Ask a former money boy anything

[pong]

Hi Ryan, sawasdee, many thanks_ I just found the time to read the whole story now and this is truely a gem in this forum.

Perhaps-dont rush, dont hurry, you could muse about these:

1.what did you found the main difference between Thai MBs and the way you performed/did it?

2.maybe you've read any books/artícles about hustling boys (mostly from the US)- is it really that common over there (As you may guess I am Europe)?

BTW-I have also read an interssting long set of articles about some ''under cover'' paticipating scientist about how such boy-brothels as BlueBoy worked+ alternatives available to the boys. Indeed the main gripe from the boys was the big chunk the boss took from the payments- on street fees were mostly/roughly half of those-thus simply foregoing those.

[Guest ryanasia]

Yeah the brothel split could be rough. I understood it though as they had huge overheads to pay for as well. Having some beers maybe write a bit more tonight if the mood takes me. Not so happy how the last piece I wrote came out it as it is a bit disjointed.

 

One book I read which was given to me by my friend was this one... It has some okay tips in it I guess but sometimes the guy takes himself a bit too seriously. It served as my first tutorial in the business.

 

https://www.amazon.com/Hustling-Gentlemans-Guide-Homosexual-Prostitution/dp/1563335174

 

There are a few other books out that I don't really remember the names. One was by a guy named Adam who I met at the Blue Boy and appeared in some porn with Russian guys and one that featured some Thais. Can't for the life of me remember his last name or the names of the videos, maybe somebody else would know. I believe his book is offered in Ebook format online.

 

My own private Idaho as weird as it is gives some insights towards the weird guys sort of stepping in and mingling with the boys as well as the assortment of freaky  customers who "make pieces for cars" my lucky 44th little dutch boy. It is just a movie but offers some truths in it.  Some of the scenes are of real hustlers recounting their tales such as the guy who relates his experience with the bottle of wine. 

 

Hustling is common in the USA but now is all internet based like many places. Years ago you could go into almost any mid sized city in the USA and find the spot where the cars circle. 

 

I think as I write more you will be able to see what is different between how I did it and how the Thai boys are doing it. The last segment was a little heavier than I intended so for the next installment I think I will write a short story about the first room I had at the Blue Boy which was anything but routine if that is okay for everybody. I will still answer questions but add a spontaneous story in now and again. I think this will help me to break out of my shell a bit more and become more candid in the content and style of what I am writing. 

 

A question I have been thinking about that is thus far unanswered is "What are the misconceptions that johns have about the boys?" I will try to put some thought into this as it is a very good question. 

[Guest ryanasia]

The greatest misconception johns may have is that money boys are any different than anybody else. The boys are so varied and from so many different backgrounds that any preconceived notion of what a money boy is, is bound to have flaws. As one myself on any given day I could be all of the stereotypes or none of them at all. I was the troubled youth, the narcissist, the drug abuser, the kleptomaniac, the boy next door, the dejected, the rich, the homeless and everything else in between all rolled into one. 

 

A money boy is just a guy doing another job. So it would be fair to say that making too much of the occupation is not so meaningful. It doesn't define that person or their character. The boy will cater his role to the aura that you give off some of the perception you have towards him will merely be but a reflection of yourself and the energy you give off. So whatever your feeling is of that particular boy is you will be getting glimpses of yourself many times.

 

If you are egotistical the boy will feed that, if you are lonely the boy will probably empathize with you and you will get a projection of loneliness that will be a bond between you. So in so far as the boy is an emotional shapeshifter and his role is dynamic the misperceptions shouldn't really matter too much. 

 

When I was working I was basically doing my best to be what you believed me to be. I am sure sometimes the lines blurred and many preconceptions would be enforced through the fantasy we were sharing. 

 

One common mistake I think is that the john is the one who is in power. The john can always get another boy and the boy can get another customer but the john is likely to succumb to feelings and be hurt more easily. The john is usually going to be older and the boy will likely be fit giving the boy the edge if there was a physical confrontation. It would be seldom that I was afraid or intimidated by a customer. The john in most cases has more to lose if things go pear shaped and the secret gets out and do not want problems. 

