Of course he used a fake address.
I didn't expect it to be his real address.
He was too paranoid to be honest like that.
We are talking about a man who won't be man enough to show himself on a webcam.
But isn't shy to ask for cash from a complete stranger.
At least a Thai hooker gives you a blow for cash.
Not with the poet.
He only looked down on you, calling you all names under the sun, from Fatty Boy to Crack Head, while expecting another gig from you.
'First I claw out his balls,' said Rosa, who was on her way to the Star of Love.
The poet loved to get high and receive blowjobs under the table.
This blow job bar on a tiny soi in Patpong relied on expats like him to keep their establishment afloat.
'Jodric?'
'Yes, what do you want?'
'I want to suck and then bight your cock off?'
The poet went into defense mode.
'How fucking dare you, I'm the best writer in South East Asia, so show some respect.'
'Yes,' says Rosa, 'I've read some of your beggar letters, very emotive...' it was the adult thing to do...' the adult thing was fucking over my son who has a message for you...'You couldn't write yourself out of glad wrap.'
'Dang, get this old bag out of here.'
Dang, the mammasan didn't respond. When she did, she said, 'put the fucking dog out of his misery.'
