What’s up mingemongers and moneyhoneys, my name’s Seven and this is what I found in my phone’s notepad at the end of the week…
“Blue” has a lot of meanings in the English language. It’s a color, and it’s an adjective. It can mean “sad,” as in “I’m feeling blue today.” It can also mean “bawdy,” as in “That comedian’s material is quite blue.” And it can refer to the hue of one’s balls when sex doesn’t come as often as it should. On Sunday I schlepped to Bangkok to visit a few of my old concubines and to check out the redlight scene. I was supposed to stay for four nights, but bailed early, on account of a “blue” disposition. Here’s what went down…
These days I get the minibus from South Pattaya Road. 160b and it takes over three hours because they stop multiple times along the way. The bus leaves every hour on the half. I meant to catch the 9:30 but got stuck taking a long dump and missed it. The 10:30 departed 30 minutes late with four loud haka-lakas on board. Half an hour into the trip, the driver began looking for a petrol station to fuel-up. He passed by several that had fairly long queues, thanks to the war in Iran, and found one station with no one waiting, and no wonder as they were tapped out of diesel. I began to think I might get stranded in Sriracha. After stopping twice more at different stations we finally filled up and rolled into Ekkamai at 14.40. I was shaved and showered by 15.30 and BK conc number 3 was in my bed by 16.00. 20 minutes later she was off home, and 10 minutes after that she messaged to borrow more money, and suddenly I remembered why I left Bangkok. This city is a money suck. At 20.20 I had a mini Liga and b ruskie outside King’s Castle 1 in Patpong. That cocktail was 230b. Pricey, this town. Whilst perusing the tourists in the Night Market, it struck me that they shockingly tended to be a tad scuzzier than Ptown’s current crop of cunts. Maybe it’s just because it was the Pong, but the majority were dressed-down, and looked wilted at the edges. Maybe Patpong is where folks go the night before they fly home, after spending two weeks on Phi Phi or Phuket. Whatever the reason, they gave off a lowbrow vibe. Even the Chinese triads seemed like “discount” mafiosos. The only ones who acted above their station were the whites. A large contingent of farang do travel this world while putting on airs. They think they’re special because they got on a plane and left the US like it’s some great feat. It’s fucking annoying. Even when I was the most famous whoremonger in Patpong, I knew it wasn’t a reason to puff my chest out. Neither the widespread respect among Thais nor the name recognition among the girls made me think I was better than anyone else. That knowledge comes from my higher-than-average IQ. But even then, I’d only say that to you guys. The only time my conceit comes out is through open disgust of tourists. But that’s because they are all perfectly awful.
Now that I’m an acclimated Pattayan, it’s hard to hit the redlight in the absence of a sea breeze. Fuck me, but it’s sweltering. Just smoking the stogie was mild torture. King’s 1 was blessedly cool, though with a too-chunky rota for my taste. Pim came to sit for a spell, and I rested my hand inside the front of her bikini bottoms. The skinny rota were scattered around the room and wriggling on the laps of Sino and Nipon customers. Among them were a few of the sleek, soft, beautiful girls one expects to see in the BK redlight. King’s 3 had two rotas of four each, and if that sounds sparse, it’s because it is. Sundays are typically slow in the Pong. And you might say, “Still, those are paltry numbers” and you’d be right. Talk among locals is, Bangkok’s reign as the king of the nightlife is fading, while at the same time Pattaya is growing in prowess. There’s also an economical component. A monger’s money just goes further in Ptown. Whatever the combination of contributing factors, BK doesn’t seem to have the numbers of hotties that used to adorn these neon habitats. Across from me, an elderly farang with dyed-black hair pawed at a dancer while whispering in her ear. She kept shaking her head and holding up her hand in the international sign of “Not gonna do that.” A 6 gave me the hungry eye from the stage, while an Asian customer behind me breathed kimchi breath on the back of my neck that was so bad I had to bail. King’s Corner had two 9s in each rotation. A mamasan approached, not to say hello, but to ask for dinner money. Another reminder of the price of living here.
