Out and about as a wussy voyeur
Tuesday 12 March 2013, 8.14am HKT
5.30am, 19°C (66°F), with some rain patches
The past fortnight (or just plain-vanilla ‘two weeks’ to our American cousins) has been ri-di-cu-lous. Scarcely four hours of sleep a day. It’s all been far too memorable, I’m afraid…
I don’t need much sleep anyway, but I do need sleep. Sleep keeps me (how to say?) from going SANE. To keep my mind off that all-important time waster called work, I’m going through an odd spell, a byproduct of which is taking pictures (almost voyeuristically) of people in the street.
The pictures are mostly fuzzy and shaky, and decidedly not up to my usual photographic standards because I’m quite whacked lately.
Yes, they’re chicks. We have only TWO versions. This pair is one version (5%). The other version are short and ugly (80%), fat (10%), and short, fat and horrible-looking (5%). All 100% are snotty and conceited. And 150% of them are overly in love with money. There are no in-betweens. (Somewhere on Hong Kong Island, 16 Feb 2013.)
Notice the emo punk 1970s-style brothel creepers on the chick in the left. (And, yes, 99% of Hong Kong people don’t know those are called that.)
Not the same chicks as above. (IKEA Bistro, Causeway Bay, 01 March 2013.)
People lounging around as if home. (IKEA, 03 March 2013.)
These two seriously cute, nubile, pouty things stopped dead in their tracks and oggled at my long hair, and then moved on, making an infernal racket that can rival the combat scenes in “Saving Private Ryan.” You wouldn’t think two skinny things could be so noisy. (Times Square shopping centre, 04 March 2013.)
She’s from mainland China, and an odd one. She sat with at least one leg up on the railing between the seats the whole time I was there. (MX Café, the Hong Kong Chinese answer to McDonald’s, 05 March 2013.)
See what I mean? I’m not complaining, naturally — she got great-looking legs, especially when standing up, so I suppose she’s just following the maxim “Flaunt it if you’ve got it.”
Also at the same cafeteria a few minutes later was this dishy lady. I decided against taking a frontal shot of her because, honestly, I’d probably get a frontal assault if I did that. Great cleavage (actually), great hairdo … and fiftysomething!
These three or four local birds have got great looks and everything else you could name. Unfortunately, they’re also pretty great in annoyances. They’re loud, they keep blocking people’s way, and they’re messy eaters. But at least they cleaned up after themselves, which is more than what I can say for most people here. (IKEA Bistro, 05 March 2013.)
The one in the grey top had an annoying habit of sprinting all over the place. It’s nice to know if college (she looks like she’s still in college) isn’t working out for her, she could have an alternative career in the 100-metre track and field at the next Olympics representing Hong Kong. She could rename herself Insane Bolt, our answer to Usain Bolt of Jamaica. (IKEA Bistro, 05 March 2013.)
Tourists (and inveterate shoppers) from the mainland. Yup, they stopped wearing Mao suits yonks ago. (Times Square, 05 March 2013.)
This lady (probably in her early 30s) has got some serious a— … ahem, err, umm …
physique designer clothes. She’s going down the escalators in some shopping mall — and I was feeling escalated inside just at the sight of her strolling past me. (Causeway Bay, 06 March 2013.)
Why pay the outrageous prices at the cinema when you can instead watch Captain America do his thing for free at your favourite local electrical appliance store? (Times Square, 08 March 2013.)
Tourist from mainland China. You see?! They show leg. All of them. And they don’t care if you look at them (or their legs). (Café de Coral, Causeway Bay, 08 March 2013.)
I think these two women are more than just friends (geddit?). I’ve nothing against shorties and lofties hitching together, but for this pair the short one is too short and the tall one too tall. The tall one makes the difference even more hilarious by wearing five-inch-high mules. (Causeway Bay, 09 March 2013.)
This mainland Chinese woman with long black hair and hot-red jeans was drawing looks from everybody. The other women were jealous and the guys got no balls to look her direct. Sorry, I couldn’t keep my hands steady … because I was … distracted. (IKEA, 09 March 2013.)
Terrible shot, but maybe you can see Long Tall Sally with hot-red legs practically had her head touching the ceiling. I’m 5 foot 9 and she’s maybe 5-11 or 6 foot. Mainland China don’t manufacture short-arses like we do in Hong Kong. (IKEA, 09 March 2013.)
Time to get a breather and some refreshments.
Blue mohawk and black suede brothel creeper punk-ass boots. Not representative of Hong Kong’s general population. (IKEA Bistro, 09 March 2013.)
This Chinese-American scared the bloody shiz out of me. She came thundering through the doors into McBongo and plonked herself right next to me. She’s very nice-looking and all, but I could do with less abruptness. Imagine if she were to have a concealed carry on her, like we imagine many people do in the USA. (McDonald’s, 10 March 2013.)
This one’s an even bigger bloody menace. I was at this ‘ten-dollar’ store, and she just walked right up to me and, with no warning, went straight down her on knees on me. You know, ‘going down’ like, namsayin’? Crickey! Some guys might like this sort of thing in public, but I’m kinda chickenshite scared of people doing sudden things like that. (Jusco Living Plaza, 10 March 2013.)
Most (that is, 90%) of people in Hong Kong have no damn clue what Teddy boys, greasers, rockers, Mods, punks, skinheads, emos, scene chicks and other subcultures of the Western world are. The remaining 10% has a slightly better idea of the hippie and that’s about it. The junk that passes for ‘punk’ in the popular imagination here is really a mishmash of pseudo-Mod plus 90s Post-New Wave with Hong Kong Chinese characteristics — never mind, it’s seriously hard to explain.
These two, however, have got ‘punk’ nailed. Scruffy skintight black jeans worn to death, black Doc Martens with YELLOW stitching, badly bleached hair kept from disintegrating onto the floor with epoxy glue-quality hair gel, and zero brand names on their bodies (which are pretty much zero too). I’ve seen the real McCoy — in the UK, from when punk literally was born to when it died — and these two were like from a friggin’ time machine. (IKEA Bistro, 10 March 2013.)
What passes for normal folks here. Notice the wide difference in how much clothing is worn. (Causeway Bay, 12 March 2013.)
That ends The Naked Listener’s episode of too-wuss-to-stalk-others voyeurism for today.
Tune in next time for another instalment of fun-filled amateurish entertainment of ‘reject porn‘ fit for the whole family.
(All photos by me.)
© The Naked Listener’s Weblog, 2013. (B13094) All images by me.