A Tour of South East Asia, Part 4

15th Thursday, the very wee hours, Bangkok

As I walked down the Sukhumvit with my freak show, as I said in Part 3, I had the narrative of a joke I heard once, featuring a midget, a topless go-girl and a donkey. I still couldn’t remember the punch line, had thrown a pregnant woman in for the hell of it, and now only needed to find a donkey.

Because both freelancers were small I put forward the insultingly low negotiating position of 500 baht for two; long time, including anal, smoke and bare-back – all of which was eagerly accepted. Jane, an old friend from the Rio, would cost a bit more, but she always earned her money. Back in my room we drank a lot of beer – lack of a bottle opener did not deter Natjang (the tiny one) who opened them in her teeth (a trick I have not performed for years), while Lee (the small one expecting a smaller one), was also useful – after we had emptied the fridge of Singh beer, she made frequent trips to the 7-Eleven. Drinking so much beer means that in the morning I need to find clues from the night before; pubic hair stuck in my teeth, a lump in my throat with the string hanging outta my mouth means it can't have been a bad one. And when the red river's flowin', I take the dirt road. Though fortunately, not tonight.

Just before the noon check-out, as the staff banged on my door, my ass was still going like a fiddler’s elbow in a gale. I was busy taking liberties with my camera and making porn movies. We had stopped briefly to eat at Foodland. They said they had a problem eating breakfast at the nearby Beer Garden because they had once been thrown out. I said, ‘Who do you think you are – me?’

Natjang and Jane drank a lot of beer and Lee ate a lot of food (eating for two). Although they were dutiful to my needs and carried out my instructions obediently, there was little input of innovation and self-expression from the two smaller ladies; anyway, you don’t want women thinking too much for themselves. That’s dangerous.

I have spent too much time watching midgets on ‘Clip hunter’ and had in my mind; ‘Why don’t I try a lay like that myself some day?’ I know I should get out more, but the streets of London are no longer gilded or gentle on the contemporary monger.

When sneaked a look at Natjang’s ID (a photocopy) while she was showering, I found she was born in 2520 – so she is 38! That is the same as her weight in kilos – probably on the heavy side for her height, which was 135 cm; no more than 4’5” – she came to about an inch below my nipples (which I know, and don’t remember why I know, are 4’6” from the ground). When she put on one of my t-shirts it was as if she was wearing long dress. And yet, Natjang is not a dwarf or midget in Thailand, although by far the smallest women I’ve had the pleasure of. Or rather, as we will see below, did not have the pleasure of. In the West, ‘A person of restricted growth’ is defined as being less than 4’9”, according to a reliable on-line encyclopaedia. (TIT – there are no evasive euphemisms allowed in this kingdom, she would be a midget if she wasn't so tall).

And Natjang is a would-be midget all over; KY and the encouragement of all participants did not help. She complained about me being too big. I said (blushing), ‘No one has ever said that before, – but then I realised, at least in relative terms, IT WAS ME that was the missing donkey in the narrative of this buffoonery!

And, by the way, I found that Lee was not even pregnant! Not unless she had been shagged by Mr Kippling. When I asked her when the baby was due (I would have guessed a month at the most) she explained she was just a bit fat. A bit! It was an embarrassing moment – but she wasn’t part of my original ramble anyway.

By the next morning I was 10,000 baht down, mainly due to the vast quantities of beer we had put back, and I was generous with the freelancers, giving them each a 500, instead of the promised 500 between them. I secretly put a couple of thousand in Jane’s purse. At times, I can be a generous fucker.

So the narrative of my joke did not come off. The midget was just a smallish woman in this part of the world, the topless go-go had no tits, the pregnant woman was fat, and as for the donkey, well he has the ears for woman to hold on to in rodeo sex, but that is where the personification ends. When I trawled Google I found two versions of the missing punch-line. Neither are funny, but both are presented for the sake of concluding this sorry tale at a suitably felicitous nadir:

1. A midget, a topless go-go girl, and a donkey walk into a bar.

The bartender looks at them and asks, "Is this some kind of joke?"

2. A midget, a topless go-go girl and a donkey walk into a bar.

"Ow!"

"Ow!"

"He-haw!"

Apologies are in order. My mind was throbbing as much as my dick trying to remember the climax of that gag. Gag? Climax? The opportunities for innuendo could be hilarious. (If you care to, cut this out Stick – it will still just about make the 800 word minimum).