Sometime this evening this blog will receive its 5,000th visitor. If I had known when I had started that I would reach such a milestone so soon I would have said: "There's no way there are that many people with that much free time on their hands."

How wrong I was.

If you are the lucky 5,000th visitor please leave a comment so I can appropriately reward you. And rest easy in the knowledge that 4,999 people before you had as much time to waste as you.

Russell Crowe and wife have decided to skip the pre-natal classes for the impending birth of their first child. As usual they've gone an interviewed a couple of midwives who've tut-tutted and blamed the husband for pressuring the mother-to-be out of it. Yes, mothers-to-be cannot think for themselves so it must be the dastardly husband. Mrs M and I went and did the pre-natal class before JC was born. These classes revolve around the following precepts:
* touchy-feely hippy cr@p to get in touch with the "most important experience in your life" (like watching Steve Waugh's final test happens every day).
* scaring parents-to-be by listing every improbable thing that could go wrong with the pregnancy and birth
* explaining why you will be the worst parents in the universe if you don't breast feed your child.
* reminding you that you will forever condemn your child to an eternity of hell if you don't breast feed your child.
* tell you that breast is best.

This is all not very helpful when the day finally arrives. Nothing happens as it is explained. The midwives who actually help deliver the child (in both the case of JC and PB) are helpful and able to explain what's going on. As is the obstetrician. That's what they're paid for.

What would be a million times more useful is classes telling you what to do when you get home. Babies don't come with instruction manuals. There are plenty of books that help but getting some first-hand advice from someone who's already been there and done that is worth thousands of words. And it turns out when we asked the midwife giving the class what she did with her kids, she admitted she had them on the bottle rather than breast-feeding. But she wasn't allowed to say that in the class as it was against policy.

End result: the pre-natal classes were mostly a waste of time and money. Better preparation is to get lots of sleep and enjoy having some money to spend on yourself.

Two other asides:

1. This one from a co-worker for Shaky and Phil: "In defeat the English are gracious; in victory unsufferable."

2. We're waiting for the tailor to turn up as we're getting some business shirts made up. This man has missed two appointments with us so far, even though we've promised him orders for 15 shirts. Obviously business is getting better in HK again.

I cut my rant a little short as I had my Cantonese lesson. I'm getting better - I can now understand when I get a wrong number that the person is saying. Sort of. As an aside I find it amazing that Chinese has something like 90 dialects but it is written exactly the same way. The expression "Englishmen are sore winners" is written the same way but pronounced completely different in each dialect. Not just accent, but completely different words.

So to finish the ranting. There I was, deflated that the news had finished and I was none the wiser as to what was going on in the world. The sport report consisted of a couple of soccer results with no pictures and then a cut to some local tennis tournament press junket, complete with shoddy camerawork and cardboard cutouts. Then it's time for the weather. I kid you not, the lady says "Let's see what Freddy thinks." Then Freddy, a 1986 computer animation, trots across the screen, turns to the sky and awaits some other 1986 graphic to demonstrate sun, showers, cloud or something looking like a steroid-induced flower. Then he trots across the rest of the screen. I immediately drafted an invoice for TVB to try and at least reclaim some monetary compensation for the 5 minutes of my life that was wasted. But THEN the weather lady proceeds to repeat that tomorrow will be fine/cloudy/flower attack. Lastly they give a run-down of global weather, picking out appropriate places like Ulan Baator, Alexandria and Port-au-Spain (apologises to readers from these cities). Finally we get vision of the weather in various German provincial cities. WTF?

That is the irony of Hong Kong. You can buy some of the greatest TV sets in the world at great prices, but there's nothing to watch.

Last night I had the luxury of watching the local news. And what an enlightening experience it was. There was so much blog-worthy goodness I might have to get Mrs to record it each night.

There was the usual croc-fest coverage. From the SCMP: Australian crocodile-hunter John Lever yesterday called an end to his hunt for the Yuen Long crocodile. Sure there's Bush's visit to Iraq, increased Taiwan/China tension and the like. But after a couple of local stories of little import there was the inevitable analysis of the days non-events with this crocodile. This crocodile has done more to put HK on the international map than the HK$100 million Harbour-Fest. So let's imagine that the HK Government committed the same kind of resources to this croc. Proper stadium seating, a daily roster of times for viewings, charging at HK$50 per hour. Add it to the mainland tourist trail around HK. Include it in advertising for HK. There's your new slogan: Hong Kong, City of Croc.

Otherwise the news was cr@p. Not the content, but the presentation. The readers were OK but the reporting was woeful. It seems that all Hong Kong media works on the assumption that their audience is completely stupid. Thus they require patronising coverage of any news event with simplistic interviews and little insight. To be fair this applies equally to the press and radio. What gives? Are all Hong Kongers so stupid? That's meant to be a rhetorical question.

I have plenty to give thanks for. I had the most relaxing day off yesterday. Mrs M has a busy morning helping out at JC's school. That left PB and me to entertain our guests visiting from Oz. We went for a walk down to a reservior just below Disneyland. PB and her little Australian friend enjoyed looking looking at the fish and pollution before we hiked back up the mountain in time to pick up JC from school. Back at home Mrs M and her friend announced they were off shopping for "a couple of hours", which translated into English means they would be out until dinner time. They headed over to the dark side - Kowloon, partly to get our "real" watches fixed. Who would have thought that such watches would break so quickly?

Meantime I left JC to watch videos and took PB and her friend down to the playground. There they spent a merry couple of hours finding various bits of dirt and leaf to eat. The playground was busy and I discovered that it is really just another social occasion. Being one fo the only men over the age of 5 in the place meant I was an immediate magnet for various mums looking at avoid various other mums. I was almost like an oddity at the zoo, an exhibit to be humoured for a little while before leaving for the next cage. Still both kids in my charge were alive and bruise-less. We headed down for an outdoor dinner with the three kids. The beauty of this they can make as much mess as they like without us having to worry about cleaning it up. Just whip the hose out after we've fininished and the mess goes away.

Terry towelling tracksuits just don't work. No exceptions.

Who was Terry anyway? He/she has a lot to answer for.

Last night's HK blogger meet-up was a success. Various people drifted in and out but there about 10 bloggers over the course of the night. We even had a blogger from the US who came along - although it was a worry at first when he was wielding his camera. Even Shaky turned up and after everyone got through the Doris thing he turned out to be a top guy. I managed to make my excuses and leave about midnight but a few of the lads (as it was by then) had that gleam in the eye...I don't think they'll be home yet. Of course they weren't facing having a 2 year old join them in bed at 6am (at least I hope not).

We had Dan Gilmour turn up for a while. Who's Dan Gilmour? Turns out he's a Silicon Valley newspaper identity, so we're all expecting plenty of traffic in the next few weeks. Plus he had this really cool phone/organiser/web browser thingymiggy.

Otherwise there was Phil, UK Joe, Eyal, Chris, Ben for a brief visit, Ron, and a few adoring fans. OK maybe not adoring, but interesting nonetheless. The conversation covered most of the common issues and problems we all face as bloggers. You know, like what the hell to write about each day. Hemlock and Conrad didn't appear, although I suspect they did a "walk past" to check us all out and were suitably impressed by what they saw. I've no doubt something similar will happen in the not-too-distant future.

Meanwhile I expect light blogging today. Mostly because I'm not at work and it's a beautiful day today. Plus we've got out-of-town guests staying with us. Shame coz there's lots to talk about.

UPDATE: I've been remiss and put in Chris, who apparently wasn't there, and omitted Dave, who was.

Phil's got a good summary of the HK legal system. In his case it is relating to the matter of a murder case involving some expats, an extremely rare occurance here and one that is still talked about in the relatively insular expat community. Like most ex-British colonies HK follows a common law system and has had surprisingly little interference from China which in theory can overrule any local decision. I know of only one time when this happened which related to residency of HK-born children of mainlanders. Very happy for corrections but one think that keeps HK attractive to the wider world is its legal system and rule of law. I don't think the Glorious Motherland wants to tinker too much with that.

I find it interesting though that Phil chose to post this today, just prior to HK Blogging's night of nights. Mrs M please refer to his post and prepare bail money as necessary. Will be in touch from Wan Chai police station sometime obscenely early tomorrow morning.

5 billion people in the world tomorrow will totally ignore the fact it is Thanksgiving in the USA. I am one of them. I know Thanksgiving is a big deal for Americans. I have no idea why. I know it is a big family gathering kind of day. I have no idea why. I thought that's what Christmas was for. Is this a way that couples can keep both sides of the family happy? Visit one set for Thanksgiving and one set for Christmas.

I really don't understand what turkeys have to do with it all. But I do know that tomorrow is likely to be a day off for me. That's the main thing. In my line of work I often have to work on public holidays so getting a day off will be worth giving thanks for. So thanks.

What's with an executive summary? Are executives too stupid to have a normal summary? Do they require everything broken down into 24 bullet points? If so then what's with the other 145 pages after the summary? Has anyone ever read the rest of the document? And what about those of us who aren't "executives"? Do we get to read the executive summary too? Or are we just required to skip it and plough through the pages of graphs and text? Are there different summaries for different levels of executives? Does it keep getting whittled down so that by the time it reaches the CEO it's down to a single sentence? Or even just a word?

Could I fit any more questions in one post?

The big blogger bash is tonight. It should be interesting to say the least. Little does the HK blogging community realise it is really part of my plan to stop them all blogging all night long while normal people (read me) go out/sleep/enjoy life. I will stop them all; there will be no blogging tonight in Hong Kong. All because of me. Bhuwhahahahaha...ooops, did I just think all that or type it? Oh poop. At least I didn't mention that Glenn Reynolds is mixing the drinks. Puppy slushies, anyone?

More interesting is the profusion of Christmas lights all over Hong Kong. There is hardly a high rise or street lamp that doesn't have some kind of fairy lights or kitschy celebration of JC's birthday. If I can understand why many religious Christians get upset with the complete over-commercialisation of an estwhile holy day. I do not know if local families give gifts to each other but it's always an interesting time for me. Being Jewish the whole Christmas thing means nothing to me but that doesn't stop repeated questions whether my family still gives gifts. The answer is no. Except to my father-in-law. But that's because his birthday is December 24th. No, we don't have a Xmas tree. We don't wait for Santa. It is a little confusing for my girls and no doubt one day there will be stories along the lines of "Why doesn't Santa bring us presents?" I will explain it to them and they won't understand but the truth is that Christmas as a time of giving long ago lost its meaning anyway. Now it's about cheezy TV Xmas specials and boosting retail sales.

As Shaky pointed out though Guandong/HK isn't exactly overflowing with electricity. A few less Christmas lights wouldn't hurt the cause. Bah, humbug.

I asked Jen to help settle the lifelong battle I've been having with my brother. Encyclopedia Jen has come to the rescue. Is there anything this woman doesn't know?

Could this week get any worse? First we lost the Rugby to friggin' English. Now Steve Waugh, Australia's Test cricket captain and future Prime Minister, announces his retirement.

And these things always happen in threes. Why o why, dear Lord, do you so mock me?

If you've got a Google toolbar on your browser there's a button in the middle with the web page's ranking. Mine's been at zero until today. Now I've made it to 4/10. That's the best ranking I've had since Debbie C. back in uni.

Every time I give a supermarket check-out person cash, they instantly check it, holding it up to the light. Not just big notes like the HK$500 or the little accepted HK$1,000. They friggin' hold coins up to check them.

Do I look like the type?

There's a barney going on over at Glutter that has quickly descended into bitterness, name calling and the like. See Lai and Phil are in the thick of it and now Yan wants to get away from what's been started. There's a few issues here which I'm going to look at in turn:

1. Isms
There's people pointing fingers everywhere in this "debate" and as usual when talking about such things it all has become personal. People take offense, misunderstandings abound and no-one actually listens to anyone. Instead it all descends into finger pointing and aggro. The silliest thing about this whole debacle is most people are furiously agreeing with each other: racism/sexism/whatever-ism is taken as bad and no-one wants to be accused of it. In a place like HK racism is ever present, even if it is not always obvious. The DAB propose banning non-Chinese permanent residents from voting. Not all permanent residents, just non-Chinese. Treatment of helpers. Comments made, fingers pointed. There are numerous examples of racism both ways, both from Gweilos and from locals. That's the point: no-one is immune to it and it happens to everyone and to some extent everyone has been guilt of betraying isms. No-one's perfect. There's always a fear of the unknown, of the other. Modern Western liberalism tries to PC it out of existence but basic human nature is impossible to change. The only way to deal with it is to be grown-up enough to deal with it.

2. Glutter has asked to be removed from all HK blogger lists. Yan herself mentioned in her comments that this is all in the public domain (she is responding to Phil's request for direct links to posts she is accusing of homophobia):

People have the right to say what they want and I have the right to think what I want. It's why it's called "public domain."

It's why it's important to have different voices. The whole idea of self publishing and the internet in general. Differing points of view being almagamated and spread. Part of a global discussion.

I respect that she wishes to be removed from my blogroll. But my considered answer is no. Firstly I find her site interesting, and as per my policy that means it qualifies. Secondly this is my blog. I respect Yan has her own but it's on the internet and that makes it in the public domain. Would she object if I had her own my roll if I was in Singapore? Or in Sydney? It remains my blogroll and my blog and I've decided she stays. I make no apologies for that. If she wants to keep it as a closed environment then a blog is not the way to do it.

Like I said earlier it's a hubbabaloo over not much. There's some good points made in the comments to Yan's post and if you've got time you should read it. It's a demonstration in a snowball effect.

And it all started because of "Not that there's anything wrong with that" from Seinfeld. I miss that show.

