Nip And Touch

TVB, when it is not continually wishing itself a happy birthday or presenting shows which involve girls in swimsuits, produces some very nicely done travel programmes, usually shown at 10.30 p.m. when people should, if not already in bed, go home. These usually involve one of the smarter members of their stable, actually doing and saying something interesting about somewhere not especially obvious.

At the moment, Jessica Hsuan, a graduate of Imperial College, and one of TVB’s top actresses, though no longer under permanent contract, is travelling around Africa in a quirky and sympathetic series about various tribes. Her impish smile and fetching outfits supplement her natural charm and clearly are winning over the tribal-type peeps with whom she is engaging.

One difference from the normal local programmes is that the African women are not covered up (perhaps they are not regarded by the Chinese as plausible sex objects) – they are standing around, just inches from Jessica, boobs fully exposed. At one such moment Jess asked a plate-lipped woman “Can I touch?”, and I wondered if there was going to be a bit of Sino-on-African tit squeezing, or perhaps we might even see Jessica chow down on a stubbly African nipple (that brings back memories!), but it was not to be - Jessie just wanted to touch the woman's lip. Still, it's a start.

Up In The Dumps

You wouldn't Adam and Eve it but dog shit seems to have a collective spirit which has decided to intrude into my life at every turn. Or could everyone else who lives in Midlevels or other gweilo-infested areas say this too?

I was walking with HH along Harlech Road on Sunday morning, after a bite of DS in one of the bijou restos there. I had my doubts, what with Harlech being a Welsh place name, and all, but there we were, and quite pleasant it was too. Not too many children, and those there were were either being carried or were well-behaved; likewise their close cousins, the dogs. Among the dozens of dogs was a poodle called Rocky (how we laughed), and another dog called Boris.

How do I know it was called Boris? Because, as it was exploring a flower bed, its owner, a gweipo, called it by name from 30 yards away and followed up with, aimed at anyone near Boris (presumably in the hope that they were Germans who might well have been observing Boris's rectum), "Is he pooping?"

Is it just me or is there something intrinsically wrong with asking strangers to check your dog's arse to see if shit is coming out of it?

Close Encounters Of The Turd Kind

My day has turned to shit. Literally. And I mean "literally" literally.

Just after getting into a taxi at the usual time, I realised I had left something behind, so I called our helper to ask her to bring it to the offo. Our helper, like all the helpers we have ever had, has a slight hearing problem so took a long time to answer. At the exact moment she finally did answer, the taxi driver decided to take a different - longer, naturally - route, veering off from the normal route just before the double white lines kicked in so that he could not get back into the correct lane. He did this, apparently, because there was traffic, something which is obviously unheard of in central Hong Kong at 8.30 on a weekday morning.

Words ensued, and I decided to walk to the office. At least, I thought, I will have a chance to enjoy some of that invigorating fresh air for which Hong Kong is justly famous. Imagine my surprise when, a couple of hundred yards along a main pedestrian thoroughfare, I saw a fellow with two dogs, one of which decided to defecate prodigiously as I approached. If I was German, I would doubtless have found this strangely titillating but for me it was merely an unwelcome example of chaos theory ruining my day.

Dogs crapping in a central pedestrian area! I thought that just happened in Mid Levels and Tai Tam.

A small oversight
Leads to diversion - in turn
To canine faeces.

The Price Is Wrong

Wasn't that post-Enron legislation, Sarbanes-Oxley, supposed to stop big accounting firms from having conflicts of interest between different types of client work.

Why then, is one of the Big 4 embroiled in a dispute in Hong Kong with one of its own audit clients (a client which provides similar services to the Big 4, but not audit) about that Big 4 firm having sent letters to that client's clients (are you with me so far?), which it could most easily have got from a client list in the audit working papers, though I am sure they didn't, in order to solicit business away from its own (the audit client) client? Allegedly.

Cold Front

It's too cold to blog today. Please chat amongst yourselves.

Mind Games

My mole inside the British Consulate tells me that bullying of local staff there has become such a serious problem that a "Bullying Committee" has been set up. Whilst staff are not (yet) subject to hooding, sexual humiliation or physical attacks - this is not Iraq, after all - mental bullying is apparently rife.

