Miss Fong in Hong Kong

A hairy wristband

2012-05-22T12:26:00.000+08:00

I know it's rude to stare, but last night, I saw something that I just couldn't tear my eyes away from.

He was standing across me in the MTR, looking rather normal for a Hong Kong dude (glasses, short black hair, T-shirt and jeans, and holding an iPad). It was probably his iPad that drew my eyes toward his wrist, which is how I noticed that he was wearing some kind of hairy wristband.

'Pretty neat,' I thought to myself as my eyes zoomed in, wondering what kind of material it was made of. It was super thick, so maybe faux fur? But then, the sudden realisation hit me that that was no wristband -- that was a GIGANTIC rectangular MOLE wrapped around his wrist with a thick forest of hair growing out of it.

Feeling a mixture of shock, fear and awe (it was, after all, the biggest and hairiest mole I've ever seen), my eyes were locked onto that dark patch of densely grown hair until its owner stepped off the MTR. Where he's gone, I have no clue, but one thing's for sure -- I won't be forgetting the hairy wristband anytime soon.

Your Yawn Face

2012-04-04T11:21:00.001+08:00

Manners are a funny thing. To some, they seem instinctual. To others (especially in Hong Kong), they don't even exist.

Take covering your mouth when you yawn as an example. Apparently, this manner was created in the medieval times in order to prevent the soul from escaping the body (no idea what happened if you opened your mouth to talk or eat).

Later, it became a practical thing. Back when people had horrible dental hygiene (read: none), it was a good way of shielding your friends and loved ones from your personal cloud of rotten breath.

These days, those original reasons may no longer apply, but I can still think of one very good reason to cover your mouth when you yawn.

This is how you look normally:

This is how you look when you yawn:

Now imagine turning a corner and seeing the yawning version of yourself for just a split second, and that's all you'll ever see. Great first impression, no?

Besides scaring the shit out of someone (who thinks you're about to attack), you also resemble a cross between a screaming baboon, shrieking zombie and wild banshee, not to mention that everyone can see right into the depths of your mouth (and anything you left there from lunch).

So, think twice before you go around with your yawn face, ladies and gentlemen, unless that's how you want to be recognized.

Get well soon, fruit man

2012-03-22T22:50:00.000+08:00

I used to buy my fruit cups from Fong Jie (Sister Fong) on Pottinger Street, right next to Shake 'Em Buns, until one day, they closed down abruptly and just disappeared. There was no sign to explain where they'd gone, and nothing to tell us whether they'd moved or just gone out of business. They'd always been pretty busy, so it didn't make sense why they would move or shut down.

Anyway, I was passing by two days ago right as another man was putting the finishing touches on the replacement shop in the same spot, so I stopped to ask him what happened to Fong Jie.

"Don't you know? She moved back to Tseung Kwan O," he said while sticking up a Japanese promotional banner on his fridge. "Her husband is sick, so she went to take care of him. She asked me to take over this spot. I'm usually over at the Bonham Strand location, you know, where all the other fruit stands are."

"Ohh..." I replied, wondering what happened to her husband. Was he that tired-looking guy who used to man the fruit stall in the mornings (you know, with the greasy glasses, half-closed eyelids, flared nostrils and giant beer belly)?

If so, I really hope he's okay. I never really got to know him, since our interactions were mostly limited to two line dialogues (Me: Fruit cup, please. Him: 12 dollars.) but there WAS this one time when we did say a bit more to each other.

It was right after a Caucasian lady had cussed him out for not accepting her 10, 20 and 50 cent coins, and I mean seriously had a fit, screaming and all, even though he had a sign on the window that said he didn't accept small coins.

After the bitch stormed off with her fruit, I was next and asked for a fruit cup, and he was obviously quite shaken and upset as he chopped up some fruit. I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say, but all of a sudden, possibly because I was the only person there he could vent to, he blurted out, "How am I supposed to accept those coins!? You tell me, who's going to take those from me after? Huh?! I'm not being unreasonable!"

I nodded in agreement and listened intently while he continued, making sure that I did not accidentally give him any small change. After his little rant, which seemed to leave him panting in exasperation, he handed over my fruit cup, I gave him my money and then continued onto work. I can only hope that in that moment, he felt somewhat relieved to know that someone else was on his side.

Anyway, I'm not sure if he's Fong Jie's husband or not (since I never dared to ask), but if he is, and he's sick, I hope he gets well soon!

Screw diets!

2012-03-04T22:21:00.000+08:00

There's something quite sobering about a haggard-looking woman in her 50s talking about the latest diet she's about to go on, especially when it's not even a new diet like the Dukan. Instead, she's planning on doing the prehistoric cabbage soup diet again (you know, the one where you eat cabbage soup for two weeks), in an effort to make herself bikini-ready for her next beach holiday.

While I'm no stranger to diets, I had always assumed that I'd give up on all that once I reached a certain age (say, 40 or 50). I mean, what's the point, really? Hopefully by then I'd be settled down and loved for every inch and roll that I have, not to mention a proud owner of a bakery opened with my cousin Sally (who will hopefully be just as round as me :).