Like many offices around the world our floor shares a water cooler. It's tucked in the pantry with a (free) Coke manchine, fridge, microwave and something resembling coffee. The water cooler gets used a lot as it provides both filtered cold water for those following the 8 litres a day regime plus hot water for various teas and concoctions. Inevitably though in office such as this the water quickly runs out and someone has to replace the tank on the top. I've seen people go in, drain the water tank of it's last drop, get frustrated, stare at the full tank on the ground, turn and walk away. Now these tanks are moderately heavy and there are plenty of men and women who probably feel it's going to be too much. But as a parent I can tell you these tanks weigh less than a one year old, so it's hard to see why anyone under the age of 80 can't lift one about 4 feet to replace the empty old one.

So I've done the right thing and replaced the tank (this being the second time in two days I've done this. No, don't thank me. It's just part of my community service and should help for my review). What amazes me more is the water in the tank is at room temperature. Yet as soon as I put it in the cooler and get some water for myself it's cold. Immediately. Not even 15 seconds later. It's instantly cold. How does that happen? The only other time I know this happens is when the hot water runs out in the shower.

Instant cold water. Small things are amazing me today.

The elections on the weekend to District Councils have had some impact on the pro-Government Democratic Alliance for Betterment of Hong Kong:

Tsang Yok-sing has resigned as Democratic Alliance for Betterment of Hong Kong chairman after the party suffered its worst ever election result on Sunday.

Some have argued they were punished as part of HK's emerging democratic awareness and on-going rebellion against poor governance.

I prefer to think they were punished for mangling the English language. Yes, betterment is a word, but as a political party name DAB is not what springs to mind as a catchy name that clearly demonstrates the principles for which the party stands. Why not call it the Pro-Government Party? The Do As We Say Party? Tung Che-Waa and the Glorious Motherland Can Do No Wrong Party? All parties are suspect any way, but having Democratic and Betterment just doesn't work. It's OK though as the party itself is on the verge of oblivion.

Now Insert Witty and To-the-Point text here. A few funny asides, an important topic comprehensively covered in easy to read blogspeak.

Final clever sentence here.

Then just add your astute comments.

It's that easy.

I really owe Pixy a whole lot of thanks:

Thanks, thanks, thanks. And they're all good posts to boot. Thanks.

It's a very slow day at work, I'm meant to be losing weight for my brother's wedding and the depression from the weekend loss is failing to lift. There is only one cure: dim sum lunch.

As a not-very-interesting aside I might as well tell you how I developed an affection for jazz and blues music. My Da has long been a fan of jazz and set me on the course. But that wasn't the only reason, as my brother's taste in music ranges from abysmal to terrible and he was raised in the same house (although we still await DNA testing to prove conclusively his parenthood). I got into blues as an offshoot of jazz listening to help me through those teenage angst years and university quasi-counter culture phase.

I was about 21 when my Da asked if I'd like to go see Wynton Marsalis play at the Sydney Opera House. Marsalis is the modern jazz maestro from a jazz family. He cops flak but is a darn fine musician. At the time I already had a couple of his discs in my collection, my collection being built up courtesy of a university subsidy that was spent on music rather than anything to further my education. For those unfortunate enough to have never visited Sydney, the Opera House is not just a landmark. It is a cultural hub with theatres and concerts and any visit is always an ocassion. You really feel like you are going "out" when you go.

This particular night I headed into the city with Da. Found our seats in about the middle of the imposing concert hall, usually the scene of opera or symphonies rather than jazz. The scene was the ecletic jazz crowd from university professors to urban professionals to hip young kids to ragtime retirees. There was the usual hushed murmurs before a concert in such a rarified atmosphere while everyone waited for the lights to dim. Suddenly Marsalis appeared on stage, alone. He held a hand up to the side of the stage and said to the band to just wait a minute. There was the start of a round of applause when he turned and held his hand to the crowd. He said "I just want to tune up and get started." With that he played a 10 minute trumpet solo that was stunning in its virtuosity. His band slowly joined him and the concert proceeded in the same vein, with Marsalis generous in sharing the spotlight with his band. They were having as good a time as the crowd and it showed.

I've been to plenty of concerts in my life but this one was certainly the best. I walked out with my Da and we both had smiles from ear to ear, as did the rest of the crowd. Even now thinking back I get a warm glow at the thought of that night. It was just that special. A confluence of time and place that lead to something bigger and ebtter that than the sum of its parts. I hope that one day I'll be taking JC or PB to something like that and they'll always remember it too.

Word is spreading... (thanks Phil)

Final details for this Wednesday night:

VENUE: The Fong (upstairs)
TIME: 7:30pm (but feel free to start earlier)
COST: As much as you can drink. There's no set prices or minimums, it's a just a good old fashioned HK drink-a-thon.

Looking forward to seeing everyone there.

Using my myriad of sources across the world I have discovered some shocking facts about the author of that little read tome: Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus. While one would have thought that stating the obvious requires few qualifications, the author, John Gray, made much of his doctorate and qualifications in writing bland homilies that "explain" the complexities of human relationships.

Well my Mum has come across some shocking facts. In her examination of tabloid TV she came across the schlock shock show Inside Edition. They've discovered Mr. Gray's PhD is from a dodgy California "correspondence school". Those are the ones that award degrees if you write in with a cheque and a promise that you've been alive for 10 years or more. Of course he has a solid basis to build from, getting his undergraduate degree from the Maharishi's almost Ivy League school in Switzerland. I didn't realise there were degrees in gunja but there you go.

These shocking facts mean I will continue to never read the book. Thanks Ma. The world is a little safer now. And as she asks, who can you trust these days? Tabloid TV at least.

I like to use the first entry of a new week as a time to recap the events of the weekend. Usually it gives me time to make pithy remarks about life in HK while keeping the family up-to-date with our goings-on. However rather obviously there was a major event that has caused much soul searching over the past 24 hours or so...but we'll get to that in turn.

Firstly Saturday morning was spent idling. I mean the "I" in idling, as Mrs M got up with PB and JC and allowed me to claw back some of my sleep-debt. Dressing for the day, I immediately reached for my almost-real Wallabies jersey and spent the day wondering around HK in a Stanley market 3 sizes too big 2 season-ago footy jumper. Mrs M and I left the girls for their afternoon nap and raced around doing various errands. A quick trip to Wan Chai followed by an even quicker one to Great at Pacific Place. Great is a massive up-market supermarket. Up-market means they stock plenty of goods from around the world at around-the-world prices. Dutifully following Mrs M around we were met with a "Go Wallabies" from the butcher, who of course was an Aussie. Several minutes of light banter and 24 sausages later we were best of friends, brought together by stuffed meat and Rugby.

If you were walking around the pedestrian area in Causeway Bay about 2pm on Saturday afternoon you would have seen us. We did not have the road map with us and the usual way through seemed to have a detour. Plus a sign saying no entry. And another announcing it was all a pedestrian walkway. But we took them all to be mere suggestions. So we ploughed through. Didn't hit anyone although we certainly got plenty of stares. I like to think many of the comments in Cantonese were wishing the Wallabies the best of luck for the night, but I can't be too sure. We made it through and didn't have to suffer the indignity of taking the detour. Then we had the pleasure of an hour in IKEA. What those Swedes don't know about plasterboard furniture is just not worth knowing. It's all cheap yet it all looks moderately passable, in an inoffensive Scandinavian kind of way. Yet with a couple of kids cheap good given it will be chipped/smudged/smeared/painted and has a half-life of a year. Of course we came out of there having spent the GDP of a small Central American country.

Raced home to prepare for the multi-national hordes who were coming to watch the RWC final. We had representatives from Australia, England, France, USA, Sweden, Ireland, South Africa and even Melbourne. Mrs M went into hostess mode and put on a spectacular event which I can't even pretend to have made a contribution towards. The game itself was a cracker, with Australia coming from behind twice, only to lose in extra time. There were some bits that made the night interesting. Firstly our cable box has been playing up: it sometimes "freezes" for up to 15 seconds at a time. It has been getting worse. So after a first half of alternating between edge-of-seat viewing and absolute terror at not knowing what was happening, a plan was hatched. A fellow Disneyland inmate went and got their cable box and we switched them. It worked. And Cable TV are getting an irate call tomorrow. Also PB got a little freaked out twice: once when her daddy hit the floor in priase of the Lord our God who let Flatley kick the penalty that tied the game up in; the second when a certain Englishman raptourously pounded the windows in celebration of the final winning kick. England were deserved winners and can now spend the next 40 years waiting for another World Cup victory, in any sport. Of course they won't mention that at the same time Australia completed a 3-0 whitewash of England in Rugby League. But no bitterness here. It was one of the great Rugby games of all time. Not surprisingly the English contingent were set for a massive night, while the thought of going out suddenly seemed miles from my mind. Like any patriotic Aussie male, my patriotism is shown via sport more than anything else. All I can console myself with was the myriad of other sports we are world champions in.

Sunday morn I returned Mrs M's favour and got up with the girls. Of course PB decided it was "scream-a-thon" morning, while JC decided PB made a delightful toy to strangle. Using my negotiating powers we eventually reached "peace in our time", which was 8am. Later we snuck into the HK Cricket Club for some pool and playgroudn time before returning for schluff time. In the afternoon we had visitors drop in for a quiet afternoon.

Had to change some lightglobes this evening. We had replaced the old ones but had put in by accident that horrible white light that makes fluroscent lights seem good. It seems to be the more popular colour for lighting HK but not for this little Aussie family. After finally finding the "Cool Daylight" bulbs to replace them, I perched precariously on the table and stool to reach up and change them. Of course in HK Cool Daylight is just another name for white. Now I know you're not meant to look at the sun, but any 4 year knows daylight = yellow, not friggin' white. But HK's consumer protection laws aren't so strong. Instead I marched back to the local supermarket with the world's most expensive light globes in hand and found the "Warm White", which using the same logic had to be yellow. Headed to the checkout. Now in HK most of the checkout, ummm, well, not chicks, let's call them checkout women, have name tags that also tell you if they speak English. The wonderful rostering at Park 'n' Shop meant not one English-speaker was on duty. This was a good thing. Why? Because I had no receipt for said expensive light bulbs. So I marched to the checkout and told the lady I wanted to return this and buy these other two. She had no idea what I was saying so she sent me to the supervisor. She also had little idea what I was saying. But with some hand gesturing my intent was made clear. Then the question came: "Receipt?" I looked her straight in the eye and told her I had none. This was cunning on my part because one thing local people abhor is confrontation. There was no chance of the supervisor making a scene. She simply accepted the return and told me to bring a receipt next time. The truth was I had bought the light bulb from that supermarket so there was no real crime committed.

But Western chutzpah tends to go far in these parts. As Cable TV will find out tomorrow.

I just don't want to talk about it. Twice the Wallabies clawed back to level up, but in the end it was a kick too much.

Now I'm going to have listen to 4 years of Poms saying they've got the greatest rugby team blah blah blah. There is nothing worse. At least I've got something to take my mind off it.

I've just re-read today's SCMP article on blogging and it really lives down to everything about the SCMP. I don't want to bite the hand etc., but there's some pretty poor parts. Besides my limited remarks this morning there's plenty more that really needs looking at here. Truth is I can't really be bothered devoting too much time to it, but here's a quick go. Overall the article's first few paragraphs are just background that could have come from one of a hundred articles recently written about blogs. The "hook" of next week's party isn't bad until the third sentence: While the guests don't know each other, most know everything about each other. That just doesn't make sense - I can know plenty about someone without ever having to meet them face to face. I know way too much about Michael Jackson, for example, and I hope to God I never meet him. I think the sentence is meant to say "While they haven't met, most know everything about each other."

There's lots more, but the bus will soon be here and I'd rather go and see the family. I might have a go on Monday. It all depends if I'm in a good mood or not. And that all depends on a certain game tomorrow night. It's like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure. Feel free to join in the bashing; just link back to here or add it to the comments.

UPDATE: Phil's done a much better job of it. At least he's not bitter.

It makes so much more sense for the working day to be broken up. There should be a morning session, followed by an extended 2 hour plus lunch/siesta time, followed by an afternoon/evening session. In HK lunch is sacrosanct anyway. You will never find anyone at their desk during that precious hour. But I'm taking it one step further. There needs to be a bigger gap. Either you can go out and enjoy a leisurely lunch or you can have a siesta. How many times have you come into work just thinking about that time, long distant, where you could lay down your weary head for a little nap time? A visit to the Slumber King? At least this way employers would get half a productive day out of an otherwise hungover/sleep deprived/exhausted/completely shagged out employee. Plus it would benefit the economy. Not just productivity, but imagine the increase in restaurant and hotel industries. Not to mention those who work as ladies of the night can also work as ladies of the day.

Let's start this now. Today, I want you to say to your boss "I'm taking a 2 hour Simon Work Siesta^TM *". If the reply is "Great, so am I" you know that (a) you have a great boss and (b) you've now got 2 hours up your sleeve. If the reply is "What are you talking about?" then best come back with something witty like "Lookout, here comes Halley's Comet!", turn and run. Your boss knows you are crazy anyway so this will just confirm it. Add to the effect by talking to yourself about the "near miss" you saved your boss from to co-workers and changing topics mid-sentence, e.g. "Yes, I think we should upgrade the servers and how about those Wallabies huh?" That should at least guarantee you an interuption free afternoon while you enjoy your Simon World Siesta^TM in your cubicle.

Please don't thank me. Just another service of this blog.

* I take no responsibility for anyone that actually follows this advice.

Today is one of those perfect HK days. The air is clear and the weather is fine. It's warm without being hot, humid without being sticky. It's Friday. And here we are stuck on the wrong side of the glass in air conditioned boredom waiting for the quitting time whistle to blow.

This weekend will revolve around tomorrow afternoon's Rugby final. Should Australia win all will be right with the world. Should England win, well, I shudder to think. Those Poms know how to go on bleating well after they should stop: they all still talk about 1966 like it was yesterday. They can't get over that they built and then lost the greatest empire since Rome and that everyone is now better than them at sports "they" invented. It's a dark, dank, benighted country that has given the world little except a language. Even that has been taken by other countries and brought into the modern era while the English desperately cling to the notion that the "Queen's" version is the be-all. If that lady decorates like that I'm not speaking her language.

