JOHNNY DRAMAS ****** ADVENTURES

GAMECHANGER



Part 2     Words Of Wisdom From State Of Maine


A day later State Of Maine comes across a very gloomy looking Johnny Drama in the Beergarden. He asks what's up and I explain to him the situation. He nods away and then says 'do you wanna know what I think?' I do. He says,'Johnny,this whole thing with Little Bit is not your problem. When you think about it the whole idea is ludicrous. Fact 1. She got arrested in Hua Hin. Were you in Hua Hin? No. She assaulted a dude. Did you tell her to assault a dude? No. She smoked or swallowed or whatever you do with yaa-baa. Did you tell her to do that? No. For fxcks sake Johnny Little Bit is a grown woman she makes her own decisions. This thing about her being upset that you went off with Tara is all bullshxt. As I recall you were with Poon at the time not Little Bit. Sure,we all know Little Bit had a big crush on you but what does that count?'  I stopped him there and said 'Little Bit had a big crush on me?? That's bollox!'  He replied,'Everyone could see that Johnny. How outrageous does a girl have to flirt with you before you notice?'   'I just thought she was trying to make her Mum angry. I never thought she was serious.'  'Well Johnny,what can I say? You're even dumber than I thought. The point is though,she is not your problem. Little Bit is a working girl. She's in business. Customers come and go. You weren't even a customer.'

I finish off a Chang and put down the glass and say,'this whole thing just makes me feel shxt. I look in the mirror and I just see a loser looking back at me.' State Of Maine nearly explodes a full beer out of his nose such is his INDIGNATION at this statement. 'I  tell you what Johnny if we weren't such good buddies I'd put one on the side of your head right now. Stop being such a ****. Loser? You gotta be kidding me. You know what a loser is Johnny? That's a guy working all of Gods hours to pay a mortgage and wear a suit and mow his lawns and take his talentless kids to soccer on a Saturday and pay hire purchase to own some godawful SUV and be told by his ugly old wife that she won't give ****s anymore because she's too tired from nagging him. That's a loser. I know I've been there. Here I do what I want when I want. You're the same Johnny. You've built quite a reputation for yourself since you been here Johnny. You got a lotta respect. People come to you for help. You're not a loser Johnny. Poon and Little Bit are in the past. They're a lot of fun. I've been with Little Bit myself and she is a firecracker but these are working girls Johnny. Their wellbeing is not your concern. They come and go. You treat them fair and respectfully and move on. That's what they do. That's what you do. It's sad that Little Bit is sick but it's not your fault. You've got your own life Johnny.'

He is right of course. I drink up and head home.

GAMECHANGER


Part 3.    Words Of Wisdom From Faa


A couple of days later I am summoned to a lunch date wit Faa at the Beergarden. While I am waiting for her arrival I pound a few Changs. When Faa arrives she looks at me in way that indicates she is not too happy. She says,'you didn't go to the gym today' to which I reply 'muscles need rest days so I'm not lifting today.' She replies,'I know that Johnny but you go the the gym seven days a week whether you lift or not. Also you haven't been for massage either.'  'For FXCKS sake are you following me around or something? What the fxck is going on around here? Jeez.' Faa is unfazed by my outburst and just looks at me for a while. Then she says,'I was talking to State Of Maine yesterday and he told me what he said to you. He also told me some things I didn't know.' Like what?  ' I didn't realise how close you and Poon and Little Bit really were. Especially you and Little Bit.'  I was indignant!! 'What did he say? I never fxcked Little Bit! I never even touched her! (Actually I did touch her but she was passed out drunk so that doesn't count. Also I've seen her naked loads of times but I thought it best not to mention that right now). Faa said.'I don't care about that Johnny. What I do care about is that you and Little Bit were friends. You were close,you lived with her. You should go and see her.' I said what good would that do. No. Sorry. I've moved on. I continued to pound Changs at an alarming rate!

Faa was silent for a while but she was looking at me and I could tell she had more to say. Finally she sat forward and said,'do you know why I hang out with you Johnny Drama?'  I said 'probably because I have the best body in Bangkok.' She said,'it's not bad but you could work on your calves.'  I roar WHAT and shoot my chair backwards and stick my head under the table to inspect these puny calves. Faa is laughing and says 'your calves are fine Johnny. What I'm saying to you is this. While ever I've been with you I've never known a week to go by when someone doesn't approach you to help them with some problem. You always say yes.'  I interrupt her and say,'you always try and talk me out of it.' She replies,'That's because I worry you're going to get hurt. But I like the way you try and help people. Most people in this town are just out for themselves. I like that about you.'  I say 'I just help my friends. It's no big deal. Anyway,sometimes I get paid.'  She says 'yeah.Sometimes. And some of these friends you only just met.'

I pound another Chang and look around me. I know Faa is looking at me but I avoid meeting her eyes. Eventually I have to look at her. She is a very beautiful woman. She puts two hands around my left hand and asks 'why are you still sitting here?'

GAMECHANGER



Part 4      Full Circle


I look at her and think Fxck it. She's right. I finish my beer and lean forward and kiss her cheek. Then I race off. First stop is a food stall selling soup. I try some. Fxcking hell it's chilli hot. Just the way a bargirl likes it. Then I get some supplies from 7-11 and I'm sorted.

I still have the key to Poon's and I use it to march straight in. Poon is nowhere to be seen so I go directly into Little Bit's bedroom. Once again I'm shaken by her appearance. She is unrecognisable from the feisty funny busty lusty angry proud sarcastic tempestuous loud giggly cute aggressive manic drunk adorable girl I used to know. I usually avoid sick people but this is different. I sit on the side of the bed and look down at her. Jesus Christ. She doesn't look at me. I reach down and gather her up in my arms and hold her. She weighs less than a child. I hold her tight but not too tight I hope. 'I've brought you some soup. Get it into you. I'll get you a doctor. A good one get you some good drugs. Sort you right out. Get you back in the gym in no time. I'll be here the whole time. I'll help. Don't worry. It's all sorted.'  I keep holding her. Then I feel something. Her skinny little arms are wrapped around me.

Then I remember something! 'Hang on a sec I gotta do something' and I lay her back down and race outside. Thank Fxck!! No one has stolen the four cartons of Chang I left out there! I carry them into the kitchen and start packing the fridge just as Poon emerges. She studies me with a cynical eye and says 'what the fxck are you doing Johnny?'  I say ' I'm packing the fridge Poon. It looks like I'm gonna be staying for a while.'  She considers that for a bit then breaks out into a braod grin. Then she says 'what's that thing you always used to say Johnny?' I dunno what are you talking about? She says 'you know,what was it?' Eh?

Then her face brightens up as it comes to her. 'I remember!' And she puts on her best London accent and roars out 'FXCKIN HELL JOHNNY DRAMA!!!'

sad situation ... well handled ... doing the right thing now Johnny for sure ... hope it works out ... for all ... hang in there

Nice

Little Bit



I've been asked at least a thousand times why Little Bit is called Little Bit so I imagine Little Bit has been asked about a million times. I've even asked her myself at least 20 times. Every farang man assumes it's something sexy without really knowing why.There's something about her name that makes a man wonder. Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact is that when Little Bit was a toddler and a little girl her favourite words was little bit or nit naawy in Thai. If her mum had some food then Little Bit would reach out and say nit naawy. At the time Poon had a western boyfriend who was not the biological father of Little Bit but was a kind of dad to her.He was quite taken by her habit of saying nit naawy but transalated it to English. Little Bit. Poon liked the sound of this and started calling her daughter Little Bit.It stuck. Today if you ask Poon what is Little Bit's original name she would have to really think before she answered. But the name stuck. Litte Bit. Little Bit. Little Bit.

awesome..tell us more..can people recover from serious yaaba abuse?
i really hope so.

come on Johnny..wots happening?

FFS I am almost getting worried.
hope all is good pal.

Jia Chang   Part 1

Recently Faa invited me to go to some high class function that she had to go to. Obviously I was not the least bit interested in attending but as is often the way with Faa she convinced me it was the right thing to do. I was however horrified when she said I had to get a suit. A suit! I haven't been in a suit since I was in the dock years ago.  Reluctantly I was dragged to an Indian tailor and measured and now I am the proud owner of a suit.

On the big night I arrived at the most stunning residence I've ever seen in BK with Faa on my arm and by the time I had a glass of champagne in my hand Faa had disappeared and left me to it. I adopted a nonchalant air,as though I was used to being in mansions on my own and decided to check out the art. I had no idea what I was looking at. A mix of Eastern and Western art. Fxcked if I know.A bloke approached me and said 'So. Who are you with?' I didn't know what to say. I could tell this geezer was some big financier or something.  So I just mumbled 'I'm an independant' and scurried off. I was thinking maybe I could kill some time by spending about a half hour on the bog. Maybe if I could find a sudoku? So I did. Then I wandered out in the backyard and found a couple of the most adorable Golden Retrievers I've ever come across. They were overjoyed to see me! I was patting them and wrestling them and carrying them and  saying stoopid things to them when I noticed there was another person in the backyard. A girl. A lady. A woman. I calmed the dogs down and went over to her.

Jia Chang     Part 2

As I approached her she turned around and took a swig of her drink and held it out to me and asked,'can you get me another? Red wine.' Sure. While getting the wine I had a chance to look back at her and check her out. Very nice. Long hair. Long legs high bum. Tits like Dreama Walker on Compliance.  When I returned with her wine I could tell she was the little the worse! She told me that she was a Chinese lady working in Bangkok who up till recently had been in a relationship with an Australian man. Apparently this Aussie had recently left her for a Thai bird. Jia was not too impressed with the Aussie's reason for dumping her. When Jia asked for an explanation the Aussie said,and I quote,'You're a DUD.'

I gotta say thats' pretty harsh. Jia took it bad that's for sure. But who knows? The Aussie might be right!! But then I got talking to Jia. Jia really gets to the point.'Only the biggest losers of white people would ever get involved  with Thai girls. They are desperate. They only want women they can dominate and control.' "Jeez I dunno about that Jia. I'm not sure it's all like that."  Jia is making me feel very uncomfortable. I get her another wine and make an escape.

A bit later on the owner of the gaff,a  jolly Yorkshireman  pulls me a pint and plonks it down in front of me before giving me the nod. Trouble. I turn around to see Jia Chang sitting next to me. Don't get me wrong,Jia is hot,but I can't be arsed listening to her moaning.  I don't have to wait long before she starts . 'You've been with Thai women havent you Johnny? I don't know why I even bother to ask. You are such a stereotype. With all your muscles. And your attitude. How did you even get invited to this Cultural Evening tonight?  Who cares? Let me ask you something. What is it Western men even see in these Thai sluts? You know they are like prehistoric humans? Have you ever seen their feet?? We call them Jungle Feet. How can western men go out with them?  I tell you right now Johnny if me or my friends ever see a white guy degrading themselves like that it's a total turn off' . Don't hold back Jia! !

I'm feeling very conflicted. Jia Chang is a most obnoxious woman. I don't think I've ever liked a woman less. The problem is,Jia Chang is sitting on my lap! And Jia Chang is VERY HOT! All that Hatred she has for ex boyfriends and farangs in general,not to mention every Thai slut in Thailand is concentrated into one very passionate nympho! My tailored suit trousers are just a bundle around my ankles as I'm about to plunge into the alabaster buttocks of Jia Chang,draped invitingly over the Yorkshireman's snooker table when I am Rudely Interrupted by Faa. "JOHNNY DRAMA. What do you think you are doing?"  I am left adrift,my throbbing boner a mere centimetre away from the dripping puss of Jia Chang.  Jia Chang is speechless,momentarily. 'Don't listen to her Johnny!! Don't be BRAINWASHED by mindless Thai morons! We belong together Johnny. You're like me..come on.. Johnny?Fxck ME!!'

Well the moment was gone. I'm not a porn star. I can't have sex with an audience. I pulled up my pants and went over to Faa. We all looked suitably embarrassed and got the hell out of there. I did notice that the old Yorkshireman had a lovely pint in his fist and looked well pleased.

Postscript.  Fortunately Faa hated Jia Chang.Faa was very sympathetic when we got back to her gaff.  Was a bit miffed that I found Jia Chang so hot. Did her best to make me forget her!

They're a smart race of people the Chinese. They're taking over the world you know.  Jia Chang is doing her bit. She gave me her phone number!!!

That's it for tonight Lads.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Cheers

Johnny Drama.

   classic

phone numbers have a way of burning a hole in your pocket

let us know the outcomes

SENASTIONAL JD !!! smile from ear to ear here and something else below lol

great stuff johnny drama.... i can picture this jia woman, i know ur in trouble here pal

Got a big story coming up Lads!

JOHNNY KHARMA

1. Rise and Shine

I instantly awoke at the sound of someone knocking on my door. I looked at my phone to see it was only 7am. For some expats that is the middle of the night but I've got stuff to do of a day and am usually up and at it by 9. Where I come from a knock on the door early in the morning usually means Old Bill. Only two people in all of BK know where I live.  It's taken me five moves to find a place that I can keep secret. It's easy in this town to allow blokes to crash at your place after a big night on the town. Problem is sometimes these cxnts don't know when to leave. Some of the girls are worse. These days I can go home and shut the door on all the noise and the craziness of BKK and retreat into my nice quiet private world. Anyway I knew for a fact that the two people that know the location of my sanctuary would never knock on my door at 7am. That left two possibilities. A neighbour borrowing a cup of sugar or the Old Bill.

All these thoughts took barely a couple of seconds. I tried to recall if there was anything illegal on the premises. I make a point not to have anything at home and I couldn't think of anything. Then I tried to remember if I'd done anything stupid lately. Like hitting a Thai person. Nuh. Nothing. What the fxck could it be?

The knocking became a bit more insistent until I finally opened the door to two Thai policemen. The Boys in Brown. A pair of nasty looking little runts. Without a word they pushed past me and stood in my living room,looking around and giving off the same arrogant air that coppers all over the world have perfected. I didn't say a word. Finally the smaller of the two said,'name?' and I replied 'Johnny Drama'.  He removed a notebook from his pocket,opened it up and turned a few pages then said 'I believe your name is John *** is it not?' using my real name. I said 'yeah but you can call me Johnny'.  'OK Mr Johnny. Passport?'  I fetched it for him and watched him while he studied it. The other geezer said nothing at all,just glared at me. The small one handed me my passport and said,' Mr Johnny where were you last Monday night?'  I said 'hang on a sec,what the fxck is this all about? Am I being accused of something here?'  'Can you just answer the question please Mr Johnny. This is a very serious matter.'   'What is it today? Thursday? How the fxck am I supposed to remember where I was exactly on Monday night? This is bollox. I think you better tell me what this is about or I'll have to ask you to leave.'  The two runts looked at each other. Telling a Thai policeman you're virtually throwing him out the door is not the smartest thing a farang can say!
'Mr Johnny do you know a woman named *** ****?' He used a name that I'd rather not repeat here.  I said 'I never heard of her.' Which was mostly true but I had a feeling I'd heard the name somewhere. Then he said,'maybe you are more familiar with her professional name. Faa. Do you know a woman named Faa?' I suddenly started getting a bad feeling about all this. 'Yeah I know Faa. What's up? Is she ok?' The little runt looked up from his notebook and I swear he looked a bit pleased when he said,'Faa has been seriously assaulted Mr Johnny. Last Monday night. Very serious indeed.' I had to sit down. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The copper continued. 'We have Faa's phone Mr Johnny. It seems you were the last person she spoke to before she was attacked. Now I'll ask you again. Where were you Monday night?'

