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Introduction: How can one justify a Bettorsworld post about the Asian sex scene? Hey, people who ask stupid questions like that are the same idiots who wonder why Sports Illustrated publishes an annual swimsuit issue. It’s all about attracting readership. And the overwhelmingly male readership of Bettorsworld requested that I write the following report on the Philippines as well as a forthcoming one on Thailand. Who am I to deny this request?
Seriously, in my opinion posts like these don’t belong in a medium such as Bettorsworld, and I will never again submit material that is impertinent to sportsbetting. But, then again, maybe it is pertinent. I mean, after the players kill the books in baseball like they do every season, they’ll need a place to vacation, spend some of their winnings, and get their rocks off. Asia is just the place. Then, when the bookies destroy the players and get their money back during football, they, in turn, will be looking to blow-off the excess money and pent-up sexual energy that they accumulated during the pigskin season. Again, Asia is the answer. Now that I’ve rationalized this post, make sure the wife (or girlfriend) and kids are out of the room, and enjoy the report.
In his thick tome “Sex Havens of the World,” author W.G. Hill specifies, in no particular order, the 5 best countries for erotic travelers: Brazil, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, the Philippines, and Thailand.
The only one of the aforementioned countries that I have failed to visit is Brazil. And friends tell me not to bother. I’ve been to the Dominican Republic, and those women have the best bodies I have ever seen. However, the Dominican Republic sex scene for foreigners is not exciting enough, in my opinion, to warrant a special trip.
Regarding Costa Rica, I have visited the place once, in 1995 before it became the unofficial capital of the offshore gambling industry. And I actually ended up having a Costa Rican woman whom I met there come and live with me in San Diego for 6 months. (Note: The story had a happy ending, as she ended up meeting and marrying a nice attorney from neighboring Redondo Beach.) My take is that Costa Rica is definitely excellent as far as Latin America goes. And since many Bettorsworld readers work in the offshore business in Costa Rica, they can no doubt provide a far more informative description of the indigenous sex trade than I can.
To my mind, the Philippines and Thailand are on their own elite level as sex havens. Nothing that I’ve seen in Latin America compares to the sex scene in Asia. Of course, if you’re not turned-on by Asian women, then you’re probably better off looking elsewhere for cheap thrills.
Anyway, after concluding my Caribbean tour, my first stop in Asia was the Philippines, which I had last visited in 1991. And the first stop for anyone visiting the Philippines is Manila, the capital.
Manila is an ugly, air-polluted, and traffic-congested city. Aside from the luscious women it offers, it has few redeeming virtues. However, as a city it has dramatically improved since I last visited. Now there are unbelievably immense indoor shopping malls with upwards of 800 stores and restaurants. Every top international chain can be found. Just to name a few, I remember seeing Foot Locker, Robinson’s, Starbucks, Haagen-Dazs, Gucci, and Armani. The bottom line is that almost anything that can be found in America can now be found in Manila.
In fact, one night I dined at a TGIF’s and afterwards boogied on down to a Hard Rock Café to rock-out and meet the local babes. Only one problem: this Hard Rock Café played rap music, which I utterly detest. If the Hard Rock Café wants to play rap music, which should be banned, that is their business. But please, then, change the name of the establishment to the Hard Rap Café. Having a Hard Rock Café play rap music is like getting served fried chicken when you pay for a pizza at Pizza Hut; it is false advertising. With this in mind, and because my cover charge was not refunded, I have decided that I will pursue legal action. After I sue Tommy’s World Famous Hamburgers, my subsequent lawsuit will be against the Hard Rock Café for ruining my night on the town.
Before I proceed any further, I’ve got to warn you about the Manila ice cream scam. And this time I’m not talking about Haagen-Dazs prices. When I first got to Manila, I stayed at the City Garden hotel in the Makati section of town. One day when I was shopping at a nearby mall, a guy came up to me and introduced himself. He said that he was a security guard at the City Garden hotel and that he recognized me from there. At that point I remembered him. He then said that he was broke and needed money to buy ice cream for his daughter’s birthday. (According to him, his daughter and wife were elsewhere in the mall.) Feeling sorry for the guy, I gave him 5 bucks. Two weeks later, when I was staying at a different hotel in the Ermita section of town, I visited a different shopping mall. And guess what, a security guard from that hotel approached me, claiming that it was his daughter’s birthday and that he needed money to buy her ice cream. Presto! Now knowing the scam, I told him that it was an amazing coincidence that I was also broke and that I was in fact trying to find someone to give me money for ice cream for my daughter’s birthday. For some strange reason, he didn’t appreciate my humor.