In our 20s, it makes sense to go on diets if they help us look and feel better, but I can't imagine an entire lifetime of trying this diet and that diet, just to shift a bit of weight here and there. Beyond a certain point, you'd think we'd all just grow up and focus on what's inside, or have adopted a balanced enough lifestyle that didn't require us to go on weird diets that don't actually do anything in the long term.

So, after speaking to that woman and having dieted myself for the entire month of February (for a work assignment, I might add), I went home and ate a giant bowl of Ruffles sour cream and cheddar chips (followed by a few lychee jellies, Lindor chocolate balls, and some homemade chocolate chip cookies). Cuz, you know, there's always tomorrow... :)

Canto 101: Three-inch men

2012-02-19T09:05:00.000+08:00

Just when you were running out of insults for the short men in your life (there's only so many times you can call him shortie, lil guy, midget and Willow before he goes numb), here's another one for ya: three-inch nail (saam chyun deng, 三寸釘 ).

Yup, leave it to the Cantonese to come up with slang that's both creative and totally appropriate! Let's examine the ways in which 3-inch nails are similar to short men: they're both steely and cold, not quite long enough to be useful, and both can turn out to be complete pricks!

Haha, just kidding... of course that all applies to normal men as well. But, add to the fact that 'inch' in Canto also sounds like the word for 'arrogant,' and the whole thing starts to make more sense than you think.

Maybe I've got it wrong and three-inch nail is actually an endearing term for vertically challenged men. Anyone out there know? And if so, does that mean that three short men make 9-inch nails?

\m/ |>_<| \m/

Little Miss Blockhead

2012-02-16T22:32:00.000+08:00

There's a girl in my building whom I just had to immortalize into drawing. I see her maybe once a week, sometimes less, but each time, I'm shocked at how BIG her head is. Not only is it big, it's also totally block-shaped, thanks to her square jaw and thick, black hair that's cut and blown in the shape of a box.

Stupid happy blockhead

Sometimes, I'll see her strutting down the street alone with a big goofy smile on her face, apparently feeling very happy about herself despite not having anyone around (that always creeps me out) but once our eyes meet and she catches me staring, her expression immediately darkens and she casts a glare at me like she wants me dead!

Angry blockhead

I could be wrong, but her glare also seems to say, "What are you staring at, you jealous of what I got?!" It's downright creepy and I usually divert my eyes right away. Maybe it's all in my head, but I highly doubt it as my colleague has spotted her before and got "the chills" too. What have I ever done to you, Little Miss Blockhead?

All about locusts

2012-02-05T21:31:00.001+08:00

The war between Hong Kongers and mainlanders has been getting intense with the latest ammo fired being a full page newspaper ad that depicts our Northern neighbours as locusts.

Now, there's even a depressing Cantopop song and music video being circulated around that sums up all the reasons to hate mainlanders (ie. their spitting, squatting and shitting in public, not queuing up, coming to HK to have babies, buying up everything we can't afford, being loud, being ugly, the list goes on and on).

I didn't really get the locust reference at first, but the more I read about these creepy crawlers, the more I understand...

You see, locusts are actually large grasshoppers who behave as individuals when there aren't that many of them around. BUT, the moment that a crowd of locusts form, they suddenly lose all sense of identity and kick into herd mentality, banding together in gangs of up to 40 billion (!!) and swarming to destroy everything in sight.

Scary, isn't it? Then, there's the theory of how they managed to fly across the Atlantic Ocean to get to the States way back when. Since there's no way they could have flown the whole way, the theory is that locusts flying at the front of the swarm may have died in the ocean and formed floating rafts of corpses for other members of the swarm to land on. The survivors then cannibalized the corpses to get more energy to keep flying all the way to America. *shudder*

And, you know what, a single migratory locust eats its own body weight in food each day, which is about 60-100x as much as we would eat per day! Talk about over-consumption.

An LV locust -- how appropriate.

So anyway ... back to the mainlanders. Unlike locusts that can be sprayed with pesticides or crushed under our feet, there's really nothing anyone can do about the invasion of mainlanders. And the fact is, they're not only in Hong Kong, they're taking over the world.

This couldn't have been more clear last week when I thought I was going to one of the most remote island paradises in the world. Instead, we were greeted by a resort packed with Chinese tourists -- yep, the kind that travel in big groups, let their kids pee anywhere they like and hoard all the food from the dinner buffets. Sigh.

There was even a mainland couple on our diving trip to Sipadan, whom I wouldn't have minded had Mr. Big 6 been a better scuba buddy. However, he turned out to be a selfish, childish idiot who kept swimming around recklessly to chase and harass all the fish, turtles and sharks, cutting off the other divers and kicking us in the face with his fins. He even told me to take pictures of him doing so, which I obviously ignored while secretly hoping for a live viewing of shark attack (which sadly didn't happen).

Obviously, not all mainlanders are gross, selfish and disgusting, but when you group them together into one gigantic mass of locusts, it gets pretty hard to see any beauty in that.

