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Fat Old Farangs in Vests Ewww

  • Written by Anonymous
  • October 11th, 2012
  • 5 min read




So around mid-2010 my mate and I were sitting outside our hotel in Bangkok and were planning our weekend. Realising we were just going to repeat the drink, girl and bed sequence we decided it would be best to try something different; time to head to Sin City itself – Pattaya.

An interesting side note which was quite humorous was that we were looking at staying in a place where other like-minded youngsters would be and searched the internet – after all we didn’t want to be around the FOFIVE. We then found our place – a hotel with cheap accommodation, girls who often visited and a sports bar beneath where we could watch the rugby, play darts and pool and meet new people as a traveller does. Turns out this place was a freaking brothel! But anyway, it is Sin City and what else can one expect in Sin City?

The usual formula followed: beer, then dinner, more beer and then off to Walking Street to chase some skirt. I met up with a young Swedish lass and although I enjoy my Thai women this was just too good an opportunity to pass up, another flag would be captured – or so I thought. Turns out that when I mentioned I was from South Africa she cooled off a bit, gentleman the biggest cockblocker in the world it turns out is online travel forums which state that 80% of South Africans have HIV. So I ended up with a Thai lass and spent the night enjoying myself as one does in Sin City.

I awoke the next day with one of those rare hangovers where you are fine with feeling like pants because the previous night’s festivities more than made up for it. We found an amazing Scandinavian place that did a mean breakfast – hangover cured! We then had a beer and met some fellow farangs, stunning Aussie lasses who were up for a good time. One of them pointed out the obvious – Look at those “Fat Old Farangs in Vest – EWWWW” she exclaimed. We had a laugh and judged the hell out of these old pigs that were holdings hands with women young enough to be their great granddaughters.

But what struck me was that these guys were happy as hell. Hardly any of them didn’t have a smile on their face and they had that look of satisfaction on their face that men everywhere chase their entire lives. They were HAPPY damnit and they didn’t care if anyone hated, judged or frowned upon them. Firmly ensconced in their happy place the FOFIVE just go about their business they live for each day and drink, eat and screw to their hearts content.

I started thinking about the FOFIVE and began to hate the fact that I was judging people who I did not even know – I was being an ageist!

I thought about my granddad – he was a legend amongst men! A top class rugby player and athlete in his youth he insisted I call him GHOP (grey haired old pig) instead of granddad. He has a top class sense of humour. After my gran died he spent his days at the golf course and with his mates and would have the odd visit from a family member. His mates were like a band of brothers and would gather every Thursday for “Choir Practice” – the wives were pleased but choir practice was a night of heavy drinking. One by one the mates started passing away and there were two of them left. My GHOP had a great life and I was sad to see him go, but what was even sadder was the fact he didn’t seem to be enjoying his last few years of his life. He struck me as lonely; the joy and zest for life he had was basically a memory.

But the FOFIVE don’t whittle away in some old age home. HELL NO! These guys are playing golf, screwing young girls and eating great food every day. They are not whittling away in some old age home watching their friends die one by one they are CHOOSING LIFE!

My GHOP didn’t have one young lass take a second look at him but the FOFIVE have that – even if its not real. The FOFIVE live their life full circle – they start out as kids believing in the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus and they end their lives by believing they are young again and studs! And who the hell are we to judge them?

Should we insist they be “decent” and return home to live in an old age home with infrequent visits from their family? Should we insist that they wear more conservative clothing? Should we insist they find someone their own age? COME ON! Would you want to screw a 75 year old woman if you could get an 18 year old?

The fact is one day we will all be coffin dodgers and that prick death will come looking for us. Do you want to be in some old age home waiting for him or do you want to be inside a 21 year old hottie when he decides to tap on your shoulder?

As Renton said in Trainspotting “CHOOSE LIFE” and that’s what escapes us, THAT is what the FOFIVE have done. They have lived through live, they’ve survived what’s out there and they have earned their right to do whatever the hell they want to do with theirs and thus should be free of our judgement.

I know that if my wife dies before me I will CHOOSE LIFE – I’ll be prancing around with a young lass in my vest with my massive gut popping out. I will see the judging eyes and the note the lack of approval in most social circles. I will be told I’m immature, going through a crisis but I will have that same FOFIVE look on my face – that look of satisfaction knowing that although Death is coming for me any day now I will die with a smile on my face (or a 21 year old hottie).