Nude King On The Blog

Welfare Handouts!

The mood in the conference room of Wonderland (Government House - Hong Kong), is one of despair. Sir (and did you forget that?) Donald Tsang Yam-kuen and horse lookalike Henry Tang are sitting with their hands placed against their foreheads.

I enter and whistle. Everything is dandy and great for me. But seems it is not so for the remaining six million nine hundred thousand and eighty people in this town. Do the math. The remaining are either tycoons, civil servants, or tourists in town!

"Should we, like Taiwan, give 5,000 bucks to each and every individual in town to boost and jump-start our flailing economy?" Wonder Boy (Donald Tsang) asks Henry.

"I think we should give them a couple of bottles of tax-free red wine!" says Henry. "After all, and after drinking those, they will be peaceful, docile, and happy. They won't even care about the economy!"

One-track mind! I observe Henry. Call it an obsession, but the man has it.

I chirp in, "How about we imprison all the landlords that charge exorbitant rates for shops and commercial properties and thereby give a chance to Hong Kong residents to do normal business and prosper?"

"Fuck off!" Wonder Boy barks at me. "If after all these years, you have not understood that we are here only to serve the cartels and tycoons in Hong Kong, then you are an idiot and we don't need you as a special advisor on our board."

I jump down on my knees, bow down and apologize to Wonder Boy and thereafter, sit in a corner of the conference room. I permit myself to the free flowing tax-free red wine that is part of the usual morning breakfast in Wonderland's conference room and listen to the two imbeciles discuss the probable solutions to Hong Kong's economic problems.

The phone rings. It is tycoon Li, the superman of Hong Kong. Wonder Boy listens with an eager ear. The superman complains that he has lost a lot of wealth due to the economic-tsunami. Upon hearing that, I smirk and walk out of the conference room.

Knowing that superman Li lost money, somehow makes me happy. Superman Li has milked Hong Kong residents for decades. Perhaps, this is the beginning of the end of his greedy empire. And his retard sons aren't doing well either.

Calls for a celebration or what? Behind every cloud, there is a silver lining. Goes the same for this current economic-tsunami. No?

Ciao!

Same Old Shit!

I enter Wonderland's conference room after almost two months. Wonder Boy Donald Tsang and horse lookalike Henry are sitting as usual, discussing the Article 23 implementation in Macau.

"So you are back, you bloody dog!" Wonder Boy barks.

I ignore his insulting remark and throw a couple of unused US dollar notes on his desk.

"De-peg HK dollars from US dollars, you idiot!" I shout. "The shit ain't worth nothing where ever I go."

"And you!" I point at Henry, "Will be poorer if HK dollars are pegged to US dollars. You too are an idiot of the first order!"

Both of them looked stunned as I announce that I have acquired a new job title worth filling in my resume - ATI. And no, it has nothing to do with airlines, but it means - Advisor To Idiots!

Ciao!

Glitter, Glitter, Gutter!

I enter Wonderland's conference room hymning a tune:

Glitter, Glitter, gutter,
In Thailand you did stutter.

Glitter, Glitter, gutter,
To Hong Kong you did flutter.

Glitter, Glitter, gutter,
"Why me?" you must mutter.

Glitter, Glitter, gutter,
No country wants such clutter...

"Stop that Glitter business!" Wonder Boy roars. I am surprised. Why should he be so pissed upon the mention of Glitter? Hong Kong immigration officials already threw him out. Didn't they? So Glitter shouldn't be Wonder Boy's concern.

The answer, however, comes from horse lookalike Henry. "You see," Henry says, "we already have our own problems with underage girls allegedly competing in 2008 Olympics. We don't want anyone else associated with underage girls coming to Hong Kong or China."

"So desu nee..." I answer in Japanese, which means, "Is that so?" (Rough translation.)

I can understand the logic behind Wonder Boy's irritation. Glitter and underage girls. Olympics and underage girls. Anyone can make that connection. Yeah!

So, was Glitter stupid to have selected Hong Kong / China as his proposed destination? I will have to ponder on that for a while.

Ciao!

Beijing Boring Olympics!

As is often the case when Wonder Boy is traveling up north, horse lookalike Henry and I end up sitting in the conference room, overnight, drinking tax-free red wine. Where else, but in Government House, can we find unlimited supply of free wine, a chef that cooks anything we desire at midnight and a couple of young and beautiful female press attaches monitoring news while they pluck their eyebrows by looking in mirrors placed on top of their monitors?