Half of me was barely listening to him while the other half was saying shut up Johnny and get a lawyer! Faa! This has got to be a wind up. But of course it wasn't. I racked my brains to remember what happened on Monday night and Bingo! It hit me. I was out with a mate. I looked up at the cops and said 'I know what happened Monday night. I had dinner with a geezer then we hit a few bars and went back to his hotel and had a couple at the bar there and then I came home.' The runt looked slightly disappointed when he asked,'And does this "geezer" have a name?'  I smiled and said,'yep. Panzer Meyer!'  The Thai looked a bit puzzled and said 'Pasamai?'  'No, Panzer Meyer.'  'Panzamai??'  Panzer Meyer.  ' Pansie-My?'  'For FXCKS SAKE IT'S PANZER MEYER!!!!''   'Panza -My- A?'  'That'll do.' What is this Panzamai? Is this real name? Or name like Johnny Drama?'  'Panzer's a nickname. His first name is Karl. He's a German geezer. He's called Panzer because his Dad used to be a tank driver or commander in the war. He's got a lot of good stories. Karl looks like one of those old German war cxnts you see in the docos.'  The poor runt was starting to get a bit exasperated. 'What you mean he drive tanks? How do you drive a tank? What war? What you talking about?'  Well I suppose knowledge is all relevant. I know fxck all about the history of Thailand. In fact I know fxck all about the whole history of Asia in general! Under different circumstances I may have laughed about it all.

Just then the bigger and totally silent of the pair started to walk towards my hallway so I jumped up and blocked his path. I looked down at him and shook my head no. No way am I letting him in there to do God knows what while I'm sitting here with Columbo. He looked very pissed off but turned away. The little one said 'I think we are done here for the time being. We will go and see your friend Mr Karl Meyer. Check it out. We have many lines of enqiry we have to follow up on.'  I said,'how is Faa? How badly hurt is she?' He looked down at his notebook and replied,'It's pretty bad. Yes,very bad. She is in a coma.' He looked up at me before continuing,'but of course,you already know that don't you? Mr Johnny.'


FXCKIN' HELL!!!

JOHNNY KARMA


2.   The Alibi


I first met Panzer Meyer not long after arriving in BK at the gym. He's a fairly big unit, looks in his 30s but is closer to late 40s. He's in good nick and has the whole aryan look down pat.  As I mentioned earlier his Dad was a tank man in the war and that's how Karl got his nickname. He has some terriffic war stories about his old man. It turned out we had some mutual friends. While not being a member of the Village Irregulars he was certainly a welcome guest. Panzer was good company and paid for his own drinks and sometimes other people's so he was a valued member of any Irregular outings. He was vague about what he did for a living,some kind of businessman that had to do a lot of travelling was about as far as he went when asked. That suited the Irregulars fine who are fed up with expats who claimed to be former SAS or CIA etc.

I probably hung out with him more than most because I used to see him at the gym. He's not as bulk as me but he's a strong cxnt no doubt. It didn't take me long to figure that  Panzer Meyer was a bit of an old villain. I caught a glimpse of some scalp one time when he was swimming and saw some tell tale railway tracks. I've seen him hit the heavy bag and he knows what he's doing. One time we had a three round spar,nothing serious,just for fitness,but I could tell he's had the gloves on at some stage of his life. There was more to it than that. It's hard to explain. I was in a bar with him when he accidentally bumped a 20 stone bald tattooed football lout. The loudmouth was fxcking mental about it but when he had a closer look at Panzer Meyer he shxt himself and got the hell out of there. I'd seen what he'd seen. It's not just the physical side it's the eyes. They were dead. Expressionless. I've seen people with eyes like that before back in London. The football lout did the right thing.

But I wasn't bothered. Geezers like him can be terriffic company so long as you don't get on their wrong side. Even German ones. It was unlikely we would have a falling out anyway. We weren't in business. Just a couple of blokes hitting the gym and pounding some lager. I think I could take him anyway!

As I pondered about my German buddy two thoughts came to mind. The first was that he was a very occasional customer of Faa. Panzer wasn't much of a monger. He dabbled a bit and he had the cash to get some fairly high end girls. But he wasn't caught up in the scene. Some farangs here live and breathe it 24/7. They are sex fiends and crashing bores to be around. I asked Faa about Panzer Meyer just as I had asked her about other people I know she'd seen. Sometimes you hear some funny shxt! But concerning Panzer Meyer she just shrugged. Nothing to tell. I think.

The other thing that concerned me was something that happened about a year back when PM and I were at a bar where I knew the mamasan quite well. When Panzer went to the toilet she came over to me and said,'Panzamai he you friend?' I nodded. 'You be careful Johnny.' At the time I didn't think much of it. She never had a good word to say about anyone. Doom and gloom. Anyway as I said. Panzer Meyer and me weren't in business. We weren't partners. Just occasional drinking buddies. Where's the harm? I was beginning to wonder. Was I missing something?

3/4 time at our footy finals Johnny

amazing story so far .. all the best

come on Johnny dont keep the troops hanging.

JOHNNY KARMA

3.  Time To Pay A Visit Or Two


After the cops left I sat down for a bit trying to get my head around it all. Then I got up and went to the fridge and got a couple of Changs. The first one didn't even touch the sides. Thank God for alcohol. It's there for the best of times and the worst of times and all the times inbetween. Good thing I don't drink liquor or I may be getting messy. I had a shower and got dressed and grabbed another beer and took it out on the balcony. You may be thinking this was an odd moment to be enjoying a coldie but I had more than the view on my mind. I'd suddenly become very paranoid. Self preservation mode was kicking in. Drinking my beer out here gave me an opportunity to have a look around. See if anything or anyone looked a bit dodgy. Nothing did.

I packed a couple of things and made for the hospital. But first a little detour. I wanted to check out Faa's apartment. The ten minute trip took me about forty minutes as I changed cabs,backtracked,got on the skytrain,and generally tried to see if anyone was following me. When I arrived I spent about another hour at various spots outside looking for any signs of police or other undesirables. I've owned a pair of small but good binoculars for about fifteen years and you'd be surprised at how useful they can be. Satisfied I entered the building and put on some plastic gloves that I wear when chopping garlic and onions. I hate that smell on my fingers!

The first thing I noticed when I got inside Faa's apartment was a small bloodstain on the carpet. Shxt! That is not good. I had a quick look around and everything seemed normal. The place hadn't been ransacked. Not even any sign of the police turning things over. Ok. Gotta think. On the kitchen bench Faa has three phone chargers to charge her three phones. Two chargers were there and one was missing. The cops must have taken that with the phone they found. That means they don't have two of her phones. The phone they do have is Faa's personal phone and only has a handful of contacts. I am lucky enough to be one of those. Her second phone is her business phone. I am NOT on that one. So the cops definitely have the personal one. The third phone is reserved for a Swedish bloke living in Sweden who rings Faa occasionally and tries to talk her into coming to live with him. She went over there for a week once and couldn't stand it. The geezer is loaded though. I knew Faa kept this phone in her bedroom drawers so I went in there to check. The room was tidy as usual,the bed made,nothing out of place. I opened the drawer which just happened to have a load of undies in it and found the phone. One missed call. I slipped it in my pocket. Usually in this situation I would be tempted to rub a handful of undies on my face but it didn't seem the right thing to do given the circumstances. Ahh fxck it I did it anyway!  I had a good look around for the business phone but it was nowhere to be found. I was pretty sure that whoever attacked Faa must have the phone. I know a secret spot where Faa keeps some cash so I checked it out and the cash was still there. I didn't know what I'd find at Faa's and the reality was not much. Hospital time.

Another convoluted trip to the hospital and I arrived to be told that Faa was in intensive care. When I got there a nurse said that only family could see her. I noticed there was no family there. Faa was estranged from her family. They're not the usual penniless farmers whose daughters come to BK to make cash in the bars. They are respectable middle class types who disowned Faa the second they learned that Faa had given away a good job to make her money the way she does. It's the only thing that Faa regrets. She might be regretting something else now. After about an hour I tried my luck with the nurse again. I pointed out to her that no family was here and unlikely to ever come. She relented and led me to Faa's room.

Fxckin Hell! This was not good. Seeing Faa laying there hooked up to various machines was a kick in the guts. She had a bandage around her head but her face was untouched. If you just looked at the face you could imagine she was sleeping. Not really. Faa didn't look like that when she was sleeping. This was different. The nurse told me they had to cut her head open to relieve the swelling. I sat with her most of the day my head churning trying to figure out who would do this. Faa knew her customers they are all non threatening. That's what I thought. Who else would be in her apartment? Panzer Meyer couldn't have done it. He was with me. It was doing my head in! I needed a beer!

About an hour later I was in the BeerGarden sinking a few pints of Chang. I noticed a couple of little Thai runts enter and realised they were the coppers I'd seen earlier. The little one was smiling broadly. Must be good news. I said,'You found Panzer Meyer? What did he say?'  He replied,'Oh no Mr Johnny we no find Panzamai. But we know where he is. He took the first flight out of Bangkok Tuesday morning. Went to Liberia.'   'LIBERIA??!'  The little runt was quite happy now. Was giggling. 'Yes Mr Johnny. Liberia. It's in Africa.'

Ohhh SHXT!!!!

Tune in next week Lads where I'll continue "Johnny Karma".

Cheers!

cheers for the update Johnny ... (and the undies interlude )

and looking forward to the next installment .. as always

Nice one Johnny

superb Johnny...can't wait for the rest.

keep up the good working JD

good work

JOHNNY KHARMA

4.   "Better get a lawyer son.

        Better get a real good one."

        Cruel Sea.


As I got up to leave the Beergarden in the company of the Thai police I happened to see a quizzical looking State Of Maine approaching so I called out 'Get hold of Harvey Klitman.' He nodded and reached for his phone. The two cops weren't too happy with me and tried to give me a push. Tried. Just as I got outside I saw a Thai geezer staring at me. Nothing unusual about that but I had a feeling I knew him somewhere. Anyway I had other things to worry about.

Harvey Klitman was an Assistant District Attorney working in the Bronx up until about ten years ago. Back then he was earning a lot less than he could have if he worked in the private sector. Harvey was getting a bit fed up with prosecuting the same old **** criminals every day, and when I say prosecuting I mean working out plea bargains to make sure that very few cases ever came to trial. He was also fed up with his wife and his life in general. Then he made a fateful decision. He went on holidays with a few buddies to Thailand for a week. Within a month he was back - for good! Minus wife! Nowadays apart from being a respected and valued member of the Village Irregulars he has a kind of half baked law firm going on. He learnt Thai and the Thai legal system and helps out farangs who are unlucky enough to find themselves on the wrong side of the law. He earns a fraction of what he did back in New York but he only works a fraction of the time  and spends his leisure time with great diligence.

Needless to say my stay at the police station was brief. They had nothing on me of any consequence and at the sight of legal representation they folded. But they were pissed,the two little runts, and I knew they would keep at it. I suggested to Harvey we head back to the Beergarden for some pints and as always he readily agreed.

Later that night I returned home to find my front door wide open. That's a security building for you Thai style - any cxnt can wander in whenever they feel like it! The first thing I noticed was the fridge door open and all the contents on the floor. Oh NO!! My FXCKING BEER!!! What sort of a CXNT smashes a man's beer supply???  I looked around at the other damage. Fxck this. I walked back out and got myself some Changs. When I got back I sat down and opened a beer and surveyed the carnage. Everything decorative or artistic had been smashed to smithereens. Other more practical stuff had been left alone. Apart from my TV. That was in several pieces. There was something odd about it. My contribution to the decor consisted of the TV,some dumbells and various books and CDs. Plus a fairly sizable collection of empties. Adds a nice touch.  It was Faa who had brought over various bits of shxt that women like to try and make the joint look nice. All these things had been obliterated. In a frenzy. It was starting to give me the creeps.

I suddenly remembered where I'd seen that little Thai bloke from outside the Beergarden. I'd seen him at the hospital! I was so stunned by Faa's condition that I completely forgot to try and hide my tracks. I finished another beer and threw the empties in the pile of crap on the floor. Made me feel like a Uni student. The thing is I just can't see that little bloke doing this. This is psycho stuff. He might smash my place up if he was paid,but not with this level of hatred. No. Someone else did this.

JOHNNY KHARMA

5.   My New Relative

I'd been sitting by Faa's bed in the I.C at the hospital for about an hour when I got up to have a pee and maybe grab a bottle of water. I was a bit surprised to see a Thai lady sitting outside. I stopped and said 'Hi are you a friend of Faa's?' She looked up at me and ohhh MOTHER. OF. GOD!!! What a STUNNER. My knees almost buckled. She replied,'Faa is my sister'. I had to take a seat. She was beyond HOT for a start and she was Faa's sister. It was all a bit much. I got myself together and put on the charm and said 'Hi I'm Johnny Drama I'm a friend of Faa's'.  She just looked at me with what I must say was a fairly hostile demeanour. She said,'I understand you are the Prime Suspect.'  Fxckin Hell!!  'WHAT? You don't believe those knuckleheads? They got no idea. They're just hoping to pin it on a farang. I could never hurt Faa. We're like...you know...mates...best mates. Don't listen to those Boys in Brown they just want to jail all farangs.'  I'm not sure this approach was working. Faa's sister had an attitude of someone who wouldn't mind jailing all farangs,would positively welcome the idea! Meekly I asked her what's her name?

'Dao. It means star.' Faa had mentioned her sister to me a few times. They kept in loose contact but Dao couldn't get past how Faa made a living these days. I've often remarked to Faa how beautiful she is but now one occasion stood out in my memory. We were laying in bed in the morning after a big night of booze and sex. Faa still looked amazing. I said to her 'I can't believe how hot you look the night after.I'm used to waking up next to Munters.' She just laughed and said,'I'm not that good. I've told you before I'm the Ugly Sister.' I have heard her say that  occasionally and I just assumed she was being modest or she was doing some self esteem thing for her hideously deformed sisiter. Something like that. I didn't know she really meant it!!