 

How many of you have had a boy that you wish would leave and leave quickly? this is what I mean nobody wants trouble at the hotel they are registered in or in some cases their wives to find out etc. So in this case the notion that the moneyboy is the weaker of the two in the equation can prove itself false. 

 

The thought that the boy is desperate and needs saving is a common one. There are a lot of guys running around to save money boys from their fate it seems. There are desperate cases and some people need saving but your average money boy is there because he is young and horny and the money is easy. It is pretty much that simple. I think sometimes the idea of saving a guy is a mere justification on some level of the behavior that the john himself is engaging in. 

 

So my advice is to lighten up and play it cool, have fun be easy going. The boy has in most cases other options he can pursue when his short career comes to an end. Most don't want some Debby Downer to come along and get all neurotic about it. 

 

In the straight world I think the john in many cases does hold most of the power but in the gay world I don't think it really works out like that.  That's my two cents worth on how boys are perceived. You can agree or disagree as my view is just one of many out there.

 

 

 

So on to a short story about my first room at the Blue Boy.

 

 

 

So I had gained a foot in the door so to speak as I had mentioned earlier in this thread. So I didn't really know what to make of the place. I sat around at the bar upstairs and it was completely empty and one of the boys told me there was also a bar downstairs. A cute young English bar tender welcomed me in and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. He gave me some beer and said it was on the house. At this point I though beers were free or comped for the working boys. Little did I know. lol

 

So I am chatting with him and he seems to fancy me and I am beginning to relax from some of the hash the moroccan boys had smoked with me. I am not used to this sort of quality of stuff as I had only been in Holland for maybe 72 hours at this point. Showtime starts at the club upstairs for the dancers and whatever fucking show might have been on that night. I was instructed to stay downstairs because my passport was American and I am not officially allowed to work at the club. 

 

 

So after sometime of downing the beers I was offered by the fetching young guy behind the bar a Dutch guy comes in and sits next to me. I don't remember his face very well but he had dark brown hair and wasn't unattractive by any means. Well groomed and in good physical shape. He must have been around 35. I would have been 21 at this point. 

 

So he gets a drink and starts up the usual conversation and this eventually leads to him saying he wanted to get a room with me. I told him this was no problem at all. He orders another round and begins to explain to me that he is into SM and likes innocent looking boys like me to use. 

 

I was actually into it and the idea didn't bother me at all so I agree and we go upstairs to the desk to get the key to the room. By this time the owner had left and there was a black English guy working the cash register and desk position. So the Dutch guy asks him for the key to the SM room. 

 

Now my ears perk up a little bit and I was wondering just what I had signed up for. He reassures me not to worry and pushes me ahead of him and follows me up a flight of stairs. I think he wanted me to see what was inside first because he handed me the key and insisted I unlock the door. I fumbled around with the key a bit because I was becoming slightly nervous and also because I wasn't familiar with dutch style locks. Finally I am able to push the door open and the sight inside awaiting was one I won't probably ever forget. 

 

The place was a fully furnished dungeon room. There was a stock, a sling, a cage, and a swing that looked like it had a dildo attached to it. i look at the guy and am guessing my look of surprise must have been quite arousing for him.He ushered me in quickly and told me if I preform well he would reward me accordingly. So at this point I have around $100 left as I came to Holland with very little money and really wasn't in any position to pick and choose my jobs. The other part of me was excited because I had never seen such a place in my life. I had done some kinky dates but this was on a whole different level.

 

There was a phone in the room and I was instructed earlier by the guy at the desk to call if there is a problem. The time allotted for special rooms is 1.5 hours as opposed to the regular rooms which are sold in one hour increments. So he begins to play with me. He blindfolds me and then uses different toys on my body. Clothes pins dildos and most anything you can think of in such a place.

