laid eyes on her.

When you have longed for a soulmate for as long as I have, and faced with a girl as stunning as she was, you develop this romantic naivety that everybody is good inside and is just waiting to be rescued and loved for who they are so that the good can emerge and love can blossom. It's a rose tinted malady that usually affects the lonely the overworked and the promiscuous people of this world that always go the wrong way about finding what they want, aching desperatly on the inside and becoming more seemingly buoyant on the outside.

I shouted over the noise that I wasn't surprised that every man wanted to conquer her but told her outright that I had no interest in doing so but that it would be nice to get her number at the end of the night and perhaps a peck on the cheek which in itself would have been an honour, not that I told her, she was obviously very aware of her power and I didn't want it to go to her head any further on my account.

She hadn't heard this one before... She sat down and I ordered us both a drink - I doubt she'd ever had to pay for a drink in her entire life. I couldn't remember ever sitting and talking to anyone quite this desirable, and I'd met quite a few stunning ladies in my life, both in England and Thailand, but this was something else... She was too good looking and I almost disliked her because of it, as it seemed to overpower any other qualities she may have.

She wasn't your conventional, classic Asian hair-down-to-her-arse model type with almond skin and legs up to her shoulders with that awful air of high so, western priggishness which you find with many Thai models, she was something I hadn't seen before, and she knew it too. She wasn't tall and lanky like most models and she had bigger breasts, yet was too petite to be a platinum ladyboy yet too perfectly formed and skinned to be an off duty bargirl. Her hands and feet so were so exquisite it was as if they had been hand crafted by specialists and shipped to an assembly room where they had been fitted to her legs and arms... Walt Disney had created her nose, her big brown eyes and those amazing eyelashes, the most beautiful natural eyelashes I had ever seen, and Italian designers Pininfarina had collaberated with Madame Tussauds to make her almost 'V' shaped jaw. Together they had created the perfect being... An agonizingly desirable female with flawless skin, and a unique wide smile full of toothpaste model teeth. A monster... Maybe she was a robot, but I had my doubts as she smelled too good.

She grew more attractive with every second, and it was not down to the Heiniken. Men were beginning to look at us and ponder their next move, something she was used to - I was later to learn that even the owner of Mystique had been trying for months to seduce this girl but to no avail.

Looking around as she danced, it was clear that many of these drooling men would be having sex wth their eyes closed tonight, and those that were single would be doing the tissue industry proud and I would probably be one of them. The onlookers were probably wondering what she was doing dancing with me and not them, for they were athletic, well proportioned adonises and I was a slim, avarage looking bloke with a big nose who scrubbed up ok with a lot of effort. Surely I was just another tool for her to tease with, a woman like this could never love me... I bite my nails and I bounce when I walk... I don't last more than one session at a gymnasium and I do most of my clothes shopping at Tesco Lotus, and yet this object of obsession was placing my arms around her waist and bumping and grinding against me.

Later on, about half an hour after introducing her to Jon and co and basking in their envy and astonishment, she finished her drink and then disappeared, leaving me convinced I had been conned, but for the short time with her it had been worth a 200bht whisky and soda so I didn't mind, but just as I got up she suddenly re-appeared out of nowhere and hooked her handbag on my hand explaining she'd return in a moment.

The following morning I awoke in her bed and watched her sleeping, wondering how the ###### this actually happened, wondering anything so agonizingly attractive could ever have a normal life and realising I could never have a girlfriend like this as it would be a living nightmare... It would be like living in Phenom Phen and going out every day wearing a suit made from $100 bills.

Just a few hours earlier I had been living the dream that many men who have laid eyes on her will have had. I was having the best time since sliced bread. I had been having the ultimate fantasy roll in the hay - only it was a nice big bed in a nice big apartment, though I was soon to discover it wasn't hers.

To be continued - that's enough typing for one session.

What a load of tripe !!!!!wake me up when finished!!!

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There's just too much going on in your sentences - so it doesn't flow well - more is not always better. You have some good ideas in there - "conversational ballast" is good. If you are going to rely on entertaining us with witty word-plays like this, then you'll need to reduce the quantity a little.

Constructive criticism such as this is more than welcome.

Next flamer gets a holiday...