The English have given the world fish and chips, Eastenders and the Spice Girls. Their top pop star, Kylie Minogue, is an Australian. A favourite talk-show host, Clive James, is as Australian as they come as are Rolf Harris and Spike Milligan and hundreds more, and that's just in the world of entertainment. Most importantly if England suddenly disappeared tomorrow, would anyone notice or care? Yes, because suddenly the world we be free of whinging. Otherwise, I doubt it. No wonder so many every year try and emigrate, including to the bronzed Lucky Country. Their rugby is boring and unimaginative, relying almost solely on one team member's ability to kick. They are now a middling nation "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing" in the words of one of their 500 year old playwrights.

I could go on but I'm not wasting any more space on them. I will simply finish with this:

GO THE WALLABIES!!!

Helen's had a rough week but at least she won immunity in this edition of Survivor.
It will soon be time to vote someone off but let's face it, Helen's going to win no matter what happens.

Now I've discovered the why behind this morning's strange events. Hong Kong's fourth most popular paper, the unlinkable South China Morning Post, has finally put up it's article on the local blogging scene. Obviously the croc just isn't doing it for them anymore.

The whole article is in the extended entry but let's pull out the pertinent bits:

Simon, editor [editor? -ed.] of Simon World and the organiser of next Wednesday's Hong Kong Bloggers' Summit, as the blogging party of the year has been dubbed, [as far as I know, it's also the only one, but we'll take it] says he keeps his identity a secret to avoid trouble at his workplace. "While I don't really write anything that could cause any problems, I would rather my blog wasn't known about by everyone in the office," [ummm, actually half my readership is from my office] says the 30-year old Australian expatriate who works for a large financial institution. [because there are so many 30 year old expat Aussies working in financial firms that my identity is now safe.] "People have been sacked for what they put on their blogs."

Simon World is far removed from the irate world of Hemlock. Simon, one could imagine, is likely to be found watching the rugby down the Dickens Bar with a rowdy crowd of mates before going home to the wife. [Thank God that's how he imagined me. I don't even want to think what else he could have imagined] "I got into blogging because I was fed up with writing so many e-mails back to friends and family in Australia. It's more like an open letter to all my mates," he says. His party next week is likely to be full of surprises, if only because the people behind such blogs as the irreverent Gweilo Diaries, the ebullient Gekkeanna and the frenetic All Things Nekkid are so different. [no mention of Phil. He won't be happy.]

"I think that's one of the fascinating things about blogging," says Simon, whose affable online persona [not to be confused with my real life persona as a raving meglomaniac] suggests he'd not really get on too well with the seemingly neurotic Kay, who fills the pages of United Bingdom with young female angst. [well we will find out next week]

I'm flattered by the coverage. I think. Or not. The journo didn't distort what I said too much and I got a full column of coverage so I can't complain. Let's all watch to see the hits pile up.

UPDATE: if you are here courtesy of the New Times Article or Google search on Mu Zimei, please feel free to have a look around the rest of this site.

The full article is here:

It promises to be one of the oddest parties of the year. A dozen or so people with practically nothing in common and have never met before, will next week gather in a Lan Kwai Fong bar, along with a sprinkling of mystery gatecrashers. Ordinarily, such circumstances would make for a very dull party. But this one is bound to be different. While the guests don't know each other, most know everything about each other: their loves, hates, fears and quite often fantasies.

Douglas Crets, one of the few bloggers happy to reveal his full, real name, and host of the site Byoi in Hong Kong (www.writinglifeproject.blogs.com/byoi_in_hong_kong) is ambivalent about blogs' use as a forum for meeting friends. Instead, the 28-year old American-born freelance writer who lives in Ap Lei Chau, describes his blog as a work of literature in progress - "live writing" he calls it - in which an audience watches as he creates. "I suppose, in many ways, it's an exhibitionist thing," he says of his highbrow site. "We are all showing off in a way. But this is a new form of expression. It's much more dynamic and so much more addictive."

Strange events this morning. I awoke to find JC and PB by my bed, with autograph books in hand. Mrs M had laid on a full breakfast banquet. I made my way down to the Disneyland bus I noticed many bystanders pointing at me and whispering. There was a guard of honour as I boarded the bus. As the bus made its way down the hill the lights all suddenly turned to green and cars moved to the side of the road. Not just political candidates were waving to the bus. In Central the air was almost breathable, sans pollution. As I alighted from the bus there was a porter to help me with my bag. He lead me to my carriage to take me to the office. My co-workers are now all smiling adoringly at me and laughing at my lame jokes.

What is going on?

In case anyone's still wondering why there's a war on terror, 3 bombs have gone off in Istanbul just now including at the British consulate and the HQ of HSBC. No doubt more details to come but it amazes me there are still so many protesting about George W. and Tony Blair when things like this are still happening in the world. There's a friggin' war on, people. And these enemies aren't worried about Geneva Conventions and morality (courtesy of Gweilo Diaries). George, Tony and co. are standing up for people's rights to protest about what they are doing. The vitriol gets extreme but that there is vitriol at all is a testament to democracy at work.

And democracy doesn't protect itself by being passive.

If you are reading this, you must be extremely clever and good looking. It's just that kind of blog.

There's district council elections this weekend in HK. No one is quite sure what district councils actually do but that's besides the point. They provide an entry in the slimy world of politics and attract the usual rag-bag of time servers, activists, idealists and those aspiring to higher things (such as bribery or a cushy civil service appointment).

The campaigning seems to consist of two main elements: plenty of posters of the candidate, strung along the roadside to make the visual pollution worse than usual; and the candidates themselves, handing out leaflets that are promptly dropped on the ground. This morning as the Disneyland bus made it's turn onto Queens Road we were accosted by 3 seperate candidates, all waving to us from the same traffic island. Certainly by the quality of the waving I'd be voting for the one with the yellow sash. One of the others looked extremely grumpy and I'm not voting for anyone who isn't a morning person. What if there's some minor decision that needs to be made and it's 9am and he hasn't had his coffee? Such things cannot be trusted to such men. The other was partially obstructed from view by the other two, but he's obviously angling for the votes of those going the other way. So yellow sash it is.

The problem is I can't vote in the election.

I hate it when I've almost finished dialling an international phone number when I get the second last digit wrong.

I hate it when I've run for the bus only to see it driving away.

I hate that all my bills arrive daily but my pay is monthly.

I hate having to think of new things to put on the blog every day.

There's at least one person in the world today who could do with some cheering up. I'm officially boycotting a certain Swedish telecom company's mobile phone products and encourage others to trade in their phones named after Vikings for those made by the Finns, Japanese or Koreans.

Instead I offer this selection of news stories from around the world:

1. There's at least one Swedish company that doesn't suck: Swedes trust IKEA... more than their own government, politicians, media or trade unions, according to a new poll published Wednesday. Hang on a second, no humna can put together IKEA furniture, especially if you follow the cryptic instructions. They suck too.

2. Next Wednesday's HK Blogging night of nights would do well to challenge this record: A vodka-drinking competition in a southern Russian town ended in tragedy with the winner dead and several runners-up in intensive care. And if everyone gets hungry there's always some potato salad to chow down. What is it with Slavic nations and excess?

3. While on former Communist nations making a go of it in the realities of capitalism, there's this: Polish grannies who have swapped doilies for G-strings in a bid to save the ancient art of crochet are being swamped with orders from abroad. The Thais haven't been caught out either, with a tea-scented pantyliner.

Finally, it could be worse. You could get home to find out you've been left for Dracula: A young mother says her partner has dumped her to become a vampire. Or you could open the paper and discover Bill Clinton is reportedly set to become the face of a men's clothing brand based in China.

Just remember, Swedish telcos suck.

Just spoke with The Fong. It is all systems go for next Wednesday night, starting at 7:30pm. However I need some feedback.

I've told them we have 30-40 people coming. There's a minimum spend of HK$4,000 + 10% which should be OK so long as 30 people or so actually turn up. We can also get food platters at HK$120 + 10% per platter with various finger food. If we do all of this the upstairs area is ours.

The other alternative is we just all turn up there, stretch out and take over by force. Please let me know ASAP on (a) numbers (b) do we use force or book ahead?

From Madfish Willie and Susie there's Google Fight.

Today's results:
Simon World 3.59 million vs. Evil Glenn 164,000

Eat that, Puppy blender.

Good: 120 million vs. Evil: 11.8 million

Phew.

Yin: 981,000 vs. Yang: 7.06 million

D'oh!

May 7 (my brother's brithday): 13.3 million vs May 8 (my birthday): 13.1 million

That bites. But it leads me to a semi-interesting story...

My brother was rude enough to have a birthday exactly one day before mine. We are seperated by 1 year and 364 days (don't go quoting leap years on me people, there weren't any between our two birthdays). So this is very convenient right? Both birthdays together and all. Let me tell you it was and is not.

Every single year we had plenty of visitors over for my brother's birthday. He would be inundated with presents. He would receive many good wishes and way too much attention. And he would lap it up. In the meantime I got to watch. I got given my present with the same warning: "You're not to open these until tomorrow." I had to sit and spend agonising hours watching my brother play with whatever goodies he had received, while I anxiously glanced at my unopened pile and wondered if the contents would live up to my expectations. You see the bar had been raised: whatever my brother had received became the benchmark by which all my presents would be judged.

Eventually the long day would end. My birthday would start. My parents would make a big effort to be even handed. But they couldn't do it two days running. No one could. So my birthday was always the anti-climax. It was the cigarette after the one night stand - satisfying but somehow the best part has finished, never to return.

Being the only siblings we had we were at turns incredibly competitive and co-operative. Usually the competitiveness was played on in various sporting endevours, from backyard cricket to rock 'n' roll bed wrestling. Co-operation usually involved saying the other brother did whatever the parents were supscious of. But one thing above all others we competed on was famous events on our birthdates. Perhaps Jen could help, but generally it came down to VE day (the end of WW2) was May 8, and not much happened on May 7. Yet it never stopped endless discussions and to this day, should I find the TV stuck on a documentary, the mention of either of these dates elists and email immediately to my brother.

I'm not bitter about the birthday thing. My nervous tic that seems to come about every May 7 is nothing to worry about, or so the doctors say. Chalk that down as something that happens May 7. I've learned to internalise and repress. Just so you've be warned; May 7 each year is an interesting day for me.

Gambling is part of the life blood of Hong Kong and I've spoken about horse racing here before. Now Scott over at my regular read for sporting news and analysis is again warning on the dangers of spread betting. To some extent he's right. Spread betting is dangerous if you have no idea what it is. Also many object to betting full stop. If you understand what you are doing though, it can make sports that much more interesting.

The idea is simple. The traditional fixed odds bet says that if X wins, for every $1 you have wagered you will receive that $1 back plus $A. So when someone says this horse is at 4:1 (said as 4 to 1), that means for every $1 you wage, you get $5 back ($1 for the original wager and $4 for winning). For the mathematically inclined, odds of 4:1 say there is a 1/5th or 20% chance of that event happening. Fixed odds tend to work well when there is a single event with multiple contenstants, like horse racing.

But what if you are betting on a football game? Yes there are fixed odds depending on the relative abilities of the competitors. But most people can't be bothered with odds. They are tricky and are too much like 5th grade maths. Most people just want to bet $10 and either win it or lose it. A handicapping system of some kind needed to make such an even money bet. In a football game the easiest way to do this is to give the underdog team a head-start. These bonus points are called the line. For example, in this weekend's Rugby final, England are considered the favourites, so you can back Australia with a head start of 6 points. Again like all things there are some who will (mis-guidely) want to back the Poms instead. So a bookmaker steps in and makes a "market" on the line. The market might be England over Australia with +5 to +8. This means you can back England to win giving Australia 8 points head start or you can back Australia to win with 5 points head start. The difference is the spread, the bookmarkers profit margin. If lots of people start backing England to win at +8, the market will move, perhaps to +7/+10 and so on, until a market clearing equilibrium is reached.

These markets are always moving and trading. There are even some websites where people can trade spreads without the intervention of a middleman bookmaker. In other words it is exactly like trading shares. These prices move even during the games as they happen. Furthermore the bets can become more and more exotic, so for example you can bet on the total points in a game. Many betting houses have what they call "close-out" rules to prevent things getting too out of hand. If you are losing or winning to much, the betting shop will close out (settle) your bet at the market prevailing price at that time. These are called "stop loss" and "stop profit" levels.

So the end result is the downside and upside in spread betting is greater. However it is also much more flexible, offering a wide variety of things to bet on, and not just the result. Spread betting requires thorough analysis of potential profit and loss and it is always important to measure the maximum downside as well as upside.

The beauty of spread betting though is you can take bets off, at a profit or loss, before the event is decided. If you have a bet, once it's on, that's it. If you spread bet and the spread moves in your favour, then you can take off that bet and take your profit. Likewise if you change your mind and want to get out of a losing bet then you can do that too.

Spread betting is like playing in any market. It moves up and down and the possible gains or losses are not fixed. If you want certainty, you can bet fixed odds. You can only lose what you wager. If you want greater upside, then you risk for greater downside.

The most important rule of all though is to only bet what you can afford. Each bet should be considered as a likely loss and a win as a bonus. The trick is to try and find "value", where for whatever reason you think a particular bet is cheap or expensive. Again just like shares.

Betting adds new dimensions to sports, both good and bad. Money has always influenced sport and betting is a key part of that. However sports always remain different to normal commercial endevours for one simple reason: sports are about who wins the game, not who makes the most money. At least that's the idealistic view.

Here endeth the lesson.

Via Electric Venom I found this person striking back at spammers the best way: using commerce and the law. All I can say is read the whole thing.

One week to go to the big night: the first annual HK Blogger's Drinkfest gathering.

The venue will be The Fong in LKF. They don't know it yet - I can't seem to get through but will keep trying. I'm telling them we've got 40 people and I'll try and get the upstairs area for our "private party". 7:30pm start. No finish time.