Now, let’s get to the nitty-gritty: the Philippine women. The Philippines is, in my opinion, the best sex haven in the world. And the reasons for this are: 1) The Philippine women (Filipinas) are generally pretty, passionate, and ultra-sweet. Because the Spaniards significantly spit into their gene pool, many of them are very hot and exotic, and yet they retain the delightful yin nature that characterizes Asian women. 2) Filipinas all speak good English. English is their first 2nd language and they study it every year in school. 3) They love men with white skin. And because they worship American culture and most have relatives in the States, they really dig American guys. 4) Age is no big deal to many of them. For example, I know of a 19 year-old knockout marrying a 69 year-old guy. And it was definitely for love, not money. 5) The Philippines, except for aspects of Manila, is a super-inexpensive place. Sex is cheap--$40 or far less for the entire night. And living is also cheap. For example, you can rent a nice apartment in Angeles City, the sex capital of the Philippines, for less than $200 a month. 6) The Philippines is not only the best place for screwing your brains loose with wild young women, it is also the best place to find a wonderful, loyal, loving wife. I have two close friends in San Diego who are happily married to women they met in the Philippines. In fact, one of the guys actually married the younger sister of a Filipina I almost married 10 years ago. He wanted a sweet, young virgin, and yours truly was the matchmaker that made it happen.
You really don’t have to be a hunk to be a foreign sex star in the Philippines. For proof, just consider my physical stature, or lack thereof. Those who saw me in the Caribbean would attest to the fact that I am a runt-sized, average-looking guy. In fact, I might be the most average-looking guy who ever lived. Hardly a day in my life goes by when someone doesn’t tell me that I remind him/her of someone else he/she knows. For example, when I was in Aruba, Chester told me that I was a dead ringer for a friend of his. And listen to this amazing story: When I sat down at a bar in Angeles City, a guy thought I was a friend of his named Phil and offered to buy me a drink. My only regret is that I didn’t continue the charade longer and have him buy me a woman for the night. If I have any chance to get in the “Guinness Book of World Records,” my only shot would be as the most average-looking guy who ever lived.
Now, you are probably thinking that I don’t get the girls with my looks, but instead seduce them with my overwhelming charisma and irresistible charm. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. In reality, I have the personality of an earthworm and the social skills of John Rocker. What you see in this forum is not the real me; it is just a persona created to entertain Bettorsworld members. Usually, I bore the girls to death. Once I start telling them about the great scalps I’ve gotten, they fall asleep. And then, when I sprinkle some Johnny Walker Black Label on their heads to awaken them, they really turn-off.
The point I’m trying to make is this: If an average-looking 48 year-old guy with a low social IQ can be a sex star in the Philippines, imagine what you younger, studlier, more suave and sophisticated guys can achieve. You can be a Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt-type superstar. And if you want to get married—not something I recommend—then you can have the pick of the litter, so to speak.
The sex scene in Manila is varied and exciting. First, you have a slew of excellent girlie bars. The high-end girlie bars are located in the Makati section of town. Although the bar fine (what you pay the bar to take the girl to your hotel for the night) and drinks are over-priced due to the presence of rich Japanese businessmen, it is easy to cut-out the bar as a middleman and negotiate your own deals with the girls. I stayed at the City Garden Hotel, a really nice new hotel (so new, I was their first customer) that is right next to the street where all the Makati girlie bars are located. And, I’d simply hang out on the street and meet the bar girls that were coming from and going to work. I mean, I was a regular social gadfly. But once I flashed the greenbacks, I’d close the deal and simply either escort the girl directly to my hotel room or have her meet me there later.
In addition to the Makati scene, in regular Manila there is an outstanding
(the best in the country, according to some), very reasonably priced girlie bar called “Chaos.” And near Chaos is the Edsa Complex, a center that contains several more girlie bars.