Cheers Wolfie, the one's who quote the whole text just to make a one liner are a waste of space - literally a waste of space.

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IMHO

I couldn't really get an image of her in my mind, but the feeling that she's a great catch works. I think most ppl would just imagine what their great catch would look like, so you should try and work off that somehow. I think the refernce to not being a snobby model type works, but when you say ladyboy and bg it kinda envokes other feelings that sour the description. You started with model, took away the bad traits, no need to compare to lower classes of girls just mention her waiste, hips and well cared for refined skin.

Anyhow, your story reminds me of a pleasant experience I had at the Shangr-La Hotel in Jakarta. It felt like I was on a stage, with everyone looking at me waiting for me to make a mistake, waiting to see her loose interest in me. Single men, guys standing right next to their girls, looking at her with such hunger in their eyes. Girls looking at me hoping I would keep her away from whatever victim they had their claws in. Some guys even looked at me with a joyful smile, maybe congratulating me, or perhaps I had such a euphoric look on my face that they couldn't help but smile.

Her friends ended up sitting with some guys they new across the room and my heart dropped and I was shot back to reality as she left to go hang out with them. I'd glance over and see guys approach her, I'd look at her response hoping she didn't look at them the same way she looked at me earlier. I soon decided to stop torturing myself and look at the band, then I thought I should find another girl, but no, she was the catch, I'd rather leave alone than to leave with another girl.

Suddenly I felt a hand slide across my shoulder and gently grip my neck as she floated into my lap. I couldn't help but feel defenseless as she glazed into my eyes, studying my expression. She asked if I was okay, I manged to form a slight smirk as I said "I'm Okay" she merely responded "good, let's dance". I suddenly realized that music was playing and that I was in the spotlight again. But I didn't care I was with the catch and felt like she would protect me.

I remember walking her to my room, wondering how much it would cost, it was free and she didn't confide in me till the next morning. But the thought seems to tarnish the memory and I've learned not to worry about such things. She too was being provided for by somone in a far off place and I was the lucky soul to releive her loneliness.

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Many of you seem to forget that it is TGS"s RIGHT to post whtaever he likes in these forums. (Proiding it is not defamatory to The King and Queen. If you do not want to read them then dont. I just want to read what he has to say, not all the drivvel that goes on in between. Some of you Posters should be ashamesd of yourselves, live and let live and if you wanna post then post something worth reading.

Mods: This is not flaming-is it? Or its the funny farm for me!!!

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Anyhow, your story reminds me of a pleasant experience I had at the Shangr-La Hotel in Jakarta

You're referring to BATS - the hi class crumpet joint.

There's a large painting of me on the wall behind the restaurant bar there- I have a parrot on my shoulder.

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- that's enough typing for one session.

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-thetic.

Teenagers should not be allowed to inhabit the bodies of adults.  There should be a mandatory "Grow-Up Or Be Neutered" deadline at the age of 30.  After that, such behaviors and attitudes are just sad.  Truly, truly sad.

:o:D :D

Should I link back to that post you made a while back when you were near-orgasm excited about all the college pranks you used to pull?

...

Bugger it, here it is :D

Bring on part 2...

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It was a January Thursday,

<KIND SNIP>

To be continued - that's enough typing for one session.

I take it you have read of Martin Luther King? You were clearly too young to be apprised of his assassination when it happened.

He also had a dream.

However, his was not as wet as yours, it would appear.

Did you go to bed one night with a problem on your mind and then awake with a solution on your stomach?

Your disjointed ramble was irritating at best from the start as it was painful to read, purely from the construction (or lack of it). The content was worse.

As I struggled on, all soon became clear as I surmised you may have been listening to your Dad’s ‘Crime of the Century’ album.

Was your imaginary conquest known as ‘Supertramp’, perchance?

Fiction or fantasy aside as it was clearly not fact, before you try and write any more (please do not...) get a basic grasp of punctuation and sentence construction.

Your misuse of the colon, semi-colon and ellipsis was almost as infuriating as sentences exceeding 200 words in length that only ceased when you hit the full stop key, probably by mistake.

Also, please discover the merits of a spell-check facility.

If you really fancy yourself as becoming a writer, please reconsider as it will all end in tears if your first effort is anything to go by. I refer to those running down your cheeks in addition to the inevitable contents of your waste bin.

