Streetfighting Man

As I ran up New Bridge Road this morning, I saw two men fighting outside one of the KTV joints.

If you haven't been to this side of the world, you might not have heard of KTV; it is an abbreviation for Karaoke Television, and depending on what country you're in that either means it's a karaoke joint, or (on New Bridge Road in Singapore) it's a place with blacked out windows that has some dodgy hostesses hanging out on the street. Rather in the same vein as the places with individually priced ladies I saw when I was waiting for my bus.

Trouble in Hong Kong

Hong Kong has never seemed that eventful for me. There is a march or a demonstration every weekend, but I'm either in bed asleep, or tucked away on one of the outer islands, or in another country, so I don't notice. In the week there is the posse of shouting ladies outside the banks, but they've metamorphosed for me from angry protestors to a constant cultural fixture, and the banks seem of a similar mindset, which renders all that shouting ineffective.

Keep it down, lads

A friend is leaving Hong Kong this weekend to return to NYC, so he held a party in Bassment, a bar down on Lyndhurst Terrace.  It was a traditional Hong Kong expat party; a bar with a single barman trying to keep up with dozens of demands for booze, a sound system that pumped bass out hard enough to ruffle the hair on your head, and an inflatable plastic penis.