How To Marry The Scag-Monkey Girlie-Man Of Your Dreams by Pants Elk

We’ve got this council flat in Staines. It’s a bit dark since they cut the electric off, what with the windows boarded up, but frankly the less I see of her the happier I am. She’s put on a lot of weight on account she can’t get the diet pills, she says. Diet pills my arse. And I’ve run out of Viagra, so what with her fat arse and my limp dick, it’s a good job we can’t see each other if you ask me. I can just hear her snoring. Sometimes I give her a kick, makes no fucking difference, and I wonder what the fuck I’ve done.

It wasn’t always like this. I’d gone to Bankers with me mate, on business nudge-nudge wink-wink, like you do, and it’s no lie, I’d only had about five Changs or nine, in this pub on Nana Soi, soi meaning street, see, and I see this supermodel walk by, and I catch her eye by letting out this belch, to make her laugh, like. And she’s stroking her hair and giving me the eye, but I get that a lot. I’m a pretty fit bloke, used to box a bit in me younger days, keep in shape. Okay, I’ve got a bit of gut on me, but you need a big hammer for a big nail I always say. So anyway, this gorgeous bit of stuff, really classy, sort of saunters by, looking me up and down, and I can tell she’s really juicing up for me. So I kind of gives her me smile, flashing me gold tooth, and she strolls up, and she’s got tits like atomic warheads, gawd knows how they stand up on their own, no bra, this kind of satin evening dress, really classy. And she says, get this, ‒hallo, handsome man!” in this sexy deep voice. What a great line! I never heard this one, so I’m thinking, oy-oy, Craig, we’ve got a smart one here! Brains and beauty, I’ve always been a sucker for that. Like that Gemma in Accounts Receivable. I could of had her. But anyway, this leggy stunner sits on the barstool next to yours truly, and this slit in her dress shows a bit of lace panty. I’d swallowed a couple of blue pills, ‘cos you never know with these Indian bloody chemists, and the old trouser snake (pardon my French, ladies!) is tenting my Camel Active cargo trousers like there’s a war on, and she puts her hand on me crotch, real delicate and ladylike, and gives me a playful squeeze, and it’s love at first sight. She looks at me shirt, it’s a bit sweaty but the girls like that, it’s the phormones, I read about it, and she says ‒same same!” and laughs. I love the way her adam’s apple goes up and down when she laughs. So I twist around a bit so she can read the back, and she laughs again, ‒but different!” It’s just this shirt what I got off the market in Suckumvit Soi, but it appealed to me sense of humour. I’m known as Craig the Comedian back at the office, for the wacky things I say! So anyway, we get to talking, and she’s really an interesting girl, I mean really interesting, you know, to talk to. Apparently she’s got this family back in Nissan, which I thought was a car but it’s a town or something in Thailand, and they got a sick buffalo of all things, it’s like a zoo hospital or something, and her dad has this bad arm so he can’t work. It’s fucking heartbreaking. This young lass (old enough to be my daughter if you know what I mean!) has come out to the Land Of Mango (what they call Bangkok if you’re in the know) to find work. So naturally I’m thinking, oy-oy, I can think of something for you to do sweetheart! So to cut a long story short she agrees to accompany me back to my hotel suite which is a nice family hotel called the PB, only about twenty minutes walk, with Dionne, that’s her name, hanging on me arm and me feeling like the king with all the looks we get. We’d had a few bevvies, her having what she called ‒lady drinks” which was really classy, not like fucking Courtney back in Logistics with her Special Brews, the slag, and Dionne’s tits keep lifting out and I keep pushing them back, and she’d taken off her shoes so I’m carrying them, bloody big shoes, I’m thinking. So we get to me room, falling over somebody sleeping in the corridor, couldn’t find his keys I suppose, and I strips to me Jockeys and sockies and gets into bed while she takes this shower which lasts about an hour or something, and I’m half asleep when she gets in the sack, but she says she’s got the rag on, would I mind fucking her up the old back passage! Would I mind! Oy-oy! So Craigie-boy is doing what he’s famous for, wondering if I should have bought some rubber johnnies while I was in the Seven-Up getting breathmints, but I think, nah, this is a nice clean girl just up from the country, and I slip me hand under her to give the old man in the boat a tickle, and I get the shock of me life. I go limp as a fucking noodle! Dionne, see, has a dick! And I realise she’s what the Thailand people call a girlie-man. So, after a while, I goes into the bathroom and I puke up about a bowlful of Chang, plus some insects I don’t remember eating, and I’m groaning, bent over the bowl like, and bugger me if Dionne doesn’t get behind me and start working her man’s part up me arse! I mean, I should say bugger me if she does, right? Geddit? And she’s saying ‒dark-ling, I lub you long time, I look after you” and I’m beginning to enjoy it, except looking at the insects in the puke in the toilet, so I shuts me eyes and thinks of England, and I will discretely draw a veil over what happened next. Suffice it said that Craigie-boy and Dionne emerged from the PB Bridal Suite as man and very special wife!

