Rabbosai, I wish to present, for your general education, a skewed and biased portrait of the Cantonese-American Female.
Having lived with one such for nearly two decades, and having observed the genus for longer than that, I can claim to be an authority on the subject.
There are several characteristics by which the Cantonese-American Female can be recognized.
Cantonese-American Females like literature. Years ago Savage Kitten would lie on the bed laughing maniacally while reading Barbara Cartland and other romance authors. Then she became fascinated with greedy bitches, and read everything she could lay her hands on about Nancy Reagan, Imelda Marcos, and Hollywood gold-diggers. At present she is obsessed with sleazy royal sex - Caroline of Brunswick's lack of hygiene (her petticoats ponged - she changed them once a year whether necessary or not), Henry the Eighth's syphilitic leg-sore (which oozed, stank, and frightened his mistresses), Barbara Villiers (later Duchess of Cleveland) and her raids on the royal treasury as well as the spur of the moment rape of an amazingly limber male carnival performer while she was still the king's mistress (and still married to Roger Palmer, who became Baron of Limerick and Earl of Castlemaine because of her services).
Reading about crazy rich white people is great entertainment.
Unlike many of the modern generation, the typical Cantonese-American Female has a keenly honed mathematical ability. She is able to give exact change, figure out the sales-tax, or keep track of how many times you blinked while surreptitiously ogling her out of the corners of your eyes. She also knows where all of your fingers are at all times. She probably despises calculators.
As far as the passage of time is concerned, however, she may be crippled. She may lament, for instance, that it has been "so very long since I bought any jewelry, so very very long", when it has been less than six days since the last purchase. Or wail that she hasn't had a lobster "in like, for EVER" (two weeks ago).
Or, if it is late, she may astutely observe "we should go to sleep now", then keep you up for hours speculating about important things such as what sauce goes well with roast wombat, or whether her teddy bear (The Head Roomie) is really happy. Banana compote? Is it fatty? Garlic? Hey, is wombat even kosher? Fermented black beans, probably, with rice wine and dark vinegar. And would the teddy bear approve of such a dish? What do you want to eat for dinner tomorrow?
Cantonese have a creative vocabulary. Much of which, if literally translated, is not nearly as shocking as a contextually accurate rephrasis.
Locutions that precisely translate as 'salt-fish panties', 'dead eighth spinster', 'return your stinky feet', 'chuck your dried oyster', 'hit your stinky dented whore's head' ....... these are not really transparently blunt.
Salt fish is what the squidgy parts of a clapped-out old slag might smell like, eighth spinster suggests both habitual incest (eight refers to turtles) and unmarriageable-ugly-stupid-vile, the returning of stinky feet has something to do with your parents and their bad genetic stock, dried oyster misnames a part of the female body, and the last one is, I hope, somewhat self-explanatory.
She claims that this is all exaggerated (foul-mouthed, her? Hah forsooth!) and in any case "occupationally acquired Tourettes Syndrome", caused by long exposure to the fine white Christians at the charity at which she used to work.
Apparently middle-aged white Christians are incredibly foul-mouthed, you just wouldn't believe. In Chinese, too. Honestly. Crazy white people.
The Cantonese-American Female is food obsessed. You can lure her with lobster, shellfish, steamed fatty seabeast, more lobster, crabs, shrimp, eels, delicious pork products, salty and savoury delicacies, another lobster, noodles, European chocolates, dainties, and rarities..... And, for about one week per month, with buckets of fried chicken and ranch dressing. In that week she will also eat Baco-Corn-Nibbles, Sour Cream and Cheddar Potato Gooblies, Zesty Barbecue flavour Cheez-Poofs, Salty Creamcheese Ripplettes, and Shrimp-Flavour Crispotits. While bemoaning the sudden appearance of a pimple, and the lack of lobster.
If it's fuzzy and it smells nice, it is good. Sock Puppets, Teddy Bears, small furry 'roomies', favourite sweaters, and FuzBert.