Tapping the reef

2012-01-31T23:55:00.003+08:00

After six consecutive days of diving in the pristine turquoise waters of the Celebes Sea, you could say that I'm going through a little bit of withdrawal. So much so that I, someone who usually hates playing any kind of computer/iPhone game including Angry Birds, Plants vs. Zombies and the like, have downloaded Tap Reef 2, a mind-numbingly pointless game where 3D fish and turtles swim around in an artificial reef and wait for me to feed, pet and even breed them (hey, it's a form of exercise).

So far, I've got Edwards the red snapper, Dolores the green sea turtle, Walton the jelly fish and Barr the Atlantic cod (pre-named, of course) swimming around in my reef, and for some odd reason I've also got an aztec pyramid in the background of my reef. I'm still waiting to earn enough sand dollars to trade in my common sea creatures for some of the more exotic breeds that I saw in Malaysia like the toothy Titan Triggerfish, you-cant-see-me Painted Frogfish or maybe the cute as a button and doe-eyed Black Blotched Porcupinefish?

The game is actually a little like a tamagotchi from the '90s, prompting you when the fish are hungry and/or lonely, or when they've matured into adults for breeding. The only thing different is that when the fish die (which hopefully won't happen to mine), you can actually resurrect them with some points or cash, but I haven't figured that part out yet.

Meet my fish!

For now, Tap Reef 2, with its eerie background music and somewhat annoying underwater bubble sound effects, is (sadly) the closest thing I have to being back in the deep blue sea swimming among schools of jackfish, barracudas, sharks, bat fish, puffer fish, corals, sea turtles, etc... Oh, by the way, the app is FREE so if anyone out there is interested in or already playing it too, let me know, we can cross breed! ;)

Cockroach CSI: Death by Coffee Drowning

2012-01-14T02:03:00.000+08:00

As mentioned before, I am a total cockroach magnet. At my old job, the cockroaches LOVED my corner cubicle and now, we share our tiny SoHo office space with a very fertile family of miniature roaches, who have been spotted anywhere from my desk to the cubicle walls to the secretary's phone.

Luckily, the mini roaches mostly come out at night when we've all gone home for the day, but sometimes the next morning, we'll find them in the strangest places -- like in our coffee mugs. Yup, one morning, I found two dead roaches in the bottom of my coffee mug when I was rinsing it out, and I'm guessing it went a little like this:

Big Roach tells Little Roach how nice it would be to go skinny dipping in a creamy cup of Hong Kong style coffee.

Little Roach struggles to keep afloat in the coffee, while Big Roach relishes in the fact that there'll soon be one less mouth to feed in the "megaherd" of roaches, meaning more crumbs for him!

Big Roach loses his footing while laughing and slips into the coffee as well, where both of them die a slow and painful death since they are highly caffeinated and do not slip into unconsciousness until about an hour later.

Moral of the story? Roaches should wear slip-resistant footwear when walking on slippery surfaces like coffee mugs. Crocs, take note, you've got a new set of customers (with six feet each)!

Jacky Cheung: King of Cantopop

2012-01-05T00:35:00.001+08:00

I don't have posters of him on my walls, I don't have his name in LED lights, nor do I even really know what he's singing about BUT -- I have to say I'm a huge fan of Jacky Cheung (not to be confused with that silly fool Jackie Chan)!

I guess it all started back when I was just a '90s tween in Canada. Jacky had come to perform at this small theatre stage in Vancouver, and I remember running down the aisle every few minutes to take pictures of him dancing around in an Austin Powers'-esque costume. At the end of the show, I ran down to the stage again, hoping to meet Jacky in person, but all I could find, after hoisting myself halfway onto the stage, was his used white facial towel draped over a speaker on the stage.

Of course, I snatched that towel and brought it home with me, proud that it had the orangey markings of Jacky's make-up on it as well as ONE strand of short black hair. I folded it and kept it in the bookshelf above my bed, thinking it was pretty damn cool (until, one day, I think my Grandma washed it).

Anyway... flash forward to today...

I've just been lucky enough to have seen his 1/2 Century Tour for the second time in Macau, and he is definitely THE reigning 'King of Cantopop'! At the age of 50 (half century, get it?), Jacky can still sing, dance, and act with the gusto of a 20-something year old, all without a gasp or falter during his entire three-hour concert.

As you may know, cantopop concerts are known for lasting an eternity so you'd better be a huge fan of whoever's performing to go to one (or really like waving glow sticks in the dark to the beat of local music). In Jacky's case, every single minute of his concert was a blast!

The show started with a tap dance performance (which I'm not quite sure was real or not), followed by a steady slew of hit songs and accompanying videos that matched the songs. For example, for his song "花花公子" (Playboy) he played a sneaky ladies' man who notices Shu Qi at a party, and then you see scenes of them dating happily around Macau, getting married, and eventually fighting as their relationship crumbled and turned bitter. Lots more happens in the show but don't worry, I won't give it all away.

The show's highlights were:

Jacky's jazz hands all throughout the show
The dance rendition of his earlier hit songs using the same retro dance moves
Jacky doing the SPLITS (no joke!)

The low point (as mentioned by my bf) was:

Jacky BURPing into the mic after the sweaty dance rendition (he IS local, after all!)

