Wednesday Weekend Warriors

So not sure how much I have to say after such a long hiatus. SO much has happened OMG. Actually, that's a lie, bugger all has happened really. Some of the luster has gone off my new adopted home as it becomes more home & less of a holiday destination. I am still 'in between' homes currently, having still not found a permanent address. Perhaps there's an upper limit to the number of houses someone can live in each decade? Perhaps my 44th address will be the straw that broke the camel's back? Only time will tell! In any case for now, I'm comfortable enough where I am for the short term, even if I am typing this from the floor in front of my new desk which is about 2 square feet of tv cabinet space. Comfy! Alright, enough of that, let's riff off some photos.

So, on Wednesday night, for no good reason a number of people from my workplace decided it was an excellent idea to go out & get hosed. Well, there was apparently one reason, which is what is evidently the age-old tradition of Hong Kong Wednesday race night. So after a few preparatory glasses of whatever was at hand, we trundled off half sozzled to Happy Valley to ignore the horses & pound booze. Oh, I'm sorry, to watch the races. The track itself is reasonable enough, but like most specialised activity centres of any sort in Hong Kong it pretty much looks like a themed shopping centre. The booze however flows cheap & long. An excellent combination on a weeknight. There's also a remarkably small number of those desperately intent looking punters. You know, the ones with that look on their face that betrays the obvious hope that this next horse comes home so that they can replenish their kids college fund. Most of the folks in the stand were, although interested in the race, mostly just kind of milling about. Socialising! At the horse races! Well, I thought to myself, seem CRAZY, but I'll give it a go.

Happy Valley general admin, overshadowed by its innumerable associated multi-story clubhouses

The other direction, except obviously taken with a little too much zeal

The crowd for some reason becomes a bit more dense around 9. Odd given the whole shebang shuts down at 10 or 11.

A bad shot made great by the guy in the centre who's giving himself what looks like a mighty facepalm. 

"ARGH! STUPID HORSE!"

And this is just another example of why phones shouldn't work when they detect a blood alcohol level above 0.08.

So the races proceeded at that general pace for the evening. Realising no one else wanted white wine, I was forced to switched to red. Not wanting to mix my drinks, I switched to beer(?), thereby proving my excellent decision making capacity. And then it was that time: What's the best thing to do when you've had a skinful of booze on a weeknight? Anyone? No? Go out & start drinking of course! WOOHOO!!!! Let's go out everyone! I'm indestructible!!!

*scene missing*

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. One arm flapping crazily while the rest of my body was utterly immobile trying to get to that goddamned phone. No dice. Wishing I was double jointed I threw my weight sideways to shut up that audio-drill only to realise I'd left my brain on the pillow, my stomach had kept going, & that somehow my bed had been smuggled out of the building in the night & stowed on a sailing ship which was now under full sail under some very heavy seas. GnuurghWTFohchristwhattimeisit? Why is my alarm...

...aw balls. I gotta go to work....

Shit.

Ever heard of the Hansard-Quimby method of hangover testing? Well, the idea is that as soon as you wake up you jump out of bed into a full stand & the harder you hit the ground the more hungover you are. Well, I must've been better than I felt because the 'oh crap work' shock pitched me out of bed at maximum velocity & I hit the bathroom doorframe at a full 45 degree angle, spinning me around so that I kind of leaned into the bathroom like I was being pulled by my waist, but with both arms gripping onto the walls I didn't actually let anything except my butt through the door & after a few of those petrifying pre-bike accident seconds where you can't do anything except watch yourself in slow motion, I eventually managed to right myself. Must've looked way hot. But no floor! Win! That or it's just not possible to fall over in a Hong Kong apartment without bashing into something on the way down. It's like the entire house is a handrail for pissheads. I spent a good three minutes staring at the individual veins running through both of my eyeballs. They were so red I was beginning to think I must've slept upside down like a bat or something. They were pretty much a European roadmap. There was even one which I swear ran a six lane tollway from my right iris right across to the far edge of my left eye. Then I did my bit for the environment by having a 25 minute shower, rechecked my still horrendous eyes & having run out of things to stall with, left for work scraping my dignity & sense of value behind me a like a book bag.