Please watch this space for any updates. Happy to ehar any suggestions or ideas. I want it to all be very informal. Please refer to the earlier posts for the rules.

One idea worth pondering on the night is Ron's for a HK Blogger Association. It would be a world first, and I think if we adopt some appropriate local charity we can help bring blogging to the poor of HK. I like the idea of having some grouping which meets semi-regularly for alcohol discussions and raising money for some local charity or some such thing too. I'm hoping it becomes big enough that we can get Tung Che-Waa to appoint a crony as chairman. That would make it a well-respected HK institution.

On top of the normal enticements for Viagra, helping some Nigerians invest in real estate and getting cheap Human Growth Hormones, I am getting a new kind of spam:

English Rugby jokes. It is 10:27am and I have received 9 seperate emails containing jokes, none of which are original, even if they are still amusing. And it's only Wednesday. And I'm not including the various email sledges between various Aussie and English work mates.

I'll be glad when it's over so I can go back to the normal spam.

Played squash last night at HKCC and managed to find some winning form again. Then I discovered I was playing against an ex-military man from Sandhurst. I should've thrown a couple of games.

HK TV is generally pretty abysmal. We've got Cable TV which has frustratingly decided to start "freezing" at crucial parts of whatever show or game you watch. This will be fixed before the finals this weekend. The only thing worse than the shows are the advertisements. One particular favourite show of Mrs M is called Alias, a complicated spy/thriller that has too many plot twists but really is just an excuse to join together various stunts based around the quite yummy Jennifer Garner. The network has had a competition to find "look-alikes" of the main two characters. They announced the winners. The similarities are difficult to see. I would go as far as saying they are as similar as JC is to her idol, Barbie. I now regret not entering as I stood a good chance of looking like the chisel-jawed all-American leading man. Hehehe.

Jacques Chirac has rightly responded to growing anti-semitism in France by convening a special cabinet meeting and so on. But one part of his post-meeting press conference caught the eye:

"When a Jew is attacked in France, it is an attack on the whole of France," the president told journalists after the meeting.

"For centuries and centuries our fellow citizens of Jewish faith have been at home in France, as much as any other French man or woman. Anti-Semitism fully contradicts the values on which our country is built," he said.

Let's review a little, shall we? Alfred Dreyfuss in the 1890s. The Vichy regime from 1940-44. General intellectual anti-semitism.

Not really a great track record. Certainly not "centuries and centuries" worth.

Causing much merriment in Hong Kong at the moment is a crocodile roaming around a river in Yeun Long. Ron at See Lai has some photos from his vigil. It's easy to see why it's taking the guy a few days to get the croc.

But there's more. The South China Morning Post paid for John Lever to come over from Australia to get this croc. They don't want him to catch it on the first day. They've been able to milk this little story for all it's worth for the last three days, with no end in sight: For the third morning running, Australian crocodile expert John Lever came close to catching the Yuen Long crocodile yesterday but was thwarted by the wily reptile.

They want their money's worth. They've got photos, interviews, crowd reports. The SCMP has been able to fill page after page so that it's become second nature. I can picture the daily editorial meetings now: "Right, croc on page one and three of City, plus let's bang a few photos and a crappy graphic. And don't you let that interloper from Down Under catch the thing for at least a week! Right, now news section..."

There will be a day or two extra copy once they catch the thing. No doubt the Cantonese papers will have graphic photos of the innards of the vile reptile. Really the poor thing deserves sympathy for being able to survive so long in such conditions.

And just wait a couple of weeks until the "Sha Tin Kangaroo" is on the loose.

Hong Kong has about 3 mobile phones per person. There is an ongoing race to find the latest and greatest in mobile phone technology, whether it be cameras, looks or whatever.

So I'm waiting in a lobby today and suddenly I hear the ocean rushing in. I look around. No tsunami heading my way. But then there it is again. Yes, it's one of those polyphonic rings of a tidal wave about to hit. This guy's phone proceeded to flash every colour of the rainbow and I thought it was about to short circuit. A rapid fire conversation ensued. Finishing his call, he closed the phone and it chirped like a cicada with another flash of light to finish. The man then casually waited for the lift to arrive as if nothing had happened.

In the meantime I was trying to work out what had just happened. It's just a friggin' phone, after all. But now I think I'm blind and deaf. Plus I keep thinking there's a tidal wave coming my way. At least it's not Brittney Spears.

JC has been accepted into a top-notch private school here for next year, starting September 2004. We like to think it is because of her intellectual prowess, ballet skills and her long hair. The reality is it is about money.

Like many things in Hong Kong money talks, loudly. The school system is no exception. This particular school has a long waiting list: there are 200 names for 60 places for the entry class of 2004/5. Given we only just got around to getting JC's name on the list, we could be forgiven for feeling a little despondant on her chances of getting in. But nothing is that simple here.

All private schools (and clubs) work on a system of debentures. These are large payments made as a bond for the time the student is at the school. Effectively they are interest free loans and give the school working capital at cheap rates. There are two kinds of debenture. There are the individual and the corporate. The individual ones are about 1/4 of the cost of the corporate ones. So now the school has an incentive: economically they want as many corporate debenture students as possible. The fees are the same after that and are horrendously high. But getting into the school in the first place depends on these debentures. This particular school has rules, saying only 1/2 the students can be on corporate debentures. Usually corporate debentures are funded by companies covering their expat employees. The other side of all of this is if you have a corporate debenture you can skip the waiting list. So long as out of the 60 places in the entry class there are less than 30 taken by corporate debenture kids, then automatically my child is moved into the class.

This leads to a conflict. Of course I want my girls to get the best possible education. But effectively we are the beneficiaries of an injustice. Why should I be able to get my girl into school faster than someone who's had a name down since birth? I just happen to be lucky enough that my employer covers the cost for me. No, I won't say no to the place on some principle. That's the way the cards are dealt and that's it. But it won't stop me from feeling typical middle-class angst about it.

What it does lead to is an interesting question. Is it right to take advantage of a situation, even where it involves an injustice or a wrong? Especially if the situation has arisen due to factors outside of one's control? The short answer, in this case, is yes. But I am sure that it is not always the case.

Another philosphical conundrum brought to you by Hong Kong's schooling system.

It's tax time in HK. The place is well known for its low (16%) personal income tax rate. What's less well known is out of a working population of 3.5 million people, only about 1.25 million pay any tax at all. At the same time the Government has had yawning deficits. Worst of all is one of the solutions was to impose a tax on the helpers, who earn about US$500 a month. This is instead of expanding the tax base by introducing a sales tax, or introducing a second tier of say 25% income tax for earnings above a high level. Even at 25% the level is low compared to most other countries. Or lower the threshold where tax starts to get paid to include more people. It's not rocket science.

Yet there is remarkably little debate on this. Everyone in HK seems content to run down the fiscal reserves instead. The Government is even reluctant to issue bonds to finance infrastructure building. The reality is HK cannot live beyond it's means forever and eventually these things will change.

A prayer for parents to offer up as need be:

O Lord, let me give thanks to the makers of all Toy Story movies and water-based paint. Please give me strength not to throttle my children at 5:45am when they decided to start their shout-a-thon for the day. Yeah verily I walk in the valley of poo-poo, I shall not yield to the nausea in my stomach. May my earnings be bountiful so that I can pay for the damage they causeth and allow them to indulge their whims. If it be thy will, please stop producing Barbie merchandise and movies, so that I can recover some small patch of my home to call my own. Giveth me the will not to be jealous of the fun and care-free life they lead. Give me the drive to go to work even when they beg me to stay home. Let me always be able to look at them and smile, even when they are teenagers who say they hate me. Protect them from evil and especially from Mattel and Disney. Lord, let them always think I have all the answers and I can do no wrong. Let me resist the temptation to sell them for a box of oranges and a Playstation. May I never be embarassed by them or have to apologise for them in a public place. Should it be thy will at least allow one of them to become a child movie star who will give all their earnings to me. From dust their toys were made and to dust they will quickly return once they play with them. If my right hand forgets its skill, allow them to be there to operate the TV for me. Allow me to forget those pre-child days of lazy mornings and late nights, of spontaneous rendezvous and careless spending. Let them always know I am there for them, except if they want money or the car keys. May they one day learn the meaning of pain and love, hapiness and sadness, light and dark, good and evil, Abbott and Costello, and may they learn the differences too. I will always learn from them and love them except between midnight and 6am.

All this I wish and pray for, my Lord. Please, I beseech thee.

You'll notice the rolling text at the top of the blog has gone. Why? Because of this.

And I'm Jewish. Just covering my bets.

I sit down to spend my 5 minutes skimming the Sunday China Post (unlinkable, but be grateful for that). So imagine you read a headline like this:

All Chinese nationals to be banned from voting.

The outrage would be instant and huge. Yet that was yesterday's headline in reverse. All non-Chinese national residents are potentially going to be barred from voting if universal sufferage is introduced for elections post-2007. Staggering and yet not shocking.

The second one was that Harbour Fest's final accounts are in. It turns out the HK taxpayer paid for exactly 2/3s of the total budget with the rest from ticket sales. Poor sponsorship was blamed. The end result is apparently a video that will be used to sell HK to the world. I am looking forward to the AmCham survey next year measuring the change in tourism due to watching the Harbour Fest video. Maybe it will be from those coming to gaze at such a subsidy.

UPDATE: Phil goes into the voting scandal too.

I am trying to find Waltzing Matilda as a ringtone to add to my phone in order to annoy my workmates as much as possible this week. By Friday I imagine much of my personal wealth will be wagered backing Australia against England.

The weekend was the usual mix of birthday parties, swimming and playgrounds. This time though it was punctuated with two visits to the couch to watch two very solid games of Rugby. Mrs M and JC spent Saturday evening in the bowels of Admirality finding a ballet costume and consuming junk food. They were successful in both missions.

However the crux of this post is the events of Saturday afternoon. One of the few things I like to think I excel at is the game of squash. I have been playing since I was a young lad, following my Dad down to the courts and having a muck around. I never really played much competition but have been fairly consistent in playing socially for years.

Additionally a key part of many expats lives in HK is clubs. These are "havens" from real HK, where expats can sit with each other and congratulate themselves on their good fortune. These places have great facilities like swimming pools, playgrounds, restaurants and the like. They provide a social outlet as well as somewhere to go on the weekends outside the apartment complex. They are also getting harder to join. Many companies are like my own and are restricting which staff members can take up club memberships. Joining on a personal basis is possible but there are wait lists and the costs can be prohibitive. This combined with a long term decline in HK as a centre for expats (in step with its inevitable decline as a entry to China) means clubs face dwindling membership.

Nevertheless some of these clubs offer cheaper ways to skip the queues and pay discounted entry fees. The way to do this is to join as a sporting member: you play competition for the club and they rush you in. So Saturday afternoon I rocked up to this particular club to try out for the squash team. The captain had already warned me that to get the sporting membership now I needed to be in the top 4 teams, as they had too many in the past who snuck in under this category of membership. I started playing one guy who was good. I took a few points, but then he proceeded to teach me a lesson. A little crestfallen, I thought he must be top grade. I played another guy, who was over 50 and had the most unusual style I had ever seen. This time it was more even but I still went down. Next was a local guy who had lived in Sydney once. We played and it turns out his "thing" is to keep the ball high the whole time. This meant my vision was partially impared at the end of it by the glare of the lights on the roof of the court. Of course I lost but it was close. Finally I played the captain. He was good. And he's a police officer in his day job so I couldn't get too carried away with the sledging. Needless to say he beat me, although I felt good taking a few points off him each set. Inevitably thought there was the "chat": the basica theme of which was go away and practice and come back in a few months.

D'oh! I returned home crestfallen. Mrs M was there to make things better. Her words of "Never mind, letting down the family like that isn't the worst thing you've ever done" would normally have me smiling. Instead I did what any male in such a situation would do - I slumped on the couch and waited for my rugby team to lift my mood.

That they did. I like to think my little sacrifice may have been a small part of the Wallabies win. That's how my fragile ego is dealing with it.

The Wallabies have proven everyone (including myself) wrong by beating the dastardly Kiwis tonight in the semi-final. Winning next week would also be great, but at least we beat the Kiwis. The Wallabies played like world champs and this time next week they will be. It is a little odd though as I chose to stay at home to watch it, too scared of the aftermath if we lost. PB's in bed and Mrs and JC are out shopping so I find myself sharing my happiness with my blog. That's just sad.

Of course I had money on it. With Australia as underdogs I find myself handily richer plus full of joy. It makes up for a lousy afternoon but that has to wait for Monday's weekend report.

Go France (yes, I've got $ on them too) tomorrow.

I'm tired. It's been busy this week. The big boss was here. We've had to think and concerntrate. I'm not sure I can cope with more. On top of that, my blog seems to be having problems when viewed in Mozilla. I don't know why. I've taken off the scrolling text to see if that's the culprit. Oh, and the comments don't remember anyone, but that's much like me anyway.

So I'm going home. As usual a full weekend report Monday. In the meatime:

GO THE WALLABIES!!!!!!

I came up with the idea of Office Survivor on Monday and on reflection think it's a pretty funny idea.
I'm very even-handed like that.

You can play in your home too. Simply think of each individual in the home as a seperate team. Then set each of them tasks. For example in my case I would set PB the task of sleeping in, JC the task of sleeping in and Mrs M the task of...well, that's not for here. Whomever completes the task best wins immunity. That means they do not have to bring me beer and food while I watch the Wallabies pulverise New Zealand in this weekend's Rugby World Cup semi-final. The two losers of course will be expected to provide top service. Yes, it's a prestigious prize. If there are others out there wanting to compete I'm sure I can find other appropriate tasks, such as collecting money to fund my new LCD TV.

Right, this joke has been milked almost completely dry by me. Please have a go at developing it further. Let's not waste the precious gifts Reality TV have given us.