After finishing the third bottle, Henry eases his guard and starts speaking from his heart. "Man!" he says, "I can't wait for these boring Olympics games to be over."

He has my immediate attention. This is the first time the man has said something, which I totally agree with.

"Why," he says, "in the name of fuck, does China need to host the Olympics? China's coming out party? Ha ha. Ha ha ha. He he he..." he bends over laughing while spurting out some red wine out of his mouth. "With all the restrictions and security around, it's more like China's closing up party!"

"And hey," he looks at me with drunken eyes, "Let's rename these as China's National Games."

As a person who can consume unbelievable amount (or rather volume) of alcohol without getting drunk, I nod sanely.

"But you are a horse owner yourself." I remark. "Therefore, you must be excited by the equestrian events being hosted right here in Hong Kong, our own city."

Henry stares at me for a while and frowns. "Equestrian, eh?" he says. "What's so great about some naughty horses jumping up and down the fences? Huh? They don't make you any money, like horses that run in gainful races."

Hmmm... I think to myself, it takes three bottles of wine to open up Henry's heart and the deeply guarded opinions in his mind.

"You know what?" Henry interrupts my thoughts, "Perhaps, they should forget about the opening ceremony and the games and simply stage a closing ceremony on August 8, 2008. Then, all of us could get back to our normal lives and really have fun."

I look at Henry and think; truer words were never spoken by anyone. Gotta give it to him. The man is practical, reasonable, and a genius.

Ciao!

Sensible Government, Olympic Harmony, And Miscellaneous

"What does he actually mean?" Wonder Boy bangs his fist repeatedly on the conference table.

This is the third time Wonder Boy has raised the question this morning in the conference room at Wonderland. But until horse lookalike Henry offers his brilliant suggestions, I am keeping my trap shut.

Obviously, Wonder Boy is pissed that Vice President Xi Jinping, during his tour of Hong Kong, has reprimanded Wonder Boy (and top officials) about everything - including lack of sensible governance, lack of Hong Kong residents' enthusiasm for the glorious upcoming Olympics, lack of initiatives to tackle runaway inflation and the plight of the poor, unnecessary appointments of undersecretaries messenger boys and girls earning extraordinarily high salaries, lack of Hong Kong tycoons' and cartels' conscience, and lack of aftershave lotion and deodorant on the cheeks and under the armpits of Wonder Boy.

"Why don't you answer me?" Wonder Boy barks. "What in the name of Lord does he really want me to do?"

"Um," Henry finally takes the initiative, "perhaps, he wants you to give HK$10 billion to help Sichuan earthquake victims without any further thought or consultation. And until you do that, I think he is going to be pissed on you."

Wonder Boy thinks for a while, not exactly buying Henry's angle. "You! Gwailo!" he snarls at me in the usual derogatory tone.

I take a sip of the free-flowing tax-free red wine and clear my throat...

"You are not quite the diplomat," I begin. Wonder Boy frowns. I continue, "If I were you, the moment he landed in Hong Kong, I would have dragged him to a presentation of things we propose to do:

I would have told him that as a sensible government, we are planning to throw all foreigners out of Hong Kong by July 20. And we won't give a damn if they have half-Chinese families, kids, businesses, investments, or have contributed to the success of Hong Kong.

I would also emphasize that starting around July 20, all foreigners arriving at the airport will be deported on the next available flight. Immaterial of whether they need or don't need a visa or carry valid resident visas.

I would tell him that the entire population of Tin Shui Wai will volunteer to clean the algae from the Beas River in Sheung Shui - the venue for equestrian events.

I would point out that to tackle air pollution in Hong Kong, starting July 20; electricity will be disconnected to all houses and businesses in Hong Kong. Limited electricity will only be supplied to MTR trains and the main venue. And only public buses and LPG fueled taxis will be allowed on roads from July 20 to September 20.

And as a final point emphasizing Olympic harmony and the joy of it all, I would inform him that we plan to install surface-to-air, surface-to-surface, and air-to-air missiles at various locations in all the 18 districts of Hong Kong. And to hell with anyone scared enough to step out of their hotels or houses.

'Well...' I pause for breath, 'had you given such a presentation; immediately upon his arrival, he would not have reprimanded you'."