 

Now I wasn't opposed to any of it and after some time he guides me into the stock that has places for your hands and head at the top and also places to secure your feet at the bottom. After some time spanking me with this set up he says he will fuck me. So I tell him put the condom on and let me feel it on his dick just to make sure before he starts. I was still blind folded and pretty helpless so needed him to do this. 

 

So he does and when he gets in position and starts to ready himself.... the knock on the door comes. The voice from outside the door asks "Young Ryan are you okay in there?" I reply "Yeah, everything is fine, we are just a bit busy." So then there is a key in the door and it flies open and from what I could gather it was the black guy from the desk. 

 

i was still bound in the stock and blindfolded and I couldn't move so I heard the Dutch guy saying something like "What the fuck are you doing in here?" The Black guy replies making sure Ryan is alright. I feebly interject that "I am okay we are just having a date, please just get out. I am fine, really, no problem." i must have been quite the spectacle at that moment. 

 

After being asked several times if I am okay and assuring him that I was he finally left. I wanted to just sort of slink into the corner and disappear but this obviously wasn't possible. So after the break in the mood the Dutch guy gets his mojo back and continues for awhile and after some time he suggests the sling. So we go do the deed in the sling and make use the swing as well. 

 

I am not sure how much time had passed but he finally seemed ready to move into the attached bedroom were there was a king sized bed. As we are getting down to it suddenly the other door leading to this room bursts open and here the guy is again. 

 

By this time the Dutch guy has had enough and they start screaming at each other. The Dutch guy is saying how 

"This is unacceptable and I will never be back!" and the black guy is countering with "You have a young guy in your room and were over the time and never called. It is my duty to make sure he is safe!"

 

Again I am saying I am fine and feel like a deer caught between the headlights. So things settle down and the other guy leaves again.I am apologizing to the Dutch guy and saying I didn't mean to make any problems, at this point I am feeling a little traumatized. 

 

So we are getting dressed and the Dutch guy is literally fuming and swearing in Dutch. I tell him "If you ever want to meet me you don't have to come here, we can do this somewhere else." This was greeted by the door flying open again and the black guy shouting at me now "You have to leave immediately for doing black escorts." I told him "I have no idea what a black escort is and was just being polite as the guy was so pissed off." 

 

What I didn't know is you aren't allowed to exchange numbers or meet people outside of the club. I had only been working there for a little over two hours and nobody had explained this to me.

 

So the Dutch guy gives me some money for a tip and storms out blaring obscenities in Dutch. On way way downstairs I explain to the desk guy I had no idea what I did wasn't allowed and he chastises me for it but says he won't report me to the owner over it. I was a bit relieved because I needed the money and to continue working.

 

The whole place had heard about it by now and I was feeling a little gun shy and deflated. So I go downstairs to the bar and the cute English guy who would later become my boyfriend asks me with a smile "So how did that go?" I ask for a shot of Jagermeister and reply " Not too bad." 

 

After around 15 minutes another customer walks in and starts chatting to me and it is time to put my business face back on. 

 

That was just an utterly nutty experience for the first time working in a boys club overseas. It turns out the black guy at the desk had no business doing any of that and wasn't really the manager. The owner was amused by my story when he came around and asked me what had happened. He was a kind enough guy, I often wonder what became of him. 

[colmx]

 

There are a few other books out that I don't really remember the names. One was by a guy named Adam who I met at the Blue Boy and appeared in some porn with Russian guys and one that featured some Thais. Can't for the life of me remember his last name or the names of the videos, maybe somebody else would know. I believe his book is offered in Ebook format online.

I am guessing that you are referring to Aaron Lawrence?

http://www.aaronlawrence.com/videos.html

[Guest ryanasia]

I am guessing that you are referring to Aaron Lawrence?

http://www.aaronlawrence.com/videos.html

 

Yes that's the guy.

[Guest rappa999]

Hi, what an interesting read, I only recently discovered the forum.

 

can I ask about your view and experiences of HIV and other std's?