Wait until my next one: Joe Millionaire at home. This is where your spouse discovers you are not a multi-millionaire romantic sophisticate, but rather a slob who is bent on watching rugby to exclusion of all else this weekend. Heh. Indeed.

Phil reminded me of another Alliance duty, voting in the showcase. Fully agree with his choice which is from Jeff in Korea titled "A Blessing and a Curse". It's about racism in Korea and without a doubt similar things happen here in HK.

Plus the showcase has become a poor excuse for political discourse ranting. Top marks to NZ Bear for breaking out a non-political side so that those 5 billion people not in the USA can also have something interesting to read.

It's lunchtime so between slurps of curry I'll update what needs updating and come back later if I get some time.

First some personal history. For no real reason I early on earned a reputation in my family as pretty useless with my hands. Standard jokes followed the "study hard so you can afford to hire plumbers/electricians/tradesmen" line. I agree that I can't construct a house from scratch. I do not have that background. But general around the home stuff I hold my own as a DIY handyman.

So yesterday the hot water went out at Disneyland manor. I returned home to discover the PB had a bath in the kitchen sink and JC skipped the whole thing. More importantly I was facing shaving without hot water. For the lady folk, that's not a pleasant experience. But sure enough, Handy Simon fixed the problem. Found the fuse box, nicely nestled in the storage closet behind mounds of nappy boxes and assorted out-of-use baby equipment. Found the problem, sorted it out, restored order to the universe.

So Paul, Ma, Pa, there you go. I did it. No tradesman. No electrician. Now I've just got to change 3 lightglobes and I'm done.

I hate busy days. Especially when I've lots to say. I'm cancelling my Cantonese lesson and will use lunchtime to catch up.
You've gotta prioritise sometimes. In the meantime just watch the text at the top go 'round and 'round.

Just been doing some behind the scenes fixing up and I need to thank a few people for their help. I've deleted the "Search" function from the toolbar. That was really useless. I'm sorely tempted to delete the calendar too, but it stays until I'm sure. If anyone actually uses it please let me know.

Thanks to Madfish Willie I've got the funky new rolling text at the top. Completely useless but hopefully it will force everyone to read down the blog a little so it moves off the screen. Thanks.

As usual Pixy, while suffering computer meltdown, has been a great help as has Jen and Susie and Daniel. Not to mention Jim.

Thanks all.

The idea that's taken over HK blogger-dom seems a goer. OK, it hasn't taken over but there seems enough interest to make it official. We've even spawned imitiations in Shanghai and Beijing (I couldn't find the link - I think it was Phil.) Conrad has seen into the future and summarised the night already, but let's see if we can defy our respective stereotypes. At worst it will give us all some blog fodder for a while.

OFFICIAL DATE: Wednesday, 26th November.
LOCATION: TBA*
SPONSORED BY: AmCham and Mike Rowse. Yes, I've negotiated HK$100 million from the HK Government to ensure we can enjoy our night of nights. I expect no panning of this good use of taxpayer money. It's to help put HK Blogging back on the map after SARS. Yes, SARS was months ago. That's beside the point.

* The venue will be in LKF. Given the unknowable nature of the numbers attending I think Conrad's suggestion of Fong's is as good as any. If we think the group will be upwards of 15 I can ring and go for the upstairs as a private party. I'll just tell them we've got 50 coming. Seriously some idea of numbers would be good (especially if you haven't already said something in the last comments).

It seems UK Joe has Conrad intrigued enough to come. We just need to hook Hemlock and we're there. I suggest we bring the Yuen Long crocodile to the night.

This should be plenty of notice; please keep spreading the word. Readers and out-of-towners are especially welcome. Closer to the date I'll let you know how to spot me. I'll likely be the one with the tour group flag saying "HK Bloggers have a life".

Now to the business side of the night.

I am laying down a few of rules:

1. Some people choose to blog anonymously. They may come to the night but say they are just a reader of blogs or some such. Everyone has to respect that. I'm not going so far as to ban questions but please don't push someone if they don't want to talk about something. Likewise no photos without permission of those in the shot.
2. I'm hoping this diverse gathering can lead to a free flowing exchange of information, stories and more. The only thing the group has in common is blogging but there are many other things in the world to talk about. I will provide a list at no extra cost.
3. I unashamedly reserve the right to change the details and rules.
4. I unashamedly reserve the right to be the final arbiter of all disputes on the night. If it's your shout, then it's your shout. Likewise if someone's getting out of hand I will not hestitate to demand they buy everyone drinks before I put them in a cab. I will be selecting random destinations for those cabs, only bounded by the borders of Hong Kong SAR.

Like all HK nights this will no doubt end with good stories and many establishments being visited. Feel free to buy your favourite bloggers lots of drinks.

I'm excited.

I've been slack in keeping up with my Alliance duties, but being Vetrans Day on Tuesday and all I think it's time to give a little back. The assignment is to write Evil Glenn's Personals Ad. Here it goes:

Single White puppy blender seeks mate to rule the blogosphere. Must be adept at using single words after cutting and pasting huge chunks of text from other blogs or web pages. Otherwise should enjoy single sentence musings that make little sense and often omit verbs. Other hobbies include planning world domination, avoiding Hong Kong blogs and constant links to other posts at my other sites. No need to phone or link. I'll find you. Actually don't bother replying to this ad, as I have already found my perfect mate. ME! Heh. Indeed.

It's slightly ridiculous that it has taken a week and the deft hand of the South China Morning Post to get someone up to sort out the walking handbag that is the Yuen Long crocodile. Hemlock has a good post summarising the Aussie character who will tame this wild beast, plus how he will do it. It almost sounds like Hemlock has admiration for Aussies. Could it be so?

It's time to vote in the first Survivor immunity challenge.

The assignment was to beg Rachel Lucas to return to blogging. I never read Rachel Lucas and to be honest don't really get what all the fuss is about. Someone decides they don't want to blog anymore, then leave them be. It's pretty simple.

Reading the entries it's clear that Entry 5 is the one most of my wavelength and that's my vote. Do yourself a favour and have a look at them all. If you don't have time, just go and vote for Entry 5 anyway.

As Chicago Democrats say: vote early, vote often.

Today's SCMP has two gems in its pages today. It remains unlinkable unless you are as unfortunate as me and fell for a subscription. Thus the cut and paste will be deployed:

1. At least 90,000 Hong Kong residents have just three days to get a new "smart" identity card or face a $5,000 fine...If they were all fined $5,000, the government would have $450 million - enough to fund four more Harbour Fests.

Often journalists try and put into context what a large amount of money would translate into in terms of schools, hospitals, police, whatever. In this case, the SCMP points out we could fund more than 4 more Harbour Fests. I almost spat my corn flakes across the table as I chortled with merriment at this one.

2. The government has given the clearest signal yet that the Basic Law allows the chief executive election in 2007 to be conducted by universal suffrage if necessary. But Secretary for Constitutional Affairs Stephen Lam Sui-lung stopped short of making any promises during a three-hour Legco debate on democracy last night.

Article 45 of the Basic Law includes the sentence The ultimate aim is the selection of the Chief Executive by universal suffrage upon nomination by a broadly representative nominating committee in accordance with democratic procedures. There's other amusing bits in the Basic Law but that's for another day. This text was agreed between to Poms and Chinese when the Poms realised they wanted democracy in HK, about 5 years before they had to hand it back. There is an Annexe that further discusses the Chief's election, but the subtext is whether there should be elections IN 2007 or AFTER 2007. Just another bit of creeping democracy in HK. This is why China is so keen to keep HK as a seperate entity with the "two systems, one country" slogan.

Lots to catch up on the blog today. Obviously the boss has moved on to warmer climates so all going well there should be a steady stream of dross to keep you occupied.

Yesterday was not just busy because the boss was here. But it certainly didn't hurt. We headed to the American Club for lunch. This is on the top floor of an office block in Central. The words "all-you-can-eat buffet" were uttered, and as we padded across the deep plush pile carpet I realised this was going to be good. And so it was. This was amongst the busiest of eateries that I have been to so far in HK and must have had its fair share of the great and good of this city.

The afternoon passed mostly in a discussion with the boss on the merits of the various beaches and eateries of Sydney. Needless to say his stop in HK is a mere way-station on the way to my homeland. The boss has a rigorous schedule of swimming, eating, sand and surf to endure before he even reaches the weekend of rugby. It's a tough job. But I digress. We headed to Shu Hu Ju for dinner, which does Northern Chinese food and can only be described as yum. The place is at the top of Peel St., which is a 45 degree angled mountain climb above the rest of the bars of Soho. Still the climb was well worth it and we were joined by Mrs M, who as usual spun her womanly charms on the boss. I should avoid a lay-off in the next round of redundancies now.

[Warning: pet update] Misti the wonder dog is not so wonder dog at the moment. Mrs M took her to the vet yesterday and it turns out she has 3 different things wrong with her. She is getting the best of care. I wonder if my work health insurance will pay out on the bills though? If I can just find a way to alter the word Vetinary to something like Palliative I might be OK.

Work's busy, the boss is here, it's getting cold outside and my brain aches. Not in that order either. No time for blogging, or checking the news or anything.

Instead I offer this little rant.

Big boss being in town meant it was a big dinner last night. Went to an Italian place called Vabene in Lan Kwai Fong. Small place with a solid wine list and decent Italian food. The service was quick for a restaurant of this calibre. The table adjacent to us turned over three times in the space of 2 hours. Like all these places everyone was crammed in, the floors are tiled and it's impossible to hear the people next to you without shouting like an old maid on the wrong bus.

Finished dinner and decided it best we sample various establishments in LKF. For those of you not from HK this area is three blocks of bars and eateries. This is the respectable night life area, where out-of-towners and Central wage slaves can mingle and drink in peace at exorbitant prices. The bars all have different themes but inevitably suffer from a "sameness", with the wait staff generally waif-like Filipinas, bajunga-bajunga music at 180 decibels and plasma screens broadcasting sports games.

Last night was busy in LKF as there seems to be yet another big convention here. There is not a spare hotel room in the city and these convention types stand out as they stroll around the middle of the streets of LKF. We sat in Agave sipping cerveza and enjoying the cooler Hong Kong weather. Sitting there we noticed we were exhibit 4 in the various mainland tours that were walking around. These groups are obviously told if they come to Hong Kong they can "glimpse Gweilos in their natural habitat, enjoying some of their favourite pastimes." It is strange being stared at but it worked both ways. We stared at them, they at us. They moved on up the hill to whatever the next stop was on the tour. We got another round of beer.

Everyone was happy.

I've been tweaking the ol' Blog roll to try and get some semblence of order and logic to it all. I've added another category of Hong Kong blogs, shamelessly stolen from Hemlock's guide.

Now's as good a time as any to spell out my blog roll "policy". If you link to me, email me and let me know. I do not guarantee that I'll add your blog to my roll. What I guarantee is I will go and read your blog and if it's something I can see myself going back to I'll add it. If not, I bookmark it and add it to my Favourites instead. My policy is the blogs in these rolls are ones that I like to read at least semi-regularly. There are not enough hours in the day to read them all. But these are the ones I find interesting or funny or both. I don't really see the point in having a roll with hundreds of blogs on it. I've listed the Alliance members below everything else there, and of course there's the MuNu roll (and it's above the line).

I want to keep the blogroll down to a manageable level, but inevitably it will grow bigger as the blogosphere does. From time to time I'll remove or add blogs to the roll. Usually this is done with a minimum of fanfare as it's mostly there for my use anyway.

So that's it then. It's blogs I like, blogs I have a link to (no, not the internet kind of link, the normal kind) or blogs that are interesting. It's my blog and it's my roll.

Went to City Hall for a massive dim sum lunch. We ate a lot of food. A lot. Now everyone is fighting the afternoon snooze.

Meanwhile should the gender wars ever be resolved in favour of females here's a few changes we're likely to see:

No doubt many of you read various blogs during the day and night and wonder. How do they do it? How can so many different people come up with so many different things to say? Daily. Except weekends. To answer this I present "A day in the life of a blogger", a semi-non-autobiographical description of the tortured creative process involved in pumping out yet more cr@p onto the internet.

Eyes open. Quickly scan the bedroom. Alive? Check. In same bed as went to sleep in? Check. Same person next to me as expected? Check. So far so good. Another scan of the bedroom. Anything worthy of memorising for the blog today? Negative. D'oh! Wait by the front door for the thud of the South China Morning Post. Nothing. Oh my God, what am I going to do? The SCMP is the best source of daily Hong Kong blogging. There's always something that can be spun into some kind of witty aside on life in the city. Right, I know, go over to the window. Stare. Wait for blinding inspiration, then realise I'd better start getting ready for work. Was that the thud I've been waiting for? Furtively open the door, only to see red welcome mat and nothing else. Make some cereal. Could I blog about my cereal today? That would be an all time low. Maybe how the blog has taken over my life? Hmmm, file that in the rainy day ideas pile.

Sit scooping my special breakfast mix into my mouth. Finally the SCMP arrives. Eagerly open it and read each story. Is this the one? Will this be my blogging fodder today? Will Phil or Conrad beat me to the punch? Or worse, post the same story with something funnier/smarter/more incisive to say? Probably. Try and remember the story AND my insightful take on it while putting in videos to keep JC occupied and from waking PB. Realise I can't remember what day it is, let alone an article on Chinese manufacturing.

Check my emails. Any comments? Any links or trackbacks? Anything? A few, good, I'm not alone. But still a blank on the blog topic. Hopefully I can scum off the back of some other blogger's postings today. Or use the Munu list as there's always something good in there.

Get on the bus down the hill to work. Eye on the passing landscape of Hong Kong, wondering what can I say about this that hasn't already been said? Damn my uncreative mind. The walk to work is full of the usual faces and scenes, nothing there. Sh!t. Get into work. Plough through the usual barrage of emails and spam. Better put something on the flippin' blog quick. My 3 readers might desert me. They expect regular postings. They also expect good postings, but they'll have to make do. Right. There, I've told them how JC enjoyed her ballet class yesterday. That'll hold 'em for a while. Check back to the blog: oh my God, the formatting is all wrong. Fix it up. Tweak the blog some more. Notice I use a lot of contractions and break many grammar rules. That's bad English. Probably shouldn't point that out.

