Gentlemen, start your cameras...

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.

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

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!

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Say NO to Butt Munching Pants

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) 

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Beggar on a buggy

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...

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No need for speed

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!

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Crankie cabbie

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!! 

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Things that make me cringe

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*!!

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Me 1 - Gnats 50

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).

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A crotch cabaret at BISOUS

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"!!

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Canadian vs. Hong Kong beggars

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?

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