As I sip red wine, I look at Wonder Boy and Henry. They are awestruck. I feel satisfied.

"Hey!" Wonder Boy shrills excitedly, "Those are some brilliant ideas! Do we still have time to implement all that?"

I smile. Forget one country-two systems. What did I tell you? We are transforming into a one country-one system as each day goes by. Or rather, as each minute ticks by.

Ciao!

Asia's World Brothel

Upon my insistence, Wonder Boy and Horse Henry disguise themselves as drag queens and accompany me to Lan Kwai Fong and Wan Chai. After the makeover, Wonder Boy looks like a petite beau and Horse Henry looks like a hooker from Thailand on steroids. The disguise is necessary lest anyone recognizes the ruling lords.

The grand night out is my idea to show Wonder Boy and Horse Henry that laws of the glorious Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of China are being broken day in day out, or rather, night in night out.

As we cross the traffic junction between Theater Lane and Lan Kwai Fong, we see a drunken gwailo cursing everyone on the street. He is shouting about his missing wallet as he keeps waving his middle finger at everyone and at the skies.

"That," I tell Wonder Boy and Horse Henry, "is normal. And he is not breaking any laws stipulated in our ordinances." They nod.

Further down the road, or rather uphill, as Lan Kwai Fong is a bit steep, another gwailo looks at Wonder Boy and shouts, "Hi honey, I love ya!" Wonder Boy cringes, but I immediately point out to the duo that even such remarks are normal - Hong Kong being a free and open society. They reluctantly nod.

Once inside a prominent bar on the left side at the top of D'Aguilar Street (Lan Kwai Fong), we order drinks and are soon surrounded by scantily dressed girls from Southeast Asia.

"Gee!" Wonder Boy remarks, "people here are really friendly!"

Upon hearing his voice, one of the girls realizes that Wonder Boy is in fact a man dressed like a drag queen. Soon she puts her hand inside Wonder Boy's mini-skirt. "Two thousand dollars honey, for a night out with me!" she says.

Startled and shocked, Wonder Boy runs out of the bar. Horse (look-alike) Henry follows him. I pay for the drinks and run after them. Outside, on the street crowded with gwailos, Southeast Asians and a few Chinese, Wonder Boy goes berserk. "I have never, I repeat, never, been molested like that in my life!" he jabs a finger in my chest.

I point out that even that is normal as far as gwailos are concerned. And I point out to him that Allan Zeman, a person Wonder Boy knows very well, is supposed to be the father of Lan Kwai Fong.

Firm and resolute, Wonder Boy declines my suggestion of going back inside the bar. Three chilled drinks stand lonely on a table in the bar as Wonder Boy fishes out his mobile phone and summons the Royal limousine. We stretch inside as we head to Wan Chai.

If Lan Kwai Fong was a torture for Wonder Boy, I can only imagine his mental state in Wan Chai. Standing outside the 7-Eleven near Amazonia, we are approached by none other than Wan Ker-sin. "Howdy buddy?" Wanker pats me and winks at both Wonder Boy and Horse Henry. Wonder Boy is again startled at the sight of a gray-robed monk holding a bottle of Heineken. I shoo him away and he retreats in yet another night club to pursue his research for his book.

A Russian lady approaches us and after running her index finger across Horse Henry's hair, she slaps my butt. "Sugar," she almost sighs, "I will give you a discount just because I love your eyes, baby." Wonder Boy and Horse Henry look at her in horror.

I squeeze Natalia's boobs and tell her that I will meet her later as I am busy with friends. She fondles my dick and balls, kisses my lips and vanishes in the crowd.

"Am I really in Hong Kong?" Wonder Boy shouts after Natalia is gone. "I can't believe this!" he froths at his mouth. Once again, he pulls out his mobile phone and minutes later, the Royal limousine arrives outside 7-Eleven in Asia's World Brothel area - Wan Chai (second only to areas in Thailand).

Once again we settle inside and head for the Government House.

Once inside, I switch off my charm and confront Wonder Boy (and Horse Henry). "Satisfied?" I ask them both. "According to Hong Kong laws and notices issued by Hong Kong Immigration Department, no person without a valid Hong Kong Identity card can engage in any gainful employment. And that includes prostitution as well. The prostitutes you just saw in both places are visiting Hong Kong on tourist visas!" I snarl.