 

can I also ask, you mention lonely, I fall into that category, I am 47 and not out and lived a lie

for a long time, is it simply not possible for me to be gay in Scotland, loneliness for me and I'm sure

for others is unbearable pain, is it possible for a moneyboy to fall in love with a 20 year older farang?

[Guest ryanasia]

You could probably read a post I made in "The allure of Thailand" thread. It gives my opinion on if love is possible or not with a money boy. 

 

The worse thing I ever caught was crabs as far as the STD thing goes. I think in some cases maybe purely recreational sex would be more dangerous. My rationale for this thought is that when it's a job I am not likely to get caught up in the moment and will always protect myself. I have slipped up in my personal life once or twice and didn't have a condom but this never happened on the job. Luckily I am still healthy and won't be repeating those mistakes. 

 

About the only interesting thing I can say as a working boy is you learn how to put a condom on with your mouth if you are asked for oral. Many guys will refuse a condom for oral but I found if it was done this way the acceptance rate was higher. 

 

As far as HIV and STD go in general I don't really have any unique insights about them. Play safe.

[Guest rappa999]

sorry man, I read and was encouraged by your comment about relationships after I posted my question.

 

as for HIV and other diseases encouraging to hear you've not much to report on that.

 

the photo on your profile, is that you? amazing body whoever it is.

 

so very interesting reading what you have to say, been with only 4 money boys in my life and I liked

every guy as a person a lot but as I've pretended to be straight for such a long time so been with

quite a few gogo girls and disliked most of their attitudes and personalities, not all but quite a few,

not their fault of course I live a lie but there is a few princesses with bad attitudes, not come across that

with boys.....so far

[vinapu]

 been with

quite a few gogo girls and disliked most of their attitudes and personalities, not all but quite a few,

not their fault of course I live a lie but there is a few princesses with bad attitudes, not come across that

with boys.....so far

don't worry , sooner or later you may find primadonna with cock,

 

 there are boys who need  an adjustment camp unfortunately, both fems who behave like girls with corresponding attitude and very manly who are trying to show that they are not interested in you at all because they are men and so are you.

 

Blessingly very few and far , far between

[Guest ryanasia]

It definitely isn't me in the avatar. I just felt out of place on this site with out a tight underwear Asian av. Now I feel like I fit in.

[ggobkk]

It definitely isn't me in the avatar. I just felt out of place on this site with out a tight underwear Asian av. Now I feel like I fit in.

You fit in and are more than welcome...

[Guest rappa999]

It definitely isn't me in the avatar. I just felt out of place on this site with out a tight underwear Asian av. Now I feel like I fit in.

no problem man, I was just wondering if you looked as good as you sound? love reading your comments

[Guest ryanasia]

Maybe twenty years ago I did but thanks for the compliments.

[Guest ronnie4you]

I will definitely buy your book!

[Guest ryanasia]

I need another question. lol

[vinapu]

tell us something about your nasty client experiences if you will 

[Guest ryanasia]

I never got raped or anything. Most of my customers were just run of the mill middle aged guys. The richer they are the more eccentric and annoying they could be. There were guys that were pretty horrible to have to be with physically, but that doesn't make a person horrible. 

 

Mainland Europeans were probably my least favorite customers because they were so clinical and treated the boys like they are a mere commodity. Back then main land Europe was a Gay mecca and the Europeans were accustomed to playing there. 

 

Probably the younger guys that I dealt with were the worst customers. I had this 19 year old Cuban guy and he thought he was God's gift to the world. So he was difficult more than an older guy to deal with. 

 

I pretty much enjoyed my job and unless somebody ripped me off or wasted my time I was pretty happy doing what I was doing. 

 

I would imagine with the internet now that some things such as the GR complaints would be a lot worse for a boy. Although back then you met in person and hopefully could verify the payment on the spot. 

 

So I guess to put it simply the nastiest customers were those the were economizing or wasting time altogether. Nobody put a gun to my head to do this job so almost any other nasty type could be discarded in a relatively easy fashion. 

