Guest Columnist Richard Donnelly shares his enlightened view of the world...

Ladyboys. What do I know about ladyboys? Well, in my experience, once you´ve been accosted by one of ´em you ain´t likely to be keen on meeting too many more of ´em. So as soon as I saw just how tall our young Rebecca was I thought to myself, Tricky old chap, alarm bells are ringing! And for good reason too I may add. You see back in the days when I was a younger man wandering the outskirts of Singapore´s lesser known streets, a tall girl approached me (with a very similar height to our Rebecca, you´ll note) and grabbed yours truly by the short ´n curlys and gruffly promised, "I´ll give you good service!"

Well, as a young innocent abroad in those days it shook me to the quick, I can tell you. So since then I´ve learnt to look out for adams apples, facial hair and feet sizes! But with all ladyboys apparently it´s the height that gives ´em away - so as soon as our Rebecca stood up, old Richie had his guard up, and started checking out the size of her hands...

But whilst Tricky was thinking this one´s gonna be trouble, there´s our Jonty Rhodes asking her out for drinks in the bar. Well, if we had known then what we know now, would we have headed into the bar that infamous Friday night? Hindsight´s a lovely thing, you know, when you´ve got it but no matter how old you become there´s always one that gets through the safety net - as our poor Jonty has found out. Cos let´s face it dear blog reader, she´s not slow on the old uptake, is she now? Quizzing on left right ´n centre, she was in that bar. About the old yacht, where I´m from and how much money I´ve got or haven´t got more likely! Ordering litre bottle of beer one after t´other and coming out with jokes quicker than Mike Reid himself! So after we discovered that all was well in the ladyboy department (Rebecca does not own an adam´s apple), we got down to introducing ourselves which I suppose is what I should be doing now:

Name: Tricky Dicky
Address: Essex boy, that´s all you need to know, alright?
Age: 32, Scorpio (that´s what I tell the ladies anyway, sends ´em wild, tho´ they soon discover the truth!)
Height: Same as a ladyboy
Occupation: Gentleman Adventure Traveller on the "You Only Live Twice Tour 2-007" with the legendary Lord Jonty Rhodes

The point of this blog entry? Well, it´s worth noting down a few things about Old Lady Barrett, as she is affectionately known by her travelling companions. It´s also worth noting her affection for what is known as the old Cuba Libre. Bleedin ´ell, can that bird put a drink down her. Puts both me and the Lord Rhodes under the table in quick time, I can tell ya.

Only the other night we was out in some Argy bar samplin´ the locals´ partyin´. Pedros everywhere there was (Pedro: our slang for an´ Argentine bird or geezer), all of ´em singing away whilst our Old Lady B is ordering yet another Cuba Libre. There must ave been about ´alf a dozen of ´em celebrating a birthday. Either way there was some kind of raucous fiesta going on and then all-of-a-sudden one of ´em starts adancing with old Tricky ´ere. And shall we just say she weren´t on the small side neither. And these birds don´t just dance, not like me Romford lovelies anyway. No, these sorts like a bit of a wiggle and a twirl around. Before I know it, there´s Old Lady B clappin´ away encouragin´ this old thing to dance the wot-ya-call-it with me, all the others jeerin´ and a cheerin´ and this bird pushin er u-know-what into mine and me thinking well this is fine ´n dandy ain´t it, I´ve only gone and pulled a bleedin´ 45 year old local argy! One of ´er mates barges past Old Lady B (who, Cuba Libre in hand it must be added, is still encouraging these birds to dance with me) and comes up to me pointing to its mouth, indicating I should be kissing my new found woman-friend. Oh my gawd thinks I, can this get any worse?

How d´ya get out of this one, eh Tric? Well there´s nuthin´ else for it in these rummy siutuations but to run. Bein a bit sharp on me toes when it comes to leggin´ it from the birds, thankfully I knew just what to do. Tight spaces is the trick, you see. Cos they ain´t gonna follow ya thru a space they ´ave half a chance of gettin´ stuck in. So there I am runnin´ ´n squeezin´ between people ´n tables just trying to get to the other side. Minutes later Lord Rhodes and Old Lady B find me, expressing surpise that I didnt pull her. Jeesus Christ thinks I, if that´s the type I should be goin´ for then my old eyesight is getting worse than I thought - maybe I should be joining our Old Lady on the Cuba Libres...