"And tell ya what?" I bark at the stupefied faces of Wonder Boy and Horse Henry, "Prostitution in Lan Kwai Fong and Wan Chai started after 1995. Almost before the handover. Prior to that, lonely Chinese girls and abandoned gwaipos (Caucasian female) went to such places for one night stand. There were no Russians or Southeast Asian hookers back then."

Wonder Boy and Horse Henry don't know what to say.

I bark again, "Clear these areas of hookers, and ensure that Hong Kong Police and those in the Immigration Department are doing their job properly."

Wonder Boy again fishes out his mobile phone and calls someone who is in-charge of Wan Chai area. I close my eyes and dream of the times (pretty soon) when I can have a one night stand with a sexy and lonely decent Chinese girl or an abandoned gwaipo instead of paying HK$2,000 to a Russian or a Southeast Asian hooker. Mission accomplished. Yeah!

Ciao!

Fuel Subsidies? What Fuel Subsidies?

After parking my 3,500 c.c. German manufactured car in Wonderland's car park, I walk towards Wonderland's conference room. Suddenly a Nepalese security guard comes running after me. "Sir," he says, "you forgot to switch off the engines."

I look at my car and then at him. Of lately, my visits to Wonderland have become so infrequent that he seems to have forgotten my habits. Placing my arm around his shoulders, I point at the sky. "Look at the sun," I tell him, "it's shining bright and you must agree it's very hot today." The security guard nods as he wipes sweat off his forehead. "So do you expect me to enter a hot stuffy car after I have finished my meeting?" The security guard shakes his head. I pat his back and off he runs back to his post.

Wonder Boy and Horse look-alike Henry hardly notice me as I enter the conference room. Their attention is focused at the far end of the conference table. I dart a quick glance and see a face that resembles a live chicken in a wet market. The only difference being that there is a heap of untidy black hair on top of the head. A quick scan of my mental archives provides me the name associated with that face - Eva Cheng Yu-wah, Secretary for Housing and Transport.

"So, as I was saying," the chicken woman continues as everyone ignores me, "if we don't subsidize cheap diesel and unleaded petrol, trucks and private cars will demonstrate and block the roads in Hong Kong with yet another protest against high fuel prices. And that will look bad for Hong Kong tourism."

Wonder Boy and Horse Henry nod as they scratch their heads. Wonder Boy thinks for a while and complains, "But how can we slash fuel prices and fuel taxes when our masters in Beijing have just hiked the prices of diesel, petrol and electricity in China?"

"He's got a point!" Henry says.

I relax on my chair until my opinion is asked for. And the moment comes soon. "Hey gwailo!" Wonder Boy addresses me in what sounds like a derogatory tone, "what do you think?"

I clear my throat and begin, "Approximately, only 5% of Hong Kong residents are car owners. But that figure could be misleading as the figure includes car owners from the upper-middle class and the elite class, construction and utility companies that own cars, the fleet of cars owned by administrative departments, and limousines owned by hotels."

Everyone nods, I continue, "Further breakdown will highlight that there is no need to slash fuel prices or fuel taxes. Consider that the upper-middle class, mostly civil servants and executives working in the private sector, receive car allowances. And clever accounting means the elite class can absorb the costs in their tax forms. Construction and utility companies will pass on the heavy fuel costs on to their consumers. As far as the cars owned by us (HK Govt.), we already squander public money for our expenses and do whatever we please. So again, no problems there. And finally, hotels in Hong Kong already milk tourists in every imaginable way. So who cares?"

I pause for breath and notice that Eva Cheng is hastily taking notes. And why not? What I said might help her in her next Legislative Council confrontation.

"Therefore," I continue, "out of 5% car owners in Hong Kong, only 0.03% that are really stuck with lower incomes and cars; might come out and demonstrate. But forget Hong Kong. They can hardly block Ice House Street. And once they do that, we will smash their cars and their car's windows like we did last time."

Wonder Boy and Henry clap. But Eva Cheng looks confused. "What about cheap diesel and truck drivers?" she asks.

"How would I know?" I snarl at her. "I am not a truck driver and I am not in the transport industry. But you can ask them to use Euro V diesel or jump off a tall building if they really can't afford."