In any case, I highly recommend going to see the "King of Heavenly Kings" when he finishes off his 1/2 Century Tour in Hong Kong in May 2012 if you haven't already seen him at one of his previous 100 shows (yup, he's been touring for an entire year already)! And don't worry if you don't have a clue what he's singing about, neither do I! :)

Here's a little preview:

Banana and peanut lady in Central

2011-12-21T09:00:00.000+08:00

I wanted to blog about this old lady in Central over a YEAR ago when I first started working in that area, and thankfully, she is still around for me to blog about today. No offense to her at all but she is probably near 100 years old if not older, and I really hope that she has a lot more years to live!

Located on the corner of Gage Street and Lyndhurst Terrace, the Banana and Peanut Lady is a withering old Chinese woman with sunken-in cheeks and a thin black ponytail. She sells bananas and peanuts next to the fruit stand across 7-11 and is usually there for most of the day. I don't know why she's still working as she's so fragile and petite, but my guess is that she's been there all her life and likes it(?) or has to do it to sustain herself (in which case we should all give her a little extra for her bananas and peanuts).

She's usually wearing a traditional two-piece Chinese outfit in all black, and now that the weather's cooler she has an extra coat on. I also noticed that her thumbnails are super long, as opposed to her pinky fingernails. Maybe I'll work up the courage to ask her what she's doing there the next time I pass by... (I know, I'm shy)!

Cockroach CSI: Death by Tobacco

2011-12-18T16:00:00.000+08:00

No matter what time of year it is in Hong Kong, you're likely to see one of the city's most infamous tenants crawling around: the cockroach. In the summer, they are out in full force, scurrying along sidewalks, climbing up the walls, and sometimes (if you're unlucky) flying right into your line of sight.

Now that it's winter though, cockroach sightings are much more rare, but that doesn't mean they're gone. In fact, most of the times I see cockroaches these days is when they're dead. Squished, flattened, stomped on, or worse, have you ever wondered what actually happened right before the cockroach was killed?

Introducing ... Cockroach CSI: an investigation into the lives (and death) of our city's rampant roaches. First up is a cockroach I saw in Wanchai last year, an image that I will never forget as it was such a vivid one.

I was on Jaffe Road right across Joe Bananas when I looked down before crossing the street. And, there, right next to my foot was a dead cockroach on its back, clutching onto a cigarette butt. I kid you not, his six legs were literally wrapped around the cigarette butt!

It's clear how this cockroach died: death by tobacco. After a long night of partying with the call girls in Wanchai, this roach thought of winding down with a still-lit cigarette butt that landed just a few inches from him. After taking one long puff, he choked to death on all the nicotine, smoke and tar that filled his little lungs. So, the lesson here is, hanging out in Wanchai will kill ya!

Have fingers, will make FIMO

2011-12-15T02:42:00.000+08:00

Dance when you still have legs, eat crab whilst you still have teeth ... make FIMO while you still have fingers! Yes, these are the types of thoughts that swirl around in my head at 2am in the morning, especially when my palm continues to throb after today's traumatic experience at work.

You see, after one year on the job, I've learned to be quite careful when it comes to opening press releases in the mail. Since I don't have a letter opener, I usually rip the envelope open with my thumb, take the folder out and flip through carefully to not get cut by the crisp sheets of paper.

Today was no different, and I thought I'd done a pretty good job being all delicate with the papers. That is, until I decided to re-seal the envelope before throwing it into my makeshift recycling bin. As I slid my fingers across the top of the envelope, my palm was sliced open by a protruding staple, which nearly severed my thumb off and left a big, 2-inch bleeding gash.

After staring at it and screaming silently for a few minutes (we work in a quiet office), the pain set in and the not-so-silent whining began (which, as you can tell by this post, has yet to end). In any case, I'm very thankful to still have my thumb attached, and while it's still here, I have decided to reactivate my Etsy page and resurrect my hobby of crafting tiny things out of FIMO.

Billy the Bolobao, Jacky the Jaa Leung and Harry the Har Gow

If you've never heard of FIMO, it's this awesome coloured clay from Germany that you can shape things into and bake in the oven to set permanently. For those who DO know what it is, I realize I'm not eight anymore but hey, didn't anyone tell you the '90s are back? And I'm bringing FIMO back with it! Keep an eye out for new additions to my Etsy store once my thumb is healed, oh and feel free to place an order if you see anything you like! :)

The funniest Donnie Yen video ever

2011-12-07T23:30:00.000+08:00

In honour of my latest sighting of Donnie Yen last Friday in Central (wearing a puffy neon orange jacket and gold rimmed sunglasses), I just had to dig up this video of him on YouTube for anyone who's never seen our beloved "Ip Man" as a b-boy back in the '80s!

I'd also just like to make clear that I am not at all sexually attracted to Donnie Yen (like my cousin and sister are...) The latter of whom has just made it my mission to track down Mr. Yen and serve him to her on a silver platter for her enjoyment... eww!!!!!!! Watch out Donnie -- if an older version of Miss Fong jumps you on the street, it wasn't me!

Gentlemen, start your cameras...