I said,'Dao, I did not do this to Faa. But I'm going to find out who did. I'm already working on it. Not just me but all the Village Irregulars.' She looked a bit puzzled at that. ' That means a whole bunch of farangs are out there trying to find out what happened.' She looked a bit bemused by this but also pleased. I said 'I dunno about you but I could use a drink. How about you come back to this terriffic Beergarden I know and we can talk a bit more.'  She looked horrified. 'There is no way I'm setting foot in that part of town'.  I said,'OK,have you got a local bar? I'll come over there.' She looked even more horrified!! 'I'm not going to be seen with a farang in front of people I know. Especially one who looks like the stereotype of a Sex Tourist.'  WHAT??? SEX TOURIST??? I am NOT nor do I LOOK LIKE a Sex Tourist!'  She looked me up and down with barely concealed contempt. 'You've got shorts on. Only little boys and Sex Tourists wear shorts. You've got huge muscles. Only Sex Tourists have huge muscles. You're a farang. ALL FARANGS ARE SEX TOURISTS!!' Fxcking Hell!!! This Dao bird might look hot,(from the neck up I might add) but she's got some real problems.

I knew there was no reasoning with her. I said OK you name the place. 'Is jeans ok?' 'Yes but wear a shirt with buttons. No t-shirt.'  I said 'Dao have you ever considered that farangs wear shorts because it's FXCKING HOT in Bangkok??' She said,' I don't like swearing.'

JOHNNY KHARMA

6.     " Like To Get To Know You Well"

        Howard Jones


About an hour later I met Dao at the bar she texted me. 1. One. The first thing I noticed. Dao likes a drink. No that's not quite right. Dao drinks but it doesn't make her happy. Dao is not a very forthright personality. She is quiet, almost sullen. Drinking doesn't make her more gregarious. Just more brooding. She is hard work. Faa may be the "ugly sister" but she has a fabulous personality. Ever seen a couple of birds in a club,one hot and one so so? And you go over and meet them and the hot one is all aloof and the so so one is fun and bubbly and you just want to be with her and the hot one can go fxck herself? That is what it's like. Sort of.

After a few hours of drinking and painstaking scrutiny I begin to understand Dao a bit better. She had a fiance,a young Thai guy who was educated in the States. He spoke excellent English,as does Dao,and it was his plan for the two of them to move to Boston after they were married. Something to do with his work. Unfortunately six years ago the fiance was waiting at a set of traffic lights when a bus went straight ahead instead of turning left and ran right over him. Naturally Dao was devastated. She still is. That's her main problem.

Another problem is she lives at home with her parents who are overly strict and still living in another century,which one I'm not entirely sure. Since Faa betrayed the family by becoming a ahh...self employed...Dao has copped the full load. She's angry at Faa because Faa is selling herself and brought shame on the family. But I sense she is angry at Faa for escaping and leaving her behind. Maybe I dunno. Then there's her job. Arrive at sparrows at some corporate office and have to stay until the boss goes home. To leave before the boss is considered a loss of face. So the boss stays back just to make everyone squirm. Two weeks vacation a year. No wonder Faa got out of that shxt and started working for herself.  Shagging overweight farangs for shedloads of cash has got to be way better than that!

I really feel sorry for Dao. She's in a bad way. She never has anything to look forward to. I think it's important to have that. She's in a rut. But I'm a bit out of my depth here. I don't know how to help her. What can I say that's going to make any difference? So I say this. 'Dao tomorrow I'm going to look into a couple of things to do with Faa's attack. I was thinking maybe you could be useful. Do you think you'd be able to help?' It was the first time I'd seen her look vaguely enthused about anything. 'Yeah I'd like that Johnny.' She got up and went to the toilet and I watched her. She had on a business suit thing she must have worn to work but it was totally USELESS! Those things can often look hot on the right woman but this thing was all shapeless and camouflaging. I knew for sure that Dao had a glamour head but the jury was still out on the body.

Then I caught myself. Johnny, her sister is in hospital in a COMA. FFS.

Tune in next week Lads for more of "JOHNNY KHARMA."



Cheers

Johnny Drama.

will do Johnny..great stuff.

terrific stuff Johnny ... and all the best

great stuff johnny, take it easy on the chang thief when you find him

JOHNNY KHARMA

7.

Ever since I told Dao that she could help me find out what happened to Faa she has rang me every day. She wants to know what's happening and what I'm doing and when will she be needed. Truth is nothings happening,I'm not doing much and I only told her I needed her help because I felt sorry for her. This time when she called I suggested we meet at the same bar for a catch up and she agreed.

I looked forward to seeing Dao again and hoped she was wearing something different this time but alas,no. Same work style clothes. She at least seemed a little bit happier to see me than when we first met but I noticed she looked around a lot. It was obvious she didn't want anyone she knew to see us together. We had a few drinks and chatted a little more smoothly than the last time but she was clearly disappointed about my lack of action on the case. All I'd done was to tell the Irregulars to let me know about anything at all that might have something to do with the attack on Faa. That's about it. Not surprisingly she didn't think much of this and could barely hide her disappointment in me. I was a bit disappointed in me too but at least I had the consolation of having a drink with a stunningly beautiful woman. Just as I was admiring Dao's glorious head of hair my phone rang and I checked it out. Stubbsy. I pressed Ignore.

Stubbsy is a member of the Village Irregulars but is still a pest and while I don't normally hit Ignore on an Irregular I'm also not normally in the company of such a gorgeous human. Stubbsy lives on some paltry ex army pension and lives with an old ex bargirl and dragon known as Gin. She is ghastly. I don't know if she thought she was going to hit the jackpot when she got with a farang but it never worked out that way. I guess she left the bar that's it. The pair of them live in some dump in a part of town I would never venture. There's only one reason you get a call from Stubbsy. It means he is 3/4 pissed and has run out of money so he calls up and invites you to a drink and of course you end up paying. I've been caught a few times and to be fair to Stubbsy it's not that bad. He is good company. The Number One Rule for all Village Irregulars. So it's not an unpleasant duty. But I had no qualms about pressing Ignore. I knew he'd just ring the next guy on the list.

The phone rang again. That's odd. This time I picked up. 'Start talkin'. 'Johnny it's me Stubbsy. I'm at (he names a bar) and there's this German bloke in here asking about you. I overheard him and thought I'll tell him I know you,maybe get a drink out of it,but he seems a bit weird. I got a bad feeling about him. Maybe you should come over here and check him out.' I said 'where is he now?'  'In the bogs.' 'OK I'll be right there. Call you when I get outside.'

Dao must have seen from my expression that something was wrong. 'What's happening Johnny? You look worried. Is something to do with Faa?' I replied,'I dunno. Maybe. You should go home I'll give you a call tomorrow.' I stood up to leave but Dao was up like a flash. 'No way Johnny. You said I could be a part of this. I want to come.'  I couldn't imagine Dao being a part of this. I said.'Look. This might not be anything to do with Faa. Just some geezer that's all. Anyway this is in a real low class bar. This is a joint more seedy than you can imagine. I'm not sure you're up to stuff like this. Know what I mean? Do yourself a favour and leave it to me.' Oh oh! Now she's really angry!! 'If Faa can be in places like that then I can be too.'  I said,'Actually I doubt very much if Faa has been anywhere near a place as bad as this dump. Faa has got class.'   'I don't care Johnny. I'm coming'. What could I say? So I said it. OK. When we got outside Dao softened a bit and said 'she's my sister Johnny.'

JOHNNY KHARMA

9.

We grabbed a cab and after a bit arrived at Stubbsy's bar. I'd never been here before but he told me what it was near so I had a fair idea. A real scummy part of town. The very worst of the worst as far as tourists  go coupled with the very skankiest ladies not to mention the ever present threat of local men. As we approached it was apparent there was some kind of disturbance going on in the soi. A small throng of people were gathered about and there was much shouting. I started to feel a bit uneasy. It was all happening right outside the bar Stubbsy was in. I had that sinking feeling. This is not good. I pushed my way through the crowd to find Stubbsy laying on the road,holding his stomach and a mass of blood around him. 'Stand back!!' I shouted and made a pushing motion. I always wondered why people say that but now I know. The fxckers just crowd in gawping. Give the man some air! FFS. Anyway I knelt down next to Stubbsy and tried to get my head around all this. I pressed down on the rolled up towel that someone had put over his gut to stop the bleeding. Stubbsy looked up at me. 'Sorry Johnny.'

'What are you talking about sorry? Have you seen the state of you? What happened?'  'It was that German bloke Johnny.'  'Not Panzer Meyer?'  'Nah. Wasn't Panzer. Wish it was. He'd of bought me a drink. No. Was some other cnnt. He must of heard me talking to you on the phone. Grabbed me and dragged me outside. I told him everything I knew about you Johnny.And about Faa. Sorry Johnny. But he's a scary cxnt.' 'Don't worry about it. I'd a done the same. Did he ask about anything in particular?   'He wanted to know if you were Faa's boyfriend. I said no. Just mates. He got very nasty about that. Very nasty.' He nodded down at his gut. 'He also asked about Faa's family. Brothers and sisters and stuff. Well I don't nothing about that do I Johnny.' Fxcking Hell! I don't like the sound of that.

Stubbsy had a request. 'Johnny can you do me a favour?' 'Anything'.  Can you go and check on Gin? That cxnt took my wallet so he knows where I live. I just got a bad feeling.'  I didn't want to check on Gin so I said,'I'm sure he's got no beef with Gin. It's Faa and me he's after. Gin will be OK.'  'Please Johnny. You didn't see this bloke. He's not right in the head.' What could I say? So I said 'OK Stubbsy. Give me the address.' He started to tell me when I realised I had no pen to write it down and there was no way I could remember it. I looked around at the faces and saw Dao. I had forgotten about her! 'Dao have you got a pen and paper?' She looked momentarily confused before reaching into her handbag and producing them. See? She is helpful.

The ambulance arrived and I said goodbye to Stubbsy. I grabbed Dao by the arm and like the Cars song I said 'Lets Go'.

JOHNNY KHARMA

10.

I grabbed a cab and showed the driver the address. He turned around in wonder and said 'you sure?' I nodded. He said 'this is where you want to go?'  Yes! My friend lives there. He looked shocked but put it in Drive. As we got nearer the streets got darker,the rubbish grew larger and I became the only farang in the neighbourhood. The cabbie pulled up and said,'Two more soi down there you find it. This is as far as I go.' I paid him and we got out and walked. What a fxcking nightmare. Groups of people drinking on the street. A fire burning away. Kids running amok. It was nearly as bad as Manchester. Every somchai staring at me. I wondered if it helped being with a Thai woman. Maybe. But the fact she was a glamour may be working against me. Jealousy. Who knows? My eyes were darting around everywhere looking out for someone to push some steel between my shoulder blades. Dao said 'I'm scared Johnny.' I said,'Pffft. Scared? What's to be scared of? Just hang on to this and you'll be right.' I flexed the bicep and put  her hands around it. Maybe it helped her because pretty soon Dao was right up next to me. To be honest I don't know which one of us was scared the most!

I reached Stubbsy's house and checked the address again. I went to knock on the front door but something stopped me. I didn't know what it was but I felt something was wrong. I didn't want Dao to come any further. It was a mistake bringing her tonight. I told her to sit on that tatty old chair on the verandah and don't move. I crept around the side of the house to the back. As I did so I thought about Gin. I'd met her a few times and never much liked her. For someone who lived in the Land Of Smile I'd only ever seen her with three facial expressions. Bored,Irate and Scornful. She was a hard woman and I wondered why Stubbsy had come halfway across the world to end up with this dragon. Fxck it that was his problem.

The back door was wide open so I crept through to the living room. I turned on the light and was confronted by a gruesome sight. Dao on the floor. Blood everywhere. I looked around. The place was an absolute mess. Broken splintered furniture. She had put up a fight that's for sure. I looked down at the battered remains of Gin and thought what the fxck is going on here?? I never liked Gin but she didn't deserve this. If this German cxnt has some vendetta against me then fine. Bring it on. But why Stubbsy? And why Gin? I stood there for I don't know how long. Then I interfered with a crime scene. I know you're not supposed to but I just had to. I pulled Gin's skirt down.

Then I got the hell out of there. 'Lets Go' I said to Dao as I shot out the front yard. 'What happened? Was she home?'  'Yeah. She's fine. Best if we go now.' I didn't want to be anywhere near this when the Boys in Brown turned up. Dao didn't need to be asked twice. She was just as keen as me to get away. Eventually I hailed a cab and went back to the BeerGarden before I realised that this wasn't Daos scene. It didn't matter. Dao had seen a lot that night,thankfully not all,but enough for her to forget her middle class sensibilities. She just wanted a drink. We gulped down  a couple without saying much.

She reached across the table and held my hand. 'What did you see back there Johnny? she asked. 'You don't wanna know.' I pushed the scene from my mind and thought about the only nice thing to have happened to me in about a week. Dao was holding my hand.

Tune in next week Lads for more of Johnny Kharma.

Cheers

Johnny Drama.

ouch ... missed this post Johnny

taking us down a pretty sad-bad road here ... hope things are going ok with you ...

Quality Johnny. Hope Stubbsy manages to get a replacement. 

Sorry Lads. I forgot there is an 8 between 7 and 9.

JOHNNY KHARMA

11.

By now I was meeting up with Dao every day either during her lunchtime or after work. She was impatient for more to happen. These meet ups were a comfort to both of us. Even though not much was happening it was nice to be with someone with shared experiences. Dao was having trouble at work. Her mind was elsewhere and her boss was not too happy with her. She was constantly at me to do more and when I did do more she wanted to be there. I pointed out to her that there was not much I could actually do. The word was out we just had to wait and see what happens. The news of Stubbsy and Gin was electric and I knew it wouldn't take long for the Irregulars to come up with some useful info.

I tried to brooch the next subject tactfully. I said to Dao if she was going to come with me to the Sin City area of town then maybe she might think about changing the way she dresses. Now I don't want Dao to look like a porn star but her frumpy middle aged dress sense sends out a big warning sign to any punter or girl we might want to talk to. How to put this in a way that won't offend her was almost impossible. I did my best. I could tell she was annoyed,maybe even insulted but she put the good of the cause above her own irritation. She asked me what should she wear? I dunno. Faa would come in handy right now!

While Dao was thinking about it I received a call. A western geezer that owns a bar said I should come over. He said that he heard that a German bloke was asking about me the night before. I said I'd be there. I told Dao and she said 'can I come too?'  Ok when? 'After work. I'll meet you here.' OK.

