I have already given my Top 10 destinations in South East Asia, but I thought I’d give you guys a girl guide to the region. I read an article by Roosh V where he promotes genetic beauty, femininity & sexuality as the  three components of female beauty. I feel such criteria provides a great template for assessing women from different countries. Roosh used the template for South America, now I shall use it for S.E Asia.

The results are in…

As you see the Philippines just beats Thailand due to excessive Filipina bone-age. Laos ranks lowest (11th) because of the harsh penalties imposed for screwing foreigners. Feel free to ask me any questions or leave comments.

I have some great City Guides related to this topic if you want to check them out:

Manila, Philippines

Jakarta, Indonesia

Dili, East Timor

Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Hanoi, Vietnam

EVERY VISITOR TO SUDAN MUST REGISTER WITH AN OFFICIAL ALIEN REGISTRATION OFFICE WITHIN 3 DAYS.

Most people register upon entry.

We didn’t.

Making our way from Cairo to Cape Town, Danny and I refused to pay an inflated premium to entertain the bureaucrats at the border of Wadi Halfa. We insisted we would make arrangements in the capital Khartoum.

We didn’t .

Three days elapsed and the window closed. We remained apathetic. 8 Epic Arabian Nights passed. On the 9th day, we awoke in a merchant’s shed in Gallabat, the border town before Ethiopia.

A narrow bridge occupied by heavily armed Sudanese soldiers separated us from the next realm of Africa.

6AM: We attempted to cross, but a quick glance at our passports landed us in trouble.

Inevitability, we found ourselves in the custody of  some rather uncouth army officals.

“You did not regisister! This is unacceptable”

“But we, we thought…” Our excuses fell on deaf hears.

“You must pay $70 each.” He demanded.

“But we don’t have that kind of money and the only ATM is in Khartoum.” I protested.

“We then enjoy Sudan.”

7AM: We were released and told to return with the money. Things looked grim. Khartoum was at least a day’s travel and $70 felt like a fortune on our budget. Fuck that.

“What do we do now?” Danny asked.

“Follow me” I said.

The border bridge hung over a deep trench where a small stream meandered. I followed the stream as far out of sight from the bridge as possible. A small Sudanese kid followed us.

“Hey kid, where’s the nearest town in Ethiopia?” I asked.

The boy picked up a stone and threw it across the stream to the other side. Ethiopia was only a few metres away.

I scanned the trench; it looked an easy obstacle. But that wasn’t my concern. The bridge was being patrolled by a lone sentry who’s shadow stalked the land in the dusty dawn light. A watchman, armed with a shimmering ambassador of death; an AK-47. His back was turned.  I had a momentary lapse in reason. Seizing the opportunity,  I began descending into the trench.  It was a reckless decision…

“What the fuck are you doing?” Danny whispered.

“Come on, it’ll be grand”

With barely a moment’s hesitation he followed. I wasn’t the only one with looking for an adrenaline rush; Danny was no stranger to danger. Time was of the essence.

We reached the bottom, crossed the stream and started scrambling up the other side, becoming alarmingly visible. If any of the guards saw us, there was a good chance we could be shot in the back.

We stayed silent, kept our bodies low and moved in a stealthy manner.

My heart was pounding so heart I thought the noise would give us away.

We made a last dash to take cover in the shrubbery across the border.

In the safety of an African bush, I savoured the moment of relief. We had evaded capture.

Navigating our way through the bushes we eventually stepped out to Metema, the Ethiopian border town!

But alas, our troubles were anything from over…

7.10 AM: We enter the border office to validate our Ethiopian visas, a small hut with no electricity. The border official, a stoutly gentleman, sporting a large moustache greeted us. He asked us to sit down and took our passports. Investigating the pages, he  looked increasingly puzzled.

“OH! You did not leave Sudan. You must GO BACK. You must GO BACK NOW!”

Our faces dropped and our stomachs tightened. I panicked. Not only did we deify the authorities with registration, we also just jumped the border illegally. That meant prison. Prison in one of the most oppressive countries in the world. A country that stones adulterers to death; where Sharia law reigns supreme. Weeks before, the Sudanese authorities had even jailed a women for calling a teddy bear Muhammed. Our lives were over.

“WE CAN’T GO BACK! THEY WILL ARREST US!” I pleaded, explaining how the Sudanese  authorities had stopped us crossing. I broke down and told a tale of woe; a tale of extortion; a tale of two young infidels being exploited by corrupt officials…

We were on trial. Our prison: Sudan. We had made our defence but the odds were against us – we had blatantly broken the law.  We sat in despair awaiting the verdict.

Our judge held a stern deposition.

The tension was soul destroying.

“Ehh.. Sudanese!” He laughed, stamping our passports.