So, I could go on about this all day, but it should suffice to say Thursday was a very ordinary chapter in my life. There were a few McDonalds bags on desks when I got in so I wasn't suffering alone, but unfortunately you can't share pain amongst a group. And then, regardless of the fact that there were other mongs like me floating around, for some ungodly reason I got the guilts & stayed back until like 7:30pm as well. Thinker!

So in conclusion, for those about to rock Hong Kong: Happy Valley races yo. Good times.

As for the rest of the week, it's been a whole lot of not a whole lot goin' on. Yesterday was moderately exciting in that I got my first Hong Kong haircut. Boy's hair always needs a week to grow out, so the fact that I look like across between a school kid & a Jack London model (read, 'girl') is okay for now. Especially since that's pretty much what I looked like after my last hairy too. Saw a dude named Jason at a salon in Soho, Midlevels. It was a pretty rad place & this guy had obviously been around a bit being fairly worldly & very cool. Spent the entire time thinking 'this is going to cost me a thousand dollars'. When he was done I was pretty happy with the result & then POW: HK$208! That's like 25 Aussie dollars! I'll definitely be going back there again. Thanks Jason.

Last night, went to one of those Japanese-style five story driving ranges. That shit was pretty awesome. Amazing how much your drive improves when you're shooting off a 4 metre tall platform. Sweet. You can also get some really good chip shots onto the golf buggy as it goes past. Now I know why we had a sand wedge with us. Ha ha, suckers! Payback time! (For those of you who don't know I worked at a driving range for about 18 months & it was usually me that just about passed a kidney every time a ball hit the cabin of the ball buggy). Oh, I also bought myself a golf glove like a total professional. But like a total dick I spent most of the time undoing the velcro, pulling my fringe in front my eyes & doing the faraway fist clench like those tossers from Air. 

They don't have callouses...

But for some reason I didn't take any photos of the driving range. That was a bit gumby. Well, it was fun anyway. Besides, it's timed in Hong Kong, like all you can bash in an hour, none of this $20 for 100 balls business. Very cool. Also, my slice is getting worse. I think I'm going to hit myself with a golf ball one day when it completes a full 360 degree arc. But whaddya do? I'm in Asia, there's going to be plenty more golf practice.

So, then it was off to dinner. Found a Sezchuan place in Sai Ying Pun which is KICK ARSE. For those who haven't tried real Sezchuan food, it's basically what would happen if you were firing pieces of lamb out of a cannon into a spice factory then burned the factory to the ground. It's covered in herbs & spices, & is generally pretty effing hot too. Had crazy good tofu, these wonderful shaslicks that are just like the ones that we always used to get in Beijing after huge nights out in San Li Tun for like 50 Mao each (about 11c) but we called them rat sticks because we had no idea what they were made from, and a chicken dish that nearly made Ken sweat his frontal lobe out through his forehead. Poor bastard looked like he was going to cry. After seeing that, I steered clear of the sauce for the most part. Shit was like eating lava.

So they were chockers when we got there & we had to wait for a few minutes. They've got this cute little kind of Bethlehem flavoured alley outside which they've stupidly turned into a half-arsed waiting room/storage area. Turkeys. It would be all romantic & everything if they extended the restaurant out there. Oh well, I was with a dude anyways.

Funky window in the waiting alley...

See? Romanzo.

A photo of Ken taking a photo of the chicken pot of death. Oppenheimer would have words about this chicken...

So, sorry if this was more of a functional catch-up sort of email, but it's been a while since I've been on the net, so I've got less to complain about that usual. I'll try my best to have a hissy fit about something next time I get on the blog. That way you can all know I'm still my old grumpy, exaggerating self :D

Also, my butt's numb from sitting on the floor. All for now.