Later that evening I was sitting in the same bar waiting for Dao. I was sipping a chang and looked out the window with a more than passing interest at a tall long legged Thai bird approaching the bar. Then I realised it was Dao!! Fxcking Hell! How can a pair of tight jeans and some heels change the way a woman looks so much? Dao approached the table with one of her rare smiles. She looked a bit shy but also pleased with herself. I said,'Wow Dao you look amazing!' 'You like? I don't look like a bargirl do I?'  'Not at all. You look hot but still classy. Like Faa.' I'm not sure she liked the Faa reference. Actually she looked way hotter than Faa. Shxt! This was getting weird.

When we arrived at the Bar it was still early. No customers. Billy welcomed Dao and I and got us some drinks. I said Hi to the mamasan Lipp who looked in astonishment at Dao. Billy said that it was Lipp who told him about the German bloke. I asked if she could describe him. She said he had blonde hair and was very big. I asked 'how big? Big as me?' and stood up. She took a half step backwards as though all big guys were dangerous and said,'not as big as you but close.' Then Billy said 'don't worry about being Inspector Morse Johnny I've got something better.' He said come on out here and check this out. Jackpot! CCTV. He plonked Lipp down in front of the screen and replayed the tape of all the customers coming and going last night. Even in fast forward you could tell there were some strange looking farangs drinking here. Dao leaned forward fascinated. Eventually Lipp said 'STOP that's him'. Billy paused the tape and we all examined the face of the German. It was definitely not Panzer Meyer,not that I ever thought it would be. I didn't know this geezer but I'd definitely seen him somewhere before.

Dao and I returned to the bar where Billy served us a couple more drinks. We speculated on the identity of the German when I had a Eureka moment!! I said to Dao,'come on! Let's go back to my place.' The look of horror on Dao's face indicated she thought I had reverted back to sex tourist mode! I said,'no come on. I need to get something. A phone. It's important.'

JOHNNY KHARMA

12.

When I got back to my place I virtually ran to where I had put Faa's phone. Her third phone for exclusive use of her Swedish boyfriend. It was dead so I plugged in the charger and and returned to Dao who was standing nervously in the living room. Fortunately when I restocked my fridge I made sure to get some wine. I don't drink it myself but I am ever the optimist. You never know when it might come in handy. I got myself an ice cold chang and Dao a wine. She sat on the edge of the lounge looking nervous as I explained to her all about Faa's phone set up and my hunch that the German may be the same guy as Faa's Swedish boyfriend. Maybe the wine was doing it's work or she just realised I wasn't about to ravish her so she leant back and started getting more excited about the possible breakthrough in the case.

Eventually I retrieved the phone and turned it on. There was a photo of blonde guy on the front. 'Do you think it's the same guy' I asked Dao. She said 'I think so. Not certain.' We went through the phone looking at call history and messaging. Very brief. Faa must've communicated to him by email. Did Faa have a computer? Fxcked if I know! Can't say I ever noticed her on it when I was at her apartment. Did she use internet cafe or email with a phone? I dunno! Dao was a bit pissed off about my lack of knowledge on this stuff. Faa was all class. When she was with me she never had her head buried in her phone. Not like most Thai girls. In fact not like most people in the world under 40. Apart from being considerate of others Faa found the phone to be an intrusion. When she was with me she was trying to get away from the world. Kick her shoes off and relax. I noticed that Dao never did much with her phone either. That's because Dao has got no friends!! Sorry,that's a bit cruel. It's true but!

We decided we would have to go back to Billy's bar and look at the CCTV again.  Billy got it back on screen and we compared it with the image on Faa's phone. Jackpot!! Same geezer straight up! We went back out to the bar for some celebratory drinks. This time the bar wasn't empty. There was quite a few punters and some girls on stage dancing. Every single person in the room,male and female,had a good look at Dao. She was a bit fuzzy by this time so her inhibitions were lowering. I said to her 'we can go somewhere else Dao if you'd rather' but she waved the idea away and said 'this is fine. If it's good enough for my little sister then it's good enough for me.'  I said to her 'Faa didn't work in a place like this. She is high class. Works for herself.' She wasn't listening. She was staring at the girls. Thank God I was sitting next to her because no doubt every sex tourist in the joint would have made a beeline for her and asked her how much. The girls were giving her daggers because no one was looking at them. All eyes were on Dao. Fxck this!

I said to Dao,'maybe we should call it a night. We've had huge news now we need to see what develops. Time to go home.'  She said,'Johnny,you're not asking me to go home with you are you?' She was getting a bit drunk by this stage. 'No Dao I mean I go home to my place and you go home to your place.' By this time we were standing outside on the soi. Neon,traffic,noise. NOISE!! Dao was silent for a bit. Then she said,'Johnny I don't want to go home. Back to my Mum and Dad's house. It's so boring. Can I come back to your place? Just for an hour or two. I've got to work tomorrow. I just can't explain. Tonight's been fun. I just don't want it to end. Not yet.' What could I say? HELL YEAH!!

Back at my place Dao necked a few more wines. She was getting fairly smashed by now. Talking a lot. She really was an unhappy woman. I couldn't help but feel that life was passing her by. 'You know Johnny I've never spoken to a farang before. Even though I speak English I've never talked to a farang.' She was getting a bit sentimental on me. 'I've only been alone in a room with two men. One was my father and one my fiance. Not many times with him either. And he's been dead six years.' I said 'so you've never even been in a room just you and a man for six years? What the fxck?' She said,'My parents are very strict. If I was to see a boy we would have to be chaperoned.'  I said,'so what do they say about me?' She burst out laughing! 'Are you mad?! Do you think I tell my parents I hang out with a farang called Johnny Drama??!!' Well I suppose I can see her point.

Dao fell silent again and sipped her wine. She stared at me so long I started to feel uncomfortable. This was all getting a bit awkward. Then she put down her glass,got up and came over and sat on top of me. She started kissing my neck and grinding the crotch of her jeans into my crotch. FXCKING HELL!! I automatically reached around and grabbed a couple of ass cheeks. By now Dao was snogging me like a teenager,her tongue going wild and trying to disrobe herself. My almost instant erection betrayed how I felt about the situation but another part of me thought this was a really BAD IDEA. I kept thinking of that Seinfeld episode. What is the Coma Ettiquette? Should I be getting it on with Faa's sister while Faa is in a coma? Would Faa be happy about that? I dunno. Faa is fairly open minded. We're not strictly boyfriend girlfriend but this is her Sister. It's not like someone on the scene. Her sister is virtually a virgin. Hell for all I know she is a virgin! Do I really want to deflower Faa's sister Dao the virgin while Faa is in hospital in a COMA??  FXCKING OATH I DO!!! I couldn't think of anything better!! Dao is the hottest Thai woman I've ever seen. I'm practically coming in my pants right now while she grinds on me!!

But I can't do it. Dao is drunk. She's unhappy. Lots of shxt is happening lateley. She's not thinking straight. She will regret this tomorrow. Big Style. I don't want to be Dao's regret. I don't want to her wake up tomorrow feeling ashamed of herself. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done but I extricated myself from Dao's drunken lust and called her a cab.

After she left I did someting that I have never done before in Bangkok. I had a wank!

Join me next time Lads for more of Johnny Kharma!

Cheers

Johnny Drama

usual brilliance JD

classic read Johnny

superb..don't make us wait too long for more.

come on Johnny!!

Orright Lads? Sorry about the delay. Very busy lately!

Johnny Kharma 13


This Dao business was doing my head in. I wasn't thinking straight. As I sat among the ruins of my former home I wondered why I was so dumb. What the fxck am I doing sitting here? This Swedish or German geezer knows where I live! And he's mental! I had to get out. My first stop was the Raj,a place that I am always welcome but Dao was horrified that I should stoop to such depths. The answer was obvious. I moved into Faa's. I already have the keys and her place is much nicer than mine. Also Dao was quite happy to visit here instead of Skank Central. Not that we did much,just talked and drank but it was nice.

The best news was when Faa came out of her coma! She wasn't up to much at first but there was slow improvement. At least it looks like she is going to be alright.

Life goes on. I still had to make a living while trying to visit Faa,babysit her hot sister,look for the crazed psycho that did all this while trying to not get killed. Plus I had to go to the gym every day and pound quite a few Changs and do my rounds. I was busier than a one armed bricklayer in Baghdad. A couple of nights later I stepped out the back entrance of a bar at closing time. I took a minute to take in the sight of the last dregs making their way home or wherever they were going next. Also making sure no psychos were intent on attacking me. I was just about to head off when suddenly an arm wrapped around my neck from behind and someone of great power squeezed the life out of my skull. He blocked my carotid artery. I knew what he was doing but I was completely powerless. A few seconds later just as I was on the point of unconsciousness he released me and I dropped to my knees. On all fours I gasped and spluttered,vulnerable. Afraid yet too preoccupied with being alive to really care. Finally I looked up at my assailant. Panzer Meyer!! What the FXCK??! Fear and self preservation was replaced with a burning desire to punch fxck out the cxnt!!

He looked down on me with scorn and said,'I thought I knew you Johnny. I thought you and me were on the same page,so to speak. Turns out I was wrong. I misjudged you. I was under the impression that you had been around a bit. That you knew the score. But I was wrong. You're just a little tattle tale. A little girly.'  What the fxck are you on about Panzer?? What is this?  He sighed and shook his head. 'A couple of weeks ago I had a visit from the Boys in Brown. Ten years I've been coming to Bangkok and not once have I spoken to a policeman. That's the way I like it. And do you know why I got a visit from the police? Because Johnny Drama has big flapping gums and told them to. I'm surprised at you Johnny. You of all people. I can't believe it.'

Ahhh now I see. A little misunderstanding. I say to him,'do you wanna lager?' He nods. 'Well give us a hand to get up.'

Johnny Kharma 14

We went back inside and sat down. The owner of the bar looked a bit pissed about it but he probably considered that the combined mass of Panzer and myself was about five times his own so he wisely chose to fetch us some Changs. I rubbed my neck while giving Panzer an aggrieved look. He laughed. 'That is nothing Johhny. A little choke-job. Me and my friends used to do that to each other at school for kicks.' Fxcking hell they got some weird cxnts in Germany is what I'm thinking. Anyway, I described the details of Faa's bashing and the subsequent events. Panzer listened with interest but I could tell he was still not happy about being introduced to a pair of Thai detectives. Fair play. I don't blame him for being angry about that. Then I had an idea. Maybe Panzer could help out with our investigation. I put it to him.

Unfortunately his response was to burst out laughing! 'Investigation? What is this Johnny? Are you a private detective now? I come to Thailand on business. Sometimes I sample the delights of the local hospitality. On occasion I have seen Faa and she is a very nice lady. But it is business. She is not my friend. She is your friend Johnny and I understand that you wish to help her. I can almost understand why you mentioned my name to the police. But I am in this country on business. I cannot be distracted trying to help the locals in their various feuds. Anyway I fail to see what I can do to help. It is obvious that sooner or later you will find this man or he will find you and then I have no doubt what will happen.'  'And what's that?' I asked. 'You will destroy him.'

I took a swig of lager and thought about what he said. 'Panzer,you think it's ok for me to stick my neck out and help Faa because she's my friend.' He nodded yes. 'I like to think of you and me as friends too.' He looked at me for a while then started to slowly nod. 'You know Johnny in my line of work I don't have too many friends. Actually none. I have drinking buddies and such but no one I would classify as a friend. Maybe it's time I got one.' He smiled and clinked my glass. 'So Johnny,what leads do you have on the case?' I knew he was mocking me good naturedly but I dug out Faa's phone to show him the picture of the Swedish boyfriend. I said,'I think this is our geezer.' I held up the phone in front of his face.

Panzer's face went from beaming affability to one of total shock. 'Mein Gott!!!' I never heard him speak German before and seeing him do it now made me think that's what his Dad must have said when he discovered a Sherman Tank on his ass during the Battle of the Bulge. Panzer stared at the phone as he picked up his glass and drained a nearly full Chang in one go. Then he stood up and put his hand on my shoulder and looked down at me and said,'Johnny if this is the man that is after you then please,I beg you,just do exactly what I say. No questions no delay. Leave Bangkok immediately. In fact I strongly suggest you leave Thailand. Take Faa with you. Maybe you should take Faa's sister as well. And anyone else you care about. Take the next available flight. Good luck Johnny. Goodbye my friend.' He looked at me a moment longer then turned and walked out. I sat there stunned.

Fxcking Hell!!!

Join me next time Lads for more of 'Johnny Kharma.'

now that's a development ...

Johnny Kharma 15.

I could barely sleep that night. I was in no doubt that Panzer was 100% serious. I tried ringing and emailing him but got no response. I didn't know what to do. How could I just suddenly get Faa and Dao to leave Bangkok? Where would we go? How could I convince them to go? I was going mental. Then the phone rang. It was Faa calling from hospital. She wanted to see me ASAP. Fxck it,I'm on my way.

On the way over to see Faa I had some time to think about what she wanted to see me about and I wasn't looking forward to it. Faa was almost better and I doubt a woman as shrewd as her could fail to notice the change in her sister. Dao was like a different woman to the one I first met. She talked and laughed and barely went two minutes without saying something like "me and Johnny went here or there or saw this or that." I shot guilty looks at Faa and tried to change the subject. I'm sure that Faa knew something was going on. Not that it was. We are just friends. Ahh fxck it these two bitches are doing my head in!!

Anyway I entered Faa's hospital room to be met by a greeting that went like this. 'Johnny Drama,are you fxcking my sister?'  WHAT? NO! Who said that?! I'd NEVER do that!! Are you SERIOUS??!!  'Why not? What's wrong with her?'  NOTHING. She's HOT. Well,not that hot. Not as hot as you. Maybe a bit hotter than you since half your head is shaved and you've got stitches all over your skull. But if it wasn't for that you'd be way hotter than Dao.'  I was rambling but Faa started smiling. 'It's ok Johnny. I'm only messing.' She reached out a hand and I took it and sat on the bed next to her. She asked me what was going on between me and Dao and I told her. She listened and then said something I doubt many women on the entire planet would ever say. 'Johnny I need you to do something for me. I need you to Drama-fy Dao. I haven't seen her this happy since before her fiance was killed. I don't think she was as happy then as she is now. It's all down to you. You've dragged her out of the shadows. She's like the sister I had when we were kids. But you need to do more. She has to get the full Johnny Drama experience. A month or two should do it. She can take a vacation from work. You can both stay at my place. Show her some life. It'll be the best thing that's ever happened to her.' I sat there stunned. This woman never ceases to amaze me. I was speechless. Faa must have seen my turmoil. She put her hand on my inner thigh and slowly moved it further up until she had a handful of the jewels and said,'Don't look so scared Johnny. I'm sure Dao can be a lot of fun once you show her what to do.'

