Seymour Totti’s Foreign Policy

The Safari Bar in Patpong is one of the few bars that has kept its name over the years. I like the Safari Bar. I like the name. The idea of being on a kind of sex safari appeals to a twisted degenerate such as myself.

Of course sitting in the Safari isn’t so much like bagging wild game in the bush, it’s more like shooting ducks in a tub. But who really cares about such niceties when you have a cold beer in one hand and a hot babe, who just happens to be trying to shove her tits in your ear while grabbing you cock, in the other.

I was in the Safari the other night. High season in Bangkok seems to be considerably lower this year and there just weren’t enough customers to go round. Oh goody!

The girl was actually behind pressing her tits into my back, I had my left elbow on the stage where another girl was dancing. The girl on the stage was a real hottie, I’d forgotten what the one behind me looked like but I knew she was alright - and she was squeezing my dick.

Read more »

.
Numerous readers have e-mailed me wondering if Asha Kumara is really Indian. And if I thought not, then where did I think she actually came from.

To be honest, I didn’t give it that much thought at first. She is drop dead gorgeous and I’d happily fuck her from here to Bangalore and back. But the question returned so I thought I’d take another look.

She has shiny black hair and beautiful, dark brown skin that is no doubt scented with exotic perfumes and tastes of the forbidden.

Her back is smooth and her breasts and hips a firm and full. Full too are her lips which are ever ready with a smile, and her dark eyes, one moment impish the next, deep pools of desire in which a man can easily drown.

She looks Indian so far, but that nose, that cute little button that wrinkles with every laugh. That nose that makes me want to gather her in my arms and never let her go. That nose is from Southeast Asia.

I’ve seen people that look like Asha before, they are rare and beautiful indeed. You can find them in Southern Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia. And yes, you can find them in India too, look in the coastal regions of the south.

They are a mix but their lineage goes back many centuries, back to when seafarers from South Asia and the Arabian peninsula first crossed the Indian Ocean to trade fabrics and spices with the peoples of the Malay peninsula.

They met, they mingled and they loved. And happily for us they produced offspring as beautiful as Asha.

See also: An Indian Rose

The knock on from the recent US sub prime market problems that hit Northern Rock among others shows no signs of letting up. In fact it has now badly affected the banking system in Japan.

In the last 7 days Origami Bank has folded, Sumo Bank has gone belly up and Bonsai Bank plans to cutback some of its branches. Yesterday it was announced that Karaoke Bank is up for sale and more than likely will go for a song. Today shares in Kamikaze Bank were suspended after they nose- dived and 500 back-office staff at Karate Bank also got the chop.

Analysts report something fishy going on at Sushi Bank and staff fear they may get a raw deal, meanwhile customers of Bukkake bank are finding it a little hard to swallow.

I mentioned the concept of part-time hookers back in the Gotham East post . Since then I’ve had a couple of e-mails from readers wanting to know more.

I’m sure the practice happens in most places but I first noticed it in Hong Kong. Back in the days when they weren’t so busy US Navy ships used to frequently stop off in Hong Kong for r&r. When they did all the bars on Lockhart Road would open earlier and the number of hookers would increase exponentially.

A good number of them were were just maids and contract workers making hay while the sun shone. In other places I’ve met students who have merely wanted to “practice their English” and at the same time rack up a few dollars to help pay for their course.

One of the more extreme examples of these phenomena happened simultaneously in Bandung. Bandung is a small town Java, Indonesia. A pleasant place and an important university town, though there is little to attract the casual visitor other than the delightful art deco Savoy Homan Hotel.

I’d gone out in search of a beer and ran into a handful of Australian military men. They told me they had just completed some secret joint maneuvers and asked me if I was going to the disco. Disco? I looked out at the dark and deserted street and tried to figure out what was the most improbable; a disco or maneuvers that were secret.

I had nothing better to do so I agreed. There was indeed a disco. It was a discreet affair, you could easily walk past and not notice it. But inside it was heaving.

“Usually this place only opens on a Friday,” they told me “but they knew we’d be here.”

“How come?” I asked, “I thought your mission was secret.”

I didn’t get an answer, they’d already hit the dance floor and were enveloped in a sea of women. I sucked back another beer and organised an intense English language workshop at the Savoy Homan.

The Australians had gone by the following evening and the disco was closed, I left the following morning and my part-time hookers went back to being diligent students.

Talking of movies I was just walking past the Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon towards the Star Ferry and I recalled how, in The Man with the Golden Gun, 007 had exited the Peninsula, took the ferry over to Kowloon side and went into a girlie bar called Bottoms Up.

The fact that Bond, the Peninsula and Bottoms Up were all in Kowloon anyway, indeed Bottoms Up was less than a five minute walk from the hotel, neither shook nor stirred the folks from Hollywood but it gave Hong Kongers a good chuckle

Bottoms up was a curious bar. It consisted of three octagonal rooms. A bar was in the middle of each room and in the middle of bar there was a topless hostess, sometimes times two.

In it’s heyday one of these hostesses would have been a lovely, leggy ebony lady called Velvet. Such exotic creatures were rare in Hong Kong back then and she did very well for herself.

Read more »