Post V –

Id(iot) likes planting Seed

Students,

It has come to my attention that some of you may have observed myself and ‘good time’ girls Lady Tara and Lady Jasmine getting what the Thai locals call “mow” and what you may call pissed. Lady, I’d like to tell you you’re wrong, but that could lead to sticky situations and more than my story coming undone. In short, such lies would necessitate spankies. Our dear friend Sigmund may have been wrong about some issues (I have personally never thought of my mother in that way) but on matters of the greedy id when he is right he is right, right? And so for our blog today I wish to detail the (some say) wicked temptations in this monkey-sex town of Lopburi. One in particular comes to mind and that one is Seed Pub, a late-night establishment that students should - not ever – care to attend (but annoyingly, do.) At this point, a word or 160 from Ego, mistress (or Mr.) of ceremonies:

Ego: As the rational lez in this mind (f*ck) sandwich, may I beseech you to remember the high moral character I embody between the ‘anything goes’ Id(eas) and the yes sir/no sir top -> bottom imbalance of (NOT SO) Superego. Teachers have a duty to be everything to their students while fresh of face, young of spirit, and strict in action… (That’s action not in-action.) What must be kept frontal lobe is the oft-quoted “Work hard, play hard(er.)” Which, it is certain, is what this dili-gent teacher enjoys. “Youth is wasted on the young” is another of those academic sayings that drifts into my mind space from time to (closing) time. The point(s): “Learn it before live it.” “Work before play and play before work.” But separate the two. Always. Cooking in Hell’s fires is the result if you don’t… There that’s all the flogged-to-death analogies from me for now. Don’t have nightmares.

Now. To Seed. I would describe this Lopburian lounge as a place (It’s) Britney (bitch) would call home. As you see from her photo above, students she is an example of an individual of upmost class. Much like Seed. And, like Id, she would no doubt savour the crush of sweaty young bodies, appropriately inappropriate gropage while en route to the water closet, the series of catwalks populated by nudish nymphs bopping to stimulating (read: erotical) beats, and the hot (in the dark) waiters responsible for much of aforementioned gropage…

Saturday P.M./Sunday A.M. with my Ladies was tame compared to previous visits. You see I would never have came across this special devil’s playground were it not for my keeping company with some naughty (but nice) Thai associates. This gaggle of gays spirited me off there once, and I’m proud to say before we had the mainstream (as evidenced by my students) blocking the dance floor (read: dance square.) Back in the golden days of yore (not quite when all was still in black and white but not yesterday anyhow) it offered even more. It was simply Seedier. One could rub shoulders (and other body parts) with pimps and their prostitutes, various gender benders, and very many model-esque young upstarts in very little attire…

Possibly my favourite Seed-y night can be seen amid the photos of my earlier Picture Post, though sadly this does not quite do justice to an experience that saw Natalie mowed with the mo’s, Brad re-applying his clothes, and myself declaring “Anything goes!” Well actually I had a little (or big) bit more to declare but that’s best left as memory for the poor sober ladies of 7/11… At this midway point the gag will be removed from Id’s mouth so he can spew some muck:

Id: I’m a go-er that’s for damn sure. What goes on (with) the head is why I’m in this race. And the Thais they loves that honey, too. You gotta keep awake in this heat, see? Gotta be active not passive else you’ll be sleeping on the job. I am cock-sure about one thing though and that’s the education those students will get if they keep on going. No, I won’t be the provider. Nor will the TV… Unless of course it’s a different kind of TV…

Insightful. But students, what this really comes down to is the ‘A’ grade fun one can have as part of the after-dark crowd. While I cannot guarantee vampirism will provide you a tonsil-tickling social circle, what I will say is that the Thais do know how to party. And I will play Peter Pan on the club scene as long as I can. The Lost Boys would expect nothing less. Given my recent unfortunate (read: ‘A’aaaaaaaaaaa(h)!) ‘A’ge change, my only concession is rule #1: 'not on school nights.’ At this (jumping off a bridge) point the final thought is with the alter-ego, Superego:

Superego: (As you know) I swing both ways. But I dress just one way. To the left. Debauchery is all good and proper, but will somebody please think of the children?? Oh good. Job done then. Be a man, agreed? Go Seed!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Just say “No!”

Further reading: Today Teacher believed that the id of Student Chen could not possibly be heard from on a Creative Writing exam paper. How wrong. In answer to a question on using verbs to explain what you do at different times of day, under his ‘Evening’ heading he wrote ‘Having sex in bed.’ But it didn’t end there… In answer to a question on using 3 adjectives to describe Beyoncé, Chen chose ‘beautiful’, ‘sexy’, and ‘fucking hot.’ I of course expect him to achieve his usual high marks.

x Teacher

Post III - The Pleasures and Horrors of New Year

Students,

In a (rare) insight into my personal life I am going to give you a blow-by-blow account of my New Year. If you need the toilet go now. So it was all planned and would be very different from previous New Year’s with my beloved wife in Jersey. This time Khon Kaen in north Thailand. No crowds, few foreigners, and for Brad and myself lots of fun to be had with the natives. While Natalie, ever the sport, was happy in her role as Social Director (this meant her id had food and booze and sleep in pleasingly large quantities.) Looking back, I can say that we had a total blast and a lot of fun. With some exceptions. This blog is of course above personal attacks so the main ‘exception’ (read: old git) will not be discussed. So let’s be terribly Freudian and British and focus on the positives, shall we?