2011-11-20T22:18:00.001+08:00

Despite NOT being a speed freak, I found myself peeling my eyelids apart at 6am this morning to catch the puke-mobile over to Macau for the Grand Prix today, and I think I finally understand what all the fuss is about.

Besides the actual races, drivers, crews, booze and the "it's-so-loud-I-can-feel-my-stomach-jiggling" roar off the tracks, let's face it -- it's all about the hoochie mamas!

Check out this crowd of pervographers surrounding these leggy ladies:

You can clearly see that some photographers are already falling in love...

And, you can practically hear the jolly laughter coming out of this chubster as he sandwiches himself between these two leng-mos:

(Note the built-in thong design of her skirt -- such a considerate design for anyone seeking a skanky look that doesn't compromise on comfort!)

So, although the 58th Macau Grand Prix has wrapped up for this year, I'm sure these men will have plenty of material to stroke their telephoto lenses at until the next race rolls around.

Venture Studios in Hong Kong: Where a picture is (not) worth a thousand bucks

2011-11-18T09:00:00.000+08:00

I recently saw Venture Studios on a Groupon Hong Kong deal and as a (fellow?) Groupon addict, I must warn anyone who's thinking of buying it to STOP RIGHT THERE! The deal is HK$999 for a 1-hour photography session and a 1-hour design consultation, plus your favourite image framed in an 8x10" size.

Although this offer might sound pretty sweet, you can actually get the exact same deal for HK$500 on any regular day, plus a few more freebies (read: cash vouchers) thrown in whenever there's a special occasion like Christmas, Chinese New Year, Mother's Day or Father's Day, etc.

I tried Venture earlier this year and I must say first and foremost that they are actually pretty damn awesome at what they do. Take a look at their portraits and you'll see that they're really good at capturing people's unique personalities in a really natural way.

For our photo session, we were told to bring a bunch of objects that represented us, so for me, that was a box of chocolate chip cookies, orange Queen's Day hats from Holland, our cats Dusky & Cheese Puff, while C brought some books and a cigar... In that hour, we had a blast as the photographer got down in all sorts of positions to snap away as we tickled each other, fought for cookies and basically just goofed around.

I thought it'd be easy to pick just one picture to be printed out on the 8x10" frame, but when it came time to come back to view the pictures (aka. the "design consultation"), the Venture guys knew exactly how to wrangle our weak spot.

First, they seat you in their little private theatre where they've prepared a moving slideshow of your touched up images. The light dims, music starts, and the pictures start to roll... Of course, after 10-15 minutes of seeing yourselves in all your Photoshopped glory, which ends with the tagline, "The most important story ever told...yours", you'll definitely want to have more than just ONE measly 8x10" print-out. But here's the thing:

Suddenly, every item you want printed is costing in the HK$1,000's
Many of the images are best sold in sets, as that's how the photographer got you to pose in 'em (cookie-themed photos, orange themed photos, etc), which means more $$$
They tell you you can't hang your free 8x10" frame on the wall, and all the pictures are sealed in the Venture frames so you can't even reuse the frame in the future
Even if you just want the digital copy of your photos, you'll only get a maximum of 20 pics for about HK$15,000, which are locked at a low resolution and cannot be printed out, and only viewable as desktop screen savers
Oh -- and you have to decide on your purchase within your 1-hour consultation otherwise your pictures will be deleted the next day and the discounted promotional offers are no longer valid

Talk about intense pressure! All the while, the sales person is going, "Aren't your memories worth it?" while you're thinking, maybe, but then again, we could go out and buy a pretty decent camera and rent a studio for less money than what you're asking for...or just find another photographer :P

In the end, we caved and did end up buying more photos, starting out with the original (insane) plan to buy a set of three mounted wall images for about HK$15,000 but eventually "coming to our senses" and buying just three more 8x10" images for a total of HK$5,200.

Stupid, huh? Especially when those photos are still lying in their boxes by our front door. So is Venture worth it? YES if you are really strong and will only take your free 8x10" pic, NO if you are any bit emotional about memories and willing to pay big money for them. Don't say you weren't warned!

Say NO to Butt Munching Pants

2011-11-17T22:26:00.000+08:00

I'm no fashionista, but I think I have a pretty good sense of what looks bad on me, and therefore, on other people. And what usually looks ~~bad~~ horrific are BUTT MUNCHING PANTS.

I encountered an extremely active butt munching pant the other day as I was walking behind this woman in the MTR, and I just couldn't stop myself from staring at her butt. Granted, I'm usually staring at people's butts (hey, it started in high school) not out of perviness but just because it's the most interesting and dynamic part of a person's backside (it's big, it moves, it usually has a face, etc.), wouldn't you agree?

So this particular woman's butt was wearing a pair of what were once baggy, bright blue short shorts -- culottes, really, but I doubt anyone really uses that word anymore -- and the butt had eaten up most of the excess fabric, chewing it rigorously with each step the woman took. It was really as if it had its own face, mind and identity, and as I stared at it, it stared back at me, munching quicker and quicker whilst jiggling its cheeks.

When I finally snapped out of my trance and managed to look away, I promised myself to never, ever wear butt munching pants. EVER! And so should you.

