Nude King On The Blog

Slow Day

I wake up in the afternoon, look around, and decide to go back to sleep. That's all for today.

Ciao!

Wrong Timing!

"Did you hear His Holiness Dalai Lama is going on a world tour to discuss the Tibet situation?" Buddhist friend Wan Ker-sin asks as we sip coffee in a cha chan deng (a small roadside restaurant).

I nod.

"What would be the outcome?" Wanker asks.

As usual, I transform into my expert-about-everything personality and say, "Whoever discusses Tibet, or Free Tibet, or whatever crap during the ongoing tragedy of Sichuan earthquake in China, will end up looking like an idiot. Be it Bush, Brown, or any other diplomatic monkeys and the Free Tibet fanatics. The tour and such discussions will do more harm to Dali's own image. Wrong timing is all I can say."

Wanker nods and picks up yet another newspaper. I sip my coffee and think about Dali and the so-called world leaders' stupidity. For some odd reason, a strange music video starts playing in my mind:

I Wanna Be Like You... (The Jungle Book)

Ciao!

Video Credits: Uploaded by someone on the Internet. No, I don't know him or her.

The Great March To Nowhere!

The mood in Wonderland's conference room is sickening. Wonder Boy, Horse look-alike Henry, and Ambrose Lee are almost levitating in patriotic fervor.

"Two hours after the great earthquake, Wen Jiabao was already on his way to Sichuan." Wonder Boy says as he looks around proudly, "And Wen Jiabao has been there all this time, leading and organizing disaster relief committees. That's much better than what Dick or Bush did for your country during Katrina. Ha!" Wonder Boy snarls at me.

"And did you see those brave soldiers marching throughout the night to unreachable areas?" Horse Henry exclaims.

"Yes" Ambrose nods excitedly, "They have decided to carry the injured on their backs if the need be, before the roads are cleared of rock and debris."

"But alas," Wonder Boy sighs, "It's been 20 hours since the quake and our brave soldiers still don't have much information from badly hit remote areas."

Feeling sick of the fake let's-levitate side-show, I decide to step out for my afternoon beer. But before I leave the conference room, I turn around and shout, "Listen, you morons. Had I been you, I would have ordered ten or twenty military helicopters with soldiers and emergency supplies to fly to the difficult to reach counties.

I wouldn't be sitting here levitating my ass off. But perhaps, when one's head is full of pride with uncontrollable desires of mutual ass-licking, I suppose there is no room in there for common sense. Huh?"

I slam the door and leave. I can imagine their jaws hanging as they stare at each other. But who will be the first to pick up the phone and suggest to Wen Jiabao that what he needs is more experts and long range helicopters?

Ciao!

Update 1 (6:46pm): Today afternoon's news mentions that military helicopters sent to Sichuan could not land due to heavy rain and storm. Link here, but since the page keeps updating, I quote:

"And rain and thick clouds over a province famous for its giant panda reserves meant that military helicopters dispatched to the area could not yet land. Parachutists belonging to the People's Liberation Army canceled a rescue drop because of storms, Xinhua said."

Aha! So after I left the conference room (read above), someone did pick up the phone and pass on the suggestions.

But hey, military helicopters should have been sent yesterday afternoon. Not after 24 hours. Duh!

Update 2 (9:33pm): I have reedited and toned down this post. Apparently, Wen Jiabao has done a lot to help people affected by this tragedy. He deserves respect for forgetting his rank and just being there to help as a leader and a qualified geologist. Hats off to the man!

Sichuan Tragedy

I have been up all night and watching the Sichuan tragedy unfold (TV and Internet news). Until midnight, almost 9,000 people were feared dead and tens of thousands injured. And the relief crews believe it is only going to get worse.

I know I was bitching about Sichuan food, Sichuan pork, and Sichuan beer, but I do like Sichuan people. Basically, they are a kind lot and are very enthusiastic about entertaining their guests.

I just remembered that Xiao Hung and Xiao Wai  - two girls I had great fun with in Dongguan - were from Chengdu, Sichuan. Or at least, one of them was. As were some other people that worked for me in my factory (which, I have already sold since) in Dongguan.

I have not been able to contact any of them, and yes, I am a bit worried about them. And now, since Ah Chig has taken over the factory, those Sichuan people don't seem to work for him anymore.

Well, I hope that as rescue efforts recommence at first light, things wouldn't be as bad as feared in other counties (communications and roads are blocked, so no one knows).

Ciao!

I Repeat - Bin The Bad Luck Torch!

Early evening drinks with Buddhist friend Wan Ker-sin in a Lan Kwai Fong bar, the gray-robed monk and I watch news about the earthquake in Sichuan, China.

"You think it's because Buddha is pissed on China or something?" The superstitious monk asks me. I am about to say that I don't think so, but Wanker carries on, "You know, today's Buddha's birthday, and now this!"

Ignoring Wanker's remarks, I keep watching the news on TV, and am grateful to the bartender for not switching back to sports channels even though some sports fanatics look pissed.

