Many Farangs wash up on the beach in Thailand,

get a little girl to yank their little weenie, and think they’ve landed in paradise. “Fantasy” is probably the more operable concept, though I’m not sure who is the more guilty of deception, female Thais or male Farangs. Like a junkie increasing the dose to try and maintain the original exhilarating effect, so these little girls fresh out of the village quickly appraise their value on the international market. Then typically they will float their currency, letting it seek its own level while hedging their bets on multiple false fronts. A little tissue in the bra always helps get the juices flowing. More than people’s savings can get hurt in a period of rapid inflation. When Roger’s wife dumped him to take a better offer, he didn’t even see it coming, though she’d been fucking the Farang down the street for a month or so. She wasn’t a prostitute or even a bar girl, please note. She was a good girl, just looking for someone to support her… and buy her a nation. Roger thought he was getting a bargain on a stateless girl. Her married her then got fucked, by himself of course, guilty of negligence and massive ignorance. Her father was Indian, they say. Her mother, well, you know. I hear she’s Cambodian now, citizen of a state she’d never even visited.

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