Well, Christmas is the time for families...

Spotted: Old Serbian Man, squeezing my friend's shoulder: "You have strong bones. Good for bearing children!"

Thanks S for the submission! xoxo.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Hello everyone. Apologies for the slow posting. It's Christmas and we've spent the last few days too drunk off of turkey and wine to do much other than drink and eat more while massaging our swollen stomaches. Lovely image we know. Luckily for everyone, we've finally emerged from the haze of gluttony that defines this holiday season and are able to write and talk somewhat more coherently. Enjoy the following:

It was a Saturday night at Aqua. I'm not a big fan but I had out of town guests and say what you of the snobby clientele and shady service (they've "accidentally" overcharged us everytime I've been) but it does have the best view of the Central skyline. That particular night, the lights were especially bright because the skyscrapers were decked out for the holiday season. I was hoping that the flashing bulbs would be enough of a distraction to allow me a quick getaway. No such luck.

"Wait..I'm one of the richest men in Hong Kong," exclaimed Mr. Subtle, puffing out his chest as he grabbed hold of my wrist. Annoyed but curious to see how he'd work his way out of his bluff, I sat back down. "Oh, really? I thought you said you worked in a textile company?" I asked, hiding my amused and incredulous look behind a slow sip of my lemon-grass martini.

"Well, you know, I was in finance and did really well with that, I mean, after all I am one of the richest men in Hong Kong now. But I decided to try something new. I called up a textile company and said I want to work for you and when they saw how much experience I had they rushed me straight to the top and made me their head guy," he said, beaming.

Mr. Subtle pulled out a card. Honey Textiles it read in neon green print against black on one side. I flipped it over. The other side had his name and mobile on it....filled out in blue ink.

Apparently "one of the richest men in Hong Kong" couldn't even afford a card with his name printed on it. Instead his card was a fill-in-the-blank, with the word NAME printed on followed by a space and the word PHONE followed by a space, onto which he had dutifully written-in his name and number with a ball point pen.

Wow, lying is hot. But being a bad liar is even hotter.

"You're FAT! I'm charming!"

Beijing is one of those places where there never seems to be an age limit to groups mixing. As a result, you get 20 somethings joking and chugging down Tsingdao with friends twice their age. Our friend J had somehow secured a friendship slot in Beijing's elder, well-to-do set. Her friend H was one of those wealthy divorcee's who spent their entire China existence getting as many Chinese girls as their Viagra supply could handle. Taking a page out of President Bush's "How to be Successful Handbook" you could always count on H pulling the "hand on small of back move". Despite his faults - smarminess, dull wit, constant and unecessary touching, he threw amazing catered cocktail parties with a delicious spread of food and copious amounts of alcohol.

He enjoyed having us at his parties because we lent him some street cred as being in tune with the youth crowd and perhaps, when it came down to it, our breasts were perky. We enjoyed his parties because, we could bring as many of our friends as we liked, squat in an immaculate apartment and eat and drink for free. As a result, his parties ended up being segregated groups of 20-somethings drinking furiously and old, white expat men trying to seal the deal with Chinese girls half their age. During one such party, the douchiness level amongst the old, white expat men seemed higher than usual.

My friends and I looked on as the mid life crisisers raced through the bottles of wine as if they secretly believed that their rate of alcohol consumption directly correlated with how youthful and virile they were. While the alcohol did little to reverse the forward march of time (except maybe in thier own minds) it did make the men sloppier and louder. So loud in fact that even from across the room we could hear the contents of their banter which seemed centering on critiquing their Chinese countparts' physique which seemed a bit hypocritical seeing as all the men had decidedly apple shaped bodies.

"OH YOU'RE A LOVELY ONE," roared drunken old man one boisterously creeping a lecherous hand around his friend's companion. She tittered nervously and tried to pull away. "YOU'RE A GOOD LOOKER TOO HONEY," yelled drunken old man two a decible higher, intent on not being shown up by his friend. "OH THIS ONE??" sputtered drunken man one. "SHE'S HOT NOW BUT SHE DIDN'T USED TO BE." He then turned to his Chinese lady friend and said something that if any man uttered in the West would have landed him a punch to the face, "GO ON HONEY, TELL M HERE ABOUT HOW YOU USED TO BE FAT." The Chinese girl in question's face reddened. Her friend tried to laugh. The men, oblivious to their discomfort did another vodka shot.