What amazes me is the fact that the quake was felt by people in Beijing, Shanghai, Yuen Long (New Territories, Hong Kong), and as far as Bangkok, Thailand! All of them ran out of the buildings and waited on the roads for the buildings to crumble. That didn't happen though.

"The dress sense of Mainland Chinese women has improved a lot, no?" Wanker asks with voyeuristic expressions in his eyes, as we watch young women run down a flight of stairs somewhere in Shanghai.

Despite being a monk, Wanker can't change his one-track mind when observing the opposite sex. Even in times of disaster.

"You don't think it is related to the wrath of Buddha. You know, Tibet, Lammas, and all that stuff?" He repeats his query.

"No," I tell him, "But since  last two or three days, I have observed that many people are in a bad mood or simply bitching about trivial things. And if you sharpen your perception, this started after the Olympics torch returned to Shenzhen, China."

"Hmmm..." Wanker ponders as if I am providing Hitchcock-esque clues. "And that means?" he asks, as he looks totally lost.

"Simple," I tell him, "This particular Olympics torch has been eternally cursed and overloaded with bad luck. Troubles just seem to follow where ever it goes. And so, I repeat, we must toss the fucking torch in the South China Sea and do away with it, for good!"

"Yeah! Right on!" Wanker pats my back. "Hey, the girl in that black one-piece is damn sexy," he says as he points at the TV screen, but I am already busy firing up emails on my new-agey phone, and informing (and checking with) people I know who might have friends or family affected by this tragic earthquake.

Mother's Day, Buddha's Birthday, and Olympics Torch Relay don't even register on my superstition meter until I receive a message from 3 that says, "Server Down!"

Ciao!

PS: Written after a few drinks in a bar. Try not to be overly pedantic...

Flu Rules!

Have been unwell for two days and nothing much to say today.

Will stay home and avoid Wonder Boy, Horse Henry, and the gang, and watch my favorite TV channels - Weather and Traffic (on NOW TV).

Ciao!

Ronny Flyer

'Ronny Flyer' is a weird drink invented by a genius, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where the name comes from.

More and more people who have been introduced to this drink have started liking it, after initially complaining about the odd (and some say, disgusting) taste.

Some like it outright. For example, a friend and a fellow pilot enjoying drinks with me in Lan Kwai Fong tonight. The dude bragged that there's nothing in this world that can put him down, fast and cold.

I suggested Ronny Flyer. He said, "Bring it along." So I turned to the bartender and gave specific instructions:

• Double whiskey, as in double shots or pegs (whatever you prefer to call it) of preferably Black Label.
• Double gin, as in double shots or pegs of acceptable quality gin, such as London Gin.
• A splash or two of acceptable quality bitters, such as Campari.
• A dash or two of lime juice.
• And 4 or 6 regular ice cubes.

    (Yes, you are consuming a lot of alcohol in just one drink. Yeah!)

Said friend started drinking slowly. Half way through the drink, the pupils in his eyes started dancing while he tried to reach for the drink 6 inches from where it was placed on the table. A little bit of help from yours truly and he finished his drink.

Couple of minutes later, said friend slid from the barstool and lay spreadeagled on the floor. It took considerable effort by the bartender and yours truly to lift him and place him on a comfortable couch at the back of the bar.

Two hours later, he woke up and dismally said, "Damn! That really was good."

So there! If you are relaxed or extremely tired, cheerful or pissed with the world, think you are the best or think you have been treated unfair since you were born, on your first date or your divorce, celebrating promotion or when you are fired, in fact, for any situation, this drink is for you.

Warning: Try this drink at home first, until you get used to the idea of your senses leaving you for a couple of hours and surfing beyond the astral plane. Don't try this at a bar or with a hooker unless you have trusted friends around you.

Ciao!

PS:

1) Said friend isn't flying for two days. Hope he won't try Ronny Flyer before his next takeoff.

2) Don't confuse bitters with bitter (British ale).

Suspicious Visitors!

Close to 40,000 visitors were denied entry to Hong Kong last year, says Deputy Secretary for Security Grace Liu kit-yuk.

Awww c'mon Grace! Isn't that a disgrace to Hong Kong's self-proclaimed title of being Asia's World City?

The breakdown of 40,000 deportees is more interesting than meets the eye:

Nearly two-thirds of those turned away were deemed "suspicious" while 32 percent did not have proper documents. Two percent had tried to sneak in with false passports.

I will make a wild guess as to what the above could mean:

Nearly two-thirds of those turned away were dark-skinned and came from third-world countries in Africa, South Asia, and Southeast Asia, or were poor people from Mainland China. While 32 percent did not carry impressive credit cards or huge wads of cash required to stay for a couple of days in expensive Hong Kong. The remaining two percent were really really suspicious and possibly criminals as they carried fake passports, but what the hell? We grouped them with the aforementioned ninety eight percent that we don't like or want in Hong Kong.

