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Bangkok Is Bursting At The Seams With Henpecked Pussies



From older sex tourists being ordered about on Sukhumvit Road by their two thousand baht a night trollop to professional expat types being barked at in Paragon by their wannabe hi-so trophy wife, Bangkok seems to be bursting at the seems with henpecked pussies who have the cheek to call themselves men.

Out and about in the real world, talking with friends and reading social media updates from strangers has led me to believe most men have had their balls cut off and stored in a jar on the top shelf of a kitchen cupboard by their better halves transforming them into lap dogs, gofers and yes-men.

It’s embarrassing to see, hear and read.

Bangkok Is Bursting At The Seams With Henpecked Pussies

My foreign neighbours wife rules the roost and she who must be obeyed is. He is European, mid 40’s, two luk khrueng kids and a once pretty girlfriend has morphed into the devil making his life a living hell.

Off to work he goes at 7am while her indoors snacks and shops all day long. The maid cleans and the nanny cares for the kids. When he returns home at 6pm he cooks dinner. People, I kid you not, this is the life he has carved out for himself and no matter how much bitching and moaning he does, he only has to look in the mirror to find the person to blame.

I’m sure many reading this will be saying to themselves, “No way, not me”, yet they will be the same ones getting their arses dragged from mall to mall, weekend after weekend when they should be kicking back with the boys watching the game, shooting the breeze and sinking a few cold ones after a week of work but don’t have the cajones to tell their missus they have other plans and so off they go like little sheep dog, doing what they are told, when they are told.

henpecked husband

Now as far as I’m concerned you pay hookers for sex, not to humiliate you in public, unless it’s a fetish far more popular than I’m unaware of but I’ve lost count of the times I’ve seen older guys being berated and belittled in the middle of Sukhumvit like a naughty schoolboy by a bargirl half their age.

This tells me they need to go and have their head checked as nobody in their right mind would be seen dead in the same situation in their own country. What makes these pussy-whipped sexpats think it’s okay here? They just look like the idiots they are for allowing that sort of bs to happen.

And then you have guys who sit on their phone half the night telling their girlfriend where they are, what they’re drinking, what they’re talking about, what they’re looking at in the pub, when they go for a pee… jeez, why not just bring her with you so she can watch your every move? Oh, that’s right, she doesn’t have to do that as she video calls every hour to check they are telling the truth.

If she doesn’t trust you to go meet your mates for a pint, what’s the point being together?

im not henpecked

Maybe it’s me. Maybe I have got this all wrong.

When my other half says she is going shopping or some other shit I don’t want to do, I ask her does she have enough cash and tell her to have a good time, I’ll see her when she gets back. If she needs a hand with the anything call me when she is downstairs and I’ll come carry whatever crap she’s bought up the stairs.

As for me going out, well, I tell her where I’m going and usually who I’m off to meet and that’s about it. If I know I’m going to be home early then I’ll say so, otherwise it’s take care with a peck on the cheek.

No phone calls, no sms, no Line, no nothing. If I’m going to be late I’ll message and let her know. End of. No questions, no inquisition the following day, no nothing.

When she goes out it’s exactly the same.

The only time my missus used to moan was if I’d go out on the lash and borrow her money to do it or she thinks I’ve blown 20k on a bender. That is when the silent treatment kicked in and she went on temporary strike.

The no talking suits me fine, and feeding myself is a mere click of the mouse. She never keeps it up and seldom happens as I quickly learned not to ask her for beer money.

Then again, as I think about all this as I read what I’ve typed above, maybe this is what western guys are used to and expect. My brother-in-law handed his balls to my sister the day they got married and she’s been wearing the trousers in that relationship ever since. She says jump, he asks how high.

Stickboy aka Sticky Boy aka Mike McKay aka Mike McKwai, Wild Mike, Magic Mike, Mr Mike, and a fair few more best forgotten, is a party animal with hollow legs who loves music, current affairs, beer, food, causing trouble on Twitter, and making the most of life without worrying too much about what people think or say about his antics. You can send him stuff here -

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Tales From The Front: Sunday Dinner On A Saturday Night



Stickboy, Fatface, and The Keeper are sat in a British pub on lower Sukhumvit on a Saturday night…

A gathering of the clan earlier in the evening for some birthday beers meant Stickboy’s belly needed filling before meeting back up with everyone who had gone in different directions ahead of the cake cutting ceremony at Lighthouse sometime around 10pm.