Getting her back to the UK was a right hassle, let me tell you. First off, she put ‒anal” where it said ‒sex”, so I had to do the whole thing again for her and slip the bloke a few thou under the counter, I think about forty thousand Bath, which is about twelve quid in English dollars. Then, when we gets back to Staines, me slag wife won’t even let Dionne into the house! This I find is sadly typical of what we call ‒farang” women, which means ‒English nigger” in the Thai language. So I have to traipse up the Council and get a flat, which takes all fucking day before I get the keys and some money off the Social for Dionne to buy another frock, as me ATM card don’t work no more. And we’re only in the place a few days before the local young ‘uns start lobbing bricks through the windows. I mean, Dionne lobs them back, but sometimes it’s not the same window.

So that’s it, really. Me slag wife sold me tools and me Suzy 500 on e-bay, which is like the internet, and I’m stuck here in the dark with Fat Alice who doesn’t even bother to shave her stomach any more. So this is like a warning to all you blokes going out to the Land of Mango for the first time. Don’t forget the rubber johnnies when you get the breathmints! I got this rash, see …

44 thoughts on “How To Marry The Scag-Monkey Girlie-Man Of Your Dreams by Pants Elk”

  1. ‘she put “anal” where it said “sex”‘ – coffee all over my keyboard and people in my office giving me funny looks. comedy gold.

  2. ha bloody ha. i may not be the sharpest tool in the deck, but I got me MBA in Busness management and if I meet this Panties Elk character, well I hope he likes hospital food, if you get me drift.

  3. ab – pants elk is right where he needs to be. here with us at the mango blog. πŸ™‚

  4. One laughed until one wet ones pants –
    As a critic, I often get asked ‘are you going to finish that pie?’
    – But that aside, it is the duty of literary types (like wot I am) to acknowledge genius when it passes one by – as so much does these days. More please.


    As we used to say back in my home town… fan-fucking-tastic!

  6. Bloody priceless P Elk,
    Best laugh I’ve had in a long time.
    Will there be a sequel?

  7. Craig-walker it was pretty funny when you experienced it huh…I swear for some reason, you were the first person I thought of.. humm this can actually happen.. ha!

  8. Brilliant…. A Masterpiece…..Your average BIGTIT (British Isles Gulible Twat In Thailand) wrapped up in one piece.

  9. funny story. like all great authors it is obvious you have researched your subject extensively πŸ™‚

  10. Stephen Leather, eat your heart out! Makes Private Dancer look like a lower-school primer.

  11. I just thought I’d share the great news that Nicolas Cage is to play “Craigie-Boy” in the major motion picture currently in pre-production hell. The part of Dionne (any part) is still up for grabs, but Young Penfold has a strong showreel and “the arse that this role requires” (according to his agent, Quentin Strangelove).
    Cage is jubilant that he’s got the lead. “I know I can bring out the dramatic depth and passions in Craig, as a man and as a person. I have empathy with Bangkok, it’s like a spiritual home for me, and look forward to building the motivation of my character with extensive research and maybe a hairpiece.” When asked if he’d like to work with Young Penfold, he said “Fuck yeah. I’ll work with anyone.”

  12. Another splendid submission from Monsieur Élans de Pantalon.

    I enjoyed this partly because it is a fine pastiche of the Chang vest brigade, lovingly and tenderly teased into a heartbreaking allegory of the loss of innocence inherent in any western man’s first visit to Bangkok, but mostly because it has bum sex in it.