I can only describe the first rota in Virgin as “aggressively chunky.” I spotted only one familiar face. The dyed-black hair dude from K3 was in there, chatting up a girl who seemed much more willing to do whatever his nefarious whispers suggested. He busied himself trying to jam his fingers in her cooch while a mixture of pain and embarrassment crossed her face. Also in Virgin was a fellow Patpong local who’s been going there as long or longer than I did. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town?” he asked. I didn’t want to say that he never even crossed my mind, or that I don’t come to Bangkok to hang out with dudes so I just said “Oh, it was really last-minute.” The second rota was no less chunked, and I suddenly realized I didn’t want to be in Patpong anymore. It was a bad omen for the trip, as Cowboy turned to shit years ago, and Nana is just “meh” these days. My only hope of coming out on top rested on the shoulders of the other old concubines that were scheduled to come to my hotel.
Day two was for oldconc number 2. She was splendiferous. For many months, she wasn’t sleeping with anyone else and so her vagine got tight enough that banging her became torture for the poor gal. Thankfully, she got herself a Thai boyfriend so now at least I can rail her without worrying that I’m ruining her insides. After she bailed, I Bolted to Cowboy and into Hot Lips to say hello to Captain Hornbag, but it was his day off. They had two rotas of six with two 9s among them.
Cowboy was deader than a doornail. The girls were as hungry as I’d ever seen them. Hungrier than during the 2010 military coup. Drink prices are in low orbit these days…200b for a SML.
I popped in to see Bee in Rainbow but my bad luck again, she was off. Our mutual friend, a chickie whose name I can’t recall but whom I bought many dinners for back when she danced at The Strip was there. She ran up and gave me a hug. “You look so good,” I told her, because compared to the last time I saw her, she must’ve discovered jazzercise or something. She was easily 10 kilos slimmer.
Then it was Long Gun for a crowded stage of chunks plus two hotties. They all had the hungry eye, and a trio chose to flirt with me from the stage, not realizing I ain’t no tourist, and no amount of preening will sway me. I slid into Baccara because I wanted to compare it to the one on Walking Street. If the party in Ptown’s is an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10, then Cowboy’s is a 3, and chunked out like nobody’s business.
Then I sped to Nana and parked on the Lollipop terrace to chew the fat with Candyman for a spell. He’s a good guy to talk to for the lowdown in the Plaza, and he filled me in on the goings on. He said it’s been steadily busy, and looking round at the crowd it was evident that Nana is still the redlight winner in Bangkok. And no wonder, what with Cowboy and Patpong both looking like shit. And yet, the numbers were paltry compared to what I’m used to seeing on The 6, LK, and WS. But anyone who works in Nana has nothing to worry about. Their jobs are secure.
Then I hit Twister, one of the few gogos where skinnies still outnumber the chunkers. Nana drink prices haven’t gone up, as far as I can tell. I guess it’s a perk of being the best relight in BK, though that ain’t a thing to brag about these days. My harem is better than that.
Then I hit Angelwitch to chat with Joey D. He’s having a birthday party in the bar on the 30th so if you’re in town, I recommend popping in. It’s going to be a riot. There were two skinnies in each rota, which I found surprising for the Ole ‘witch, on account of their reputation for chubs, even before it was the norm.
I swung into Billboard but there were no seats so I flipped to Butterflies. Like Billboard, every dancer in there is pushing 40. In fact, it’s a thing I noted redlight-wide in Bangkok. They’re not attracting fresh blood. Everyone is late 20s to late 30s. Meanwhile, all the youngsters are heading to Ptown.
The drinks in Nana ranged from 165 (Twister) to 180 (Angelwitch) with 170 (Butterflies) in between. Only Red Dragon had the audacity to charge 200, but then they backed it up with two rotas of superhot clunge.
