Spring Break

Well, I've packed, left some luggage space for shopping (a projected estimate based on historical spending patterns and adjusted for decreased purchasing power) and am ready for London. If I'm going to angle for an upgrade then I'll have to look the part. Therefore I will be wearing Chanel for the plane trip.



I don't know how much internet access I'll have because the hotel's business centre closes at some ungodly hour like 6pm. What an uncommercial lot. Don't these people know that blogging is best done in the early hours of the morning after a particularly successful pub crawl?

April is going to be quite a busy month because I need to visit a different country at the end of each week. Management must have big plans for me, like auditioning for the Amazing Race. We'll see if all this travelling expands my mind. My mind is currently like a blank canvas, a puppy's furry coat even, waiting to absorb the safe non-toxic colours the world has to offer!

I'll still be in Hong Kong on some days so check back for brief weekly updates reminding you of my existence. When the pages of my passport run out, this blog will be back at full capacity with:
MORE explosions MORE car chases MORE sex drugs violence MORE bumbling villains MORE wisecracking sidekicks MORE gratuitous cleavage LESS clothing on women...and that's just the fashion roadkill section.

In the meantime, feel free to read other blogs (the fabulous ones appear in the sidebar) and date other people. Now is the time to grab the bull by the horns and wear it!

Position vacant

Every now and then I like to seek out the damp and dark corners of the earth. So this weekend I'm off to London! My 10 day itinerary will consist primarily of Kabbalah sessions with Sister Mad-Esther interspersed with stalking of Jude Law. There's also a wedding I have to attend. Nothing fancy, just two plain-looking folk exchanging vows at the registry office followed by a church blessing and finger food.

This wedding is significant because the elevation of Royal Mistress to Princess Consort creates a vacancy that needs to be filled at taxpayers' expense. To this end, the Prince's search led him to places such as Australia and New Zealand which despite their remoteness, had heard of British royalty through the supermarket tabloids. Alas, the search for a suitable replacement has been a Goldilocks' tale:

Too athletic


Too much like first wife


Too much like wife to be


Too buffed


Too precocious


Too flighty


Too competitive


Too indigenous


Too hard to pick out from the crowd


But perhaps not. I think we may have found one that's just right. Have her shorn and brought to my room.


And so it transpired that they (ie the Mount-batten Windsor men and their ovine concubines) all lived happily after.


The end.

Pleats Please

You know yesterday when I said that men will never look as good as we do in a skirt, I was stretching the truth a bit. I tend to do that when I want to get a point across. Like when I say that figure skating is a magnificent sport of sound & fury, but more so fury, that statement may inherently specious. It really only serves as an opportunity to post such photos of Michelle Kwan:



Now then, how attractive can a man look in a skirt? To answer that question, I'd have to consult Skortman, the male authority on unbifurcated clothing. Give the man a piece of extra-soft cotton poplin fabric and he'll convert it into an arresting skirt slip and panty set. The skirts come in a variety of shapes and pleated styles reminiscent of high school netball skirts. A guy could comfortably play several positions around the court in those skirts.

The skorts have a crotch element to them but they have enough flare to make a gust of wind an experience. The one thing that bothered me about the designs was the emphasis on pleating. In the retro section, there is Japanese sailor skirt with, you guessed it, more pleats. Mix it up, throw in a slit or a ruffle now and then, will ya?

The customer photo section that treats us to an abundance of strapping man-leg, which is really what we all came here for. Frankly I'm appalled...appalled at all the inappropriate footwear. I also think that these men have don't quite know what they're setting themselves up for. While the minis are sassy, flirty and fun for strutting about town, it's REALLY hard to maintain dignity when climbing up a flight of stairs or getting in and out of a car. Past a certain age, a more conservative length would be more befitting.

So take your time exploring Skortman's home on the web. It's a detailed text-heavy site that runs the gamut from Jungian theory to a blistering diatribe on the Catholic church. Once you've done with that, flounce on over to Samantha Rebecca's playhouse. The fashion here is more girly and whimsical and there are petticoats involved.

By this point, you're probably waiting for me to jump out and scream Early April Fool's. Trust me, it's not going to happen.

Pick a gender, any gender

Every now and then, a reader will get sexually confused and raise questions about my gender. Could it be my gruff prose, the disproportionate amount of posts devoted to skankiness or just my boyish good looks generally? Ah well, who can blame them! The gender distinctions are so blurred nowadays that nobody knows what to think anymore. Even a URL like penisland.net is not as blatantly masculine as it's made out to be.