The committe is composed of middle-aged expat males which, by an astonishing coincidence, exactly fits the profile of those allegedly responsible for the alleged bullying.

Setting Wong To Rights

I saw that Lisa Wong, the well-known Beijing stooge, along with a lot of other TVB expired stock such as Dou Dou, on the telly last night, masquerading as people whose opinions we should give a ckuf about.

At least Lisa seems to have had her teeth done, though not before time, since she is even older than Tiny: the last time I posted about her, on this organ's previous incarnation, I was forced, reluctantly of course, to describe her as having a mouth full of broken biscuits. Now, some of the tumbled down gravestones seem to have been set upright again and given a bit of a polish.

You Say Andy, I Say Andre

First, perennial gallant British loser Andre Murray "refuses to condemn" his boyhood here, Andrew Agassi for his drug revelations. Next, Andy Agassay says Andray Murgassi "can make winning a habit".

What is going on here? Are these two dating? Or is it two just losers in a mutual support group?

Is winning better
Than losing if you were stoned
When you were playing?

Laughter Is The Best Medicine

HH and I were deeply amused last night.

In Fumie Mansions there is a respectable sprinkling, or perhaps more of an inundation, of Mercs and Beamers. The occasional Saab lowers the tone but the number of non-German cars, especially J-cars, is very low, in keeping with the area my reader would expect us to live in.

There has for a while been one of those grotesque vans, an Alphard, I think, in the car park, but there is a built-in discouragement to them in that the ramps to the car park and between levels is tight and windy, presenting a real challenge to a driver with normal, for Hong Kong, motor skills, even in an average-sized car. This Alphard owner gave up and had to beg the management to be allowed to pay a double fee for using the visitor's car park near the entrance. Ckufing pussy.

Anyway, some other twat decided that he had to have a big, fat cnut-mobile and his brand new piece of inadequacy, in shiny masculine black, with an "NV" licence plate, started showing up on one of the higher levels in the car park.

Last night, as we pulled in, I noticed a fine collection of deep scratches on the rear offside, uncannily similar to those which might have been made by a wally with a bonsai-sized dick trying to drive a car too big for him up a winding car park entrance.

Oh, how we laughed!

Off The Buses

How to reduce bus accidents on Hong Kong's roads. (Maybe.)


From: Freddie Fumier
Sent: Thursday, October 08, 2009 12:31 PM
To:
Subject: Nuisance Caused By Your Buses


Dear Sir / Madam,

Your drivers are doing it again - using parked cars as an excuse to block XXXX Road right in front of XXXX Building when there is still plenty of room for them to get past. I reported this last year and can see clearly from my apartment, which overlooks the spot, that they can get through quite easily.

Even if the driver of a parked vehicle moves it to create even more room, and even though the vehicle is not parked on a yellow line or in a "Keep Clear" section to start with, your bus drivers are refusing to go through until they have won some sort of mental battle with the other driver.

They are causing an obstruction and traffic jams out of sheer awkwardness, as well as noise pollution by sounding their horns for long periods at a time.

I will report each instance of this to you by e-mail, starting with the latest:

Single-decker bus licence number XX XXXX at xx.xx today, and will summarise the occurrences for the police if this nuisance does not stop.

Yours Faithfully,
Freddie Fumier



-----Original Message-----
From: Webmaster
Sent: Friday, October 09, 2009 1:42 PM
To: Freddie Fumier
Subject: RE: Nuisance Caused By Your Buses

Dear Mr./ Ms Fumier,

Thank you again for your email bringing our attention to the bus captain's performance.

The case has been forwarded to relevant department for investigation, and we will relay the result to you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, if you have any enquiries, please feel free to email us again or contact us at Customer Service Hotline.

Thank you for your attention.

Regards,

Customer Service Department



-----Original Message-----

Dear Mr. / Ms Fumier,

Thank you for your email on 8th October regarding your complaint against one of our bus captains.