I looked at her laughing and thought 'Fxcking Hell! This is the greatest thing I've ever heard. Faa wants me to bang her (possibly) virgin sister who is without doubt one of the hottest women I've ever seen for the next two months. But how do I tell the pair of them that there is a homicidal psychopath out there intent on hunting us down and it's best if we all leave Bangkok before lunchtime?'

Join me next time Lads for more of 'Johnny Kharma'.

great stuff pal..love it.

ready for more.

JOHNNY KHARMA  16

I've read books and watched movies about great men,decisive men who seize the moment and win the day. Unfortunately I am not one of them. I am constantly undecided,prevaricating and generally wishing I was somewhere else. With grave misgivings I decided to ignore the advice of Panzer Meyer and stay in Bangkok. I reasoned that the madman's main target must surely be Faa and it was impossible to take Faa away from the hospital.

It turned out that Faa had nearly the identical chat with Dao as she'd had with me. Now Dao and I are living in Faa's apartment together. I cannot begin to describe how amazing that has been. If the Madman was to kill me now it was still worth it!!! Dao has thrown herself into the Johnny Drama lifestyle. She hits the gym,comes with me on my rounds,is a favourite of the Irregulars at the Beergarden and is just a joy to be with. I think I might have found 'the one'!! I won't go into bedroom escapades out of respect but let's just say that as my student she has topped the class. My fxcking God you cannot believe what a Thai woman can release after ten years of denial!! She has become quite an expert on ladies underwear. Fxking Hell some of the stuff she gets around in. Round one for me is over before it's started!! I've had to get in the little blue pills to keep up!

Faa couldn't be happier for us both. The other day we were at the hospital visiting her when an amazing thing happened. I was sitting on the bed alongside Faa laughing and joking when Faa put a hand on the Box Hill Rugby Club shorts and started giving my halfback a rub. I didn't know what to say I looked at Dao who looked a bit nonplussed as well. Then Faa started laughing and said,'Don't worry. Just saying goodbye to an old friend. He's all yours now Dao!' We all laughed.

A couple of nights later I was out with Dao doing my rounds. Dao had become a great favourite with the bargirls and was usually flattered by the attention she got from customers. It was apparent to all bar the most unintelligent that Dao wa with me,Johnny Drama,so she wasn't unduly hassled. We'd had a very successful night and got a taxi back to Faa's place in high spirits. I couldn't wait to get inside and get myself wrapped around Dao again! She'd had on this micro dress that night that was doing nothing to hide that incredible body! I knew she'd be running like a river already!

I opened the door  and walked into a straight left delivered by a large blonde man. Goodnight...

JOHNNY KHARMA

Epilogue

It's amazing how quickly you can forget a traumatic incident when you are in a honeyomoon period with a woman as gorgeous as Dao. Life couldn't be better. I get the occasional nightmare,such as seeing Panzer Meyer hunched over me with his hands gripped around my throat but when I wake up it's over! Therapy?? That's for pansies. Or public servants. Bangkok is the real world and over here we just get on with life. If you could ever see Dao's legs or ass you'd know what I'm saying is true!!

There is one very disappointed lady out here though. After she heard the story about the night that Sepp came to her apartment Faa has become very interested in Panzer Meyer. I know Faa very well and know that look in her eye and that way she moves. I can guarantee that if Panzer Meyer was in Bangkok right now he would be having the time of his life!

Unfortunately I've not seen Panzer since that night and I doubt I'll ever see him again. But a day won't pass when I won't remember him.

That's it Lads. I hope you enjoyed 'Johnny Kharma'

See you next time!

need more Johnny!

times up JD...we need more..the best read on BF

He's busy getting ready for Race 5 at the Valley tonight

come on Johnny!

Happy New Year Johnny!

Happy New Year my favourite Bulgarian

Sorry Lads I've been very lazy lately. I get emails from around the world and this one here I think you'll enjoy.


"THE 31st Annual Monger Olympics"

The crowd at the Pension Grilparzer was exhibiting more excitement than had been apparent in that room since Ying the Obese Bartendy had flung Shaky Derek into the street for exposing himself at the bar. Every stool was occupied, the tables along the open seaward side of the room were jammed with men and it was standing room only on the porch outside. The parking lot behind the building was packed with motorcycles big and small (but none rented), battered Land Rovers and already shiny luxury sedans being polished yet again by liveried chauffeurs.

The occasion that had brought Mongers to the Pension from Chiang Mai, Pattaya, Songkhla and Bangkok, from Hong Kong and Istanbul and Sao Paolo, was the Thirty-First Annual Monger Olympics. The result of this evening’s contest would determine which man could, without argument from his peers, be the ultimate voice of authority on all matters relating to the Floating World in Thailand.

Each year three men entered the race, but only one emerged to be, for the following 364 days, the man who would settle matters in the eternal debates of Chang versus Singh, Seng Thip versus Mekhong, Phuket versus Pattaya, Cowboy 1 versus Cowboy 2, and Ying versus Yang. After tonight only one man among the legions could say, without argument from any quarter, whether the Viagra sold over the counter was really Viagra, what a lady boy imagines when he masturbates, or whether it’s dangerous to eat the fried grasshoppers because they kill them with DDT.

The judges for this year’s contest were the three men who had competed the year before. The winner of the previous year’s contest was Surin Sammy Schwartz, a grizzled Semitic Santa Claus known to bar girls from Haad Yai to Chiang Rai as “Poom Pui.” For the past year Schwartz had dispensed his pronouncements from the end stool (the one right under the air conditioner) at the lunch counter of the Roong Thanakiat Department Store in Surin. Schwartz lived in Surin because that’s where his third wife owned land and a house he paid for and by God even though she won’t let him sleep in that house any longer he sure as hell was going to hang around town and by his behavior make her lose face until she paid him at least 49 percent of the market value.

Surin Sammy’s co-judges this year were Jeurgen Two and Nigel Fezziwig. Jeurgen Two had come to Thailand from Munich in 1988 with his cousin, Jeurgen One. They came right from work at the Audi factory and both wore on the plane their oil-stained coveralls. Unfortunately they got separated at the taxi stand outside Don Muang Airport and since Jeurgen One had all their documentation and money in his pockets Jeurgen Two had been stranded in Bangkok for twenty-three years without funds or passport. He’d been cadging drinks and meals and living on people’s sofas, dodging the Immigration Department and picking up pocket change giving home-made tattoos since then, but he still wore the coveralls in which he’d arrived. He was clinically depressed but that really didn’t set him apart from any other German you might meet.

Nigel Fezziwig was an eternally sunburned and eternally jolly old Englishman, all freckles, buck teeth and Adam’s apple. A hail-fellow-well-met in a pale green safari suit with impeccable creases, surrounded by a cloud of Acqua di Gio and bonhomie. Nigel was considered only marginal nobility in Brooks Peerage but had been for the latter half of the eighties the King of the British Darts Organization. It was the schism in professional darting in 1993 that had driven a shattered Nigel, with his trust fund and his soulful brown eyes, to seek refuge in the gay bars of Chiang Mai, where his overbite and his soft lisp earned him the nickname “Baak Dok” or “Flower Mouth,” which he much preferred to what had been his nickname at boarding school: “Suck On This Nancy Boy And if You Tell Anybody I’ll Bloody Well Kill Ya.”

His particular areas of expertise were Thai silk and art antiquities, and his home on the Northern bank of the Mai Ping, built a century ago of raw teak joined with elephant ivory pegs, was on the Thai Register of Historical Sites.

The crowd fell hushed as this year’s three contestants made their entrances into the room. The contest actually began out on the street, where the contestants had to shoulder their way past the Pension Grilparzer’s more aggressive touts shouting out the delights of the famous Goldfish Show. Pushing past the touts was more ceremonial than anything else, but nobody ever forgot the contest in 1998 when Jackie “Pull My Finger” MacDougal lost in the opening round simply by acknowledging the existence of a doorway tout. There was a lot on the line and nobody wanted to leave the field of combat by pulling a rookie error like that.

Three men swaggered up to the bar, their eyes never still, their heads swiveling left and right looking for friends who might have a pitcher and a spare glass, or enemies who might have a grudge and a pool cue.

They took their places at the center of the bar and each made the slightest nod to Ying the Obese Bartendy. Getting a drink of your usual without having to ask for it was a basic skill in the sport, and all three men received their glasses and acknowledged Ying’s efforts with a smile. The tallest man’s smile was more of a leer, which made Ying the Obese Bartendy, who didn’t get many leers, smile back. This earned the tall man a nod of approval from Nigel Fezziwig, to whom good manners toward wait staff were exceedingly important. Nigel made a mark on his score card.

The three contestants leaned back against the bar and savored their beverages, allowing the judges to size them up.

On the left was Rufus “Tex” Walker, the tall man who had leered at Ying. He was a lanky drink of water in jeans, cowboy boots and a flannel shirt. His only concession to the tropical climate was his cowboy hat: it was woven from rattan. Tex was an expatriate of the “aint gonna change fer nobody” variety. He refused to eat Thai food, refused to learn a word of the Thai language, and pointed his feet at everything and everybody. He told all who would listen that he was proud of who he was and where he came from and since he was paying the bills all the “little brown people” could just learn his language and cook him his goddamn steak. A few people, newbies overwhelmed by the rigors of assimilation mostly, were impressed with this show, and show was all it was, since “Tex” was born Gunnar Olaffssonn in Sandusky, Ohio, the son of a career executive at Alcoa Steel and an elementary school principal. His whole frontier persona was a fabrication, a fantasy he dreamed up while reading “Lonesome Dove” on the plane to Thailand in 1985 and fleshed out with clothes purchased at Robinson’s.

The second contestant was Guy “It’s Pronounced Gee” Na Ayuthaya, the love child of a Thai nobleman and a French tourist who met at the Full Moon Party in 1990. Since his mother took a lot of hallucinogens during her pregnancy Guy had some cognitive difficulties, but he was much beloved by the bar girls because of his aristocratic surname, upper class Thai tones, luk kreung movie star features and adorable little penis. He compensated with an enormous BMW motorcycle and the best drug connections in the Kingdom, and since he was a closeted homosexual his demands on the bar girls were very meager and took almost no time at all, so if the judges at the Thirty-First Annual Monger Olympics had been bar girls Guy would have won the moment he walked in the door. But since the judges were other Mongers, and since Guy was universally despised by every man who’d ever met him (including, sadly, his father), he was considered by the odds makers in Vegas to be a mere straw man candidate.

The third contestant was a dark horse, literally. He was DJ Livingston Ijahman, known everywhere on Koh Samui as “Beanie Man.” He had worked for years at the Reggae Pub, then at the Reggae Pub 2, then at the Rastah Pub, the Jah Pub, then the Reggae Pub again, then the Reggae Pub 3, then the Ska Pub, then the Island Nation Pub, then the Lion of Judea One World No Woman No Cry Pub. Then he opened his own bar called “Noi’s Bar.”

He moved with a feline grace that most of the time kept his mountainous hair out of the ceiling fans. He and Nigel were the only men in the room who had even a hint of purple in their wardrobes. Nobody ever understood a word he said, but everybody who knew him always worked their association into conversations. “My black mate says…” “So I was hangin’ out wi’ me black friend…” “I got this stuff from my black buddie, so ya know it’s damn good ****…” The bar girls were all afraid of him and it was only slightly easier for him to get sex on Samui than it would have been for him to get a taxi in Manhattan.

Nigel Fezziwig cleared his throat to ask his first question. “Contestants,” he began, “First let me commend you all on finding your ways here today. In preparation for this contest all the tuk-tuk drivers in Patong were instructed to take any farang who asked for the Pension Grilparzer to the Scorpion Training Camp instead. Kudos on you all, chaps, for passing the first hurdle so splendidly. It reminds me of a time, don’t you know, back in…”

Surin Sammy Schwartz put a beefy elbow into Nigel’s ribs to get him back on track. Nigel barked a single syllable of laughter and asked his question. “First question, gentlemen…” He waited for the laughter from the crowd that he knew “gentlemen” would provoke. “First question, Mongers, is this: Who is the better writer, Christopher G. Moore, Jake Needham, or Johnny Drama”

Tex shouted out, “Ding!” The organizers had, once again and for the thirty-first year in a row, forgotten to get those little bells for the contestants to ring when they knew the answer.

“That there,” Tex said, “is whatchoo call one o’ yer trick questions. None o’ them varmints is a writer. Moore and Needham are lawyers, and Johnny Drama is some kind a jerk off that writes on a gambling forum."
Tex was rewarded with nods of agreement from the judges. All three bent to make marks on their score cards.

Surin Sammy, clinging desperately to the last shred of relevance this life would ever offer him said, “Jeurgen, you’re up.”

Jeurgen Two looked over his shoulder out of habit before speaking up. “Ya, zo… Tell me, haff any of you fellows got two hunnert baht I could borrow?”

DJ Livingston Ijahman, known everywhere on Koh Samui as “Beanie Man,” had suddenly sprouted a pair of ear buds and an I-pod left behind in his bar by a tourist. His head was back and his eyes closed and his body moved as though he had no bones; he was obviously too immersed in his music to have heard the question. Tex Walker was doubled over in laughter, slapping his denim-clad thighs and stamping his slightly-taller-than-you-might-expect-on-a-man boot heels on the floor. When his laughing spasm had subsided he turned smoothly to the man next to him and engaged him in conversation.

But Guy Na Ayuthaya had simply vanished. One moment he was there, leaning on the bar, holding his drink, the next moment Jeurgen Two asked for some charity and suddenly both Guy and his drink were gone. No flash of light, no puff of smoke, just a barely audible “whooooosh” as air rushed in to fill the Peter-Pan-shaped void left behind. Surin Sammy whistled softly. Nigel Fezziwig sighed ecstatically in the presence of an ideal of Monger perfection. They both made marks on their cards. Point Guy.

Jeurgen Two said, “No, I mean it, I haven’t had anyt’ing to eat since yesterday, und I’m feeling kind of woozy…”

“Now for my question, you guys,” Schwartz interjected. “Let’s say you fall in love.”

Everybody in the room froze. As the reigning Mayor of Monger Town Schwartz had the right to ask the last question, but this was an area usually off limits not only in the competitions but in everyday Monger life. Love was a subject that Mongers knew only in the abstract, as a concept, something they’d read about, or heard about, and something that frightened the bejeezus out of them. Love was the Monger bogeyman.

“Let’s say you fall in love,” continued Surin Sammy . “Let’s say you meet a woman, any woman, maybe a bar girl or maybe a shop girl or maybe your kid sister’s college roommate.” Some men on the porch nervously made their way out to the parking lot, digging in their pockets for their keys. Love itself was a frightening word, but love with a woman who was not a prostitute? When they heard him say it, some of them peed a little bit.