  13. I think it’s a sad day when you have to tell your mates to comment on your blog piece, but thanks anyway, Chubby!

  14. “I think it’s a sad day when you have to tell your mates to comment on your blog piece”

    – Too true Pants. You loser. πŸ˜‰

  15. are we still here with craig whatshisface? Yawn! – move on – get over it – turn the page….

  16. Yes, I am a sad loser, but consider this; in a private email, BBB tells me that YP is co-piloting a white van around Hemel. Not even driving, just sitting in the passenger seat with a copy of The Sun and a pot noodle in his lap, leering at the girls with his elbow out the window while they make cash-in-hand deliveries of something-or-other. How the mighty have fallen.

  17. It’s true. YP is not driving. Not until they develop a ‘hands-free kit’ for wanking yourself silly.


  18. I had better keep my windows wound up then – in fact, come to think of it I passed a white van a couple days ago just as a bird shat on my windscreen – or did it?

  19. @Elk – Mighty have fallen? Fallen from what exactly? My last week in BKK varied from waking up in my apartment with my apartment door open and me spread eagled on the tile floor fuck-ass naked, to me crying at the kings anthem @ the cinema, to me getting headbutted by a german man in a khaftan on Sukhumvit. If i got any lower id need to dig ahole

    This week Ive been promoted to driver (despite having no licence) so have been ‘thrashing the tranny round’ which isnt too far from my daily ritual in the city of sin.
    Ive also been given a ‘gofor’ assistant who i insist calls me ‘gaffer’
    He has the duty of holding/mixing my protein shakes, changing my classic soul CDs, applying wax to my new ‘fashion mullet’ as n when required, holding me close and telling me ‘everything will be allright’ and enduring hours of tales of soapies, the time i got drugged and woke up with 3000baht extra in my pocket, and the legend of the tight fisted c^nt BBB

    The poor fucker is only 16. Dont think he’ll be back monday morning

    I HAVE however been planning my return. On January 10, Im gonna have a ‘ring the bell’ night at the Mango. Anyone who punches BBB in the epiglotis and successfully floors him will be rewarded with me ringing the bell. Anyone brave/dumb enough to shake my ‘hampton wick’ in a bell ringing fashion, will also be rewarded with me ringing the bell.
    Im also open to suggestions for the festivities……….

  20. Penfers, “thrashing the tranny round” was perfect.

    As a figure of speech, I mean. There’s nothing funny about me.

    And I’m not that tight fisted – I bought WW a beer on Blogger’s Night, after he bellowed “why don’t you buy me a fucking beer” in my ear. I’m not entirely sure he noticed though.

  21. We’re all REALLY looking forward to you getting your “new job”, BBB. Either that or a paycheck from the old one.

  22. So basically we have nothing but 3B’s word for it that he “bought you a drink”. Hmmm …

  23. So the problem seems not to be my purported stinginess, but rather the chronic alcoholism and subsequent amnesia of those I buy drinks for.

    I’m buying a round of black coffee next time.

  24. Er, no. We’ll gloss over your use of the term “those”, implying – ludicrously – that you’re in the habit of standing rounds for your mates, in the plural, and move on to what the “problem” is. The individual you claim to have “bought a drink” for – excuse me – something caught in my throat – I’m all right now – was too baked to remember either asking for or receiving said beverage. It’s not that I, nor the Bangkok drinking community as a whole, is calling you a fucking liar. Well, okay, it is that, actually.

  25. Wow! What a great idea! let me the first to get this ball rolling! I’d like to see you and your sister get naked and then put your clothes back on again, only the wrong way round. Then I’d like to see you bunny-hop on and off the couch, that would be neat … and then … that’s about it! Hope I’m the lucky winner! I sure look forward to other guys out there offering thie suggestions so the comment count reaches something like a hundred or so, which will surely be out of reach for Bangkok Bad Boy’s already over-rated “Breakfast” piece!

  26. I am pretty sure I was around when BBB bought that said beer and I am pretty sure I can always remember WW being too drunk to probably know that it even happened.

    so there…

  27. “I am pretty sure I was around …”

    Conjecture and hearsay. I cannot accept this as evidence of the alleged transaction. I appreciate your standing up for the guy, though.

    Hey – are we at a hundred comments yet?

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