Since I’ve been away I’ve been relatively well behaved with the ole’ bevvy and trouble and the likes but the last couple of days I’ve had a wee hankering for a bit of patter so I set about finding some.
First we went to a place called the Reggae bar, which has a boxing ring in the middle of the bar, and really cheap booze filled buckets. I didn’t go there with the intention of fighting as I had already had a fight the week before but after a bucket or two a scrap was on the cards. A wee guy, who we’ll call Jimmy (as everyone is called in Thailand) walks around with a big sign that asks for fighters to come up, if they do they get a free bucket. I was pretty into the idea of a free bucket as we were getting a bit worried about cash so I thought I’d give it another bash.
My opponent, to my surprise was around the same height as me (so he’s the one!) which suited me fine as tall people with a much bigger reach punching down on you does nowt for your beauty, or your confidence. I asked him if he was a boxer and he told me he wasn’t. You see a lot of guys fighting up there that really take it seriously and most of them are in Thailand to train at the Muay Thai Gyms with the best in the world, Tong Po and all that. So, he tells me he doesn’t box, which may have been true, he didn’t speak a lot of English but then he started warming up doing high kicks well above his head height. I found out from his pal that he was a Karate instructor in France so I got a bit worried but didn’t want to give too much away. Around 10 years ago I studied Tae Kwon Do and got to a really good competitive level at it but 10 years caning it with the best in the business seriously degrades your skill, stamina and confidence to fight a French Karate expert.
I kept it quiet and tried to stretch my legs as best I could under the table so I could at least kick him in the head then we were called to the ring. They play Eye of the Tiger and The Final Countdown when you’re getting in the ring and between the rounds so I hammed it up a bit and did a wee dance in my Thai Boxing shorts which surprisingly got a good round of applause from the audience, I’m a wee dick.
The last time the bell rang for the first round the guy I was fighting came out like a whippet on eccies so this time I wanted to come out fighting. To my surprise I landed 2 head kicks straight away and the rest of the fight went really well. My balance isn’t what it used to be but the Frenchie got a kicking. I was pretty pleased, 2 out of 2 but I can almost guarantee I’m gonna get my teeth knocked out by a Russian Mafia Don or a pre op transsexual with an attitude problem next time I decide to go up.
I spent the next day taking some photographs, which was quite fun, if not a bit lonely. I spent at least half an hour chasing a dragonfly trying to get a good picture of it in flight. I managed to get a few but I realize that I don’t really have the equipment for it so the results aren’t exactly up to national Geographic standards. Another thing I notice from walking around this Island all day and night is that there are only about 5 bloody songs on repeat in every bar, club or restaurant. This can get a bit grating after an hour. I also decided to get myself a wee haircut so found a guy we’ll call Jimmy Barber who was pretty much the best barber I’ve ever seen and would put anyone in the UK to shame. He gave me the exact haircut I wanted, a shave, a massage and cracked my neck, which had been giving me hassle for a wee while…all for 4 pounds! I highly recommend him
That night we went for dinner with my better half, where we met a couple of nice English girls who had just arrived on the Island so we took them out to some of the good spots.
I don’t really know what got into me, apart from buckets of course! I also had a day of boredom while Holly was diving which won’t have helped matters. We went to some beach bar called Slinky’s and there was a policeman with a gun keeping an eye on things.
I deemed it a good idea to stand behind him making ‘gun gestures’ with my fingers to the back of his head and the like. As if that wasn’t bad enough…some burly Dutch guy with his shirt off and some UV paint on him started hitting on the English girls and I thought it would be a good idea to start hitting on him!
He tried to shake my hand and I obviously refused and went for the more refined gesture of getting him to kiss my hand. As you can imagine he wasn’t really up for it so I proceeded to plant a wee smacker on his cheek. Holly and the other English girls feigned lesbianism to detract attention from themselves while I kept up the camp pretense and claimed his prey as my little sister, forbidden fruit of course…but I assured him that my cherry was fair game. Half way through the charade I forgot to keep up the gay tone to my voice and went to my usual Scottish accent and he caught on to the fact that I was taking the piss. For some inexplicable reason…one of those things that only happens when you are extremely inebriated we ended up standing on top of a fucking table and arguing! He was a good foot taller than me and the pair of us were well above the rest of the crowd so we must have looked ridiculous squaring up on top of a table while an armed policeman was prowling the bar. Somehow, I managed to get away with it and didn’t get my head kicked in from this Beowulf meets Victorian bare knuckle boxer sleazeball and we moved on from the bar.
On the way home, I must have had a look about me that attracted trouble and another foreign guy gave some comment about my wife’s derrière and I obviously couldn’t let that one lie either. I stopped and spoke to him and stated quite simply, in my mind at least…that I wouldn’t batter him as long as he let me tap him on the head with my packet of sweets (kinda like a packet of fruitella) and that would be it, just a wee tap.
As one can surely imagine he didn’t like the sound of this but I gave it a bash like any Glaswegian would and my arm was promptly batted away. I tried twice and finally thrice then commented to the girls he was with that he must have been scared of a wee packet of sweets. They laughed at him, he got embarrassed and instead of beating me up he said another very rude comment about my wife so I threw the whole packet at his head. I don’t think I actually hit him and I’m almost certain that I hit one of the girls. The stars must have been in perfect alignment or the Buddha’s luck was shining on me because we simply just walked away and that was that! Wan tae me!
When we got back to the room Holly went for a shower and I was still in the mood for a patter so I barged in and took a pee on her. Not the best or most, genial thing to do to your wife but it was funny to me at least. As any guy will tell you, when you start pissing it’s real hard to stop so Holly is screaming and pushing me away while I’m getting soaked by the shower while I’m fully clothed and pissing all over the whole bathroom while laughing my head off and pee streaming out of me like some 90’s Mr. Bean sketch
Holly commented that the hot pee mixed with the cold shower water was the worst part, but for me it was the fact that my wallet, my I-Phone and my Thai Phone were in my pockets and were now covered in water and piss.
Still, it was a good laugh regardless.
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