The bargirls of the Pension Grilparzer, who had been sent upstairs while the men folk took care of important business in the bar, had been listening at the top of the stairs waiting for their opportunity to come back down and resume making money. To them the day’s events were nothing more than an inconvenient momentary interruption in their shift, and upon going upstairs they had acted like secretaries in the West act when, once a year, they are required to go out to the parking lot and be instructed on the proper use of the fire extinguishers. Some of them welcomed the interruption in their routines, and some fretted about the work left unfinished on their desks.

But some among them knew enough English to understand Surin Sammy’s question, and they translated for their sisters with astonished tones. In the silence that followed his remarks the group began to ooze down the steps like some organic compound. Their eyes were as big around as dinner plates.

“Let’s say you fall in love,” said the rotund frizzled Poom Pui, “and let’s say she loves you back. What do you do then? Do you give up the Monger life? Do you give up the advantageous rate of exchange, the freedom from responsibility, the easily understood rules, the comfortable numbness of drugs and liquor and ennui, and commit to a life where you actually have to mean something? A life where you actually have to take responsibility for your actions? Keep your promises? Do any of you think you have the skills and the strength to go back to that kind of life? And do any of you think you would do it for love?”

There was a moment of silence. A rather long moment. Surin Sammy’s question meant something different to every man and every woman who heard it. His words, “responsibility,” “rules,” and most especially, “love,” were not words that had precise inalterable definitions like “wet” or “fingered” or “threeway.” Sammy was using words that had to be thought about. These were words that had to be felt about.

Unfortunately for Guy Na Ayuthaya, the word “love” was not a word for which he had any point of reference. His mother had been only dimly aware of his presence, and to his father he had never been anything more than an excuse for keeping young attractive women living in his house under the guise of “nannie.” Since Guy was really attracted to men, but didn’t know it yet, he had never experienced anything like love among the hundreds of bar girls he had paid to service him orally while he screwed his eyes shut and tried (unsuccessfully) not to think of Calvin Klein underwear models. Guy shrugged his canary-wing shoulder blades and said, “Mai khao jai.”

Tex Walker was standing away from the bar, his hands automatically held out from his hips, as though ready to draw the six-guns he wished he was wearing. His eyes searched frantically for an exit. He was suddenly very hot in his denim and flannel and he began to sweat. He knew he had to say something, so he said, “Aw, hell, aint no such thing as love. No such real thing, anyways. Love is just a word women invented to steal a man’s money. Any red blooded man just gets what he needs and moves on. No reason to talk about nothing like love. Is the air con workin’ or what? Damn, it’s hot in here.” He took a red bandana from his pocket and used it to mop his face, then he stared at it like he’d never seen it before. He seemed to have forgotten where he was.

DJ Livingston Ijahman, known everywhere on Koh Samui as “Beanie Man,” looked out at the room and hated everybody in it. He said (and for the first time in living memory all the white people understood him), “I were in love once, man. Nevah again. Nevah. Aint no pain like it.” He turned and put a hundred baht note on the bar to pay for his drink and he walked out of the room, head high like a Zulu king, but trailing a whiff of defeat and self pity.

The day had gone horribly wrong. Surin Sammy Schwartz’s question had upset the apple cart and what should have been an afternoon of drunken revelry followed by an evening of drunken debauchery followed by a night of drunken stupor followed by a morning of Vitamin B and self loathing had turned into something unexpected. The judges looked down at their cards. They looked at each other. They should have put their heads together and figured something out, but they didn’t really feel like talking. The judges, and everybody in the room, suddenly had a strong desire to run away.

Nigel Fezziwig spoke to the crowd in his nasal reedy voice. “Hilly Ho, Chaps, let’s take a break, shall we? Everybody order another drink and visit the loo, whatsay? I feel like a bit of fresh air, myself.”

The room emptied like a fraternity party when the keg is empty. Some people made noises about reconvening the contest the next day, with new judges, but nobody really had the stomach for it. A few men made their way into the bars and brothels of Patong and buried their unease in liquor and anonymous sex, which left them, as always, curiously unsatisfied. A few men went to the airport and flew home, to try to reconnect with a life they’d thought they were done with. A few men just walked down the road with stunned expressions, without guides, without maps, without goals, without plans.

Surin Sammy wandered out to the beach and waddled his fat ass up and down its length, staring out at the horizon as the sun dropped out of sight and the stars came out. He knew he would never be welcome in Monger society again. He had brought up That Which Must Not Be Named, in public, at what should have been a celebration of the Monger Philosophy. He was not welcome among the other Mongers and he was not welcome among his third wife’s family in Surin and that left him only one other place: Home. He thought about it, and he realized that probably had been his destination all along.

Nigel flew back to Chiang Mai on the next plane, and the whole way he composed something in his head, something he had to say to a young man he knew who worked in a particular silk factory. Nigel could imagine the young man replying in two distinct and different ways, and both ways frightened Nigel.

Jeurgen Two wandered around Phuket Town for an afternoon, where he panhandled enough change to buy a one-way bus ticket back to Bangkok. Upon arrival he walked from the bus depot to the German embassy and asked for help getting his visa straightened out so he could go home and settle some unfinished business. He had a feeling he would find Jeurgen One back home and he really wanted to ask him, “Vhat da hell, man?”

Tex got in his car and drove to a Sikh tailor shop where he had a nice suit made. He never wore denim again.

Guy climbed on his massive motorbike and roared off into the night, oblivious as ever to what had gone on.

And the bar girls of the Pension Grilparzer huddled in a group at the top of the stairs meditating on the word “love” for a few minutes. As always, when all else was said and done, when the evening’s tawdry dramas had played out, the bar belonged to the girls. One, a youngish girl fairly new to the game, asked another, “What happened? Is the contest over?”

The older girl said ruefully, “Yes, Little Sister, the contest is over.”

“Well, who won?”

“Nobody, Little Sister. Nothing but losers here tonight.”

I love the part where someone asks to borrow money!! So true.

A great read...don't be a stranger Johnny.

usual class JD

Orright Lads.

Got a story for you coming up.

great story johnny..in my experience,fatties give the best ****s,most iv known could suck a golf ball through a garden hose

good to see you're back with a tale or two Johnny

Come on Johnny!!..I can't wait forever.

Orright Lads? Too busy lately to come on here but a bloke emailed me a good story the other day I think you'll enjoy. Cheers.

"Breakfast Club"


The morning sun was brittle on the murky waters of the Chao Phraya River. Between the Oriental Hotel and the Peninsula Hotel ancient teak rice barges lumbered downstream. Water taxis buzzed between them like flies around cattle. The city gave off a waking up energy and the air still held the coolness of night. Phil was in a fantastic mood.

After all the sex of the night before he felt like a wrung out dishrag. It was a terrific feeling. The two Nana Plaza scrubbers he’d bar fined and taken back to the Nana Hotel had done everything he’d asked them to do, and he’d filled his camera’s data card with the record of it. It was his first night in Bangkok and he’d negotiated a price for the girl friend experience, although he wasn’t positive what that meant, and he’d certainly made them do things he’d never had the courage to ask any real girlfriend to do.

He was so pleased with them that he had impulsively invited them out to breakfast to give them a treat. He’d chosen the Oriental Hotel because he’d heard it was the classiest place in town. He was certain these two girls had never had a decent meal in their lives and would be genuinely in love with him after they enjoyed his spontaneous act of kindness.

Jeep smiled up at the fat farang with what appeared to be adoration. She was dying inside, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life, but if she could smile at the fat American while he did the things he’d done last night she could smile at the fat American now. What in the world had he been thinking, bringing them to the Oriental? She still wore the clothes she had worn in the bar last night, and she could feel hundreds of eyes crawling over her exposed skin. Everybody on the terrace was staring at them. She forced herself to keep thinking about the new roof on her mother’s house in Nakhon Nayok. The monsoons were coming and she would have to pay for the job before the men would start. She needed money now, and this farang was almost unbelievably stupid with the way he threw his money around. He had told them it was his first night in Bangkok, and that meant he still had plenty of money and she could try and get a few more nights out of him. Just a few more nights like last night and Mother would have a new roof. That was the thought that energized the smile she showed the fat farang.

Gaew smiled up at the fat farang and her eyes sparkled. Inside she was seething with rage. If the fat lizard had told them where he was taking them she could have talked him into a more intelligent choice than the Oriental, but he had wanted to surprise them with a treat. How in hell was this a treat? The menu didn’t have plah rah or grasshoppers anywhere on it. Even a 10-year-old who gets a good school report gets grasshoppers. After what she had done for this man last night she should have gotten a one baht gold chain. Instead she got chicken eggs and bread. Sh1t. There wasn’t even chili or fish sauce on the table. She had thought about ordering a Thai breakfast, maybe laad neuah, but she knew that in a place like this the Thai food would be made for farang palates and thus inedible. Either tasteless or a sledge hammer of sugar and salt. But Meow would be waking up soon and if she wasn’t home with some money by the time he woke up he’d hunt her down and beat her. She remembered that she had rubbed the fat American’s toothbrush on her anus when she was alone in his bathroom at the hotel, and the memory was what made her eyes sparkle.

Nit was standing by the railing, her back to the river, clutching some menus to her chest and watching the six tables in her section. One table was still empty. The other five held the three old French ladies who had been nibbling on tea and bread for an hour, the two Japanese women staring at their phones and ignoring their dumplings, the four Chinese businessmen hunched over piles of documents and a stack of empty dim sum plates, the kind old Dutchman who always read a book at breakfast, and the horrible American and his two ****s.

How dare he force her to wait on such women? She was born in Bangkok, her grandfather had been Chinese, and her father was a doctor. She herself had two years of accounting classes at Ramkhamhaeng, but didn’t have the interest to go on. And she had been promised to Dao when they were both teenagers, so why study at all? She only worked at the Oriental because her father insisted that she do something until Dao was ready to marry, and anything at the Oriental was a high class job, for a middle class girl. But she had never expected to have to serve ignorant Isaan farm girls, and ****s no less.

Dao had been putting off their marriage for a year because he was involved with a girl like that. She despised that type of woman, and she despised this farang for making her serve them. That’s why she had spit on the American’s omelet before she brought it out of the kitchen. Out of the corners of her eyes she was watching him eat, and with every bite her smile grew broader.

Pierre shot his cuffs for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. A nervous tic only, his suit, shirt, cuff links, tie and tie pin were perfect. His shoes, socks, pocket square, wrist watch, and hair cut, all perfect. But he was angry and unsure what to do, and this was how he fidgeted. He tugged elegantly on his left sleeve and then his right. He was not even aware he was doing it. He stood behind his teak podium and pretended to examine the reservations book. He wished he knew what to do about the gauche American and his two prostitutes.

How had they even got past the doorman? Pierre had sat them on the edge of the floor, by the railing, where the customers always complained about the river stink. He put them in Nit’s section, the waitress who was so bad at her job she’d never be promoted past the breakfast shift. He himself was only a steward on the dinner shift, but on weekday mornings in low season Mr. Klemperer let him play manager at breakfast. But Mr. Klemperer had never told him what to do when a classless buffoon somehow got a couple of ****s onto the property. Pierre’s father had been a chef d’or consierge at the Ritz in New York, his grandfather the General Manager at the Kulm St Moritz. Smiling was in his blood, he could no more stop smiling around the guests than he could stop breathing. He smiled now, an elegant, sophisticated smile, but he was not even aware he was doing it.

Phil popped his last bite of omelet into his mouth and washed it down with the last slug of lukewarm coffee in his cup. He wondered how this place had such a good reputation, the omelet tasted funny and after she dropped off his food the waitress had never returned to warm up his coffee. But the girls were smiling like angels, although they hadn’t eaten much of their food, and he could stand a little cold coffee if it meant making the two of them happy. He was proud of himself, immensely proud. He had seen the manager looking at them, and he reckoned from the looks that not many tourists were as kind as he was, treating a couple of hookers to a meal at a place like this. He wondered if he even needed to pay them for the sex, after giving them an experience they would remember the rest of their lives.

Jeep’s head was pounding. The fat farang had insisted they all drink a lot last night, and she hadn’t slept at all. She was intensely conscious of the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol on her clothes. She just wished this horrible morning would end. The sunlight bouncing off of the water was cutting through her head like a knife. “The new roof... The new roof…” She repeated it in her mind like a mantra.

Gaew stirred the horrible foreign food around her plate with her fork, a utensil she was unfamiliar with, and hoped it looked like she’d eaten something. She was giggling at something the fat lizard was saying. She couldn’t understand a word of it, but she made her eyes sparkle and tossed her hair and slipped a hand over his thigh under the table. She knew the waitress could see it, but she had been on the game for six long years, and she was used to the Bangkok Thais sneering at her. She didn’t give a **** about them. She would finish this awful meal, leave this awful place, the fat lizard would pay her and then she could go home and give Meow his money. He would leave to play cards and drink and she would have the apartment to herself. A long shower, a good sh1t, and a little bit of heroin rolled up in a cigarette and she could go to sleep. Sleep was her only reward these days. She lived to sleep. She thought about sleep and turned the resulting smile on the fat lizard.

Phil paid the bill and gave the waitress what he thought was a good tip. They were getting up from the table, and the girls’ smiles, already brilliant, lit up like comets. He had what he thought was a great idea. He had put a new data card in his camera before he left the Nana Hotel, and now he turned to the elderly white man at the next table and asked if he would take their picture. The man agreed, and Phil ushered the girls to the railing where the glorious river would be behind them. He tucked each one under an arm and said, “Smile, ladies!”

Stunned, ashamed, hung over and focussed on the exits, without thinking both girls did what they’d been doing all night: they posed for a photo the way the fat farang had taught them. They both reached down and cupped his balls and smiled into the camera.

Time froze. Everyone on the terrace was staring at them. The two Japanese women had turned their phones toward the scene and were in obvious Japanese video heaven. The four Chinese businessmen were looking at the two debased Thai women and the ridiculously inept American and they all experienced a rush of confidence that would carry them on through a morning of fantastically successful meetings. The three French matrons were furiously gathering their things to storm out. Pierre was reaching for the phone to call security.

The Dutchman’s finger moved, the camera went “click,” Jeep made a small, fractured sound, and Gaew’s fingers began to close around Phil’s balls.

Top class Johnny

Johnny Drama = Lazy Cxnnt.

JOHNNY DRAMA STILL A PLAYA!!!

