‘Sup reader, how’s your life goin’? Personally, I’m in a quandary. A pickle, as it were. Like a ship trapped between the Scilla and Charibdes, or a turd circling a bowl that refuses to flush I’m caught between joy and despair, because I’ve returned from a month’s holiday in California to find my beloved Patpong—the redlight I’ve called home for over a decade, where I’ve planted my ass every night, has begun a slow decline that will only end in its ruin. This saddens me deeply, since 1—I’ll have to find a new redlight home, and both NanaP and Soi Cowboy suck ass, and 2—I will miss the sexy serenity and sense of belonging that the Pong provided. On the other hand, as it slowly dies, certain aspects have become better, like how a body on the verge of flatlining releases endorphins, throwing the expiring soul into fits of euphoria before the end. For one thing, there are exponentially less tourists around. The Night Market has quieted significantly, losing a third of its food stalls and settling into a kind of comatose state. Hitting the remaining gogos doesn’t require pushing through crowds of brain-dead fuckwads, and that’s a plus. For another thing, half the dancers from the shut gogos (The Strip, XXX Lounge, and Black Pagoda) have squeezed onto the stages of King’s 1, King’s Corner, and Pink Panther, turning those bars into crazybusy, crazyparty scenes. It’s a clusterfuck of clunge, a smorgasbord of sex, a buffet of beauties. A plethora of pussy. A hotbed of hussies. A cornucopia of cutie pies. On my one and only post-holiday visit (before scampering down to Pattaya with my brother who’s here to get his swerve on–a thing he can’t do in the US thanks to woke feminism), I was in the throes of ecstasy. In the few remaining gogos onPong, the party is so enthralling one can barely keep hold of one’s senses. And to make things even sexier in those gogos, Bada Bing and Radio City have fired all their veterans (many of whom are the hottest chicks in all of BKK), opting instead to hire new young blood. Those unemployed sirens crammed themselves into the already teeming King’s Corner. Cliques of chicks and gangs of gals are mixing together like so many Skittles on a griddle. I didn’t get a chance to see the new chicks in BB and RC due to lack of time, but I’ll check them out next week and report back. I feel like the decision to get rid of all their best girls will come back to bite them in the ass, but what do I know? I’m just an old fat fart with a penchant for pole kitties.
If you haven’t been reading the news, or my previous blogs, you might wonder what earth-shattering changes might have occurred to wreak such destruction on the Pong. In case that’s you, here’s a quick rundown plus a short update:
Last month, the Thai police raided a gogo in Phuket that also happens to be owned by the same company that owns Black Pagoda, The Strip, XXX Lounge, and BarBar, along with the Patpong Museum. The Phuket bar in question was raided because the cops were tipped off that underage girls were working there. The tipoff came from an organization that claims to rescue girls from prostitution. The media ran with it as “police shutting down a child sex trafficking ring” even though the youngest girl was 15. For the uninitiated, Thai girls by the hundreds regularly lie about their age in order to hit the pole earlier than they should. It’s a bad thing, and anyone who knowingly lets it happen should be prosecuted. The key word there is “knowingly.” It’s key because the cops released the Thai mamasans—the exact people whose job it was to know the ages of the girls on their rosters—and instead have targeted two farang who by all indications had no idea what was going on. They’ve seized the assets of the head of the company despite not charging him with a crime and seem less-concerned with finding an actual perpetrator than they do with filling their pockets while sending innocent foreigners to prison. It’s a stark reminder that Thailand is merely a military dictatorship pretending to be a democracy. This truth fills me with dread and sadness, because I love this country with my whole soul. I tears me apart that people in power could or would commit such injustices. My heart is broken over it.
The Strip and Black Pagoda will never reopen. This is because they’ve been operating all these years without gogo licenses—an offense committed by dozens of bars across Bangkok that have not been targeted by police. XXX Lounge does have the proper licenses, so there’s hope that one day it will re-emerge under new ownership. In the short term, it will likely remain as dark as Glamour has been since the onset of the plandemic. BP will likely reopen as a coffee shop—a thing it was in 2013 before its gogo-conversion. Plans for the erotic library that was set to replace The Paddy Field will have to be scrapped. Only the Museum remains, and hopefully its store room. I say that because for the last 2 years all my artwork has been kept there, though I hold out little hope of ever getting it back now. In fact if I had to guess, it’s probably already adoring the walls of some copper’s house.
It’s a kind of reckoning for this longtime TLOS lover. When I first moved here, I taught free English classes through a fake NGO in Krabi. One of my students was a police officer. There wasn’t a corrupt bone in his body. I spent a decade here loving the police, and arguing with anyone who disparaged them. It’s a hard pill to swallow now, to learn I’ve been wrong this whole time. Thai police really are indefensible. They can throw you in prison on a whim. The ones we trust to protect us are the ones we must fear. I’m just sick over it. Thailand is a near-perfect paradise, but for a few horrific and potentially life-destroying flaws. That’s all I can muster on the topic. For more info, you can check out the posts of other less-intelligent Bangkok bloggers and slog through their puerile drivel.
In other news, although it’s glorious to be back in-country after a heinous sojourn in the US, the trip itself was soul-crushing. What should’ve been a 16-hour flight from LA to Manila turned into a 20-hour slog with a stop-over in Honolulu, which meant I missed my connecting flight and had to stay overnight in the Philippines. Then the morning flight was delayed 2 hours. At one point, I actually thought I’d never make it back to Bangkok. My advice is to avoid Philippine Air at all costs. They’re a dog-and-pony show.
And that’s all the monger that’s fit to ponder for now, friends. Check back next Sunday for another summary of red-light events. In the meantime, you can read more about Bangkok life on my Substack: https://bangkokseven.substack.com/
For the 3rd week in a row I have no photo slideshow for you, but I promise to post one next week as I’m heading to Pattaya for a week, woohoo! But you can browse previous gogo pics at
https://www.youtube.com/c/BangkokSeven
If you’re in a generous mood, you can donate anytime at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bangkok7
Follow me on Twitter @BangkokSeven for daily pics from the redlight, and until next time, keep your balls warm, your beer cold, and cheers to another week above ground in the greatest country on Earth: Thailand.
Pro Tip Post-Script: On long flights, don’t eat after 12.00 the day before and don’t eat the day of, until you’re on the plane. It all but guarantees you won’t need to take a dump until you’re back on the ground.