Spotted: Eat and Runner

The Christmas season is upon us. Due to global financial crisis hitting all corners of the globe now, people maybe finding it harder to give in this season of giving. Take this story as an example:

I am writing this on behalf of a friend of mine who recently had the unpleasant experience of meeting a guy named [bleep] from America. They met via an online ad my friend had placed ( I have advised her stop placing ads as she becomes a target when she does) I realize that I only have half the story, but as an American I feel bad that this girl was cheated and lied to by another American.

This guy met this girl and they emailed back and forth for a few weeks. Then he asked her to dinner,ordered a lot to eat and then proceeded to eat most of the food. He then excused himself to the restroom where he leaves the Chinese girl with the bill. He is from New Jersey I believe, and in his mid 20’s. He claims to be a wealthy consultant in the hotel industry. I have his pic, name, and contact information for anyone that might be interested.

An asshole coming from New Jersey. What are the odds?

Pow.

Thanks to a reader tip we were able to find quite a nice story of an expat man getting his comuppance in the form of a punch to the face for his douchebaggery.

Here's the article in a paraphrased and edited form. To read the original please click here.

Last night I was sitting at a bar in Yangshuo and a Canadian bartender from a bar across the street comes in completely hammered, sees all of us sitting around and asks us why we were all there. He tells us that he knew a bar up the road packed full of beautiful girls and that we should all go there. He then leaves.

Ten minutes later he returns holding his bleeding bottom and told us that someone had just punched him in the face. When I asked who punched him his reponse was classic, "a girl who apparently doesn't want to have sex with me!"

Ouch.

Reader Submission: The Play Gay

If TV has taught us nothing else it's that the best gal pal is a gay pal. Other than roofies, nothing will make the modern girl drop her defenses faster than a sassy, sashaying man. But what happens when a guy you meet is just pretending?

READER SUBMISSION
A friend of ours has been known to tell girls that he's gay while out at a bar. After he's gained their trust he baits girls by telling them that if they let him squeeze their breasts he can tell if they've been ahem... enhanced. When they look aghast the assures them with this line, "It's totally okay, I'm gay. I won't even be turned on. I'm actually grossed out by breasts." Wierd part is is that it actually has worked more than a few times.

And you thought this only happened in C-list movies. Caveat emptor ladies.

The One Man Mind Fuck

It was our fourth date and things were going swimmingly. Dinner on the first date, hiking on the second, hutong biking on the third... Our fourth date involved a lot of vodka. As he nuzzled my neck in a drunken haze, he whispered "God, I love you. I really do." Having consumed significantly less than my love struck partner, I didn't respond with any tipsy confessions of my own. I was also sober enough to recognize his outburst as having far more to do with the potent, clear liquid in his martini glass than true feelings. I mean, c'mon, it was our fourth date! I figure, if he meant it, well, that's a little scary so soon, but I can deal with it. If he didn't, well, people have said stranger things under the influence and if that was all it was, then, well, frankly it would be a relief.

When I spoke to him the next day, he had driven himself into a frenzy over what he had said. "I don't love you! Really, I don't! Oh my god, how could I have said that? I'm not the type who says that! I don't love you! I didn't say it! Oh god!" For all my shhhhhhing and reassurances that I wasn't taking it too seriously nor was I expecting a diamond ring on our next date, he could not be calmed. "I can't deal with this. It's moving too fast!" he exclaimed emphatically. And then he just stopped calling. The man drove himself into a crazed tizzy while all I could do was sit on the sidelines, blinking in confusion.

A friend later commented spot on: "He mind-fucked himself."