I'm in a short time room and I'm naked and sitting up and Dum is naked and sitting up. Her small bony hands are squeezing the flesh under my shoulders so tight I know it's hematoma time. Sweat is running off of us like a torrent, she is gasping the marathoners oxygen deprived death rattle, and her pxssy is oozing. It's a hot hot rainy night in Bangkok and the humidity level is about 90%. It's a death zone for most living things on this night at 2 a.m. but she is not going to stop now. She has been riding my dick like a piston gone berserk long enough to know that it is just a matter of time now and she will have an orgasm. She's all bones and make-up this girl but one giant clitoris in heat under the right circumstances. And tonight everything is right. The three foot speakers are pumping out the little Thai songstress Tata Young and her Dhoom Dhoom is giving Dum the rhythm she needs. She's wired and pumping now and if she comes down crooked she'll snap my dick off but I'm past caring. It's sexual commitment time. Some geezers beat the train at the crossing–some geezers don't; but they all signed on for the ride. She can't see because her hair is in her face and I can't see because her head is in the way.

The hotter and the more humid the better. I p1ss in the mother's milk of all the little jerk offs who complain about it being too hot and too humid in Bangkok. Little whiny mortgage holders and pansy breeders who know what is best for everyone else. The flaccid and the weak who rode into town on their Bibles. Well, fxck them and fxck the Bibles they rode in on. Run it up to about 45 degrees and keep the humidity up around 95%. Now lets see who the players are! Dum and I will be there. Naked. Fcxkin Hell these little suit and tie losers just want to make me hurl; with their superannuation, and their responsible behaviour to their dependents, and their mature citizenry. The only things that count are chaos and Arsenal and steroids and sex. Any other dream is the weak who can dribble but can't shoot. Line up you babies. And let the pimp slapping begin. Do you know who gets my respect? Whooors who steal from me! That's what they are supposed to do. At least someone is living right.

We get kicked out of the short time but the party rolls on. I take Dum to the Oriental and the dude on the door has a freak out. Nothing that baht can't solve. Same inside. I don't know or care what's happening to my card I can't stop looking at Dum's ass. Do your best. Top floor. Penthouse with private pool, jacuzzi, and a view of the river and Thon Buri beyond. Fxckin' A Man--we are going to bang on every horizontal surface and push and grunt all over the snow white carpet. We'll pull the curtain cords down, cut up chair cushions with the complimentary serrated steak knife from the en-suite kitchen, and tie them to my knees and her ass. No $400 per night rug burn for us. We're pros.

The second we're in the room Dum is on all fours demanding anal. I'm no Butt Surfer. Last time I tried it I had no lube. Used washing up liquid. It took off all seven layers of skin off my penis. From the pubic bone to the head. Like a snake. Worst three weeks of my life.

My trip to the Doctor:

Dr: How can I help you Johnny?
Me: Well Doc, as you can see all of the skin is peeling off of all of my penis and I am a little worried.
Dr: How did this happen?
Me: Well I was butt fxckking a b1tch and I used Morning Fresh brand dishwashing soap for a lubricant and . . .

. . . . . ( Now the Dr's head drops down and he is silently staring at his clipboard ). . . . .

Me: Oh come on Doc! This can't be the first time you heard this story!


Anyway! Back to Dum and me at the Oriental.

I put Super Freak by Rick James and All Along The Watchtower by Neil Young and Big Legs, Tight Skirt by John Lee Hooker in the machine and pipe it into the shower speakers. I'm in there an hour singing and screaming and throwing the fruit from the complimentary fruit basket against the tile walls. High on life drinking Ice Cold Changs. Dum says she doesn't want to join me. Says she wants to do yoga. Go figure. While I am in the shower I hear a huge booming crash. What the fxck?

Out of the shower and I slam into a piece of furniture because the apartment is pitch black--Dum has killed all the lights except for a glow coming from the living room. She has pushed the thousand kilo eight foot tall teak armoire over on its side and dragged it up in front of the picture window that overlooks the Chao Praya river and faces the skyscraper condos of Thon Buri on the other side. Two floor lamps have been moved behind the armoire for back lighting. She is naked and on top of the armoire in the Scorpion pose yoga position. Head arched back and pointed into the room, fish paste **** pressed against the glass.

Dum: Aren't all the boats on the river pretty dahling?
Me: Boats my ass--stop showing your pxssy to the telescope pervs and suck on this!

There is always time for exhibitionism. Hit the lottery when I met this woman.

An hour later Dum and I are sitting up in the bed trying to figure out the remote. The TV is playing Turning Japanese by the Vapours.  Come on Bangkok. Is that all you got? Let's jack it up–45 degrees and 95% humidity for 150 straight days.

Whos' a Player???

Cheers Lads

Hope you enjoyed it.

Johnny Drama.

classic read as always Johnny

sorta (just sorta) making me wish the summer humidity would get here in Brissy 

  Well done Johnny

I Think I Work For Faa


The buzz at the BeerGarden is electric. There is an Aussie girl dancing at **** bar that is simply astonishing. To be honest I'm not too interested but the boys insist I go over there and check her out. State Of Maine asked if he could buy her a drink and she said 'fxxk off sex tourist' and he was terribly offended. Tourist? He's lived here 20 years!

So I went over there to check it out.Let's face it I've got nothing better to do. And WHOA!! She is something!! A big girl. Great body. Tall. Lots of blonde hair. The face? Not that great to be fair. But she can dance. Fcxk YeaH!!! She Fxcking Pumps it Real Good!! Puts them Thai bitches to shame. Why she is dancing at a bar girl bar I'm not sure. When she had a break I asked her if I could buy her a drink? She looked me up and down and started laughing. Ok.

I lost interest but the Irregulars are obsessed with her. So I try Plan B. This time I take Faa with me.  Faa asks the big blonde for a drink and like magic it's a different response. Not quite what I expected. The blonde says she's busy right now but she'll be happy to meet us at a coffee shop the next day. So we do. The girl's name is Beth,she's from Sydney and she's working in IT in Bangkok. She LOVES dancing,loves making an exhibition of herself in the bars,LOVES the other girls. Doesn't particularly like western men in Bangkok who she assumes are all sex perverts. She is nice to me but I can tell she's not buying it! Here's where it gets interesting. I notice the waitress is smokin hot. Not like a slutty bargirl just genuinely attractive. She smiles a lot and seems extra friendly. Faa and the Aussie go off to the toilet and she is onto me. Is that your wife she asks? No no I'm not with them. Just friends. She is nodding like crazy. Fxcking Hell I just feel like grabbing her and taking her home. The bitches come back to the table and order another coffee so I have to listen to their bullsh1t even longer. Then the waitress gives me the bill. She is looking at me funny. I finally comprehend. I turn over the bill. A phone number!



Faa The Humanitarian.


Faa keeps telling me about some old bag she used to know when she first came to Bangkok.  A mother to her. I've heard this story before. Faa must have had fifty mother figures. I tune out. I couldn't care less. I'm laying on the lounge drinking a Chang and watching Bosch when suddenly I'm whacked across the head with a rolled up newspaper!!!! WTF???!! Faa yells 'I'm talking to you and you're not listening!!!' 'WTF? I'm watching TV' Anyway we both calm down. Here's the deal. Faa wants me to barfine this old bag with 10,000 baht. Make a weekend of it. I'm like,are you serious? Why don't you just give her the money? Apparently that would be a loss of face. For fxcks sake Faa can't we just have some normal time together? A few beers,some TV and then bed. Is that so hard? Have I really got to go and fxck some old boiler?

So anyway  a few days later Faa pointed her out to me. Working freelance.  I checked her out from afar. Then I went to the BeerGarden to get a few pints in. Then I went back out there to meet Faa's old mother figure. The woman that had been kind to Faa when she was a girl. A woman that was getting on a bit now and had nothing to look forward to. No pension. No safety net.  I had one more can.

Umi was actually not as bad as I thought. I could tell she must have been a looker in her day. She had quite large tits that must have been sensational back then. She was missing a tooth or two but that's to be expected. I caught up with her and said Hi. At first it was all normal. But Umi never shuts up. Her mouth is on ICE. Anyway, she talks ("I am a one man woman–I will be your only woman."), and laughs ("I'm so happy to be with you."), and charms ("You hansum man--I no like Thai man."), and tells stories (has a son–spent 5 years in Singapore as a maid) continually. Softly and charitably it occurs to me that this selling is the over-the-top desperation of a prostitute who is forty-eight and has a plain face. You could throw a rock in a crowd in Bangkok and hit something younger and prettier than her. And she knows it. My heart softens.

Well, an hour and a half later I am a whipped smiling puppy! On the way back to my place she had been a gattling gun of charm and winning talk and clever bargirl mannerisms. She trots out every bargirl smile and cliche and trick. I am not some sailor boy that just stumbled out of a landing craft during military exercises. But she is selling and I am buying and I appreciate her attempt to do business.
We get back to my place and I can't keep my hands off her. Sure it's not the sculptured perfection of Faa but there's something real here. Her big lugs. Her stretch marks. Her neediness. She pulls me down on top of her and says 'Fxck me Johnny'. I'm reluctant. I never fxck wXores missionary style. That's for husbands and wives. People who love each other. Can look into each other's eyes while they do it. With Ho's I rather doggy style or similar. Anyway she persuades me. I'm up on straight arms and locked elbows. I'm pumping for oil. She does something no woman has ever done before. She slaps my face. HARD. I stop. Astonished. She screams 'KEEP FXCKING ME!!' I continue. She slaps me again. I don't care!  With the muscles in her body from her dug in heels to her hamstrings bars of leveraging steel she arches her back up off the bed and starts a rain of blows that temporarily staggers me. Punching me with her right hand and slapping me with her left hand and punching and slapping and punching and punching and punching and slapping and spitting and groaning. I snap my head back to escape a head butt and then she goes into a frenzy of slapping and punching until finally she can't hold her arms up anymore. Blood is pouring out of my nose and mouth onto her neck and the ensuing orgasm feels like my intestines are coming out of my penis!!! And to think it all started with an introduction from Faa. She has a plain face and a forty eight year old body and she knows she has to work for the money. God bless pros. You can have the newbies from Issan–I'll take the experienced older woman anxious to please!

After our shower we settle in to watch TV. There is no mention of the battering I just copped. I put my arm around her. BLISS!!

Orright Lads?

Hope you enjoyed it.

Johnny Drama.

The bitches come back to the table and order another coffee so I have to listen to their bullsh1t even longer.


... such imagery Johnny .. tears runnin outta my eyes 

Where is sofiakenny?

Orright Lads?

Got a story for you.

What Am I Gonna Do?   Part 1


Loyal readers of the Johnny Drama thread will be familiar with Poon and Little Bit. The ladies I stayed with when I first came to Bangkok. The last time I mentioned Little Bit was when she was recovering from a bit of over use of ya-ba. I can happily report that Little Bit is fit and well and way past anything like that. In fact,Little Bit is no longer working in the bar industry at all. She is in the retail industry working for peanuts in some shop in Central Embassy.

I still run across Poon on my rounds and we are still friends. How couldn't we be? She is so funny and such a hedonist I've even fxcked her a few times. She is a star! Last time I saw her she said something odd. She said 'it's time to grow up Johnny'. And she looked at me strange. It creeped me out.

Days later I got an SMS from Little Bit. She wanted to meet me. I've never had an SMS from Little Bit before. We met at the BeerGarden. Even that was weird. I was there at the allotted time and had downed a pint of Guinness when she entered. FXCKIN HELL!! Little Bit is looking pretty hot these days. The big rack is still there. The puppy fat has gone. The unhealthy look of people that are constantly drunk had gone and was replaced with a healthy glow. We got a drink in and she wasted no time in getting down to business.  She had an epiphany or whatever is the Thai word for that is. She realised that with her past as a prostitute no good Thai man would have anything to do with her. Only criminals and drunks and losers. She also realised that the kind of Western men that came to Thailand and hung around prostitutes were fairly similar to Thai men. So she made a decision. Johnny Drama. Sure he had his faults but they were out there for all to see. She knew what I was like and she didn't care. I was good enough.

So we should get married.


Married??? I've never even had sex with Little Bit. I've seen her naked loads of times and she has offered more than once but WTF??

Mind you I do like her. Really like her. If it wasn't for Poon I'd love to scoop Little Bit up in my arms and just be with her forever!

What Am I Gonna Do? Part 2



Fortunately at that moment my phone rang. I took the call. It was Faa. She said she had to see me immediately. FFS these women think you've got nothing to do all day! I told her to meet me at the BeerGarden at 4pm. Ok. I was already there and managed to share a pint with me old mate State Of Maine. He gave a nod and I turned to see Faa.

Now Faa has had a wine with me in the BeerGarden about a hundred times. Most times she dresses casual. Shorts,t-shirts,not much make up. She doesn't need to impress here. We're all mates.The Irregulars know who she is and everyone is fun and respectful.
That's why I'm a bit alarmed when Faa shows up in full make up and slut dress. I give her a look that says WTF? She just says get the drinks in Johnny. I get 'em in and sit down. Fxckin Hell a fully made up Faa in a posh frock is something to behold!!! I don't know what is the line between adult male in a semi relationship and horny leering perv because I think I could go either way!

I try not to leer too much because I can see Faa is super serious. Firstly she points out her situation. Being a long time prostitute no respectable Thai man will ever want to be with her. The Thai men that would want to be with her are beneath contempt. The Western men she has observed over many years don't impress her.

There is only one option. Johnny Drama. At this moment she holds both my hands and looks directly at me to the point I feel uncomfortable. She says,'I Really,really,really,really LIKE you Johnny Drama.'  I say,'You don't love me?'  Faa replies,'I only say I LOVE You to my customers.'

What Am I Gonna Do? Part 3


That absolutely blew my head off. But Faa didn't stop there. She said she was quitting the whole scene. She was retiring. She never wanted to work again. At anything. She just wanted to stay home. She'd make my lunch and dinner and wash my clothes and we'd watch TV and just live like normal people.

There was one big RIDER. I had to agree to support and send money to her family.  She had been doing it for years and I had to keep it up. As a man and as a husband it was my duty. One other thing. Faa had been estranged from her family for many years because she was a prostitute. Faa wanted me to help her bridge the gap. She said her parents hated farangs but she hoped that Johnny Drama could make them change their minds!! She didn't just hope. She banked on it. She squeezed me till I nearly burst and implored me! Ok. I'll do my best.


I've just had two marriage proposals in two days.





What Am I Gonna Do?

great stuff Johnny

my first thought was

... trouble always comes in threes

so watch out for another

Orright Lads?

Got a story for you!!

JOHNNY DRAMA OVERLOADS ON RAYMOND CHANDLER!!!