 

It was pretty easy to go back to the bar and be fed or have a safe haven, so I never really had to put up with too many customers that were disrespectful in an outright manor.  There was one guy that liked to spit in my face. i guess this would qualify as an unlikeable person. However he paid me handsomely and I closed my eyes and took it. 

 

I didn't resent him because he said it up front and I agreed to it. It wasn't even the hardest date to do, if you can get over the emotional aspects of it, than it was a very easy job. He didn't want me to pretend to like him and got off on the fact that I had to bow down and close my eyes and mouth. 

 

It doesn't make him a bad guy per se it was just his fantasy and there was very little risk of HIV infection out of it. So in some ways it sounds deplorable but he wasn't that bad of a customer. 

[Guest ryanasia]

random poem translated by Paul Schmidt

 

From my ancestors the Gauls I have pale blue eyes, a narrow brain, and awkwardness in competition. I think my clothes are as barbaric as theirs. But I don't butter my hair.

The Gauls were the most stupid hide-flayers and hay-burners of their time.

From them, I inherit: idolatry, and love of sacrelige; - oh! all sorts of vice, anger, lechery, - terrific stuff, lechery; - lying, above all, and laziness.

I have a horror of all trades and crafts. Bosses and workers, all of them peasants, and common. The hand that holds the pen is as good as the one that holds the plow. - What a century for hands! - I'll never learn to use my hands. And then, domesticity goes too far. The propriety of beggary shames me. Criminals are as disgusting as men without balls: I'm intact, and I don't care.

But! who has made my tongue so treacherous, that until now it has counseled and kept me in idleness? I have not used even my body to get along. Out-idling the sleepy toad, I have lived everywhere. There's not one family in Europe that I don't know. - Families, I mean, like mine, who owe their existence to the Declaration of the Rights of Man. - I have known each family's eldest son!

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

If only I had a link to some point in the history of France!

But instead, nothing.

I am well aware that I have always been of an inferior race. I cannot understand revolt. My race has never risen, except to plunder: to devour like wolves a beast they did not kill.

I remember the history of France, the Eldest Daughter of the Church. I would have gone, a village serf, crusading to the Holy Land; my head is full of roads in the Swabian plains, of the sight of Byzantium, of the ramparts of Jerusalem; the cult of Mary, the pitiful thought of Christ crucified, turns in my head with a thousand profane enchantments. - I sit like a leper among broken pots and nettles, at the foot of a wall eaten away by the sun. - And later, a wandering mercenary, I would have bivouacked under German nighttimes.

Ah! one thing more: I dance the Sabbath in a scarlet clearing, with old women and children.

I don't remember much beyond this land, and Christianity. I will see myself forever in its past. But always alone; without a family; what language, in fact, did I used to speak? I never see myself in the councils of Christ; nor in the councils of the Lords, - Christ's representatives.

What was I in the century past: I only find myself today. The vagabonds, the hazy wars are gone. The inferior race has swept over all - the People, as they put it, Reason; Nation and Science.

Ah, Science! Everything is taken from the past. For the body and the soul, - the last sacrament, - we have Medicine and Philosophy, household remedies and folk songs rearrainged. And royal entertainments, and games that kings forbid! Geography, Cosmography, Mechanics, Chemistry!...

Science, the new nobility! Progress. The world moves!... And why shouldn't it?

We have visions of numbers. We are moving toward the Spirit. What I say is oracular and absolutely right. I understand, and since I cannot express myself except in pagan terms, I would rather keep quiet.

Pagan blood returns! The Spirit is at hand, why does Christ not help me, and grant my soul nobility and freedom. Ah! but the Gospel belongs to the past! The Gospel! The Gospel.

I wait gluttinously for God. I have been of an inferior race for ever and ever.

And now I am on the beaches of Brittany. Let cities light their lamps in the evening. My daytime is done; I am leaving Europe. The air of the sea will burn my lungs; lost climates will turn my skin to leather. To swim, to pulverize grass, to hunt, above all to smoke; to drink strong drinks, as strong as molten ore, - as did those dear ancestors around their fires.