Swapping spit and stories

"...one poster encountered with a working girl named Hebe. “Her English was good, but her choice of turn-on talk was a little creepy! Example, ‘You are a grandfather! You can be my grandfather and I am your little girl! I am very sympathetic to needs of grandfather!’ Ick!”"


Thanks to this little article tip sent to us we were able to learn about the International Sex Guide Forum. We all know that some men can't get enough of the ladies. So much so that they are willing to pay for the comforting embraces of female companionship. The internet, which fittingly enough, orginally gained popularity through people looking for porn in more convenient places than Blockbuster and their dad's closets, has provided one more safe haven for these men.

The International Sex Guide Forum lets lonely and/or horny dudes find their special someones the world over. It also contains useful tips about the customs and pricing strategies of each city because nothing ruins a good boner like feeling like a cultural faux pax or feeling like you got ripped off. Another popular aspect of the site are men detailing their excursions with specific prostitutes and giving recommendations. A useful feature for some who may hesitate in buying the car without taking it out for a test drive.

hot.

From moocher to part-time moocher

"After four months, he finally moved off the couch and got an apartment of his own! Ok, so his friend and I shelled out for the first two month's rent and he still has no job yet, but that's progress! Right?" she exclaimed in glee.

We all congratulated her. But since when did a guy who moves from total moocher to just part-time moocher become a catch? Oh yes, since moving to Beijing.

The Voice of Entitlement

We're sure many of you may have already heard about this post but we couldn't listen and not post about the Danwei dubbed "3 Million RMB foreign douchebag."

Apparently an expat male with delusions of being Donald Trump a la The Apprentice called into Sherpas and went off on the girl taking his order telling her she had a bad attitude and that he was going to teach her about manners. His 4 minute long lesson (he doesn't really get going until after the first minute) consisted of him telling her that she was a fucking bitch and that the Chinese were a race of rude people.

Wow, nothing's sexier than entitled, racist expat men. Can't wait to go out tonight and if we can meet any of these gems roaming the city. Yummy yummy.

We were going to post the audioclip here but the embedded link from Imeem didn't want to work with blogger and other than cut and paste, we're pretty much out of ideas. Click on the Danwei link if you want to hear the whole thing.

Charisma Man

Charisma Man is a comic strip originally created back in '98 as a satirical take on the overconfidence of expat English teachers in Japan; however, I'm sure many of us in China can relate to these themes ten years later.

hello upper east siders. it's china dirt. xoxo!

Mmm winter. The leaves have died, the winds are gusting and skies are bleak. Sorry for the long hiatus readers. This year, China Dirt makes its New Years resolution a month early – aside from obsessing over the latest Blair and Chuck love arc we also pledge to, oh yes, update more.

Like a good errant boyfriend who displays his contrition with a bouquet of flowers and sad, doleful eyes, we’re going to give you an apology present as well - clue as to who we might be (or at least what we look like). After numerous emails, countless comments and a few gchat pop ups hypothesizing who we might be (the aggregated conclusion came out to be white, heavy set and fugly) we’ll give you this hint – and only really because it’s relevant for how the following story will read – one of us is (hold your breath guys) a full blooded foreign born Chinese. Onto the first story of the new year: “You don’t know English as well as me.”

So our fellow FBC was out one night at a rather swank cocktail party. Despite dressing up and having somewhere to go she unfortunately found herself backed into the corner by a charmless Karl Lagerfeld doppelganger – Note: fat, creepy Karl, not svelte, hipster Karl.

“Wow, you’re English eez good.” slurred the unhandsome stranger, blasting his hot, sour, cranberry laced breath into her face – oh yes, he was standing that close.
“I’m from abroad,” she replied.
“You are foreign? No! You look Chinese! You are Chinese. Vat do you do?” he spat out incredulously.
“Genetics tends to do that” she said looking for an escape, “I’m a brand strategist.”
“Zat is not a real word. You must be confused. You are not foreign,” he said triumphantly.

The rest of this gem of a conversation doesn’t really warrant being recorded. Let’s just end on that the crowd was luckily big enough for our FBC contributor to melt mercifully into avoiding rotund Karl for the rest of the evening.