Monday, 28 February 2011

Both Feet in Hell.

I'm cocky now. Conquering the sea has turned me into an even bigger egomaniac than I already was. I am scared of the sea yet I went for a swim, but worrying about Jaws getting me isn't my only phobia. I can't bear the thought of anyone ever seeing my feet and I'm too selfconcious to display my torso in public. My feet basically look like they have been shot dead and my body is...different. Unique. Fucking horrible. But since the day I dipped my dead and bloodied toe into the Andaman Sea I've decided that anything goes. The fact that I look like a big mess is your eyes problem not mine. Children may scream but I have every right to wear flip-flops if I fancy it. Grown men might die from shitting out their internal organs but if I want to walk around shirtless, like so many dicks before me, then I shall. I'm bringing sickly back.

Walking barechested around the Patong Beach area of Phuket was actually easy. Despite my many deformities I was still one of the prettiest there. When I think of Phuket I think of lush mountains and bright blue waters. Patong isn't really like that. It's more like Satan's crotch. After a wank. That he refuses to clean up. Everywhere you go there is someone trying to sell you something: Cheap food, cheap booze, cheap sex. You can't walk two feet without being hastled and even my grumpy face and accursed body didn't stop them. Not that I blame them, they have to make a buck and here they are catering to The West. Is there a more depressing thought than catering to The West? No, there isn't. For every one of the thousands of local Thai people lowering their culture to fit in with ours, there is a 100 more British and German tourists doing what they do best: being a complete cunt. Big fat bastards (some of them are deluded enough to think they're muscley, they are wrong) wandering around with their awful vests and pathetic tattoos and punchable faces, just dragging their knuckles and grinning because they've taken their tiny, tiny cocks on a much needed holiday. Yes, they'll pretend that they're here for the weather but as the weather doesn't have breasts and a penis they really have no interest in it. They just want something that they can put their cock in or watch a ping pong ball come out of.

And that's how The West is catered for here. That's what The West wants, that's what The West gets. Stupid West. Of course fucking a well hung schoolgirl is more of a night time thing. During the day it's drinking and at the world's most insanely named bars. One bar was called U2 Tribute, another is Vegas Thai Boxing Stadium but my favourite is a pub called Margarita Retro King of Pop Michael Jackson. I think it's a Wetherspoons.

But walking around all this bedlam is very stressful so how does one survive Patong? Simple. You do what I did. Get booked at a gig that puts you up in a very quiet and very lovely resort with fancy pool bars and in-room electric 5-speed duvets, get a fancy millionaire to take you out on his £1,000,000 boat or, if you somehow can't do either of those things, go for a massage.

Not that sort of massage, although there's plenty of that in Patong if you really need it. All 5 of us went to Let's Relax and got the "Dream Package" of an hour and a half massage of the neck, shoulders, hands and....FEET! Brilliant. Not only do I get to show my feet in public but some poor cunt has to actually touch them. This might be the greatest day of my life. I barged in first and sat down grinning in front of the masseuse. Her face suggested that she had seen my feet before. Maybe in her nightmares. She didn't look happy. But I took my shoes off in front of her and, like some trained professional in her field, she didn't vomit for 34 hours straight. Instead she washed my feet. Washing my feet meant touching them. Oh, yes. No using a mop with a 4-foot long shaft for her. Pern was a professional (her name was Pern) and she touched my feet like there was nothing wrong with them despite her face commiting suicide with every second. Of course, the thing about being scared of anyone ever seeing my feet means that no one has touched my feet. I learned something about me that day. I'm ticklish.

I spent the whole massage laughing, just lying there and taking tickles is a lot harder than it seems but it was amazingly good fun. My feet were finally giving me joy. Pern tried her best to dig her fingers in and wring out any pain but the alien touch of another human being on my feet just made me laugh. I even laughed when she started punching my feet. Pern really did punch my feet. A lot. And for ages. I'm glad she enjoyed herself.

If you can't go to Let's Relax then simply do a gig at the Holiday Inn Resort in Patong. You'll really enjoy that and the best part of doing the gig is you'll see Pete Harris, the promoter. He helped start my "career" so complain to him if you must. I know I do. He is a very lovely man and I thank him a lot.

But if there is just one thing that I can recommend you do in Patong, it's this: Go out late at night and avoid the bars. The bars are full of people you won't like and the music is too loud and lacking in quality. Instead, find someone selling booze from a big polystyrene box and offer to help them. That's what Muki, Josh and I did and it might be the highlight of the whole trip. We stayed there with the owner of the booze box drumming up business until 3.30am. We met lots of people, we started a little party in the street and we sold lots of booze although admittedly we did buy a lot ourselves. Josh found it tricky at the beginning. He DID sell a Bacardi Breezer to a passing Ladyboy but he ended up paying for it himself, so that doesn't count. Still, it was nice when a very jolly Swedish man bought us all booze and then promised to rape Josh. I have heard of people threatening rape but happily promising it is a new one for me. Ah, memories.

THIS IS IMPORTANT! Los Quattros Cvnts performs this Wednesday 2nd March at The Phoenix, Cavendish Square, London. Our guests are Al Murray and Joanna Neary. Tickets are bought on the door on the night so get there early to make sure you get a seat. It will be great. Here's the Facebook invitation, see you there!:


Dave w said...

Great to see you in Bangkok!

I couldn't get a ticket to see you + Ince at the Five Pound Fringe when I lived in Edinburgh, and obviously London is too far away, so I'm glad you played this convenient middle ground. (Josh Howie was ace too).

Michael Legge said...

Thanks, Dave. The Bangkok gigs were my favourite.