I will come back with limbs of iron, with dark skin, and angry eyes: in this mask, they will think I belong to a strong race. I will have gold: I will be brutal and indolent. Women nurse these ferocious invalids come back from the tropics. I will become involved in politics. Saved.

Now I am accursed, I detest my native land. The best thing is a drunken sleep, stretched out on some strip of shore.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

But no one leaves. - Let us set out once more on our native roads, burdened with my vice, that vice that since the age of reason has driven roots of suffering into my side - that towers to heaven, beats me, hurls me down, drags me on.

Ultimate innocence, final timidity. All's said. Carry no more my loathing and treacheries before the world.

Come on! Marching, burdens, the desert, boredom and anger.

Hire myself to whom? What beasts adore? What sacred images destroy? What hearts shall I break? What lie maintain? - Through what blood wade?

Better to keep away from justice. - A hard life, outright stupor, - with a dried-out fist to lift the coffin lid, lie down, and suffocate. No old age this way, no danger: terror is very un-French.

- Ah! I am so forsaken I will offer at any shrine impulses toward perfection.

Oh my self-denial, my marvelous Charity! my Selfless love! And still here below!

De Profundis Domine, what an ass I am!

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

When I was still a little child, I admired the hardened convict on whom the prison door will always close; I used to visit the bars and the rented rooms his presence had consecrated; I saw with his eyes the blue sky and the flower-filled work of the fields; I followed his fatal scent through city streets. He had more strength than the saints, more sense than any explorer - and he, he alone! was witness to his glory and his rightness.

Along the open road on winter nights, homeless, cold, and hungry, one voice gripped my frozen heart: "Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse." In the morning my eyes were so vacant and my face so dead, that the people I met may not even have seen me.

In cities, mud went suddenly red and black, like a mirror when a lamp in the next room moves, like treasure in the forest! Good luck, I cried, and I saw a sea of flames and smoke rise to heaven; and left and right, all wealth exploded like a billion thunderbolts.

But orgies and the companionship of women were impossible for me. Not even a friend. I saw myself before an angry mob, facing a firing squad, weeping out sorrows they could not understand, and pardoning! - like Joan of Arc! - "Priests, professors and doctors, you are mistaken in delivering me into the hands of the law. I have never been one of you; I have never been a Christian; I belong to the race that sang on the scaffold; I do not understand your laws; I have no moral sense; I am a brute; you are making a mistake..."

Yes, my eyes are closed to your light. I am an animal, a nigger. But I can be saved. You are fake niggers; maniacs, savages, misers, all of you. Businessman, you're a nigger; judge, you're a nigger; general, you're a nigger; emperor, old scratch-head, you're a nigger: you've drunk a liquor no one taxes, from Satan's still. - This nation is inspired by fever and cancer. Invalids and old men are so respectable that they ask to be boiled. - The best thing is to quit this continent where madness prowls, out to supply hostages for these wretches. I will enter the true kingdom of the sons of Cham.

Do I understand nature? Do I understand myself? No more words. I shroud dead men in my stomach.... Shouts, drums, dance, dance, dance! I can't even imagine the hour when the white men land, and I will fall into nothingness.

Thirst and hunger, shouts, dance, dance, dance!

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

The white men are landing. Cannons! Now we must be baptized, get dressed, and go to work.

My heart has been stabbed by grace. Ah! I hadn't thought this would happen!

But I haven't done anything wrong. My days will be easy, and I will be spared repentance. I will not have had the torments of the soul half-dead to the Good, where austure light rises again like funeral candles. The fate of a first-born son, a premature coffin covered with shining tears. No doubt, perversion is stupid, vice is stupid; rottenness must always be cast away. But the clock must learn to strike more than hours of pure pain! Am I to be carried away like a child, to play in paradise, forgetting all this misery!