What next? It's half way through the day and still just a bit of blog filler. I need something. Maybe I'll make something up? No, I know, I'll go into faux-philosophy so I look deep and add to the blog's gravitas. Go through the blogroll again. Check on my stats and Ecosystem standing. Need to keep pretending hits don't matter. No, I don't suffer from blogger insecurity syndrome (BIS); I don't need to have lots of hits and links to re-affirm the worth of this whole thing. No I don't. No I don't. Keep repeating this mantra until I almost believe it.

Notice the whole day has gone and it's time to go home. Write down the hits for the day. Make notes of things to blog about tomorrow. They always seem rather pathetic the next day, but nevertheless I've got to try. Get home and realise I've spent the day looking at everything with one eye on it's blogging potential. Decide it's time to relax. Realise this might be something worth blogging about: how blogging forces me to observe. That's not such a bad thing. It doesn't take up much time. I seem to have found a niche. I get good comments and obviously have some of the best readers on the web. Start to feel good about the whole thing.

But what will I blog about tomorrow?

Likely a quiet day here at work with a holiday in the US making for little in the way of activity. As a diversion the boss is in town from New York. Thus today will entail a big lunch, a big dinner, a big night out and another very quiet day tomorrow.

We had the very big boss in town yesterday and last night we had a 45 minute session. This was done under completely false pretences. Originally we were told there were cocktails in the conference room. The whole talk finished and I eagerly looked to the door, waiting for the trays of daquiris to be brought forth. Unfortunately it was not to be - instead the door was being held wide open and we were being hearded back through it.

There must be a law against inviting people to a cocktail party and not providing drinks. It's just not right.

You can tell a writer is getting lazy when suddenly they change from writing in one person or tense to another. Here I go then.

Simon has had an idea. With the rapid approach of the festive season (Chunukah, possibly also Christmas) I think it is time to organise a Hong Kong blogging community piss up get together. I think it needs to be in the next few weeks. I suggest a date such as Wednesday, November 26th (as the following day is US Thanksgiving it means Simon's work will be quiet) although this is open to negotiation. Venue to be decided.

Participation open to all HK bloggers and readers and those passing through. That way those who wish to remain annonymous can come along and pretend they are Bruce instead of Shaky Kaiser. I'm using Hemlock's guide for the list as it stands, but anyone else is welcome to join in too.

Invitee blogs:
Hemlock
Gwielo Diaries
Shaky Kaiser
Flying Chair
Batgung
BWG
Misohoni
See Lai
Glutter
Byoi
UKJoe
Madame Shutterfly
Nekkid Ben
Eyal
GekkaNNa

Plus any reads of these blogs and any bloggers passing through Hong Kong at this time and of course all the readers.

Please let Simon know in the comments if this is a goer. Also please pass the word and we can make it happen. At worst it will give us all plenty of blogging material apart from the SCMP.

The approach of Survivor has lead my train of thought on a quiet day at work to this conclusion: Survivor is a game played in offices around the world every day.

The rage these days is for everyone to work in teams. Usually these teams are set impossible challenges by their boss. And usually these tasks are given to at least two teams (within the one company). The winners get "immunity" i.e. they are not next month's downsizing fodder. The losers then spend the next few weeks quietly trying to assissinate every other team member's character in the eyes of the jury. Slowly but surely this process continues until there's only one person left. That person becomes the new boss and the game begins again.

There are differences too where this allegory falls down. For example usually in Office Survivor the tasks set are vague, immeasurable, purposeless and often indefinable. The rules change mid-game but the contestants aren't told the new ones. Indeed the challenges change mid-game too. The winners are not necessarily the best players or even the best at the game. And once you've won you get to play the whole game again anyway.

There's probably a lot more to this idea but I can't be bothered thinking it through any further. Nevertheless you get the drift.

So I've made it to 7 years at my company. As a reward I get to choose between two items. Click the link below to take a look.

Any thoughts?

The clock

The mouse

Finally the players have been announced for the Survivor Blog edition. Not being one of them I can now do two things:

1. Think of diabolical challenges for the contestants.
2. Cast aspertions on the players' sanity, retaining my dignity and generally being cynical about it all in a smugly superior kind of way.

Given the preponderance of Munuvians playing (three), plus the whole thing being run by one...I just hope the MuNu bond is strong enough to survive this reality TV format.

Looks like I am going to be the second man in China to make it into space. Fellow Munu-nik Rocket Jones is going to put a mini-ballistic missle or some such into orbit next Saturday.

I knew blogging would take me far, but I didn't realise quite how far.

The weekend started much the same way it finished: with constant gossip about the Disneyland murder. Nothing gets the chattering classes going more than something so horrid on their (our?) own doorstep. This story will run for weeks now because these kind of things just don't happen to gweilos in this town. Sure there are plenty of domestic disputes each week and some end up in similarly tragic circumstances, but that's for the great masses, not the gweilos.

Anyway, enough of that. Friday night had dinner at home with Mrs M catching up on the myriad of events and rumours swirling around the complex. Our helper, as expected, knew more than the newspapers and radio anyway.

Saturday turned into one of those rare beasts: a (practically) kid-free day. I slept in. Well, sleeping in after a manner. Sleeping in meant having JC come and join us in bed about 6am for an hour while she watches videos, gulps down her milk disturbingly fast and plays hide and seek under the covers, inevitably letting any remanants of warm air being careless fluffed away for her entertainment. After that I admit it became a blur as I dozed and next I knew it was 9am. Still I'll take it. JC had another birthday party to attend so Mrs M took her. It being a miserable and dreary Hong Kong day I did what any sane parent would do. I asked Jackie to take PB to the playroom. Suddenly I experienced that very rarest of feelings: complete silence. I stared at Misti for a minute and she at me. Niether of us were quite sure what to do. She realised there were likely to be no food scraps on offer for a while so she promptly settled into her bed for a nap. That left me. I took my time doing not very much at all. I will not lie: I did sneak a glance at the Survivor website to see if I had made the cut, but nothing.

Saturday also saw the start of the fog. Being a little way up in altitude in Hong Kong means you spend a large amount of time mired in fog. Thick fog. This weekend's was only mild as you could see about 100 metres (look it up my non-metric friends). When it's bad you can see a metre or two. Windows become like mirrors. It's all very odd because everyone still drives like there's perfect visibility. Saturday afternoon I donned my Wallaby jersey and joined some friends at the Hong Kong Cricket Club for an afternoon of rugby. There were about 100 people in the bar of the HKCC and the only Chinese were the bar staff. The place feels like a typical English pub which the weather helped in setting the atmosphere. Only thing was the beer was cold, which helped matters immesurably. The results went the right way and I returned home to join Mrs M in a chick flick called Sweet Home Alambama. Very silly movie with poor plot and character development, but Mrs M enjoyed it and I hadn't spent more than 10 minutes with the kids all day so who was I to complain? To be honest the whole day virtually felt like I was back in bachelorhood. To be even more honest I did not enjoy it as much as I thought I would. I missed the girls and the noise and mayhem that is daily life with kids. Strange.

Sunday the weather was still dreary and wet, which in HK for families means there's not much to do. Breakfast was pancakes, prepared by JC with a little help from Mrs M. JC and PB both decided they didn't want them, leaving plenty for us to enjoy. Next we headed to the indoor swimming pool for an hour of trying not to drown the girls and then we hit the supermarket. By then it was lunchtime and schluff time, which I participated in eagerly. Doing nothing makes one very tired. JC woke first and Mrs M got her painting with new water based paints. The results were superb examples of what one day will be called her "blue mixed with every colour in the palette" period. Once PB woke we made popcorn and mooched around for a while. We were joined by some friends for an early dinner where we gave the new BBQ another whirl. An excellent festival of dead animals resulted. For some reason JC decided she wanted to eat dinner in the complete nude, in front of our guests. Why is it that kids decide to act all weird only when other adults are around. PB, whom normally giggles her way around the flat, spent most of the evening before dinner demonstrating her dark side. It turns out she was hungry, which is amazing given she had polished off a whole batch of popcorn less than an hour before. Girls in bed we enjoyed a pleasant meal and conversation. Our guests had come to take back the fish we had been minding, so suddenly the house has 3 fewer living creatures in it.

Of course the Sunday night dinner conversation again revolved around the murder, as did Saturday's conversation at the HKCC. It must be big because no-one has been talking about the Rolling Stones performances to close out the taxpayer hole known as Harbour Fest. Perhaps it is best that the whole sorry episode merely fades out, with people distracted by something else.

This week will be interesting at work. Everyone senior manager in the region is descending on HK because the ultra big boss from New York is in town for a day or two. This allows everyone to come and pay appropriate homeage and means us worker drones need to be seen to be busy at all times. So if blogging this week suddenly diverts into deep analysis of currency trends or potential interest rate movements, you've been warned.

Kindly Jen has posted the long-awaited You Asked, Simon Answers. I heartily recommend a visit and a laugh at my expense.

Additionally this weekend sees the begining of the serious side of the Rugby World Cup and of course yours truely has several bets to keep it interesting. I'm backing the Frogs at +11 over the Irish and I'm backing the Kiwis at +14 over the Ya-Yas. I'm backing the French and Kiwis. I really must go have a lie down now. This represents everything that an Australian should be against.

Let's hope the Wallabies crush the Scots into the ground. Making the semis is about as far as I expected the Aussies to get; anything else is a bonus. And while on bonuses, the ultra big big big boss is in town next week, along with every big wig in the region. Could put some pressure on the ol' blogging...everyone will be too busy looking really busy.

I have previous stared at my blogging navel in contemplation of the world of blogging. However something has happened today that has caused me to reflect and think some more about blogging and in particular this blog.

What is a blog for? It really is an unanswerable and probably useless quesiton. Whatever the writer intends for a blog to be is irrelevant to what it becomes. The blog simply is whatever those who read it deem it to be. If it accomplishes the goal of the blogger as well then that's a bonus. But like most things on the net how it's used is more important.

Nevertheless the blogger is doing it for a reason or reasons. People are free to read or ignore each blog as they see fit. Most bloggers are at least in part driven by a need to be read, because if no one's reading then they never will accomplish their goals. On a further level it is about influence: either through humour, thought or otherwise. Most blogs contain elements of persuasion to a point-of-view, even if it is only oblique. The successful ones are often measured in hits but I would argue even more important is what influence they have on their reader. Many might read Instapundit daily because it provides a quick overview of what's going on in the blogosphere and world, without ever being influenced by Evil Glenn's thoughts. That's what I mean by the difference between a blogger's intent and a blogger's impact.

Let me talk about the one blog I know something about: this one. There is a mixture of purposes here. I am trying to keep family and friends in touch with our lives in this foreign land. I am trying to make observations about this land I am in from my unique point-of-view (as anyone's views would be unique from their point-of-view). I am trying to use a mix of humour and thought in discussing whatever pops into my head. Sometimes I am simply just having fun and experimenting with this medium. And for whatever reason you have found this little corner of the net and are reading this now. So obviously somehow that mix is working.

But I don't post everything on this blog. I make no apologies about my self-censorship. I hide the identity of my family, though it is not hard to work out who they are. I like to think the characters are obvious enough without pinning pictures and real names on each. I disguise where I live, not because I think I will be stalked (Brittney, email me for the address), but simply because it's not relevant to the goings-on of this blog. I do not comment about my workplace. I try to avoid too much commenting on topics that overlap with my work for the same reasons. I am always mindful that this blog is in public and essentially here for all time (which in blog terms is about 5 months, but you get my drift). I do think about some of the people who read this such as family and co-workers. If I choose to say my boss is the greatest guy in the world I expect he will read that sometime. Hopefully he will then see fit to pay me a whopping great bonus so I can retire. Like a newspaper the writer needs to be mindful of his audience as well as his purpose.

The question comes as to where to draw the line between what goes on here and what stays off. There's no rules for that. I make that decision each time I post something. Usually it is not such a tough decision. The question is usually what to post because it is interesting or it fits or just because. I spend more time worrying that I'm using too many contractions in my posts and breaking too many grammar rules like using prepositions to start sentences or having long sentences that are a series of clauses joined with conjunctions in differing tenses and voices and finally ending a preposition that is unrelated to the previous phrase, but.

This post is not like that. All this has been prompted by some very unsavoury events at the Disneyland complex where I live. The man in question is a friend of several of my co-workers. I've posted the article because it is obviously relevant to my life here. But I've been deliberating whether I should and to be honest I'm still not sure I've made the right decision. Murder happens all too often but thankfully it is rarely this close. But when it does come so close to home (both literally and metaphorically) it causes a pause for thought. This time it is not happening to that mythical "them", it is happening to "us". I can't put that mental distance that's needed in order to make the news feel safe enough to comment on. Instead I'm simply waffling on in a metaphysical dissertation on the nature of blogs. It is really overly self-indulgent in the extreme.

So now we're at the end of this post and you'll soon move on to the next one or to another blog. Just like in a novel or newspaper though it is important to remember that these words are written by someone with an agenda and a motive. The process of writing always involves judgements such as these: what to include, what to exclude; what to say, how to say it; and when not to say anything at all.

Sometimes those judgements are extremely difficult to make.

One of my co-workers has just informed me of the happy news that Pret-a-Manger, subject to this blog's long standing boycott, has now restarted offering sushi.

Never let it be said that this blog's power is useless. Together we have pushed this multinational corporation to respect it's customer wishes. However I can't be bothered going down to check it out as there's a better sushi place that's opened nearby anyway.

That's the way these boycotts go. You forget why you aren't doing whatever it is you're meant to not be doing because something else came along instead.