Somchai The Dog had popped in for a couple of shandies but was looking like a burst couch and was having none of it ordering takeout before disappearing into the dark Bang Na bound on the BTS.

The other half of the Dangerous Duo, Digiman, wasn’t ready for home just yet but had no interest in food.

The Keeper orders quesadillas while smooth-talking his missus, girlfriend or gik – maybe all three – and wasn’t paying attention to much as Fatface orders Chips & Curry sauce for Stickboy.

sunday roast on a saturday night

The food arrives, everyone digs in, more beer is ordered to wash down the grub as all four eat what’s sat on the table.

The Keeper is still on the phone like an old sweetie wife and starts making space on the table with his free hand when a waitress arrives over his shoulder with another plate of food.

He clears a space in front of Fatface and Stickboy who look at each other thinking that’s an odd place to put a roast dinner they both think The Keeper has ordered for himself.

He ends his call and tucks into the roast pork telling everyone to help themselves which they do.

Chips are in the gravy, potatoes are in the curry sauce and the plate is emptying at a fair pace as four mouths feast on the Sunday dinner.

More than halfway through the food a member of the service staff appears and starts talking to The Keeper with Fatface joining in.

Something is amiss.

“Hey Stickboy, did you order the pork roast?”, enquires The Keeper.

“No mate, I thought you did.”

In his best Shaggy voice, he fires back, “It wasn’t me”.

It turns out some poor bloke sat at the bar was sitting patiently waiting on his dinner the staff had wrongly delivered that the four scavengers had all but demolished each of them thinking someone else at the table fancied a Sunday dinner on a Saturday night.

sunday roast on a saturday night

The four grubbers thought this was hilarious and all just shrugged their shoulders laughing having told the service staff to take it away… until Stickboy’s bin arrived with a Roast Pork Loin at 295 baht on it.

He wasn’t laughing any more.

Had it not been for the fact his mates own the pub he’d likely have upset the waitresses with a few choice words having been billed for something he didn’t order with zero conversation between staff and customer over what was a genuine mistake on the part of everyone involved.

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Trump, #Thighland And Dinesh The Dick




I don’t care much for America, its president or politics but when my Twitter timeline is drowning in Trump making a tit of himself by pronouncing Thailand as Thighland then I’m interested.

I’ve no idea what Don was waffling on about when he mentioned Thighland and Vietnam or how chummy he was with their leaders and it’s not that important.

Nor is Trump making a clown of himself anything new from what I recall of him from years back when he faced opposition to his golf course in Scotland, the man is an idiot.

Here’s Scottish radio presenter Robin Galloway pranking him on a call.

Anyway, back to #Thighland…

Okay, he did correct himself straight away but come on, this is the head honcho of Arm-erica. You’d think he could manage to pronounce Thailand properly, yeah?

Well, apparently he did according to some dick called Dinesh who made a complete fool of himself to his 1.2 million Twitter followers and everyone else who pointed out to him that he was wrong.

dinesh 1


dinesh 2

“Tai-land” is the crude lingo of people who have never been to “Thighland”… including generations of Thais?

Notice how he retweets himself – does he think the more he repeats himself and the more people read it that makes him correct?

Remember, this cockwomble has 1.2 million followers.

dinesh 3

Err, nope.

dinesh 4

dinesh 5

Oh, is Dinesh the dick doing a spot of back peddling here?

dinesh 6

Of course he isn’t

A guy like this could never admit he got it wrong. Even if he was arguing black was white.

Thousands of Thai people replied to his Tweets correcting him and he chose to ignore each and every one of them instead he decided to belittle others who pointed out his mistake.

Finally, here’s the man himself from 2002.

Dinish is now a fully-fledged member of the #TwitterTossers club.

Hat Tip to femalefaust who was behind unearthing Dinesh The Dick pronouncing “Thailand” as “Thailand” and not “#Thighland”.

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Easy Does It This Weekend



Puffed Out

This weekend is a 4-day holiday in Thailand and normally I’d work through it and take some time off afterwards but with things so quiet on all fronts I decided to join the masses and take a couple of days off.

Updates will resume once I have slept myself silly and recharged my batteries.

I don’t plan on doing much of anything or going anywhere so I will still add a few updates on social media to pass the time as they don’t require much brainpower or thinking.

Whatever you are doing, be it the beach or boozing, maybe both, enjoy yourself and have fun.

See you on the other side.

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