What, you may ask, is FuzBert? FuzBert is what comes out of the shower - why she nicknamed my stomach 'FuzBert' is a mystery to me, but it speaks to her. Without my wanting it to. FuzBert, apparently, disagrees with almost everything I say. I have not been able to shut him up.
Cantonese girls like pretty things. But diamonds, on this case, are NOT a girl's best friend. Pearls, jade, and Mexican Silver Jewelry are.
For that last category, E-bay is Hashem's gift to the Cantonese girl, and the internet site that she visits most often (several times a day, I think). She is particularly fond of little fright-head brooches and pins, and also of period costume jewelry (the craftsmanhship of old pieces is so much better than the crap available nowadays). Pearls, of course, accentuate her pale skin and swan-like neck. And jade is jade. All Chinese like jade.
Diamonds are for ugly old white women with turkey wattles only. Feh.
Finding panties that are all cotton, have a nice pattern or texture, and are THE RIGHT SIZE, is a potent source of joy. Even in San Francisco, most underwear is meant for large white women. Who really wants to wear baggy granma pants? And why are white women's rear ends big as a bucket? These are questions that every Cantonese girl eventually asks, after ending up in the teenage girls department. One is tempted to go shop at Sanrio for Hello-Kitty Panties instead. At least those come in reasonable sizes, rather than pale heffalump huge.
Currently half of the female student-body at Lowell High School is reading Twilight, or its sequels and rip-offs. The combination of feeding (see FOOD above), danger, and romance, proves irresistible to Cantonese girls with healthy (although repressed) appetites. Those angular features, steely eyes, and firm chins, oh my! Years ago, the series 'Forever Knight' had a similar appeal, and whispering the name (Geraint Wyn Davies) of the actor who played the vampire Nick Knight into her ear would cause her to blush and squeal. It was magic.
I should point out that the right kind of vampire is white. Black vampires are just funny (remember 'Blacula'?), and Chinese vampires don't have it - they're merely reanimated corpses. But ageless, angular, vulpine or acquiline causasians, so deliciously dangerous..... Oh YES! YES! YES!!!!!!!
Geraint Wyn Davies. Squeal blush twitch.
Of course, for more on the subject of Cantonese-American girls, you could visit one of them here:
It turns out Cantonese-American girls also have a thing for Hennesy brandy.
The culmination of a quest detailed here:
Which was begun here:
A regretful distaste for fiery spirits becomes fortuitously apparent here:
I am thrilled by the concept of petite Cantonese-American girls brightly redfaced from the merest sip of liquor.
I find my life now strangely enriched.
After a brief hesitation - for reasons of intruding where I really should not....
surely silk camiknickers are ok for C-A ladies....
I mean silk does originate from China
and feels good whichever side of the garment you find yourself...
Cami-knickers under your kilt much?
My best friend from high school is a Cantonese-American lady. Although she must be at least ten years younger than Savage Kitten, I recognize the basic pattern going on here.
Luckily, you appear to have identified the basic things that will make your life with such a woman easy--cute stuffed toys, jade, and more lobster.
Neat! Five links! And I had forgotten about the Brandy - I wonder if it's still there.
By the way, what's this about Jewish people only drinking Brandy for the next two weeks?
Something about leaving Egypt without flour?
I'm baffled. You should blog about it.
Cantonese American High School Girls and Butter.
For the truly obsessed: http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2010/12/cantonese-american-girls.html
Rereading this in 2012 is rather saddening. My relationship with Savage Kitten is no longer a love-affair, but a friendship. She and I stopped being a couple in the summer of 2010, and I am still sad over what once was.
She's managed to move on.
Well, so have I. In a sense. What's over is over.
We still live together, because we trust each other, and we'll allways remain very good friends.
But my life is emptier, and even though I have not been looking, it would have been nice if someone new came into my life.
I miss the fullness of being that a relationship brings.
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