But where does Jens Galschiot, the Danish sculptor, fit in the above crowd? He is white, has impressive credit cards, and holds European passport. No?

Yes, but he was probably wearing an orange track-suit while lining (queuing) up in front of the immigration counter. And he was excitedly telling everyone in the queue that he was in a hurry to repaint the Pillar of Shame in bright orange, which is a big no no color these days in China.

Galschiot and those inviting him, are like innocent children wailing and crying when the teacher punishes them for their pranks. Had Galschiot dressed in a red t-shirt with a 3D Chinese flag painted on the front and the back, he would have cleared immigrations. Perhaps, even without a passport.

So there, y'all, if you are dark-skinned, coming from third-world countries, don't have enough cash or credit cards, look like a bum from Mainland China, or even if you are white and a "Free Tibet" fanatic, all you gotta do is dress up in a red track-suit, preferably with Chinese flag and "Go China!" splashed all over your track-suit. And tell ya what? You will be let in and won't be deemed suspicious.

Get it?

Ciao!

Momma, I Want That Maid!

Early morning breakfast of boiled cabbage and oily noodles at Bo Kong Vegetarian Restaurant, Buddhist friend Wan Ker-sin shouts, "Holy Cow!" I look around to see if Asia's most revered animal that processes grass into milk has entered the holy restaurant.

Wanker snaps me back to common sense by pointing at a news article - 'Maid admits sex with boss' son'.

"Lucky bastard!" I smile.

"No, no," Wanker continues excitedly, "He was only 13 years old when that happened."

I get more intrigued, mentally cursing my parents for not hiring maids when I was young.

Wanker reads aloud, "The prosecution said the maid and the boy had their first experience after watching a video pornography website at their home in July last year."

"Thirteen? Thirteen?" Wanker keeps exclaiming. "Some of us haven't had sex at the age of 55!" He is referring to celibacy vows of monks.

I think back to when I was thirteen. If I couldn't grab a copy of Playboy, I would keep staring at photos of women advertising bras and wonder how it would feel to feel those cuties.

Almost telepathically, Wanker asks me, "How do you think he might have felt?"

I instantly wear my expert-about-everything expressions and begin, "Um, initially nervous? And then, a touch here, and a touch there, as the clothes gradually come off? And then, all the works?"

Wanker nods with voyeuristic expressions in his eyes. "So, why do you think he decided to end the relationship?" Wanker asks.

"Maybe, after a bit of experience, he wanted someone his own age?" I suggest.

"Sex with underage girls or boys is a serious offense in Hong Kong. Do you think the maid will be punished severely?" Wanker keeps dragging me deeper into the conversation.

"Look," I tell Wanker, "Coming from Indonesia, I doubt the maid was well educated to surf the Google highway and stop at places where they offer porn. So, technically, I would say that it is possible that the maid was seduced! Besides, the boy's parents also have responsibility to install Net Nanny or such software so that their beloved son doesn't end up on porn sites. That's all I can say."

"Aha!" Wanker says, "You should be a lawyer instead of political adviser."

"I have better things to do." I reply.

Right then, a teenage boy reading the same article in the next booth excitedly grabs his mother's hand and says, "Momma, I want that maid!"

Blame it on junk food, porn on TV and Internet, and early puberty, nowadays kids have more needs than society can provide them.

Ciao!

Bad Luck. It Just Doesn't Stop!

As I enter Wonderland's conference room, I see Wonder Boy kneeling in front of his voodoo altar in the corner. "O Lord," he prays aloud, "Kill them enterovirus 71 once and for all. What with 98 days to the glorious Olympics and final years of my reign in this city, we can't afford another SARS like scenario."

"What's bothering the jerk?" I ask horse look-alike Henry Tang, who is enjoying his routine early morning breakfast of tax-free red wine.

"He is worried that tourists and even athletes might think twice about going to the Beijing Olympics. What if EV71 becomes a full blown infection like SARS?"

I nod understandingly. If people don't go to the Beijing Olympics, they won't come here for Hong Kong Equestrian events either. And Wonder Boy's ego can't take that. It seems even Mother Nature is holding Wonder Boy and Beijing leaders by their balls.

But instead of feeling sad, I smile in the deep recesses of my mind. I see the entire Beijing Olympics Saga as something akin to that stupid Titanic movie. You know, where two assholes try their best to fight and survive against all odds.

Were I to equate the characters, Leonardo DiCaprio (Jack) would represent the collective Beijing Olympics gang. And Kate Winslet (Rose) would represent everyone against Beijing Olympics (Mother Nature included). And in a similar selfish way the bitch watches DiCaprio die in freezing waters while her ass is safe and secure on a floating wall paneling, the anti-Beijing Olympics gang watches disaster after disaster affecting the glorious Olympics games. Unspoken dialog comes to mind, "We pity you and your tragedies, pal, but we will remember you and our hearts will go on and on..."

Ciao!

PS: Written in a hurry. Try not to be pedantic about grammar, etc.