Wonder Boy and Henry clap again. "So everything is settled now!" Wonder Boy says as he waves Eva Cheng out of the conference room.

I take the opportunity to pull out my Expense Claims forms and run towards Wonder Boy. "Could you sign these for me, please?" I push the forms under his nose. "These are my petrol expenses incurred while trying to research the environmental impact on the state of Hong Kong. Which is why I was absent for more than two weeks."

Wonder Boy pulls out his pen and gladly signs on the dotted line. I inform him about my (imaginary) meeting with Heung Yee Kok and wave him goodbye.

As I step outside and walk towards my car, I look at the scorching sun. My digital watch tells me that the outdoor temperature is 31.1 degrees Celsius. I run and jump inside my car. The temperature gauge on the dashboard tells me it is a cool 22.5 degrees Celsius inside my car. Oh! The joy of it.

I wave at the Nepalese security guard as I drive out of Wonderland. He waves back.

Ciao!

Unashamedly driving a private car in Hong Kong since 1989 and (probably) polluting the environment!

Nancy Kissel - The Milkshake Murderess

More and more people are coming to this site looking for more information about Nancy Kissel.

Man, she is a dish. Really. Ask Wanker!

I don't know what's going on with her or what happened to her appeal, but I should guess she must be pretty bored and tired in the correctional facility in Hong Kong.

Hey, why don't y'all send love letters, flowers, chocolates, and um... toys, to keep her happy?

Ciao!

Give Us A Bloody Break!

"Man!" Wonder Boy bangs his fist on the table. "Now the airlines are raising their fuel surcharges. US dollar is weakening. Hong Kong Tourism Board says no one seems to be coming to see the Olympics events. China's total attention is on Sichuan earthquake. And it's less than three months to the grand event. How can so many things go wrong?"

Horse look-alike Henry Tang nods, then frowns, and says, "Forget China's problem. If the stadium is empty during Equestrian events in Hong Kong, we would be the laughing stock of the entire event."

As is customary, Henry reaches for the only solution to any problem - a bottle of tax-free red wine. This he pours in three glasses and pushes one towards me. After a couple of sips, Henry stands up and kicks the newspapers off the conference room table. "Damn!" he shouts, "These days the press bring nothing but bad news for us."

Wonder Boy also stands up and pours his wine on the heap of newspapers. "Up Yours!" he shouts. As if on cue, Henry fetches a cigarette lighter and they both try to burn the newspapers. I suspect they have been drinking all night.

As the rags catch fire, Wonder Boy carries the still burning heap to the voodoo altar in the corner. There he throws it on the floor and himself dives on his knees. "Oh God!" he cries, "Give us a bloody break!"

A bit intoxicated myself, I get the impression he is addressing me. "All right my child!" suddenly a booming voice pours out of my mouth. "Here's what you should do. Invite all residents of Shenzhen and Dongguan to watch the Equestrian events in Hong Kong. They pay for the bus or train fares, we throw in the tickets for free. That way, your stadium and stalls will be overcrowded with people."

Both Wonder Boy and Henry stop in their tracks, look at me, and run towards me. They lift me off my chair and above their shoulders. "Hooray!" they shout, "What a wonderful idea!"

I smile a nervous smile worrying that if one of them let's go their grip on me, I might end up with a broken back. But to my relief, they place me on the conference room table. I swiftly slide down and jump in my seat.

The mood in the conference room has suddenly changed. Both Wonder Boy and Henry start discussions about sending out invitations. "Let's just invite the prominent people." Wonder Boy says.

"No, no, let's go by hierarchy, based upon the available seats in our stadium." Henry chirps.

I quietly leave the conference room, lest I am unable to control my already insuppressible hysterical laughter. Wouldn't it look peculiar if there isn't a single foreigner in the entire stadium?

Ciao!

PS: Written in a hurry and too busy these days. Try not to be pedantic...

Goodbye Hillary!

But she just won't go. Right?

Believe it or not, but I have always felt that all US Presidents were selected, not elected, long before elections. Yes, some might think that is far fetched, in a democracy, blah, blah, blah.

I don't think so. US isn't exactly democratic, or not in the true sense of the word. If it were, we wouldn't have George W Bush for two terms, in the first place.

And yes, no one realizes that the United States of America is broke. Not even the Americans. Thankee Very Muchee GWB, for bringing despair to everyone in the world.

Ciao!