PART 1

I couldn't fxcking believe it!! State Of Maine DEAD!! SHOT DEAD!! I got a call from a contact in the Thai brownshirts and the news wasn't good. The death of State Of Maine with a farang suspect had little priority for them. This case would be on backburner asap. If I wanted to know what happened it would be up to me. The call couldn't have come at a worse time. I was just leaving the apartment of a waitress I'd met the night before.  Cute gal. Legs all the way up to her earlobes. I enjoyed watching her pleasure herself with a carrot but she thought our night together meant something more than it did. They always do. Like they scream, “Why are you hiding in my closet? Who let you in? I’ll call a cop!” Stuff like that. Dames. Always looking for the Drama! So I was glad for the call; it gave me an excuse to leave in a hurry. That and the wok she threw at my head.

I got a tuk tuk straight over to Thermae.  The scene that greeted me resembled a stag party Caligula might throw for a lodge brother. At least a hundred women, some actually women, and some of those sober, and at least two of those attractive, milled around the room aimlessly, bumming smokes off the punters and calling each other giant lizards. Some were dressed like school girls, some like secretaries, some like rock stars, some like cowboys and some barely at all. No matter how they were dressed every girl in the joint carried herself like she was a queen. That’s right, they all walked like they were Ru Paul.

There were a few men in the room, their faces obscured by cigarette smoke, dim tavern lighting and a universal expression of senior citizen ennui. It was the nightly convention of the World-Weary, this particular night hosting their friends the Hopelessly Jaded. Every man in the room wore shabby, sun-faded clothes and some kind of footwear that exposed toenails that had gone too long untrimmed. Pasty faced damp jowled,eyes nervously darting about the room. It was common to see a man nervously reach behind him to make sure his wallet was still there.  Some were in groups of other men, all of them leaning in to the center of the table to be heard and shouting above the din of juke box ballads and “Eeeeeeeeeeh, man hia!” Some of the men were circling the room, trying to catch a woman from a good angle. One couple in a corner were violently arguing, pushing each other back and forth and thirty seconds away from the first punch with even money on which of them would throw it. In the opposite corner a man and woman were in a tight clinch, one of her hands propping them against a wall, only one of his feet supporting them on the floor. Every one of the men in that room was obviously miserable, every one of them carrying some personal burden of guilt or pain that weighed them down like leaden Buddha amulets, but ask any one of them and he’d tell you he’s there because it’s fun. These are men who had given up wives and children and families and careers and reputations to be here. They were men who would rob a bank to stay here. Or kill.

Of course, State Of Maine might have been killed for a million reasons. The man had enemies. The only person who could tell you why it happened was Two Can Dan, and nobody could find him to ask. That was my job. Apparently the detectives of the Bangkok PD expected me to find the killer.  They’d relax, iron the pleats in their uniform pants, place a few boxing bets, watch a little “CSI Miami.” They love that show. White women are so tall, and kind of scary. It was a feeling shared by every man in Thermae.

My hunt for Two Can Dan started with the bartender. The bartender at Thermae is a half-Thai half-Chinese bull **** named Joo Si Fahnee. I call her Juice.

“Hey, Juice,” I said, introducing some suitably gritty dialogue into the narrative.

“Herro, saxy man. Whatchoo want dink?”

“Why are you talking that way?”

“I thought it would be more atmospheric if I spoke in some exaggerated, bordering on comical, pigeon English.”

“Well stop it, Juice. You’re creeping me out.”

“Okay. Sorry. Just trying to help.” She wiped a desultory bar rag across a stoic bar. “What are you drinking?”

"Chang" She returned with an ice cold bottle with a large slice of lemon in the neck. I picked it out and flung it away in disgust. I heard a slap noise and turned to see an outraged punter peeling a lemon skin off his cheek and roaring "WHAT THE FXCK"!! I got up off my stool and said sorry mate and he obviously thought twice about taking it further.


When Juice returned I held her wrist and asked "what do you know about the man who shot State Of Maine here tonight? Juice’s face became hard as a blob of  toothpaste caked on the edge of a Nana Hotel sink. She looked around to see who might be listening. When she decided we weren’t being overheard she hissed at me, “Fxck you. Get out of my bar.”


I wasn’t offended. This is a bar in Bangkok, and not one of your classy Soi Cowboy bars. This was Thermae, the place where violence and rage went to cheat on their wives, where a punch in the jaw meant “It’s your shout, cxnt.” The mood of the mood lighting was “paranoia.”  State Of Maine had been shot in here tonight, and so had the three hookers that were under his table. (That includes the two he came in with and the one that’s just always under every table at Thermae.) My point is State Of Maine had been shot in here tonight and the only person who was expressing any interest in finding his killer was me,a steroid fuelled Arsenal supporter who was already wondering if he really gave a fxck about it all anyway.


But I was still surprised by the Big ****'s response. Me and her go back a long way. My Chopper is the only non plastic Chopper she's ever sucked.  It was unusual for her to fix me with a steely glare and hiss a profanity in my face. “Whoa, there, big fella,” I said. “Why are you acting like a woman all of a sudden?”


“You make me sick Johnny Drama,” she said. “You’ve sucked all the syrup out of the Bangkok sex scene snow cone, posting your Bullsh1t stories on your crappy little Forum that nobody reads, and pretending that you're some kind of literary figure.  But you understand nothing!! Commercial sex is tawdry and dirty and tragic, and it’s almost rugby like in its mindless two-dimensionality. It has nothing in common with a genre that explored with irony the deepest themes of Man’s existence through a framework of well worn detective novels such as Raymond Chandler's great works."


“Can we go back to the pigeon English?”


“Forget it, Johnny.  Look. Just face it. It’s. Been. Done. Okay?” Juice suddenly realized there had been a lot of dialogue without any physical description, so she threw her bar rag down on the counter angrily. And with great flourish.  " FFS Johnny surely you've squeezed every conceivable cliche out of the Thai sex scene and now you're adding a Raymond Chandler angle onto it? You're like some one hit wonder from the 70s. Give it up son!!"


"OK. No problem.  Any idea where I can find Two Can Dan??"



Juice sighed. “Okay. Go down to the waterfront. Big godown with gold-painted doors. Find the Chinaman. Yadda-yadda-yadda, don’t tell him I sent you, blah blah blah. That’s all I’m sayin’.” With that she scooped up the money and turned her broad muscular back on me. It was okay, though, because I had a lead. My first solid lead of the case. I picked up my  Waratahs cap off the bar and set it on my head at a rakish angle. Yeah, I had a cap when I came in. Didn’t I say so? Oh, well, I had this cap and I put it on, careful to dip the brim down over one eye. I left Thermae by the back door and moved from shadow to shadow, down the rain-slicked alleyway, making no sound in my thongs.

Part 2 coming soon.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Johnny Drama.

always Johnny   ... & looking forward the next instalment ...

have a beer on me while you write

Sorry Lads just haven't got the mojo for writing lately.

Here's an old piece from Gorilla Monsoon I think you'll enjoy.




GUTTER LICKER

A local expat who lives in Washington Square is giving me a tour. This is a nice thing for him to be doing and the kind of inside knowledge tour that is just great for someone new to an area. We have lunch in a fly happy alley. The Thai experience. The food is horrible, the alley is horrible, the flies are horrible. I'm pretending to be having a good time. The Thai experience.

One table over is a single Thai woman having lunch. She is demure looking and petite and pretty and young and poor. I'm in love. I'm already naming our children. My friend chats with her and finds out that she works at the bar across the street. I'm in love (oh yeah, I already said that).

A couple of days later I just happen to stumble into her bar around 6 p.m. Believe me when I say this is no accident. Usually I am more reserved and circumspect with my heart in Thailand and I never get involved with that paternal dream nonsense but this Thai woman has just blown all of those rules and habits to bits. IF you do not know what I am talking about then you have just not chocked up enough sunrises in the Kingdom. Anyway, she and her friends are eating some kind of fatty fried Thai meat. We stand around and eat together. The meat for western palates is disgusting and gross. Garbage food you would feed to begging pets or throw to pigs. Poor people's food. I pretend to eat. She is standing beside me. The bar is empty. I'm getting no clues from or about these girls. They look like waitresses. Waitresses are not always hookers. I do not want to say or do the wrong thing. And I am nuts about the essential goodness of this quiet Thai woman. So I am going very very slowly. Just feeling around in the social dark for the right thing to say and do. I am in love with this rustic angel (did I mention that?). In her slightly shabby baggy clothes no clue is available about her figure and she is certainly not dressed to sell. I'm buying the face and the dream. Please love me.

One thing leads to another and I bring up the subject of barfines with my heart in my throat because I do not want to be yelled at by outraged innocence. Surprise surprise surprise; I get an unenthusiastic 'yes' and my future wife disappears to dress. The barfine is 600baht. SIX HUNDRED BAHT. Six hundred baht in the dump known as Washington Square in an empty open air bar that offers no shows and no dancing and no band and no DJ and no smiles. A little red flag goes up in my head but I pay the barfine and smile. Wait a minute; what am I saying? A BIG red flag goes up in my head. 600 baht is just complete nonsense. But I'm in love (Did I mention that?) and I pay.

Off we go by taxi to the Nana. In the fifteen minute trip to the Nana she talks to the driver continually and to the complete exclusion of me. She should be using the time to sell me. She should be sitting close and holding my hand and smiling and laughing. She should be earning the money. She isn't doing any of this. The incendiary hot center-of-the-sun ardour I had for her is starting to cool. If this was my first trip to Thailand it would be different but this farang who looks like every other farang fool as been splashing around in this mud for years. I hear the driver use the word farang at least ten times. There are people who will tell you that the use of the word farang by the Thais is not a negative. They are mistaken. That would be like someone here in America telling someone else that the use of the word n1gger is not something they should be alarmed at hearing or take offence at. Maybe I'm just not hip enough or liberal enough or smart enough for this world; but I find being called a n1gger by the service/hospitality people of Thailand offensive. I'm at the point now in Thailand (one of the most racist countries in the most racist part of the world) that if a Thai does not refer to me as Kuhn Fabulous I just automatically assume that I am the object of the ignorant lameass 'them or us' tribalism that makes them believe that objectifying me with the word farang is appropriate social behavior. Thailand and the people of Thailand will never be players of note on the world stage until it/they learn some manners. False smiles and filthy temples are simply not enough in a competitive world. Anyway . . . Another red flag. Or ten red farang flags. I sit in the back of the taxi and start to change. No longer am I in love. Like a shrinking flower with closing petals as the sun goes down so goes my belief in our future.

You know how you just get messages sometimes? Without conscious application of will or thought or need or intent a meteor of information will streak in from a mystery place and crash into your head with some form of text or speech or warning that you cannot discount? Well, maybe you aren't going to be getting messages if you just arrived in Thailand for the very first time or if you are still new to Thailand–the incoming data is just too perplexing and chaotic. You are too impacted and bewildered by everything to be able to cut through the static and receive messages. But I am not a wide eyed tourist or even a newbie. I have been stumbling around in this social jungle for some time. So I get one of those mystery messages delivered to me from a faraway place and from some indeterminate cosmic 'friend'.

In the time the taxi takes to pull up to the door of the Rajah hotel on Soi 4; and the time it takes to exit the taxi, pay the driver, go through the lobby, and end up in front of the elevators I have received a message. And the message is: this woman is not a demure simple ‘good girl' suitable to be giving birth to my children–this is a down-and-dirty gutter licking ‘doesn't give a ****' wh0re. Boy, talk about an elevator trip up to my room. My mind is a mess. Anger, disappointment, despair, and the still pitiful wishing and hoping of the ever optimistic western male. But mostly despair. It is hard to be a man in the red-light theatres of the world (we do not always have to be picking on Thailand) because your unreasonable desires are not respected by others. You are a fool on a fool's errand and you have no one to blame but yourself.

In the room it is hopeless and disappointing. Not surprising because I now know what I am dealing with, but disappointing. I started out with a dream, followed through, spent money, made the commitment; and I've got nothing in my arms except an ungiving uncooperative wh0re who should be servicing Thais in an upcountry shack for 50 baht a dick. But there are two surprises coming. We are not done yet.

The first surprise is when she takes off all of her clothes and I see her naked. I nearly fall down in a faint. My knees go weak. I'm not some virgin boy fresh from his parents Scottish farm on my first trip to the Kingdom. I have seen and held in my arms countless women. I have been amazed and dumbfounded and surprised many many times by a woman's startling beauty and sexuality when stripped of vanity and pretence and clothes. But this is noteworthy. A blind man would be sucking wind off the tops of his lungs if this creature was in front of him. For a Thai she has an uncharacteristically voluptuous body of simply jaw dropping proportions. The kind of body that would excite cries of "it can't be real". The kind of figure that would make birds drop from the sky and soi dogs shut up. The kind of cartoon body that entices educated worldly urbane sophisticated Japanese businessmen to read Japanese comic books. She is like a farangdingdong.com girl burst from the screen and in my life. I don't have the carpal tunnel syndrome or monitor screen redeye or back spasms of the fanatic or obsessed computer nerd so this moment in my life must be real. One step forward and I'll be able to touch her like the Mayan novitiate about to touch the temple top priestess.

Now I know why she dressed in shabby baggy clothes. If the general public knew she had a figure like this she would not be left alone for one second. Men and women and children would stare at her transfixed and walk in her wake. Alert to trail and scenting her temple in the distance. But she doesn't want to be a high priestess of sex and fecundity. She just wants to be. She just wants to eat and sh1t and bonk: the trifecta of the uninspired and the uninteresting. Evolutionary dark matter that leaves little room for planetary lights of sophistication or intelligence.

Like every other male who has ever seen her naked probably from the time she was fourteen years old I am instantly and irrevocably her slave. Just babbling and physically genuflecting and spastically gesturing at the feet of a primitive iconic fertility rite. Instincts tell me that a press on her breast would cause it to burst with milk and fluid and placing a hand inside her leg and pushing would release a bucket of fluid and musk. No wonder she is so lazy and unforthcoming. Since the age of fourteen she has learned that her body is her currency and that she doesn't have to do anything to get the money. Like many humans when presented with temptation in the form of unearned gifts she has decided to take the shortcut and the low road. Money for nothing and your dicks not free.

No details about what went on between us in that room on that night in the Rajah hotel on Soi 4 off Sukhumvit in Bangkok are interesting. We were both just playing out the string in the pretend game of the sex-for-money industry. But there was one more surprise coming. Thailand always has another surprise. At the end of our fumbling she turned around I saw her back. Again my knees went weak. There on her back in the harsh uncompromising light of a hotel room I was confronted with something I have never ever seen tattooed on a Thai female. There on her upper right shoulder was a large portrait of a Thai face. A young woman's face. Her girlfriend.

She was a lesbian.

nice that you are still alive and well.

I gotta take my hat off to JD. Read some of his old stories and when you consider they are off the top of his head,first draft,two thirds pissed posted at 2am it's not a bad effort.

ttt