*Disclaimer - I am NOT for one minute attempting to make light of anyone's experience with sexual assault, rape or lady-boys, I am merely making fun of MY experience with sexual assault, rape, and lady-boys.

It has taken a while (a few months in fact) to get around to finally writing this entry in the 14 days of drunk tour diary, and to be honest I'm not entirely sure how I should write this without sounding, well... you know. I don't know exactly sure how to start, write or finish this post, but I do know that after keeping it pretty quiet for the first month or so after the boys return, the cat has been kinda let out of the bag, and well... seeing as though I now know I have absolutely zero dignity left, we might as well just get it out of the way. Ok? Ok.

... it all started about 15 minutes after Spenny tried to take on a heart attack sized helping of french fries (which can be seen HERE). Firstly you should know that serving sizes are way bigger at Bangkok McDonald's compared to Australian McDonald's, which is odd, because comparatively Thais are tiny and skinny compared to fat overweight Australian tourists. And secondly, it tastes WAY better than its Australian counterparts. Who says dog isn't an edible meat...

So after some lunch and shopping, we were kind of bored and had a few hours to kill before we would be going out for the night, so Hinton decided that we needed a Thai massage. Which made sense, I mean, if you are in Thailand you get a Thai massage. A one and one half hour massage for $10. Awesome yeah? Apparently not.

So Hinton approached a group of Taxi drivers to ask them for advice as to where we should go for massages. Now, lets just admit up front that mistakes were made on this trip, and certain things like "sensibility" and "common sense" were apparently left behind for this trip. So to make each "error of judgement" painfully obvious for this story, I have decided to number each one as it occurred.

**Error number ONE**If you ever see a group of taxi drivers just hanging around talking in Thailand, it is pretty much the same as seeing a group of Dennis Ferguson's hanging around outside a primary school, or a bunch of Lindsay Lohan's or Paris Hilton's racing off to a motel with a video recorder - you just know that something dodgy is going on...

So, as I said, Hinton decided to go ask a group of taxi drivers where we should go for a massage, which lead to the following exchange...

Hinton : "Do you know where we can go for a good nice massage?"

Driver : "Oh, you want Boom boom massage!".

Us : "Haha, um... no. Not boom boom massage"

Driver : " Ahh, you mean happy ending massage"

Us : "Um, no... not happy ending massage either... just a normal massage"

Driver : *looks us up and down disapprovingly* : "Oh, I know what you boys like - Come with me"

**Error number TWO**When a taxi driver looks a group of guys up and down and says "I know what you boys like" - it is in your absolute very best interests to clarify exactly what said taxi driver means by "I know what you boys like". Because sometimes what you like, and what the taxi driver THINKS you like, are two very different things. Very different. In this circumstance, a clarification is a good thing.

So the driver takes us down a heap of dodgy backstreets to a fairly traditional looking massage house. Drops us off, and we walk in. Now with all things Thai - there are two prices. One for Thais, and one for Tourists. So Hinton got down to the business of negotiation with the Madam (for want of a better word) of the massage house. Once they had agreed to price we were ushered into a preparation room, where two male attendants came in, removed the shoes of both Spenny and myself, and started washing our feet and legs. Which isn't totally unusual - often places like this have male attendants downstairs running things, with girls massaging upstairs.

Hinton - who had just finished negotiating was last into the preparation room. He sat down, and waited for his male attendant to come wash his feet. Only it wasn't entirely a male attendant. A figure with delicate features, makeup and long hair came in, knelt down and began washing Hinton's feet. Hinton went white. Spenny and I were doing our best to keep a straight face. Hinton had managed to pickup the first lady-boy of the holiday. We got a photo. Understandably Hinton wasn't happy. Well, maybe just a little happy...

**Error number THREE** When a lady-boy comes out and starts tenderly washing your feet and massaging your calves before a "Traditional Thai Massage" - it is probably safe to assume that Thai massage is going to be anything OTHER than traditional - and now is a great time to run.

So Hinton was lead upstairs to the massage rooms by his lady-boy - which lasted for around an hour and half, and from memory I am pretty sure that as much all I can remember happening in Thailand... so lets move on shall we? Seriously - nothing else dodgy happened that day. At all. Ever. Shutup.