Porn And Her Dough Of Bread

24 hours.

That is all you have for your birthday. In that 24 hours, you are at the liberty to do anything you please and 75% of the time, someone else is going to pay for you. In that 24 hours, you are allowed to shamelessly ask any random stranger to wish you a "Happy Birthday" and 92% of the time, they will. In that 24 hours, you are allowed to be obnoxious and ask for a gift from any of your friends and 68% of the time you will get the gift.

This 24 hours is yours and yours to exploit.

I've never been the kind of guy to celebrate birthdays with much pomp but this year is an exception. This year, I decided that for my birthday, I would like to get out of the country and not be reminded that there is so much a middle class person like myself can afford to celebrate.

That means you go to any country where the currency is much weaker than the Singapore Dollar. Middle-class problem, solved!

Having a birthdate in October also means that it is the monsoon season in every South East Asian country (where the currency is much weaker than the Singapore Dollars thank you very much). But I wasn't prepared for the kind of weather that greeted me in Krabi on the eve of my birthday.

The rain was torrential and the whole trip there was wetter than Miley Cyrus' vagina after writhing on top of a wrecking ball. I practically spent my holiday there with an umbrella in hand and a scowl on my face.

But never one to excessively complain (especially during a holiday because that would be fucking annoying), I made a decision to enjoy my holiday by doing things indoors instead.

So I treated my body like a Play-doh and went for a body massage for two days straight and by the second day, my body was so relaxed that if you pushed me by accident, I would fall on the floor and immediately fall asleep on the floor.

Oh boy was the massage good. As it is with Thailand, you can't make out the women from the woah-men. On the second day, my masseuse, or "massage therapists" as they are popularly known nowadays, was this pretty girl in her mid twenties by the name of Porn. Please, don't start.

She spoke in an almost inaudible whisper and it wasn't until I laid down and saw her Adam's apple that I knew that Porn is actually a man. By then, it was already too late. I was already fully naked with the exception of a see through disposable underwear hanging precariously on my hips.

Nowhere to hide.

Her quiet, almost shy demeanor quickly evaporated when she started kneading my back like a dough of bread. Porn is biologically still a man and the brute strength was evident in her massage.

The food in Krabi, Thailand, as expected was exceedingly delicious. There was surprisingly a great number of Italian restaurants that could be found in Krabi. I had a ball of a time slurping copious amount of spicy, intestine damaging Tom Yum Goong, made more delicious and enjoyable against the cool, wet weather for the entire duration of my trip.

But back to the massage story.

"I bet Melanie would make an excellent transsexual masseuse in Krabi," Star Whatsapped me yesterday right after I regaled to her my slightly uncomfortable messaging incident in a group chat consisting of the usual suspects.

"And Star would make a good whore. Oh wait, you already are a whore," Melanie texted back in retaliation.

And with that, I was transported back home immediately.

Thailand though. Everyone was warm and genuine and it more than made up for the fucking shitty weather. It doesn't hurt either that I stayed in a villa and is equipped with a balcony that is directly facing the sea.

Something a middle class like myself would never ever afford in this god forsaken country.