My takeaway from this trip to the Big Mango was, it’s a bust. I never want to set foot in Patpong again after being its cheerleader and number one fan from 2011 to 2025. The lingering vibe there now is one of languishing despair and there’s no hope of recovery or resurgence. It’s sputtering along in v-fib, just waiting to code. Similarly, Soi Cowboy is a parody of itself. It was always overpriced, but that could be forgiven when the girls were the hottest in all of Thailand. Today it’s a collection of 99% mutants, yet the prices remain high. Nana is a model for how to take a good thing like chicks dancing in lingerie and ruin it with heavy-handed security and no creative vision. That said though, any of these redlights could regain glory status if they could find a way to attract hot pole dancers. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only x-factor.
Here’s the hard truth: while expats’ pensions haven’t increased, the price of punting in Bangkok has exploded, leaving us locals behind in favor of one-week millionaires, the Chinese triad, and the yakuza. We old-timers have been priced out of the nightlife. Ironically, the BK venues I visited were rammed with young, broke, white douchebags. And good for them that they don’t know they missed BK’s heyday. For those of us who saw better days, it’s agony. But these stupid rubes are having the time of their lives. I envy their naivete. I only felt depressed.
As a matter of fact, I was so bored with Bangkok that when an oldconc flaked on my last scheduled day, I packed up, checked out, and went back to Ptown early. This set off a series of blunders, the first being my choice of departure time. I got on the BTS at Chong Nonsi around 16.30 which had me at Ekkamai at 17.00. But then I got the slow bus, and they couldn’t fill the seats so the driver sat at the intersection yelling at pedestrians to get on and go to Pattaya. He did that for 35 minutes so by the time we took off, Sukhumvit was gridlocked. What would’ve taken 20 minutes in free-flowing traffic took over an hour. The lesson is, leaving at 16.40 or 18.00 has the same result. And once again, the dude stopped for gas. Two scrawny Nipons scurried to the toilet. One returned while the other stayed in there for an eternity. Eventually the driver shouted at his friend to go get him. By then the traffic was even worse. All together, it took 3 hours and 40 minutes to get home. And yet, after all that, I’m still planning a trip back to BK in a couple of weeks, for two main reasons. One—oldconc number 1 wants to bang, and two—Songkran in Pattaya is a fucking nightmare from which I must escape.
For any old Members who miss my photo albums, or for anyone wanting an eyeful of redlight content, it’s been brought to my attention that the link to Members Only Content on my homepage is broken. Bear with me while I try to fix it, though fair warning—I’m internet retarded, so it might take a while.
And that’s all the monger that’s fit to ponder for now, friends. Sorry for all the typos. I didn’t proofread. Check back next Sunday for another summary of this redlight life. In the meantime, you can read more Bangkok-centric stuff on my Substack: https://bangkokseven.substack.com/ and I promise to post new stuff over there soon.
Slideshows from previous blogs and the redlight scene going back several years can be found at https://www.youtube.com/c/BangkokSeven
My buddy Jack and I host a growing Facebook community with lots of nightlife-related content at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/thaiagogo
and I’ve got a small but robust group of pervs posting photos daily at a group called Super Hot Asians here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/374120690195407
Follow me on Twitter/X @BangkokSeven for daily monger material, along with these other profiles that’re chock full of photos of hotties:
@superhotthais
@BangkokNightli2
If you’re feeling generous, you can leave a tip on any of the above X profiles. All proceeds will go to creating more redlight content.
And until next time fellow beach Bukowskis and Bathshebas, keep your balls (or tits) warm, your beer cold, and cheers to another week above ground in the greatest country on Earth: Thailand.
Pro Tip Post-Script: Some days ago, two gogo dancers from one of Nana’s Rainbows died of Fentanyl ODs. Locals think it’s being kept under wraps intentionally, but my take is, nobody in Thailand even knows there’s a Fentanyl problem. Four of my gogo friends have died from drugs in the past three years. The doctors all thought it was yaba. I’m convinced there’s Fentanyl in every drug that’s been trafficked into Thailand. No matter what you take to get rolling, you’re ingesting at least some amount of Fentanyl. It’s going to kill hundreds if not thousands of nightlife workers before the govt even realizes what’s happening.