What's more, even Richard Gere, who's probably seen more women than your local gyno, can't tell the difference between Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi and his female dance partner. And something tells me that Koizumi likes to be led:



Maybe it was the scent of sandalwood & yuzu fruit and the softness of skin made so by patented SKII Pitera..but, but the American Gigolo ought to know better!

Let's face it people, there are increasing numbers of men out there who badly want to be women. Apart from the menstruation and birthing and the most painful of all i.e. depilation, it's generally Fantastic being female. We can spend all our disposable income on making ourselves pretty! We're so pretty, oh so pretty! The men may make incoherent noises about the expenditure involved but they secretly envy us because their hair will never smell as nice and they will never look as good in high heels and a super-fitted black dress.

This is especially true in South Korea where just about every female looks like the flawless heroine of a Korean tv drama (before the requisite fatal disease sets in). It is a nation of so much pretty that many of the guys have given up trying to measure up to their beauty. Well if you can't beat them, join them. Hence the rise in gender reassignment operations. Hence also the first manufactured transgendered pop group called Lady:



I think it would be highly irresponsible of them not to include a cover version of Dude (Looks Like a Lady) in their debut album. As one band member says:

"We love chocolate, shopping and gossip. Mentally we were always women, the only difference being that we changed something physical, simply we are women with an extra scar"

Women with an extra scar. You know, I hadn't really thought of it like that. One could win a lot of scar comparing contests that way. Anyway, look out for Lady's debut album very soon. Perhaps their music can convince more men to convert. I recommend that you book your gender reassignment operations early to avoid disappointment.

With all the feminisation that's going on, it's no wonder that some people think that man is an endangered species:

At one point, man was driving a backhoe, daydreaming about Brigitte Bardot. The next thing you know, he's putting on nail polish. What the hell is happening!?

It's a terribly engaging site that had me in its thrall for a while. Reading it really put some hair on my chest. In addition to what was already there of course.

Die wallets die

One day I am going to stop buying wallets and be done with them. They just don't work. Take today, for example, when I was at supermarket stocking up on non-perishable high quality packaged products as one does. When it came time to pay, I had to dig around in my wallet to find the money. My wallet made no effort to tell me how much money there was in it, or whether I could afford all that imported champignon jelly.

In return, the cashier dumped upon me a handful of dollars and coins, an awfully long receipt and those baffling little stamps (I have no idea what these stamps can be exchanged for but I always accept them because I support the war effort). There was no room to move, no time to sort everything into the little leather compartments. The cashier was frantically moving me on to meet her efficiency targets, while I could feel against my neck the hot anxious breath of a customer with 10 items exactly, which in a less retail setting could have been almost sensual.

Not being able to work cohesively with my wallet is the type of thing that can lead me to a very public meltdown. I very nearly threw the whole thing at the cashier screaming "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!? I NEED TIME! TIME TO SORT THINGS OUT!" I don't need to deal with this..this stress on a daily basis. I don't need to spend time sorting.

Owning a wallet encourages bad habits like accumulation of irrelevant business cards (eg Chan Yick Pun Father and Sons Medicine Hall) and sepia-tinged baby/pet photos. Wallets lead us to think that we need to carry around cash when a credit card will do. These days, some things are better purchased online anyway with a credit card. Worst of all, each designer wallet represents that extra bit of monogram that the world could do without.

Have you also experienced feelings of disillusionment with your wallet? You may have even toyed with the idea of having The Jimi if only for its sexy iPoddy-style colours. It's attractive, slim and compact, the Kylie Minogue of wallets really. You can even hang it around your neck if you don't mind wearing a miniature chopping board.

Right now I'm quite enamoured with Archport's Stealth Wallet. Who knew that shoes can store more than just illegal explosives. It's an ingenious design that will outwit those bumbling KAOS agents. I can't wait for Archport to develop its line of womens shoes. When that happens, the death knell for wallets will sound loud and clear.

You Like, You Buy Vol 25

The World Group (www.theworld.com.hk) is responsible for introducing some of the worst fashion atrocities to Hong Kong under the guise of European glamour. The brands they distribute are somewhat popular because inside every wealthy Hong Kong housewife is a tarty streetwalker trying to get out. I really don't know what else to say about the women I've seen shopping at these boutiques, except that they're definitely not young. They're not nubile either. Heck, they're probably not even ovulating anymore. What a sobering thought.


Get out of my wet dreams, get into my car


I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world
Life is plastic, fantastic
You can touch my hair, but it costs extra to undress me everywhere


See officer, I can snort, er walk, a straight line.


Sigh. I am so tired of this daily grind. I wish I could have a change of scenery, like a new street corner.


Why don't you see if there are any motel rooms left and I'll mind the car for you.


Oh here we go, it's Charlie Sheen again.


This whole outfit just screams entrapment to me.