“Madness is confusion of levels of fact. . . . Madness is not seeing visions but confusing levels.”
I walked by this billboard for 6 weeks and I still have no idea what it’s an ad for. The suit’s xelophone bomb detector says ,”CLEAR,” even though the vest bomb has an actve count down.
“You sir, look like an idiot.”
This is a tale of forged wills, kidnappings, murder, secret love affairs, feng shui, $14 billion up for grabs, my uncle’s boss and fried chicken.
I’m not one to critically comment on fashion because I always dress like I’m about to paint a house, so I’ll just say that the HK fashion sense is curious. There is the niche couture for the chicks who hyper-accessorize that screams, “I’m disaffected and ironic!” (translation: Chinese girls have daddy issues too.) But for the most part I’ve noticed that people here like wearing stuff that has English words but have no idea what they mean or imply (think of the knuckleheads in America who get don’t realize their chinese character tatoos actually say, “I’m the biggest kind of d-bag”).
I haven’t been able to photo-document what I’ve seen, but I’ve passed a slew of moms in their mid-fourties walking with their kids dressed in shirts that say: BIG AIR, MINI SKIRT, SPORTS, NEVER TELL THE TRUTH, IM A TEASE.
Then there is my own mom who has been wearing the same t-shirt everyday for 2 weeks. At first I thought this was weird, but all we do is see my grandparents who do the same. My grandfather has worn the same pair of pants and shirt for 6 months in a row (regardless of the weather- I wish I was exaggerating). I think what it comes down to is that most people just don’t give a crap. I started doing the same and it’s been nice. I dress like I’m at home. If I come back when to HK when it’s cold I plan to go out in public in pajama pants.
I’ve noticed that the mother-in-law (MIL) and daughter-in-law (DIL) are natural enemies much like the mongoose and the snake or the Korean convenience store clerk and the black man. If the MIL is Asian and the DIL is White, then the problem is that she isn’t Asian. But if she is in fact Asian, then the problems becomes she’s not Asian enough (yes that’s a real thing and is an issue more often than you think). The MIL will go on despising her if there are no grandchildren, and if there are it’s a problem if the baby isn’t a boy and vice versa. And then there is the whole ‘You aren’t raising the child correctly, and even if you followed all of my steps, you are still f*cking it up.’
It’s similar to when cops decide to stop a car that is seemingly above reproach, “If we want to pull a car over, we’ll find a reason.” MILs can hunt for flaws like a crack CSI unit. Daughter-in-laws, you will always lose because of the very nature of who you are and what you represent. Men by nature, whether they are the hunters or the momma’s-boy hunted are attracted to women like their mothers, because to them they are the ideal- the paragon of what their dream girl should be. It’s an Oedipal hangover. So for the mother-in-law, the DIL represents a threat because not only is she being replaced, but replaced by a younger perkier version of herself. This is why they will always be adversaries. They are fighting over the same man. That’s a sandwich I want no part of.
You know in those movies that take place in prisons; if the main character doesn’t play nice with the corrupt warden he gets tossed in solitary. As he is sensory deprived for weeks, time loses perspective and slowly sanity erodes. That’s what my vacation in HK has become. It doesn’t help that I can communicate more effectively with my birds than my grandparents, but the main issue is that I have scant internet access. I basically have to wander around aimlessly holding my laptop like a Geiger counter searching for faint traces of a connection to leech.
The lack of media and information has me devolving into a piece of mushy fruit. I’m surrounded by 7 million people but I feel completely cut off from the world. In America since I was a shut-in that worked from home I had at least a vague idea of what day it was. But here you could tell me it’s June…2003 with all of the SARS masks and I wouldn’t even do a double or half take.
As much as I complain how 24 has been unravelling faster than my underwear after 800 trips through the washer, I miss it. I miss tv. I hate how yesterday’s Rockets game was over before I even took my morning squat.
The speed and culture of Hong Kong is much like NYC, except that instead of people telling you to go screw yourself to your face, they just imply it with passive aggressive comments to their friends you are meant to overhear. I’m not quite sure what everyone’s rush is; especially with the elevators. I’ve timed it. After about 3 seconds the doors shut automatically, but people will pound on the close door button like they are trying to break the high score in a game of Space Invaders or Centipede and maybe shave off an entire second. If you are the person who is standing next the to the panel of buttons, it’s somehow understood that’s it’s your responsibility to immediately jam on it. I choose not to and I always get this withering look from everyone that says either I’m a retard or have no conscious in regards to social etiquette.
Two scenarios that drive me insane is that in a packed elevator heading to the ground floor, people from the back will start shoving their way forward around the 5th floor. We are all heading to the same place. These people act as if their water just broke. The other is that as the doors are opening people outside will force their way in before I can get out. It boggles my mind that 90 year old shuffling mummies are the exact same way. They walk slower than moving airport walk ways and they are just heading downstairs to sit on a bench for hours waiting for their lives to end.
I only have one question: What the f*ck Hong Kong?
Introducing the red neck tank top. God help us all.
Queue the clown car music.
The kangaroo uprising has begun.
Me thinks this guy doesn’t get how our judicial system works. I’d like to see how he responds when a cop pulls him over.
Lesson #2 in silencing internet scammers.
The other day I posted how the cab driver of Swine Flu Patient X was still roaming the streets of Hong Kong. I joked that he probably didn’t notify the authorities because he was afraid that he would get mobbed by a cadre of men in biohazard suits just like at the end of E.T. Well apparently that’s exactly what happened. Somehow they tracked him down to an outdoor cafe where a swat team of hazmat shock troops surrounded the place, immediately created a 30 foot perimeter around him, threw a gas mask at his face with a note in Chinese that probably said something to the effect of, “You are being quarantined, and by quaratined we mean a less comfortable version of Gitmo.”
Wagyu steak- $100 for an 8 oz steak is always ridiculous even if I’m not paying. It’s no coincidence that ‘wagyu’ is Japanese for mouth orgasm.
Adam Carolla- When I first saw him on Love Line back in college I found him annoying. Now I love him on his podcast where he rants and shares his theories on the loss of service in airplanes, lack of hot nurses, attack crows, when old people should die, spank shui, and especially his fake movie pitches like Pediph Isle.
My aunt’s professional ping pong coach- The closest I’ve ever come to a coach was Pee Wee soccer when someone’s dad would put me in for 10 minutes and say, “kick the ball as hard as you can if it comes near you, and for God’s sake try not to take one off your face.”
