Would you respect my impatience?

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

Ever wonder why Hongkies are always in such a hurry? One of the reasons I discovered is that we have to queue for everything in our lives, e.g. food, buses, school places and even my H&M headpiece. So many people are competing for so few resources. So much time is spent on waiting. We can’t help rushing to compensate for the time lost.

As a typical impatient Hongkie, my life is filled with irritating moments every day. For example, when I finally get to the cashier after waiting for ages, the shop attendants always find ways to push me to the edge.

“Do you have a Buy-our-overpriced-items-then-get-one-cent-refund Card?”

“Do you want to redeem your Octopus Reward$ because we feel bad about selling your data?”

“Would you like a bar of this tasteless chocolate? It contains 1200g of sugar but only costs $12!”

“Why don’t you buy this mango shampoo too? It goes well with vanilla foot cream.”


When I keep rolling my eyes and uttering ‘no’, ‘nope’ and ‘no ah’, they show no signs of disappointment or any awareness of my grumpiness. It’s all programmed in their body. By the time they release the garlic bulb I’m buying, my pasta is already overcooked and I no longer want to eat. Just wonder if they are this fluent and persistent with expats.

Do skinny Hongkies need nutrition labels?

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

Recently, there’s one retarded government ad that amuses me a lot. It’s about the introduction of nutrition information labels on pre-packaged foods on 1 July 2010.

In this television ad, seven children and a young girl are dressed in white tight polyester jumpsuits. Each child represents a type of nutrients to be included in food labels and the young lady represents “energy”. The lot keeps jumping and cheering around the corners of a supermarket and triggers my body’s defensive mechanism as they resemble sperm cells.

According to the advertisement, the introduction of nutrition labels is to enable us to compare nutrient contents in food and make healthier food choices, so that we won’t get obese, heart attacks and cancer.

Yes, I’m a whore. So…?

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

Last week a famous Hong Kong actor openly criticised those hot teen models as disgusting. He even went this far to call them whores.

Judging from the actor’s bad-boy image and his history of being outspoken, I don’t find this news particularly surprising. What actually amused me was the models’ feedback. They were upset and denied that they were whores. They claimed what they were doing were just photographs and not immoral at all.

Thing is, what’s the big deal about being called a whore? If I were them, I would take it with self-respect because:

1. Being called a whore means I got paid for hard skilled work.

2. It means I’m pleasing people and people find me pleasing.

3. It means I’m someone who actually lives in the real world, not like those basement dwellers who keep whining about how unfair the world is and how universal suffrage can solve their problems, from housing to finding someone to date.

At least for me, being a whore is more respectable than those “empowered” chicks who hang around in some “trendy” membership clubs, thinking they worth a billion dollars from bankers, but end up giving them sex for free. Whores are at least more realistic than those wannabes, who invest for the future by sleeping with a random guy who claim himself to be a photographer/director/Feng Shui master. Whores make business travellers’ lives eaiser. Authentic Kong-gals simply can’t pick up the hints when these lonely roamers mention the time of their flight and the hotel they are staying.

Pseudo-models for Pseudo-book fair

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

Last week the Trade Development Council lifted the ban of teen models, which was proposed earlier, from its book fair in July under the pressure of the models’ publishers. However, book-signing sessions are still not allowed because the council argued that the models’ risque photo books are of bad taste and too vulgar, which contradicts the fair’s image as being family oriented. They don’t want the chicks to hijack such significant cultural event as they did last year.

I can’t help worrying about the fair if it no longer allows some boob-flashing and legs-flaunting from the bikini-clad models. Who would then pay to see the show? Booklovers? Well, as an old-fashioned booklover who insists on 15-minute bedtime reading every night, I don’t feel the urge to cram myself into the venue to see Haruki Murakami or Stephen Fry for real. I am drawn to their writing talents, not their physical looks and autographs. Besides, most people nowadays just read everything from the Internet and their iPhones. Or worse, they don’t read, they watch videos. Taking a long way to Wan Chai and paying a fee to read something new is so 1990s. Only some jaw-dropping cleavages would provide enough incentives for lads to bother.

Watching My Footprint

Published at the Libertine's Pub, Hong Kong

Last week we were so obsessed with mourning, fighting and cheering for our Goddess of Democracy that we forgot there was another big event happening, which is much more central to our survival – The Air-Conditioning Free Day on June 1.

According to the website of the environmental organization Footprint, 234 schools and a number of unnamed environmentalists had participated in the event with the hope of raising the awareness of reducing carbon footprint. You may wonder why such a meaningful and non-controversial event got such low exposure comparing to the Earth Hour or the Car Free Day. One reason is that our Secretary for the Environment might be too busy doing the laundry for another weekend out in his reusable Act Now t-shirt. Another possible reason is that the act of turning off the air conditioner is not as visual as turning off the lights or making an appearance on the MTR to declare oneself car-free, which provides little incentives for large corporations and government officials to act on, as they could no longer show to the press how environmental-friendly and socially responsible they are, even for just one day.

Cultural shock at my hometown

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

Frankly, I really enjoy reading our gweilo libertine Wes’ posts on his expat rage in the Hi-Tech Village. Maybe it’s nothing new to our expat readers, but it’s always amusing to see how things I take for granted can cause so much shock and confusion to our beloved expats.

At the same time, I keep being shocked by the non-Hongkie culture at where I work, our CBD Central. I used to feel comfortable to live and work in the New Territories and Kowloon. However, in Central, every day lies a new adventure. First, I have to overcome the language barrier. Whenever I walk in the streets of Central, the only language I hear is either English or Putonghua, or worse, the expats speak better Putonghua and the Mainlanders speak better English than me. Perhaps Na’vi is more frequently spoken than my mother tongue Cantonese here.

Second, not only we locals are expected to make eye contact with strangers, as Wes suggested, we also have to prepare ourselves to talk to them, which is contrary to my mum’s teachings since I was a baby girl. No matter you’re rushing to your office, drowsily waiting for the pick-you-up cappuccino, or simply checking out the gossip magazines at the newsstand, some English-speaking strangers would come over and say hello as if they were your old friend. To look more “Western” and less like a Villager, I’m always up for the small talk until it’s close to 2pm and I got to go.

Our Double Standard of Morality

Published at the Libertines Pub, Hong Kong

As probably the most “right” member in a suspected Commie group, I can understand why decriminalization of drugs sounds an attractive idea. As you know, some of my mates claim themselves to be musicians. Music without drugs is like French films without sex scenes and the banking industry without overpriced chain store coffee. Ray Charles, Rolling Stones and Amy Winehouse may not have produced such genius music with substance had they not relied on some substance in some way. In fact, thanks to cocaine, an ex-fiancee of a rock star, Kate Moss, remains as a fashion icon for decades with her never fully conscious and skinny look.

However, as appealing as the idea can be, the chance of success is destined to be doomed. It may work in Europe, but never in my hometown the High-Tech Village.

Why? Because we Villagers have no problems in showing our double standard of morality, as soon as it involves a member of our family.

We don’t mind Tiger Woods cheating because he’s just being human. But if our husbands and boyfriends cheat? We want to give death penalty.

We fancy chasing jail baits because what they are hinting is just consensual sex. But if they are our daughters? We want to lock either them or the boys up.