FYI: Butt munching pants occur when someone's pants are so far up their ass that it appears that their butt is actually munching on them. Things that can cause this to happen include tight ass pants, extremely thin, silky pants, or sometimes just a big ass booty that hasn't been fed in a while! (from UrbanDictionary.com)

Beggar on a buggy

2011-11-07T22:10:00.000+08:00

The other day, I was walking along the bridge to Central Pier when I came across a Hong Kong beggar lying face down near the entrance to IFC on the Apple Store side. He seemed "normal" enough: missing both legs, dressed in dark clothing, with disheveled short black hair. As usual, no one took notice, and since I was in a rush to get to The Watermark, I sped walked my way past too.

On my way back though about an hour later, I found myself walking behind a guy in a mini-buggy, which was essentially a motorized red tin box on three wheels, and guess who was driving? The same legless beggar as before!!

Usually, I try not to stare long or do double takes with beggars since it might make them self conscious, but I couldn't help it when I walked past this beggar on a buggy. Not only was he in possession of a pretty awesome ride, he was also checking text messages on his phone, which despite being a Nokia had a pretty pimpin' gold keypad.

I walked next to his buggy for a while to see if I could read his text messages (I couldn't), and to verify if it was in fact the same guy, which I'm pretty sure of since he was missing legs at the same spot as the other guy.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so bad for him anymore. Could it be, that he is perfectly okay with the way he is? Texting his wife to tell her he'll be home tonight earlier than usual? Or is he plotting with his pimp where he'll lie face down to pull at our heart strings next? And ... where does he usually hide his buggy? Oh mysteries...

No need for speed

2011-11-03T00:11:00.000+08:00

Last week, I found myself sitting in a boxy race car simulator at Sideways in Hong Kong with a pair of big headphones over my ears and someone else's black socks on my feet. "Vroom-vroom" was all I could hear as I sped through the circuit, mixed in with the sound of tires screeching as I skidded around, followed by extremely jerky left-right-left-right swerving of the wheel each time I tried to get back on track. When the screen finally told me I could stop, or more accurately, that I had lost, I breathed a big sigh of relief that it was over.

"Great job, guys," said the venue owner as I took off my headphones. "Now, are you ready for the REAL race?"

"What...?!" I asked. "I thought we just did that!"

"Haha, that was just the warm up!"

Arrrghhh..... -____-" So, off we went again, this time "for reals" and of course, I ended up with a slower and worse time than ever before. This time, my eyes were straining out of my sockets as I tried to stay on course, gripping the wheel with white knuckles and tensing up my thighs and calves as I stepped on the pedal clumsily. It felt like an eternity that the race went on, and by the time I hit my fifth wall, I pretty much gave up. Finally, someone crossed the finish line and put me out of my misery.

Walking out of this experience, I thought, "How could that possibly be fun?" To me, the racing simulation made me more stressed, agitated and annoyed rather than thrilled and entertained. I could only imagine how it'd be in real life if I had to drive a race car -- yep, I'd crash and burn in under five seconds.

Now if only they had a few simulators at the venue that catered to people like me, where I could choose my favourite car to drive in -- the pink Toyota Echo circa 2000, of course -- and get points for driving within the speed limit, stopping for seniors and/or a family of ducks crossing the road, slowing down at school zones, performing a perfect parallel park and maybe even score a few extra points for pimping up my car with cute seatbelt covers and a few gerberas on the dash. Yep, that would SO be my kinda game. Now where are you developers at?!

I <3 this pink Toyota Echo!

Crankie cabbie

2011-10-20T00:15:00.000+08:00

Today, I managed to piss off a Hong Kong cabbie quite royally, and it all started when I got into his cab at Hollywood Road and told him to drive me to 'Central Plaza'.

"Cen-tral Pla-zaa," I said to him in my best Honger accent.

He stared at me through the rear-view mirror with an annoyed expression in his eye and eyebrow (that's all I could see of him).

"Um... Zhong-Wan Pla-zaa?" I tried again.

"What are you saying?" he said in Cantonese, obviously annoyed.

"You know, Zhong-Wan Dai-Ha in Wanchai?" (where 'dai-ha' meant 'building', or so I thought)

"You mean Zhong-Wan Gong-Cheung!" he gruffed back. "Pla-zaa! Get your buildings straight, you don't know what you're talking about!"

"Uhh...I'm not from around here," I said. "What's 'dai-ha' then?"

"Dai-ha is HOUSE, gong-cheung is PLAZA!" he nearly shouted at me.

"Okay, okay, now I know," I muttered back, thinking 'Same-diff, yeesh!'.

Five minutes later, as I ruffled through my bag, I came to a sudden heart-dropping realization that I had forgotten my wallet at the office, and was therefore riding in his cab without a single cent of money (OH SH!T.) Annnnd, of course, my phone was at 5% battery and ready to die.

I decided to play it cool and not let the cabbie know, while in my head I started wondering what I could give him in exchange for the ride over (nothing sexual -___-). Inside my bag was a nasty old orange umbrella, an eel-skin business cardholder, and a red and white Canada lanyard I'd bought in a dollar store back home (so, basically nothing).