7.18AM: “WELCOME TO ETHIOPIA!”

Eager to experience the nightlife in Siberia, my good friend Danny and I found ourselves in a nightclub in Tomsk. As the only tourists around, we had no trouble making friends; benevolent locals presented us with shot after shot of Russia’s finest vodka. Danny was talking to a gorgeous student at the bar and I was the center of attention on the dance floor. Things were looking good…

But it all went up shit creek. Literally.

We were naive to cruel intentions. Unbeknownst to us, we had been poisoned by a potent and dizzying elixir.

Danny was the first to experience the effects. Sharing a shot with his new googly-eyed maiden, he skulled back his drink which such enthusiasm, the momentum of the glass defeated Danny’s balance and soon he found himself engaged in a prolonged struggle in stay on his legs. He fell backwards, destroying everything in his wake. Glasses smashed and chairs abated. Then, an almighty cataclysm between him, a table of drinks  and the hard floor. Danny lay in a heap. While he was helped to his feet, I was busy trying to stay on mine…

I too started to feel strange. I rushed across the dancefloor to take cover in the bathroom, but just as I entered the putrid hole-in-the-ground my legs gave way. I landed face first into the nearest shit-ridden squatter toilet. Fail. I made several attempts to stand up, but every time ended back squirming in the epicentre of every sludgy turd. Covered in slop, I was powerless to fight the force of this vacuous black hole. I black out. The next thing I remember – I’m in jail.

Danny is panned out beside me talking in circles. My blothed memory recalls the police laughing at my confused Russian. I remember trying to offer bribes. I remember being in a car. Black out…

Next thing I know, I’m waking up in my own vomit in my hotel room with Danny beside. He couldn’t remember a thing! Our wallets were gone, our heads were pounding and our speech was slurred and incoherent.

Overall a pretty good night!

I was in Kilkenny last night for of a bit a shin-dig. Armed with just a jaunty summer hat and some liquid confident I  attracted the attention of a buxom blonde. With minimum effort, I was pretty much getting my leg humped. Being polite, I let her follow me home where I threw the dog a bone…

After struggling to gain arousal, fumbling to slip on a condom and a couple of numb indolent thrusts I gave up. I was too drunk, uninterested and I couldn’t feel a thing.

“This is shit,” I said, liberating myself from all things rancid and rubber.

As you can imagine, it was a statement that didn’t go down well.

Bottom Line: I’ve learned what to say when you want to drive a women out of your bed. If you want them to stay, you need to avoid such blunders.

Here are my greatest hits…

1. “This is shit”

As mentioned previously, this doesn’t inspire confidence.

2. “I’ve slept with X amount of women from more than X countries. Come on  you have to admit, that’s pretty impressive..”

3. “I recently contracted an STI”

This one is great: the nail in the coffin.

4. “Do you mind having a shower first? You smell.”

She fucking did.

5. “You could do with a bit of shave, you got sandpaper thighs going on”

Sorry, but I abhor stubbly legs and wild bush. Yikes!

for Irish girls

6. “I feel like I’m fucking my cousin”

I did actually. You got diversify the gene pool. I feel weird banging Irish girls.

for black girls

7. “You like that you fucking n!g*&r!?”

Hey, I like testing boundaries… (My Nigerian girlfriend of two years loved that shit)

for Asians

8. “Take it you penniless chinky bitch”

Maybe I should get help… why do I get off on this stuff?

for muslims

9. “Where’s your fucking prophet now you dirty slut”

Bad, bad idea. I might aswell have said I’m going fuck her grandmother.

10. Fart.

Wait for it…

“Sexy.”

Glascow in a word: Adequate.
C.O.H: 3.5 / 5
Q.O.G: 3 / 5
S.T.L: 4 / 5
City guide ratings explained

Costs €$£

Beer: Around €3 a pint.
Bed: €20 for a private room.
Bud: 1/8 for €20
Board: €7 for the biggest, baddest burger in town (@ O’Neills pub).
Budget other: The odd taxi.
Currency Conversion

Overview

Glasgow is adequate for a good weekend. As the third biggest city in the U.K, it is delightfully multi-cultural and the nightlife here is probably the best is Scotland. I’ve been here in the summer and the winter; I might as well have visited two different countries. Go in Summer.

The Girls

Glaswegians are a mixed bag, but there are of plenty options on the menu -  cute scotish blondes with euphonious accents, sexy eastern european immgrants or the much coveted asian imports. As a whole, the city hosts a liberal breed. One must remember this is Western Europe so standard rules apply; guys who use game will yeild results. Frankly, the competition is poor and if you do a little peakcocking even drunk game will work here. If you’re looking for something a bit more challenging and potontenially more rewarding, go to parks on summer weekends. They are  packed with arabs and hot forgeiners ripe for day game.