Quick! Are there any other lives? - Sleep for the rich is impossible. Wealth has always lived openly. divine love alone confers the keys of knowledge. I see that nature is only a show of kindness. Farewell chimeras, ideals and errors.

The reasonable song of angels rises from the rescue ship: it is divine love. - Two loves! I may die of earthly love, die of devotion. I have left behind creatures whose grief will grow at my going! You choose me from among the castaways, aren't those who remain my friends?

Save them!

I am reborn in reason. The world is good. I will bless life. I will love my brothers. There are no longer childhood promises. Nor the hope of escaping old age and death. God is my strength, and I praise God.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

Boredom is no longer my love. Rage, perversion, madness, whose every impulse and disaster I know, - my burden is set down entire. Let us appraise with clear heads the extent of my innocence.

I am no longer able to ask for the consolation of a beating. I don't imagine I'm off on a honeymoon with Jesus Christ as my father-in-law.

I am no prisoner of my own reason. I have said: God. I want freedom within salvation: how shall I go about it? A taste for frivolity has left me. No further need for divine love or for devotion to duty. I do not regret the age of emotion and feeling. To each his own reason, contempt, Charity: I keep my place at the top of the angelic ladder of good sense.

As for settled happiness, domestic or not... no, I can't. I am too dissipated, too weak. Work makes life blossom, an old idea, not mine; my life doesn't weigh enough, it drifts off and floats far beyond action, that third pole of the world.

What an old maid I'm turning into, to lack the courage to love death!

If only God would grant me that celestial calm, etherial calm, and prayer, - like the saints of old. - The Saints! They were strong! Anchorites, artists of a kind we no longer need!

Does this farce have no end? My innocence is enough to make me cry. Life is the farce we all must play.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

Stop it! this is your punishment. - Forward march!

Ah! my lungs burn, my temples roar! Night rolls in my eyes, beneath this sun! My heart... my arms and legs...

Where are we going? To battle? I am weak! the others go on ahead. Tools, weapons... give me time!...

Fire! Fire at me! Here! or I'll give myself up. - Cowards! - I'll kill myself! I'll throw myself beneath the horses' hooves!

Ah!...

- I'll get used to it.

That would be the French way, the path of honor!

[Guest ryanasia]

Sorry i only meant to quote one poem.

[Vessey]

It would be interesting to know when and why you stopped being a money boy?

 

(Sorry if this has already been asked)

[Guest ryanasia]

You simply get too old.

[Guest Chicago]

The poem "random poem translated by Paul Schmidt" you quote is very powerful and I think something you identify strongly with it as an expression your thoughts of your life experiences.  I appreciate and thank you for sharing the poem.  I'll have to research the poem ........... I'd love to see someone actually perform it in its rawness and honesty.

[Guest ryanasia]

I will write a more meaningful response to getting old and my thoughts about my exit from the business when I have time. The quote by I think it was Truman comes to mind though.

 

. "Old soldiers don't die they just slowly fade away.

 

Retirement isn't an over night thing and is a gradual process. I just arrived in jomtien so may not be in the office the next couple of days.

[Guest ryanasia]

I do relate with that poem and it is much better if you have it side by side with the original French. I was drunk and posted it but it seemed to match at the time.

[Vessey]

I will write a more meaningful response to getting old and my thoughts about my exit from the business when I have time. The quote by I think it was Truman comes to mind though.

 

. "Old soldiers don't die they just slowly fade away.

 

Retirement isn't an over night thing and is a gradual process. I just arrived in jomtien so may not be in the office the next couple of days.

 

Thank you, I had feared that it was too personal a question to ask.

 

Could I add a codicil to my question please by asking not just when and why you moved on, but how you moved on?

 

You seem to have had a fairly peripatetic existence as a money boy and yet have successfully gone onto a career that enables you to enjoy holiday time in Thailand and I am hoping that there is a story to be told about how that came about?

 

Yes, these questions are more about you now than just the life of a random money boy, but I think many of us have been hooked by the candid way in which you have shared your life-experiences and are keen to follow your story as it progresses.