I couldn't even ask him to go to an ATM since I didn't have my debit or Octopus card on me. In the end, I made a desperate call to the people organizing the event at Cen-tral Pla-zaa and managed to explain my situation, and they agreed to come down to the taxi stand and pay my cab fare (phew).

Of course, when I finally told the cabbie the news as he was pulling up to Cen-tral Pla-zaa, he was anything but happy.

"What?! You know I can't stop here," he complained. "Once someone comes I'm going to have to move!"

"I know, sorry," I said, and then sat silently waiting for my rescue.

He continued, "What is this, some kind of joke? I've never had this happen to me before, geezus..."

We sat in silence again as the meter beeped every few minutes.

"Oh great, now there's someone behind me. See, now I have to move my car!" he whined.

A few minutes later, he added, "I can't believe this is happening. I'm about to get off work and you pull this kind of shit on me--" and that was when I had just about enough.

"What, you think I wanted this?!" I yelled at him. "You think I forgot my wallet on purpose!?"

That shut him up for a few awkward minutes before he got heckled again by the building staff to clear the area. As they bantered back and forth about whether anyone was coming at all, the receiver of my collect-cab finally arrived, paid my cab fare and released me from my cabbie hostage situation.

FREEDOM NEVER FELT SO GOOD!!

Things that make me cringe

2011-10-19T00:52:00.000+08:00

Even though I've lived in Hong Kong for the last three years, there are still so many things that make me cringe, curse or want to punch someone out. You'd think that I'd have gotten used to it by now, but nope. Here they are in no particular order:

Gross, yellow, plaque-stained teeth that could so easily be prevented by daily brushing
Chewing and talking with clumps of food sloshing around inside of your mouth for everyone to see (please stop)
Talk of funky dancing and whether "it really works" (first of all, stay away from funky dancing aka. aerobics on crack and secondly, stop obsessing about losing weight!)
People talking on the phone next to you in the MTR that have such bad breath you literally want to tell them about it
People not yielding at all when you're walking past them so you end up sliding and rubbing your bodies up against each other (especially when it's a fat dude!)
Whenever someone proudly says, "My husband works in China from Monday to Friday so we only see each other on weekends."
The sight of the short ~~troll~~ woman in my building with a square-shaped head, pimply skin and the an idiotic smile on her face all the time (super yeung seui!)

Funny enough all of the above happened today in the vicinity of just a few hours... *CRINGEx100*!!

Me 1 - Gnats 50

2011-10-10T22:53:00.000+08:00

This weekend, I scored my first ever goal for my soccer team (yay!)... OK so it was just a friendly game against a bunch of Hong Kong men in their 50s, but it was still a pretty awesome goal.

How it went down was -- I happened to be in front of the goal when a shot was fired by my teammate Carrie from the right side, which hit the top goal post and came bouncing towards me. Out of reflex (or skill, but highly unlikely), I bounced the ball off my chest and then kicked it over the goalie’s right shoulder straight into the goal (crowd roars while announcer shouts ‘GOOOOOOOOOOOAL!’).

Suhweet, eh!? While the high-5s from my teammates and shocked expressions from the old men were pretty damn satisfying, I knew I was only in the right place at the right time, which obviously counts for something in soccer. At that point, I was so exhausted from running around for 40 minutes straight in 29C weather on a bumpy pitch that I decided to take a break on the sidelines. Little did I know that there was an army of gnats (read: pin-sized blood-sucking mini-mosquitoes) waiting to start their all-you-can-eat Miss Fong buffet.

Within two minutes, all of my limbs were itching like crazy and the creepiest thing was I couldn’t see any bugs at all. I thought it might have been my imagination at first, but the 15-20 red bite marks I found on just one leg alone the next day proved otherwise. Not to mention how insanely itchy all of the bites are!! Gaaah... I think I have about 35-50 bites in total just on my legs, some of which are so close together it looks like I’ve got the chicken pox all over again! Damn you, invisible gnats!

So the lesson here is: bring bug spray to soccer games and... what you can’t see CAN bite you (deep, I know).

A crotch cabaret at BISOUS

2011-09-19T00:57:00.000+08:00

I can't say I've ever seen a burlesque show before, but I definitely had something else in mind than last night's performance(s) at BISOUS.

Let's first clarify that I wasn't there to see the BISOUS girls at all, but a man called Russell Simmons, aka. the 'godfather of hip hop' and founder of Def Jam, who happened to be in town for Diamonds In The Sky, Hong Kong.

The event started out pretty cool with DJ Bravo spinning old skool hip hop tracks with videos projected onto the big screen, but before long, the curtains were drawn and out came the BISOUS gals.

Don't get me wrong, the girls had great bodies, which is probably good enough for most, but something about the perfectly balanced girl group (1 brunette, 1 blonde, 1 black, 1 asian) just bothered me...