The city was very nice but the best thing was the weather. We were not treated to rain but it was cooler than a furnace for once. This meant I could bring out of the closet my new DKNY jacket that id and butch ego had had such a fight over buying in Bangkok (obviously id won.) In addition the locals were very friendly (Brad certainly found so…) I would like to tell you that during our time there we saw many tourist sights, but unless (hot) gay hustlers and one gap-toothed old dyke hooping and hollering after us count, all we really did was eat, sleep, drink, laugh lots, gossip, avoid the ‘exception’ already mentioned, and drink some more. In fact Social Director and I were so spirited with our spirits that after a while our bodies would not physically allow us to get wasted anymore and we had to move on to dancing instead.

My favourite things about Khon Kaen were of course sampling the local delicacies including ‘McChicken Sandwiches’, and the exciting bars we toured. The supposed gay bar was little more than a dark techno trash room with neon lights (yes I know what else is a homo disco?) but this one suffered due to no class (guys were huffing paint in the toilets) and no actual queers in sight. Much better was the Harem club where a near-nude lady gave me a lap dance and Brad a look of horror. But on New Years Day morning no less, our intrepid trio visited a bar populated only by police that had a bathroom our Social Director succinctly described as “looking like a dead body has been thrown around and bounced off each wall.” This bar was. Very. Exciting. At the time I felt like zzzzzzzzzzz. Kidding. No, it wasn’t a favourite highlight and at this point I would like to ask id / ego / superego to briefly explain why on New Years morning I had what Brad describes as “a deteriorating mood”:

Id.
No hoochie koochie, honey. One motherf***ing year older. Not “mow” (English: intoxication).
Ego.
The combination of being a quarter of a century old as of a few days earlier, and the ‘exception’ who does not obey the rules AND being peni deprived (read: depraved) led to the bad ‘A’ word: angst. I should know I’m a muncher.
Superego.
Knowing what was wrong who was right? As you know I go both ways. I had no right to be moody (apologies), it was right of y’all to leave me be, and it was wrong wrong wrong that ‘exceptional’ circumstances made us leave the boogie club and head to the grim reaper’s karaoke bar. Be a man, rise above it.

But back to business. What was the least fun and not favourite thing about our trip? (Though amusing nonetheless). Answer: the trip itself. Getting there was fine save for the near-death minibus collision but that was nothing compared to the purgatory of the trip back. There we were perched on a shelf at the back of a crowded bus with a never-ending TV ‘variety’ concert that had more panpipe musical numbers than Ireland has ever heard in its history. However. This trip took 8 HOURS. And it didn’t end there…

When we reached Saraburi, half an hour from Lopburi, we had to leave the first bus to catch a local one back home. But there wasn’t one. Unless we wanted to sleep on a bench with some monks and teenage prostitutes we had to check into the local hotel. This hotel was described by Natalie as “The Bates Motel”, by me as “Hell Hotel”, and Brad could only nervously giggle before regaining composure and informing us - and showing me - our neighbours in the next cell’s Nazi flags and describing how he believed our cell’s ceiling panels (one of which had a hook hanging from it) would be removed after-dark so that disfigured mutants could climb down and snatch us and fillet our corpses. As well as (aptly) having only a show about a mortician to watch on TV, we had to bear the many strange noises, suspicious stains on almost every surface, and the shower. We were afraid to use this after Brad (again being helpful) suggested should we peer down the plug hole we may hear the whimpers of a small child imprisoned at the bottom of a well. Thankfully we all made it out alive and intact after having been woken from our ten-minute slumber by a family of pigeons socializing on the window grills above our heads. It was a huge relief to get back to my hotel home where Natalie and I closed the trip in style by drinking beer in the pool and generally getting a bit rowdy.

So now the New Year is here and I have described our adventures, we will end the blog by hearing from id / ego/ superego once more with resolutions for the year ahead:

Id.
Another ‘A’ word to go with the others: Addiction. Think with brain not c*ck says a wise friend. I says keep ‘em coming. Honey.
Ego.
It’s 2008 not 2000 and ‘ate’. Cut the carbs. Keep at the gym. Do those lunges. Inclince those flys. Perv those pecs. And the fit man inside will out. Inner->outer. Healthy body, healthy mind.
Superego.
As you know I go both ways. Keep on top of the ‘addiction’ situation and don’t bottom out. As a teacher you are a moral centre. So be a man’s man.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Fill me with your love.

Answer to homework from Post I = #3 is the one who came through in the end. Teacher got A*

x Teacher