You obviously thought your missive would be well received?

If that was the case, why did you have such a low opinion of the intelligence of the members here?

Full marks for trying, but I would call it a day now. :o

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It was a January Thursday,

<KIND SNIP>

To be continued - that's enough typing for one session.

I take it you have read of Martin Luther King? You were clearly too young to be apprised of his assassination when it happened.

He also had a dream.

However, his was not as wet as yours, it would appear.

Did you go to bed one night with a problem on your mind and then awake with a solution on your stomach?

Your disjointed ramble was irritating at best from the start as it was painful to read, purely from the construction (or lack of it). The content was worse.

As I struggled on, all soon became clear as I surmised you may have been listening to your Dad’s ‘Crime of the Century’ album.

Was your imaginary conquest known as ‘Supertramp’, perchance?

Fiction or fantasy aside as it was clearly not fact, before you try and write any more (please do not...) get a basic grasp of punctuation and sentence construction.

Your misuse of the colon, semi-colon and ellipsis was almost as infuriating as sentences exceeding 200 words in length that only ceased when you hit the full stop key, probably by mistake.

Also, please discover the merits of a spell-check facility.

If you really fancy yourself as becoming a writer, please reconsider as it will all end in tears if your first effort is anything to go by. I refer to those running down your cheeks in addition to the inevitable contents of your waste bin.

You obviously thought your missive would be well received?

If that was the case, why did you have such a low opinion of the intelligence of the members here?

Full marks for trying, but I would call it a day now. :o

Who's this guy??? :D

Phil Clark, this is not a submitted transcript to be vetted by the members of this forum before I pack my briefcase and head off to Asia books to ask for a career - this is just an ambitiously written topic.

Yes I do a bit of writing for a couple of expat magazines but only short articles for pocket money, this is merely a post, albeit a more creative one than usual.

Writing is a hobby and ThaiVisa is a hobby.

The two have merged, so just take it for what it is for the time being - your criticism is valid and I shall read it again should I ever wish to write a book of short stories about my experiences away from home.

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Hey, I liked it. :o (But then again I've always been fond of really really long novels. A real bookworm, is me :D)

Try not looking at it as a grammar teacher :D but appreciating the unique style here. Think poetry or art.. you don't go to a gallery criticizing a painting for not using "proper painting techniques" do you?

Waiting for more, Scampy :D

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Well at least scamp stirs up some emotions :o which is sure a Pro when you want to be a writer :D

Mein Kampf certainly worked, as did The Perfumed Garden. Not quite in the same league as 'scamp' though... :D

A guy by the same name worked for me in the UK, judging by his posts it would not surprise me if he was the same' no time for nothin loser"

"Still trying to make a megre living off my back Clarky?"

best wishes and all that

TP

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Well at least scamp stirs up some emotions :o which is sure a Pro when you want to be a writer :D

Mein Kampf certainly worked, as did The Perfumed Garden. Not quite in the same league as 'scamp' though... :D

A guy by the same name worked for me in the UK, judging by his posts it would not surprise me if he was the same' no time for nothin loser"

"Still trying to make a megre living off my back Clarky?"

best wishes and all that

TP

Now there's a plot that thickens. :D

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Hey, I liked it. :o (But then again I've always been fond of really really long novels. A real bookworm, is me :D)

Try not looking at it as a grammar teacher :D  but appreciating the unique style here. Think poetry or art.. you don't go to a gallery criticizing a painting for not using "proper painting techniques" do you?

Waiting for more, Scampy :D

actually, punctuation in the written word is just as important as the timing notations on written music. It shows you how the sentenceshould flow. Without it - you have to read the 200+ word sentences a few times to realise where the pauses are.

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It was a January Thursday,

<KIND SNIP>

To be continued - that's enough typing for one session.

Your misuse of the colon, semi-colon and ellipsis was almost as infuriating as sentences exceeding 200 words in length that only ceased when you hit the full stop key, probably by mistake.

Now that's a great line. :o

C'mon Scamp fill us in with the rest of the story, don't chicken out man. I believe Orwell wrote a whole book without a semi colon once. :D

Edited by bkkmadness
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