Nightlife Recommendations

The main artery of Glascows nightlife is along Sauchiehall Street.

Garage

This place is excellent. Garage is huge nightclub with serveral bars and areas for socialising. It has bands, great DJ’s and the women abundant; quite popular with students.

Capitol Bar

Cool alternative bar good for picking up, with live music and a decent quantity foxy & approachable girls.

Getting High (courtesy of webehigh.com)

Legislation: drug use is not an offense in the United Kingdom, but possession and purchasing are illegal.

Law Enforcement:
They mostly ignore the smoking going on blatantly around them unless there’s kids nearby or someone has complained. In practice, the courts usually impose a fine in cases involving cannabis products.

Where to Buy Marijuana in Glasgow:Latest reports say “You can Marijuana in Kelvingrove park, many people smoke it there. Just ask for it, they wont bite you. If not, in Townhead near Buchana Bus Station, ask some neds, they’ll help you out. Please play it cool with them. Also in the Barras, the place is full of it….just ask around. You will probably smell it too. Good luck!”

You may ask around at of the city’s vivid nightclubs or nightly cafes.
even on the street ask most people and they will sort you out or know some one who can. Via good friends don’t buy from dealers in street as they are often very dangerous in Glasgow.

Glasgow Marijuana prices: £60 ounce
if not u can get it for £20 or £40 depending on the dealer
1/8 mid/high £25

My Glasgow Experience

I’ve been here twice. Due to the city’s multicultural credentials, I felt in my element on my last weekend visit.  Each night I was utterly shit-faced on account of my long awaited emancipation from university but nonetheless, I k-close 2 girls and come just short of a full close with a third – blasted dorm rooms! Cheap beds really come at a price. This is a good place to hang out for awhile and clock up some flags.

Hanoi is memorable for its hostile faces, high end nightclubs and its 1.5 million motorcycles. Our experience there involved attempted murder, oral sex and robbery – we really knew how to party.

We checked into a little place on one of Hanoi’s many cosy streets. The area bustled with street hawkers and market stalls selling fruit and children’s toys. It was a long journey and we needed a beer. We were not on the street five minutes when we were approached by two Vietnamese chicks. There eagerness was off-putting and we managed to dismiss them off before entering a rooftop bar nearby. After a few cheeky pints watching the world cup, I was in the mood for a little something. “I’m going back to the room to smoke a splif” I announced. Paddy was clued in the TV and requested I return with his phone.

A few hours later around midnight, I wake up. The smoke had knocked me out. I grabbed Paddy’s phone and left the building to try and find him. The street which had been so active earlier was totally deserted. Shuttered and silenced, I had just stepped out to a ghost town. I start to walk to the local strip but was met by two familiar characters. “Hey, you remember me?” said one of two.  They took my hand and began groping me. “O you so handsome, where do you live?” they playfully suggested. “You so big, we give you free blow job!” they insisted. With all the attention I was getting in South East Asia, I was beginning to think they would be honoured to have my relatively larger Caucasian cock in their mouth. I showed token resistance but I didn’t put up much of a fight. They dragged me to the nearest laneway. It all seemed too good to be true, but I thought “Fuck it! Whatever…” They pinned me to the wall and went straight for my belt, ripped down my shorts and start exploring me with sloppy enthusiasm. It was awesome! A sight you could appreciate; two Asian girls cooperating in orally lavishing your cock and enjoying it too. They took my hands and directed me to grab both their hair, I obliged – they became the reigns to my servants. They worked hard. In the middle of wondering whether I had died and went to heaven, one of them popped up. “I go get condom!” she said, leaving her partner to continue the pleasure. I wasn’t keen on the idea of fucking girls who give blow jobs to strangers in laneways, but before I time to make an excuse the remaining girl halted. “Wait here, I look my friend” and with that, she scampered off! I was left there half naked in the laneway. This was fucked up. Naturally, I didn’t feel like hanging round so I pulled my pants up and tried to escape. I got to the main street just in time to see the two girls speed off on a moto… it was all rather confusing. What had just happened?

Within 30 seconds, I noticed Paddy walking towards me in the distance; it was nice timing. To my surprise he starts talking about the very same duo; “Hey man, you know those two girls from earlier?” My response alerted him “YEA-AH, they both just sucked me off down that laneway!” He started laughing, “O shit, one of them tried to pickpocket me during a moto ride! haha! Did they take anything?” It suddenly became abundantly clear what had just happened. After searching my pockets, I was the only one laughing.  They had robbed me of a measly amount of pocket change and made off with Paddy’s phone!

It was the best mugging ever!