I often mention our apartment complex, affectionately known as Disneyland. It's owned by "Taiwanese interests" which means the (so far) 11 Ferraris are all owned by them and stay covered up for most of the time. I have offered to keep the engine ticking over during the week but strangely it has been refused.

So JC has been invited to yet another birthday party, taking this year's count to 5302154 parties to date. This one was due to be held at the banquet hall in the club house of the complex. We only got invitations a week ago, even though it is on Saturday, because the Disneyland people would only confirm it then. Great, no need to worry about negotiating the winding, hilly streets of Hong Kong to find another place.

Then a note arrives in JC's school bag yesterday. A very apologetic lady was notifying everyone of a change of venue. She went further. The reason the venue had to be changed was because the owners of Disneyland decided they would be visiting this weekend (no doubt because of the still-not-sold-out Rolling Stones concerts) and would like use of the room. So that's it. This poor lady, who's been stressing about organising a 3 year old party, gets unceremoniously dumped so some Taiwanese tycoon can use it as his leisure.

It's just not cricket.

It's time to trawl the depths of the world press so I can make cutting remarks:

1. Men try all different things in order to get women to go to bed with them. Usually it's dinner and a movie or some such. But if that fails then there is always this: An Israeli lawyer tried but failed to bind his wife legally to have sexual intercourse with him twice a day.

2. Here's two different men who should know better. First there's this man, who is clearly senile; then there's this man, who's a publicity hungry shyster.

3. I am actually amazed that this is news: Kids today. They waste hours in front of the TV and get their parents to spend money on designer clothes and haircuts. And they're not even three years old! This is from that old journalistic warhorse of writing how kids today are growing too fast/are too rebellious/are all going to suffer arrested development.

4. At least I know if the whole Survivor thing falls through I still might have a shot at fame: A new reality television show has been launched in the US searching for a porn star.

Lastly Prince Charles has denied doing whatever it is he has been alleged to have done. OK, so nothing happened here, move along please.

There's elections coming in a couple of weeks here in Hong Kong. As I understnad it these are for the District Councils. No one is quite sure what these councils actually do other than provide jobs for would-be politicians. It also let's the otherwise autocratic Government trumpted how "democratic" they are.

There's posters all along the various roadways of Hong Way with various look-a-like candidates. No word on policies or the like. Just photos with that politician smirk that looks like someone has shoved something sharp and jagged up the wrong orifice.

To help those new to HK politics (like myself) there are three main political groupings:

1. Those who wish the Glorious Motherland would fully subsume Hong Kong in its firm grasp and never let go. To these people there is nothing the CCP can do wrong. The main party is called the Democratic Party for the Betterment of Hong Kong. Not only can they mangle English with a word like "betterment", they also re-inforce my view of never trusting a part or country with Democrat or Democracy in the name.
2. Those who like Tung Che-Waa and his cronies are the devil incarnate. While mostly accurate the only policies they seem to have are to automatically oppose anything and everything the Government does.
3. Everyone else. This runs the full gamut from local nutcases to city-wide nutcases.

As to who to vote for, well that's easy. Given all the campaigning is in Cantonese I'll just exercise my democratic right to not care.

I'm now killing some time before a work function this evening. It turns out despite my reservations that I've chucked my hat in the ring for the new Survivor, partly at Helen's urging and partly because I want to be a part of internet history. If Don accepts me. If not I'll have even more reason to be bitter and cynical about it. Not too sure if the time zone thing will work for me or against me.

In other news, JC and PB had a whole group of friends over for playtime this afternoon. Mrs M reports only moderate damage to the apartment. JC is now jumping out of her skin with excitement as she will be starting ballet on Monday with her friend Helen. When that fortune teller told me she saw pink tutus and tafetta in my future I didn't realise she would mean this. I thought she was talking about me. Thank God that secret is still safe.

OK so I stole my title from Tony Pierce because I can't be bothered thinking of anything wittier. Sue me. Actually, don't sue me. There could be a case there.

The bus ride each morning into work (if Blogsplat screws it up it's written on Sept 30th) has been written about previously in these pages. What I failed to mention is the tinkling musak that plays over the speakers. I try and block it out with loud music but it can be hard. So I let my mind drift and think about what in the blazes can I blog about today...

Last night I had the opportunity of visiting a client at their office. I'd like to maintain some discretion, so let's call them the Macau and Beijing Banking Corporation (MBBC). They occupy an iconic building in the middle of Central in Hong Kong. This was my first time inside after admiring it from afar. The interior is even more spectacular, with a massive attrium that runs the full height of the building. Each floor seems to almost "hang" off this atrium. Even though the attrium is open there is no cacophony of sounds despite most workers sitting in open plan plains. There are the usual rabbit warren of offices towards the periphery of each floor. The elevator doesn't go to each floor: some floors are reached by an escalator from a lower one. It's an ingenious design which certainly makes the workplace more interesting than the usual square with a hole in the middle approach of most office towers.

Mrs M went and got her new smart ID card yesterday. The whole process took 10 minutes, which was good for her. It meant Mrs M and her girlfriend could go shopping. To be fair they went shopping for presents as we have 4 more birthday parties in the next two weeks. Even PB is getting invitations to parties now. JC announced to me this morning she wanted to go to a party today instead of school.

Don't we all?

Don has posted the tentative schedule for Survivor: Blog Edition. It starts (hopefully) Friday with the announcement of players before heading into the contest proper next week.

Being time zone disadvantaged (13 hours ahead of EST means in fact I would see everything half a day after those playing in the USA) I choose to sit this one out and instead mock the player's efforts with a casual cynacism. Please join in.

Elsewhere I've really made the big time, saving Luuk the bear from a fate worse than death: participation in a bizarre love triangle. It's nice to be fantasised about in an American woman's Swedish based blog. I think there's a movie in this somewhere.

The South China Morning Post is HK's English paper of record. It is usually choc-a-bloc full of goodies to fill a blog with and often myself and other HK bloggers indulge. Today marks the 100 year anniversary of this paper and it comes in an appropriate red bag to celebrate our glorious Motherland's wise and benevolent rule by the Communist Party the ocassion.

All it actually proves from a quick early perusal is the paper was just as bad 100 years ago as it is today. Then they toadied up to their English masters; now it's their Chinese masters. Different century, different rules, same paper.

I've been entered into the "All Politics is Local" category of this week's Carnival of the Vanities over at Wizbang.

Not quite sure how it got in there, but like any good Hong Kong ballot, that's not the point. The point is to vote early and vote often. Of course the result has already been determined but you can kid yourself that your vote makes a difference.

While Jim and Don continually fight over Helen I'd rather have Luuk. I'm not saying Helen's not worth fighting for, but just look at that Bear: here, here, and of course here (the bear, not Helen).

That bear must visit Hong Kong. We must get some of the HK blogging community involved. Luuk will never be the same. Bhwuhahahaha.

Don's attempt to get Survivor: The Blogosphere Edition off the ground is coming together. An official first draft of the rules has been posted. Furthermore a new site has been setup and I've already added it to the Blogroll on the right. Look for people racing for the lowest common denominator in the quickest time, all in the comfort of your internet browser.

The best way to watch these things is with an outer layer of sarcasm and an inner layer of all-consuming interest. Reality shows like this are like car accidents or those funniest video shows - they repel and draw you in at the same time. Your head says no but your heart and remote control finger say stay, watch a little and enjoy others' suffering.

Only problem with this contest is the participants aren't half-starved and sleeping in make-shift shelters. Actually maybe some of them will be anyway?

Stay tuned.

Horse racing is a regular event in Hong Kong. Every weekend there are races at Sha Tin; every Wednesday night there are races at Happy Valley. For those unfamiliar with Hong Kong, Sha Tin is in the New Territories, towards the border with China. Happy Valley race-course is in the middle of HK Island and surrounded by residential blocks, office towers and several major roads. Consequently traffic on Wednesday night's is generally chaotic with HK finest tending to arbitrarily diverting traffic to make things as bad as possible. My journey home will take an extra 25 minutes on race night and that's after the bus driver takes detours and back roads.

However last night was race night even though it was Tuesday. This was because it was Melbourne Cup, Australia's biggest horse race. So the HK Jockey Club moved the race day and made the Melbourne Cup the first race of the meeting, broadcasting it on the big screen.

It is difficult to convey quite how pervasive horse racing is in Hong Kong life. The Jockey Club is the only legalised gambling institution in this city and yet gambling is embedded deeply in pschce of Chinese culture. Macau is an hour boat ride away, but for the average punter it's out of reach. Lately the Government have legalised betting on soccer as well but GGs remain the main game. The HK Jockey Club is a curious institution in itself. It is not Government owned and in fact membership is open to anyone. It is an incredibly rich club with fabulous facilities and a large clubhouse in the middle of Happy Valley, just up the road from the race course. It sees itself as a kind of benevolent society, bequeathing various white elephants on HK like the HK Stadium in Wan Chai, as well as the usual charities and causes.

To give you an idea of the scale of horse racing here, an average Wednesday night race has approximately US$10 million in the totaliser prize pool. That's for one race. That doesn't include all the bookmakers (legal or otherwise). That is seperate for the prize money for the horses as well. The race course stands are full to the rafters and each Jockey Club outlet (of which there are plenty over Hong Kong) will have 100 men, and it's always men, sitting around filling in betting slips. Taxi drivers spend their spare time studying the form. The person serving lunch knows more about the breeding of these horses than the owners. The papers have the usual form guides running to 8 or 12 pages.

The result of this is HK attracts the best horses and trainers from Asia and probably the world. There are several Aussie jockeys and trainers plying their trade here: Shane Dye and Darren Hayes are the best known. The rewards are enormous for those who are successful but the pressure is immense. The HK Jockey Club can and does de-certify trainers if they don't have enough winners over a season. Likewise owners are looking for a good return on their investment and expect their horses to run well. There is only ever one winner though so there is a frequent turn-over of trainers and jockeys.

What is not talked about is the downside of all this gambling. I am not aware of much support for gamblers in Hong Kong although I'm sure it exists. A few weeks back I was in a taxi with PB and the driver was telling me about his little boy who is the same age. We were doing the usual parent thing, how much fun it is but how it can be expensive with kids. The driver then announced he spends upto HK$10,000 on the horses and hopes to make enough one day to retire. He added that he drives the cab basically to get betting money. He often argues with his wife over money for basics but all will be well in the end. While this was remarkable I thought to myself that this is by means an unusual tale in Hong Kong.

So in fact racing in Hong Kong is a microcosm of the city itself. It combines the rich elite (owners and Jockey Club members) with the masses who plough their hard-earned into the game, always looking for the big payout. That's the system, right or wrong. It works for everyone and no-one complains. But no-one sees the damage either. Like everything in this city, the main thing is chasing the almighty dollar. Nothing else much matters.

I'm a little late with this, but Helen going to be devastated when she reads this:

Britney Spears is reportedly dating actor John Cusack, after falling for him during a promotional tour for her upcoming album. According to Britain's Daily Star newspaper, the singer, 21, met the 37-year-old Con Air star while performing in New York clubs, and was overheard asking an assistant for his number. Reports also claim the sexy star headed to the plush Four Seasons Hotel, where Cusack was staying, after chatting to a mystery man on her cell phone. And sources close to the singer insist the pair have subsequently shared some intimate dates. One says, "They are seeing each other but not really dating. It's too early to say where this may lead, but there is something there."

Today's (unlinkable) South China Morning Post, Hong Kong's very own syncopantic organ of the CCP, has a plethora of entertaining stories:

1. An Australian expert such as television star Steve Irwin may be invited to Hong Kong to help catch the Yuen Long crocodile.
The young reptile yesterday evaded capture for a third day. In spite of taking advice from Australian specialists, a 20-strong team from the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department (AFCD) has had no luck so far.

There are 20 of them, and they've not caught the croc, so they'll call a TV personality instead. Another good use of HK tax money

2. It will be the first time the Stones have played in Hong Kong. They had been scheduled to play two concerts in March but cancelled because of Sars.

There are still tickets for sale - "good seats are available but they are going fast", said a Harbour Fest spokesman.

The Stone are on in two days, and there still tickets available. Anywhere else in the world this would have been sold out weeks ago. Still, Harbour Cluster Fest continues.

3. Shenzhen's ambitious plan to reorganise its government has been effectively scrapped because it challenged the power of the Communist Party, according to academics.
A pet project of former mayor Yu Youjun, who has been reassigned to Hunan as vice-governor, the reform envisaged a western-style separation of the government into policymaking, implementation and supervisory divisions. But the plan was allowed to fade into oblivion after his departure.

More political progress in the People's Republic. Can't have different bits of the Governemnt making the policy, implementing it and supervising the necessary bribes too, can we?

There's much more: another full page of China's spaceman and how he makes his kid do homework (fascinating stuff); a two page splash on last night's horse races which co-incidently enough had the SCMP 100th anniversary race; and plenty of other meaningless crap.

An idea who's time has finally come:

SURVIVOR: The Blogosphere Edition

Reality TV meets the Blogosphere. I'm hoping it is similar to the TV show, with plenty of backstabbing and bitchyness amongst petty Americans who take themselves too seriously. This will be one to watch.

The only things keeping me awake today seem to be excessive amounts of caffine ingested via copious amounts of Diet Coke (as I cannot abide coffee) and a little voice that keeps saying you need to keep working, you need to keep working.

Why can't offices have nap rooms? Everyone slows down in that hour or two after lunch; the eyes get droopy, the tummy is full and work seems pointless. Actually work often seems pointless, but particularly so after lunch. I would be much more productive if I had a nap for an hour or so. I wouldn't work longer hours, but I'd be more productive. Or at least I wouldn't be so tired.

It turns out that voice I hear is my boss's. It's pretty persuasive.

There's many reasons us Jews have been able to thrive and survive more than 5,000 years of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Now medical science is catching up to Abraham...Recent studies showed circumcision protected men against HIV and lowered the risk of cervical cancer in their partners and recent studies showed an eightfold reduced risk of HIV in those who had been circumcised.