Now, there is one little problem with the Philippine girlie bars: The girls, unlike in Bangkok, do not dance naked or topless. And you can blame this sad state of affairs squarely on the sick, suppressive, moralistic and hypocritical Catholic Church and its head honcho, the Pope. The Pope was actually instrumental in the early ‘90s in eliminating the girlie bar scene in regular Manila. Thankfully, it is now making a comeback. My advice to the Pope and his priests is this: Devote your efforts to something constructive, like eliminating the rampant sodomy and cover-ups of it in your own church. In recent years, countless Catholic priests have been found guilty of rear-ending young boys, and the Church, displaying its true colors, has improperly directed its energies to covering-up these dastardly and perverted acts.
Now, because I pride myself on being an objective guy, and because I feel guilty about having only presented the dark side of the Catholic Church, I want to balance the ledger by telling you a personal story that illustrates the redemptive side of the Catholic Church.
When I was about 9-years old, I was attending a public school and doing very poorly in math. My parents were very concerned and decided to send me to a private school. However, since there were no Jewish schools nearby, they enrolled me in a Catholic school. Well, in no time at all I was getting straight A’s in math. My parents, perplexed by my sudden and dramatic improvement, engaged me in the following conversation in order to determine the basis for my near-miraculous improvement:
Parents: Son, why are you now excelling at math? Is it because of a better teacher or stricter classroom discipline?
Me: No. The reason I’m doing better is because the first day I walked into math class at Catholic school, I saw a picture of a guy nailed to a cross. And I knew it was a warning that if I didn’t improve my math, the same thing could happen to me.
Although the Catholic Church and local government have diluted the Manila bar scene, which was absolutely unreal until the early 90’s, it has not ruined the women. The hookers that I paid for made love to me just like a wife or girlfriend would. And they did it all night long. And unlike many Mexican women I’ve had, the Filipinas didn’t waste unnecessary energy by crossing themselves before the sex act.
In addition to the girlie bar scene, there are numerous “houses” in Manila. These places are typically filled with dozens of girls to choose from. Taxi drivers, who get a cut if you choose a girl, can transport you to these brothels. Other venues for sex include massage parlors, various little bars sprinkled around the Ermita district in regular Manila, and coffee shops. I particularly recommend LA Café. That place was loaded with my type of women--sexy, sleazy, and seductive. Also, I shouldn’t forget the discos. The ones that I visited were frequented not only by regular women, but also by hookers.
By now, you get the picture: Manila is simply a great place for meeting and boning women. And, I could very happily have spent my entire Asia vacation there. But I was also eager to check out Angeles City, a sex haven that I had never visited before. Consequently, I grabbed the shuttle bus from the Swagman Hotel in Manila to Angeles, which is two hours away, and upon arriving, immediately began to investigate the local sex scene.
Angeles City, apart from its sex industry, is a dusty, dirty, totally unremarkable town. However, countless foreigners, including plenty of retired U.S. military guys who served at a nearby and now-defunct navy base, make it their home. Even Peter Strand (pen name MacGruder Horn), ” the preeminent writer on the Asian sex scene, has chosen to live in Angeles. Peter, who authored “A Gentleman’s Guide: The Erotic Women of Southeast Asia”, had previously lived in Thailand (for four years) and in Vietnam. He was even married, for a time, to a Vietnamese woman. However, Peter finally concluded--for the same reasons I listed earlier in this narrative--that the Philippines is the ultimate sex haven.
The Angeles City sex scene consists, for the most part, of a multitude of girlie bars, a few coffee shops, and a couple of discos located on or next to a long main drag. The bars are filled with hundreds upon hundreds of young Filipinas eager to get-it-on with tourists and locals. The girls are very friendly, and when you combine that with horny and inebriated guys, you get a refreshing party-type atmosphere. Hell, if you could get the Pope into one of these bars, give him a few drinks, and get him onstage dancing with the girls, he might even experience a Divine Vision of what Heaven is truly like. The least it would do is make him realize that a night in one of these bars is a hell of a lot more fun than a day at church.
Although the girlie bars in the Philippines are loaded with fine women, the hottest young babes can be found in the discos. The discos attract teeny-boppers who love looking and acting sexy. For these blossoming young femme-fatale wannabes, dancing is sexual foreplay, a chance for them to exercise their newly-found seductive goddess power over gaping males. Now, I certainly find it fun and challenging, not to mention sexually arousing, to pick up these non-hooker, teeny-bopper disco queens. However, to do so, I have to undergo the following metamorphosis: First, I put on long shorts that traverse my knees; second, I don a backwards baseball cap; third, I apply a couple of fake tattoos to my arms; and lastly, I remind myself to call everyone “dude.”