It started with some cheesy lip-synching, followed by an insane amount of crotch-flashing. What made it even more creepy was the overly ecstatic, plastered smiles on the girls' heavily made up faces. And instead of being subtly seductive like I expected from burlesque dancers, the BISOUS gals strutted around the stage like horny peacocks, making shrill 'YEOW!' and 'WOOPEE!' sounds as they kicked their legs up behind their ears, did the cartwheels off one another and jumped up and landed in the splits (with a big THUD sound and collective "OUCH!!" from the audience).

During the totally cliche yet obligatory can-can dance, the girls lifted up and waved their frilly skirts around so much that I got tired of seeing all of them crotches, no matter which direction they kicked their legs out to make it look different each time.

If you happened to miss out on the show, here are a few scenes from it that will forever be etched into my head (and now yours too, unfortunately):

Hope you enjoyed "the show"!!

Canadian vs. Hong Kong beggars

2011-09-04T02:23:00.000+08:00

During my trip home recently, I was heckled by a few Canadian beggars and I couldn't help but notice the differences between them and the ones here in Hong Kong.

While Hong Kong beggars get loads of pity points for missing limbs, charred skin or self-mutilation tactics, I hardly ever see anyone stopping to give them money, let alone a second glance.

On the other hand, Canadian beggars seem to be quite good at getting us to notice them and emptying our pockets. Wondering why this was the case, I came up with three things that Hong Kong beggars could learn from the Canadians to up their daily income:

1) Be friendly

So I was walking by a liquor store in downtown one night, and a beggar standing outside saw me shivering and asked, "Aww, are you cold?!" I didn't dare answer him nor make eye contact since a) he was a stranger and b) it was late at night, but as I quickened my pace to get away from him, he shouted after me, "Oh well, Happy Monday!!"

Of course, I felt horrible for running away from such a "nice guy" and it's not only him -- it's exactly the same when you come across squeegee boys at a stoplight and tell them that you don't want your freakin' windshields washed (by a dirty bum like you), only to be told, "Alright, no worries, have a nice day!" So even if you don't end up giving them any money right then, you're more likely to do so the next time you encounter a bum thanks to the cumulative guilt trip you've built up.

2) Be apologetic

While typical beggars hold up selfish signs like "Please Give" or "Help Me I'm Broke," the ones I saw in Canada amused me with their honest and apologetic messages. Case in point -- one beggar held up the following sign:

Genius, isn't it?! By adding the "I am sorry," the person passing by goes from thinking, 'Go get a job, you selfish bum' to 'Oh well, since you're sorry, I guess it's not your fault, here's some change, ya poor thing'.

3) Be honest, kind of, not really

Lastly, I came across another beggar in downtown who was just sitting on his a wad of newspaper outside of a 7-11. Next to him was a suitcase with a cane sticking out of it, and he was busy doing Soduku or crosswords (or whatever it was, he was completely enthralled with it.)

In front of him, a little tent card read, "Facing eviction. If you CHOOSE to give ... thank you. NOT for drugs or alcohol." That was enough to get me to give him a toonie ($2), since it's the least I could do to help keep a fellow Canadian off the streets.

OK, so whether he was telling the truth or not isn't really the point. The point is that his sign worked, so maybe the real lesson here is -- Hong Kong beggars should use signs...and instead of begging for money using the shock factor, they should just write down what they want from us, like:

"1 Big Mac, Not for pimp"
"Need bowl of ramen, I am sorry"
"I want BBQ pork, Have a nice day"

With signs like these, how could anyone (with a heart) say no?

Meeting Donnie Yen

2011-08-09T00:26:00.000+08:00

It's been a while now, but when I heard that Donnie Yen was going to be making a special appearance at IFC for a fashion event, I couldn't help it -- I was excited.

There was no real reason to be, really. The guy is awesome no doubt, but was there any reason for me to have to see him in person? It's not like I wanted to challenge him to a fight, seduce him (yuck!) or even have a conversation with him. I just wanted to ... see him!

My fascination with ~~Donnie~~ Ip Man (like most people) started after seeing the movie (the first one, NOT the crappy sequel), and the funny thing is, we weren't even planning to see it at first. If I recall correctly, tickets to Jim Carrey's Yes Man were sold out, so we just figured it'd be the next best thing (Yes Man, Ip man, what's the diff?). So there we were, nearly three years ago, expecting nothing and getting a whole lot more than we had bargained for.

We emerged from the theatre pumped, excited and hating the Japanese, feeling victorious and Chinese even though we were hardly Chinese ourselves, rooting for Ip Man, Bruce Lee and all the martial artists to come out of China. We ran home to look up our new hero Ip Man in wikipedia, and were shocked to find out that most of the movie (besides the existence of Ip Man himself) was actually fiction...bummer.

In any case, you can't deny Donnie's got skills and I've been a fan ever since. So back to IFC... squishing in between all the socialites and important VIPs, there I was, dawdling around hoping to get a look at Mr. Yen himself, when suddenly, there he was shuffling towards me to get to his very tall wife of his (I say very tall because a) she was in heels, b) she is really tall and c) Donnie is no giant).

Of course, I grabbed my chance to snap a pic with Donnie and I'm not proud to say I was a bumbling starstruck fool while doing so. But whatevs, I got my pic! Teehee ... and yes he does look quite plastic-fantastic in person ;)