There's a cosmetics firm here called Fancl who advertise incessantly on all media - busses, TV, movies, papers. What is Fancl? I am not sure the letters "n", "c" and "l" are meant to be lumped together concurrently in a word without a vowel or two. It is pronounced Fun-cull, which I personally think is one of the most offputting brand names ever, especially for a "beauty" brand.

These advertisements say a lot about the mindset of HK women. The main products are in two varities: the magic potion that will slim you to a waif; and the magic cream that will make you whiter than Michael Jackson. The ads thus consist of plenty of white background, with waif-like Chinese girls who are paler than a ghost all smiling their white toothy grins as they frolic around loving life. I imagine once the filming is finished they all collapse in a heap from all the exercise and the lack of nutrition they receive.

Then again most men can never understand the whole deal with cosmetics anyway.

This morning was a typical HK morning. The in-laws left at 5am. They were extremely quiet as they were getting ready to leave and it was only the smell of raisin toast that aroused me from my pleasant slumber. Kisses and hugs and they walked to the elevator with luggage in tow. Mrs M decided she'd return to our marital bed while I decided to remain on the sofa given I would soon to re-awaken for work. Just settling back under the covers there was a knock at the door. Actually there wasn't even a knock.

(Digression 1) Because we live in a secure building with a guard we usually don't lock the front door. To be honest, if someone is prepared to break in through the front gate of Disneyland, get into our tower (which is up the hill), get in the elevator and go up 21 floors past the guard, they can take whatever they can shlepp with them. Additionally crime in HK is rare unless you're invovled with Triads. So our front door remains unlocked. It means I don't have to ever take keys with me to work. In fact I only got a copy of our front door key after being in the apartment 6 months. But I digress.

The front door opened and there was my father-in-law. There were no taxis so they need a lift to the Airport Express station. (Digression 2) HK's former overlords from Britain decided the best way they could squander bequeath their former colony was to spend some of HK's massive reserves. This was spent on an airport. The airport was built on an artificial island, requiring new roads, bridges, trains, facilities with an award winning terminal building designed by some Pommie git who wins awards for designing grandiose public buildings. But God damn it, it works and it works well. There's a train station right in the middle of town that takes 25 minutes to the airport. It is quintessentially Hong Kong: fast, efficient, on time, well thought out and not used by most of the population. But I digress, again.

So I got dressed to take them to the airport. Got the keys and glasses, went down to the lobby. Discovered a taxi had been found after all and my services weren't needed. Another goodbye to the in-laws, trundled back to the elevator and back home. Back into bed for 5 minutes of tossing before realising there was no chance I would be going back to sleep. Especially with Misti snoring away heartily in the corner. So got up and frigged around for a while. Waited for the girls to wake. Of course today they slept in to 6:30am (yes, that's sleeping in). They kept each other entertained for a while, then I went in to get them up. Today involved changing two dirty nappies (yes, that kind of dirty), as well as checking out a sick JC, who seems to have a mix of conjunctivitis and a cold. Suffice to say she hasn't gone to school today.

Then I scoffed down a quick breakfast, quickly got dressed for work and raced for the bus, which of course I missed by seconds. Thus I arrive late to work, feeling completely exhausted already and like the day is half-over when it's only just begun.

Normally I don't get too nervous when speaking front of crowds and the like. Normally. However I am soon to be interviewed by Jen in front of the whole blogging universe. What if my answers aren't witty enough? What if people ask about my troubled past? I really hope no-one mentions that unpleasantness with Madonna and Britney Spears a while back.

In the meantime, feel free to drop Jen a line and leave some questions for me. I promise to answer the truth, the whole truth, and nothing else but a pack of lies.

Days like tomorrow are what I miss about Australia. It is Melbourne Cup day tomorrow. It's a horse race. It's a public holiday in Victoria and may as well be in the rest of the country. The morning is spent with office sweeps, studying form guides and visiting the TAB (betting shop). People who know nothing about GGs suddenly become experts. Like myself for example. No work is done at all in the afternoon. Many leave at lunchtime for the pub or a function at the local racetrack to watch it all. Usually it's an anti-climax as everyone tries to work out if they've won. Last year with a couple of the lads from work we partook in a very successful afternoon of punting. We aim to repeat the trick tomrrow, albeit with myself here in HK and fellow CoL member Chopper stuck on honeymoon somewhere on the Barrier Reef and out of range.

On the way back from a customer lunch I noticed something about HK. Well two things actually. I have yet to see anyone in a wheelchair in 10 months of living here. HK is not well suited to wheelchairs, being all hills and stairs. But nevertheless it strikes me as odd that there's no-one seemingly in a wheelchair. However what there is plenty of is people with impediments. Usually of the walking variety. They are pigeon-toed, or partly lame or worse. It's never pretty but it is surprisingly common. I have no idea why.

Now I know the California election is so very last month. But it has lead to the inevitable movie. Not just any movie: The story of the race to become the governor of California is being turned into a p0rn movie. [That's a deliberate misspelling on my part to avoid the net filters].

I'll edit out some of this but you'll get the gist:

Dear Friend.

Quite a start.

As you read this, I don't want you to feel sorry for me, because, I believe everyone will die someday.

OK I won't.

My name is Musa Aloma, a merchant in Dubai, in the U.A.E.I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer which was discovered very late, due to my laxity in carrying for my health. It has defiled all forms of medicine, and right now I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts.

I know some doctor friends who've defiled a lot of medicine too, but that wasn't legal.

I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone not even myself but my business. Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focus on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world. I believe when God gives me a second chance to come to this world I would live my life a different way from how I have lived it. Now that God ! has called me, I have willed and given most of my properties and assets to my immediate and extended family members and as well as a few close friends.

I'll bet you're getting a lot more attention from your family and friends then. Now this is all fascinating, but what's it got to do with me?

I want God to be merciful to me and accept my soul and so, I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth. So far, I have distributed money to some charity organizations in the U.A.E, Algeria and Malaysia. Now that my health has deteriorated so badly, I cannot do this my self any more.

Not too sure how a Jew in Hong Kong's going to help you here. U.A.E., Algeria and Malaysia ain't where I'm sending your money, buddy, old pal.

I once asked members of my family to close one of my accounts and distribute the money which I have there to charity organization in Bulgaria and Pakistan, they refused and kept the money to themselves. Hence, I do not trust them anymore, as they seem not to be contended with what I have left for them.

If you can't trust your family, then surely you can trust someone you sent an email to at random. Pakistan and Bulgaria. They ain't on my list either, my dying friend.

The last of my money which no one knows of is the huge cash deposit of twenty four million dollars that I have with a security company in Amsterdam. I will want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations. email me at musaloma@hknmetmail.com for confidinsal reasons.

That is a huge cash deposit. If it's US currency. Ummm, but old mate, you deposited it with a security company? Not a bank? In that well known banking mecca of Amsterdam. You want me to schlepp from HK to Holland to pick up your money, when you're half as close. Trust me, this will remain "confidinsal" as soon as I work out what that means.

I have set aside 10% for you for your time and
patience.

Musa Aloma.

10%! You're kidding. I don't do dodgy scams for less than cheap Wiggles tickets.

Hemlock is, with Conrad the blogfather of HK blogs. A cantankerous lawyer (I'm guessing) his daily dose of a paragraph of satire usually makes me laugh out loud. I often scan Pacific Coffee at IFC to try and guess which one is him. He has now compiled The World's Most Authoritative Guide to Hong Kong Blogs. Your truly has made the list with the following description:

At the other end of the life-organization skills scale. Married with children, and a sufficiently skilled writer to make such circumstances sound bearable. His accounts of life and work are thoughtful, responsible and mature by HK blog standards (which maybe isn't saying a lot). Warning: kids and pets updates.

I think there's a compliment in there somewhere.

I read most of thse blogs daily (except BWG which my work net filter deems not fit for viewing. You will find Gweilo Diaries, Shaky Kaiser, and Flying Chair as well as Hemlock in my blogroll. Please give 'em visit to get an idea of how other people see Hong Kong. It is a shame there don't seem to be many "locals" doing English blogs. Yet.

Friday night made the mad dash home to Disneyland to join in the Halloween festivities. This is a new experience for us and it showed. JC was dressed as a princess and PB was Tigger from Winnie-the-pooh. Not really in the same league as the skeletons, ghouls and other assorted members of the occult doing the rounds. It was very social and PB had a ball, although JC got a little freaked out and had the inevitable nightmares. Our lolly haul was pathetic. JC was too shy to follow my "use your elbows and shoulders" advice to get a better allocation. I have no doubt there were plenty of kids who came to the Disneyland complex just for the night. I felt a little cheated by this - all the residents had bags of lollies etc to hand out and these interlopers come along and help themselves. I don't know what the spirit of this festival is but that sucks.

Saturday morning was an early start with JC's nightmares to contend with. With Mrs M's folks still staying with us I took the girls to the supermarket to get supplies for breakfast. Eventually Grandma woke up and we could eat. When I say eventually, Mrs M and I started our day about 6am, so the 10am start to breakfast might sound civilised to some but was an eternity to me. My in-laws, being of Hungarian background, often talk in Hungo with each other and Mrs M, who understands perfectly and speaks passably. So when they announced dinner was "Rontenhush" (this is my interpretation) I was intriuged but no further clues were forthcoming.

Next we headed down to the HK Cricket Club with some fellow Disneyland inmates. There was no cricket game so the kids ran around on the grass, played in the playground and swam. We yet again forget their costumes so they swam naked - cute at this stage but worrying if they develop a life-long love of it. We weren't meant to be in the club as non-members can't visit on weekends but like many things if you have enough chutzpah the Chinese dislike of confrontation will get you through. We're working on getting membership through my limited squash playing prowess - hopefully they'll fall for it.

Came home for lunchtime nap time, which everyone took part in. Misti decided my ample belly would be the most comfortable part of the entire apartment to spend the next two hours so that's where she slept. I was so tired that sleep wasn't a problem. Jackie our helper had come down with something so she spent the day ensconced in her room. We gave her some lemonade and biscuits to help her through and by Sunday morning she was fine. But it meant we actually had a whole weekend like a normal family (i.e. without a helper). It turned out to be extremely enjoyable. I certainly enjoy having Jackie around on Saturdays as it allows us flexibility to do various things but sometimes it is nice just to be the family unit and no-one else.

Once everyone woke we headed off to a local park for some serious playground time. Returned home, eager to discover what was for dinner. However a mystery awaited on our doorstep - two Wallaby jerseys. Thinking this was a message from God I instantly turned on the TV to watch Australia just keep the Irish out in the Rugby. Next mystery was dinner: turned out it was schnitzel, which lead to a dinner time discussion of why Hungos have a different word for schnitzel. My theory is if the Austrians and Hungarians shared an empire, surely they could've agreed on a few common terms for what kept them together. It's not like schnitzel is an English word either. Still it was good tucker followed by watching one of the dodgy DVDs from Shenzhen. It was Adaptation with Nicholas Cage. I loved it, Mrs M thought it was so-so and my in-laws now are sure that I am weird.

Sunday morning started out with JC joining Mrs M and I in our bed, which is actually the sofa while the in-laws are in town. She drank her morning milk, turned to milk [WARNING: gross bit coming up] and chucked up a good percentage of it all over me. Stripped the bed and clothes, had a shower with JC to wash it all out of our respective hair and we could get on with the day. These are the bits about kids they don't tell you on the cereal boxes. On the boxes they're always blond, blue-eyes and happily running down a beach. They never show the milk vomit. Anyways, took the girls to the newly reopened Disneyland playground. The renovation has been a complete disaster. They removed the old stuff, replaced it with half as much stuff which is half as good. To say the inmates are not happy is an understatement. Straight after this I am writing to Disneyland management to complain. If I don't go to bed first.

Yet again returned for the lunchtime schluff and Misti again managed to find my belly as the comfy-iest spot in the place. Whatever. Mrs M wasn't feeling great so once the girls woke I took JC to a birthday party in Jardine's Lookout. It was in a ritzy neighbourhood and I knew it would be good because the Bentley was in the garage. It turned out it was a house with its own pool. This may not impress you much, but to have a detached house in Hong Kong means you are worth in the serious multi-millions at least. And what a house - spacious, well-laid out, latest everything, beautiful artwork, wooden decking leading to a 25 metre pool. Really good. JC had a good time mingling with her classmates until she came across a Barbie. That was it for the rest of the party. Most of the kids were distracted by the massive TV playing inane kids videos and the other activities. There was plenty of food on offer which the parents happily helped themselves too. I knew one or two of the other parents but the reality is I only see these people once a month at these parties. A bit of polite chit-chat was the extent of it. The hostess kept telling me she thought JC was the most beautiful girl in the class. I couldn't help but agree. What I did wonder was where she placed her own daughter, who's in the same class. All I could reply was how nice she was to say so and what a lovely place they had. I was hoping the take-home gift would be some bars of gold bullion, but it turned out to be some handpainted tambourines. This take-home present thing is, like many HK things, taken to extremes. One party JC returned with more gifts than she left with. So the hand-painted tambourines represented a great compromise between over-the-top effort and modesty.

While we were enjoying life with HK's elite, Mrs M, her Mum, PB and Misti braved the haze and humidity to walk down from Disneyland to Stanley. A decent walk, the timing was perfect as they returned to Disneyland 5 minutes after we did. We then promptly turned around and headed down to Spices at Repulse Bay, a Thai/Indian resturaunt that's set outdoors. Yet again PB ate her own body weight in food while JC ate three bites and declared she was full. The food was fantastic and we returned home and put the troops to bed. PB pished on me just before her bath, but I don't want to gross anyone else out. I'm just saying Kelloggs have a lot to answer for. Finally Mrs M and her Mum are watching a quick flick, her Dad has hit they hay and I'm hitting the blog.

A big weekend now I look back on it. Time for that complaint letter.