Upon receiving your complaint, internal investigation had been conducted and the case had been dealt with properly. In addition, the concerned bus captain was instructed to improve his driving attitude and should not block the way to affect the traffic movement. We are fully aware of your concern so please be assured that we will continue to closely monitor the performance of bus captain to ensure that his driving performance is up to standard.

Again, we are sorry for the unpleasant experiences you encountered. Should you have further comment on our service, please feel free to contact us again.

Thank you for your attention.

Yours sincerely,

Customer Service Manager

Tipping Point

"Why Did She Die?" is the SubStandard's disingenuous headline regarding the bus that tipped over early yesterday morning.

Everyone is standing around with their heads up their bums, ignoring the elephant in the room.

Secretary for Transport and Housing Eva Cheng Yu-wah said there was nothing wrong with the design of the roundabout. "We can introduce additional safety measures, but this will depend on the investigation report."

On that, Transport Department traffic engineer Ambrose Cheong Siu- yau said there were sufficient road signs approaching the roundabout. "These usually ask drivers to slow down," he said, "and there is also a clear sign of 50 kilometers per hour."

Still, experts from his department were meeting police and district councillors today to discuss how road signage might be improved.

As for claims about the bus going fast, Polytechnic University mechanical engineer Lo Kok-keung said a bus could flip over at around 40 kilometers per hour.

So, here is the elephant, and the reason for the accident yesterday, for these several experts who can't see it yet. Bus drivers in Hong Kong are reckless, ignore signs and rules, and use their buses as weapons to terrorise drivers of smaller vehicles, i.e. virtually everyone. They are encouraged in this by government advertisements which state that if another driver does not give way to buses, there may be an accident because this will force the bus driver to slow down. In other words, he is going to fast already to avoid an accident without other drivers taling steps to avoid one.

Watch this space to see the govermnet do ckuf-all about it.

And, by the way, the TV reconstruction of the accident showed the bus approaching the roundabout in the right-hand lane, in order to turn left. The government probably thinks that's OK too.

God Swill

With no apparent pun intended, the SubStandard reports that a probe has been "launched" following a paraglider crash.

A German glider pilot, apparently mistaking Stanley Main Beach for Poland, "plowed into a popular barbeque site", slightly injuring 3 bible-bashing Philippinos (or Filipinas, as the SubStandard refers to them) who were attending a church function which involved roasting and eating fellow creations of their invisible friend. This will doubtless be taken either as a sign from the sky that they are somehow "chosen" or that it was Dog's will that they be spared serious injury. If they were really lucky, they will have acquired some nice stigmata with which to impress their friends over a delicious dish of deep-fried pork fat.

It's an ill wind. (Geddit?)

The Low Levels

Inhale the urine,
Step in the shit, and thank your
Midlevel neighbours.

I Shit You Not

Not everyone realises this but smells are particulate-borne. In other words, when you smell something, the substance you are smelling is physically entering your nose, and probably your mouth too.

So, if you are walking along Old Pee Road or Poowen Road and smell, as you will, unless you have a heavy cold or a medical condition, or are not breathing, the concentrated stench of dog urine and faeces, this means that some dog-owner's rabid canine's excreta are physically entering your body. Yes, their lifestyle choice is forcing you to eat shit.

Urine The Way

I touched on this during the previous post, and I once had a letter published in the SCuMPost on this very subject - dog pee.

Why is it that so many residential areas, especially those with a highish proportion of those from other parts - OK, gweilos, there, I've said it - smell, nay, stink, veritably reek of dog urine. And these areas put the "feast" into "faeces" too, with lumps and smears galore for the unwary or anyone who has never visited Amsterdam and learned to avoid those darker-hued patches of pavement.

These are the very same areas where maids walk the dogs, affection being delegated - or, like in a Chinese family, relegated or perhaps elevated to a duty, where offspring are akin to debtors or bearers of annuities, and the perpetual refrain is "you owe me, you owe me". Altogether now ...

In other words, expensive, gweilo-infested areas are the least habitable, at least for anyone who walks anywhere, and have been made so by their own residents. Talk a walk along Old Peak Road, or May Road, or Bowen Road, or MacDonnell or Kennedy Roads, and breathe deeply. At your peril.