Altering my physical appearance to help bridge the 1.5 generation gaps that separate me from the teen-age disco queens is difficult enough, but a far greater ordeal is subjecting my body-mind to the god-awful disco rap and techno music that Asian discos play at eardrum-damaging decibel levels. And please, do not dismiss my rant against modern disco music as a predictable complaint from a reactionary old fuddy-duddy. For proof of my progressive taste, consider the fact that, though fast approaching 50, I still love hard rock n’ roll. From bands that I listened to in the late 60s— such as Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, and the Who—to more modern groups like the Scorpions, Pearl Jam, and Guns N’ Roses, I have continued to dig rock because of its melodic and soulful intensity. Contemporary disco music, on the other hand, offers nothing but drone-like, bass-heavy noise sans harmony and feeling. At least in the early days of disco, back when John Travolta starred in Saturday Night Fever, disco music was tolerable. Crossover rock groups like the Bee Gees did catchy disco tunes and top singers like Donna Summer added rhythmic numbers. But that is history. Disco music has since devolved into disharmonious mind-numbing noise. And, unfortunately for me, its greatest fans are the oblivious teen-age disco goddesses whom I worship from the bottom of my phallus.
Although I have only described the sex scene in Manila and Angeles, the Philippines does offer other options. First, if you lock-in on a particular babe and want to be alone with her, you can fly to an inexpensive and pristine beach resort. The finest in the Philippines is Boracay, a white-sand, clear- water island paradise that ranks with the best getaways in the world. Because my modus operandi is one-night stands, I have yet to make it to Boracay. But friends tell me it is truly beautiful.
I have also been told that if you move beyond Manila and Angeles to other cities, the pickings are easy and the cost negligible. For example, when I was at the Manila airport, I met an American guy who told me he owned a bar in Davao, a city a few hours drive from Manila. He said that Davao was great place to live and invited me to visit him there when I return. According to him, in Davao you can live super cheap and get all the women you’d ever want for almost nothing. Moreover, he insisted that these women would gladly fulfill your wildest sexual fantasies. Since the guy constantly referred to himself as 3-Hole Charlie, I believed him.
After spending a week feasting on Philippine femmes in Angeles, I returned to Manila for a day before flying to Thailand. Upon arriving in Manila, I immediately headed to a giant shopping mall to check out the stores, do some serious girl watching and, of course, scarf-down a pint of Haagen-Dazs. While sauntering around the Mall, I discovered, to my amazement, the Yokahama Surfing Cafe. What the hell was a surf café with a Japanese name doing in Manila, a third-world city hundreds of mile from any beach? Well, it turned out that the owner was a guy named Hiroshi Yokohama who at one time had lived in my old neck of the woods, San Diego. And Hiroshi even knew some of the same surfers that I did. Talk about a small world! Anyway, Hiroshi educated me about Philippine surf spots (even showing me videos) and then suggested that for a guy like me, who craved women and waves, the perfect spot to visit or live was the town of La Union. He himself operated a surfing school there and therefore was a part-time resident. According to him, La Union had the best overall surf in the country, plenty of girlie bars, and thousands of willing and able regular women. Moreover, La Union was only a two-hour drive from Angeles City. I was sold. My next long vacation will again be spent in the Philippines, and I’ll definitely be hanging 10 on the outrageous waves of La Union.
While I was hanging out in the Yokahama Surfing Café, I befriended a young man by the name of Joncy. Talk about an impressive dude! He was a highly successful Philippine stockbroker who had attended the finest U.S. schools. His command of the English language easily exceeded mine, and he was a veritable fount of wisdom concerning the Philippines. When he queried me about my experiences with Philippine women, I recounted the places that I had been to meet ladies. He laughed and then informed me that I had been socializing with the bottom of the barrel. He told me that I had been frequenting the same places as, what he called, the “Euro-trash.” According to him, the Philippines had a “layered social structure” regarding women. In other words, upper class Philippine guys like him got the best-looking and brightest babes; the rich Japanese got the second-level broads; and white tourists like me got the leftovers. He promised me that when I return to the Philippines, he’d set me up with the upper-echelon women normally reserved for elite Filipinos like him. Man, what a connection this guy could turn out to be.
To summarize: I don’t know which prospect has me more excited-- riding the waves at La Union or riding the upper class babes in Manila. All I know is that I can hardly wait to return to the Philippines. Hey, when does the baseball season end?
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