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I was out at my mate's club last week with a few of the lads. Somchai pointed out some posh tart who looked totally off her head. Her pals scattered when I suggested a urine test. Upstairs in the manager's office, I almost felt sorry for her. "You're a very lucky girl", I said "if I was on duty, you'd be in real trouble." She was an absolute stunner but had a twat like a steel trap. Switch to plan B, I thought. Nothing beats a blow-job off a crying girl, heh heh.

Though good novelty value, she didn't quite hit the spot so I decided to nip over to my mia noi's place for a proper ride. I've just sorted her out with a new Volvo, so I need to get my money's worth. As I left the club, I saw Somchai going up for sloppy seconds - the dirty bastard.

I've never met a virgin in this town before. Its like winning the fucking lottery. Speaking of which, I nearly forgot about Lek who runs the gambling club. It's tea-money day and the payment on my fucking Benz is due. One call on the moby and it's all sorted.

This afternoon, I was playing snooker with Somchai. He'd been on the Chivas all day and was totally shit-faced. It goes without saying that I cleaned the fucker out. "Your credit's no good here", I said "go upstairs and get yourself a wad." The club is in the basement of an apartment building full of hookers and other low-life. They are good neighbours in the sense that they are always ripe for a shake-down. My boss owns the building, so no worries on that score. Somchai got to his feet. "Hang on" I said, reaching for my pills. "If you get any lip, just plant a couple of these." "Don't worry," he replied "I've got plenty".

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Just before he got back, I took a call from the station. Apparently, another crew was moving drugs though our patch. The cheeky fuckers hadn't asked our permission. "If they're army," I said "we should play it cool. I don't want another fucking shoot-out."

I needed to get back anyway. The lads were due their share from the mini-van racket. Just call me Father fucking Christmas. I let Somchai drive.

Just as I was cutting a couple of lines of posh, the bloody phone went again. It was the fucking wife and I hadn't been home in days. After giving me the usual earful, she said that the kids had been throwing stones at the chandelier again. "Just shove them in the fucking swimming pool" I told her. If her arse wasn't as big as our new house, then I might go back there more often.

After sorting out the lads, I went for a quick sniff around the front desk. It was bad timing because some stupid farang walked straight in. A hooker had nicked his stuff. "Blah blah blah blah blah fucking blah," he went on. How many times have I had to listen to this shit? "It's out of our jurisdiction" I said. "But my hotel is just across the street" he whined. "Try Lumpini" I said. He should have called the Tourist Police but I've got better things to do than nurse-maid this arsehole.

I'm looking for someone to drive me to Poseidon for a soapy tit-fuck but, since I dished out the loot, this place looks like the Mary fucking Celeste. Sometimes I think I'm the only bugger who does any work around here.

Sawatdee krap

[Posted to Fiction by David]

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