ALMOST MAMMALIAN, ISN'T IT?

According to my blog stats there are far more readers of my scribbles in Hong Kong than in the United States. Which is fine. Unlike Jonathan who lives in Israel, I have mostly given up on the United States, as many people in this country are illiterate neo-confederate bozos.
Who wouldn't know a text if it came up and bit them in the flabby grey rear end.

Here, I have a few pipe smokers and angry Dutch Americans.
There, it's probably the occupants of office blocks.
Desperate to look busy for a while.
After ten in the evening.
Boss still there.

The work culture in Tsim Sha Tsui (尖沙咀) is in some ways insane, dictating that while your boss, who doesn't want to go home to his wife and kids and dissatisfied mother in law just yet stays at his desk playing poker on his computer with the sound off looking grim, you stay at yours perhaps eating instant noodles (公仔麵) and shuffling stacks of paper occasionally.
All of you would far rather be at the karaoke lounge.
But that got you in trouble last time.

You're wired to the tits. Tea and instant coffee. Plus ginseng drinks.
And you miss that curvaceous lady at the karaoke place.

For some reason, you don't know why, you cannot remember if she sings well or not. It might be an awful screeching sound, but your mind is a complete blank in that regard.
Which is actually very American of you.
Almost redneck.

Please admire these curvaceous hills. Don't even think of what they may look like, try to continue looking like you're working on a spreadsheet. Serious. As if your mind is fully absorbed by the import-export numbers. Gently rolling hills.....

I'm off today, and while I too like looking at gently rolling things, I do not pursue it at karaoke bars, because I remain keenly aware of the horrid noises, and I'm probably too old anyway. So instead I will head into Chinatown (six blocks away) for lunch in a short while, perhaps the chachanteng with the Toishanese bint who seems to hold me in scant regard. Which I do not mind. She and I have little in common, and she probably thinks that I smell nasty because of my pipe-smoking. But the food is decent, and it's fairly comfortable there, plus it's located close to where I'll be puffing away afterwards. Quiet alleys. No out-of-town tourists.

No downtown office workers screaming that I'm ruining their lungs think of the children you horrid tobacco fiend it's people like you that ruined this country and you're probably a meat eater puppies kittens butterflies evil bastard! Cough cough cough.


You know, Americans.



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