Wo Shi Laowai – Wo Pa Shui

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Palace Museum: Home to Many ‘Mosts’ and ‘Firsts’

Posted by MyLaowai on Thursday, May 22, 2014

Guest Post
For reference: http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/culture/2014-05/14/content_17505075_5.htm

Of course, it is high time the MyLaowai team turned its unbiased, unprejudiced but somewhat bleary eyes on the centerpiece of Chinese tourism. Unlike the propaganda promulgated by our colleagues at China Daily, that shining example of harmful harmonious reporting and a beacon of light to all lovers of suppressed free speech globally- we here at the MyLaowai newsteam have done a more thorough report on one of the world’s largest tourist traps.

First, let’s look at the claims.

1. The Forbidden City is the largest and most intact ancient building complex in the world.
Err, someone hasn’t been to the Tower of London. Size-wise, as in most important things, laowai much bigger than Chinese… It’s also older… much older… Technically speaking, the chink king brothel is listed by UNESCO as the largest collection of preserved ancient wooden structures in the world. There, if we narrow it down a lot, seeing as most smart little pigs built their houses from stone to stop the big bad wolf from burning them the fuck down… we can finally find a biggest. It’s the biggest surviving fire hazard from ancient times. Not really that ancient either. When I think of Ancient, I think of 1,000+ years, our chinky king brothel is about half that.

2. Biggest collection of old chink things.
Well, that’s a gimme, especially considering they include collections held elsewhere… and nobody, even the Palace Museum, is interested in over half the shit they have anyway…

3. The Palace Museum has been visited by the most tourists in the world.
Another gimme, seeing as Chinese can’t afford to visit other countries, even when they are granted permission to leave. What is with that, permission to leave your own country? Sigh. I can just see it now: “Let’s go visit the Louvre my honey-steeped locust” – “Sorry duck-face, we can’t get passports, Beijing ok?” Talk about a captive audience.

4. The Palace Museum was among the first batch listed as a world cultural heritage by UNESCO in China.
One of the first group of… not the first, but if we STREEEETTTTCCCCHHHHHHH the facts we can squeeze a first out of this I guess. A bit like a Chinese girl with a size-C push-up padded bra claiming to have C-size tits. No hun, they are AA’s. As in the battery…

5. The Palace Museum located in the most beautiful city central axis in the world.
WTF??!!! OMG. Excuse me while I have a martini or 60 to get over the shock. Once we wipe the pavements clean of blood, and ignore the fact it’s a giant bloody concrete pavement, how about we settle with “Located in the middle of one of the most polluted cities on the planet” and call it quits.

Hang on, there isn’t a number 6. You mean, even with including an outright lie or two, and stretching the facts until they can be plucked to accompany a mosquitoes hum, you can only find five?

There are plenty more, here’s just a few:

6: Museum with the most number of citizens slaughtered onsite in the modern era.
Argueably also true for the ancient era.

7: Most number of toilets in any museum without toilet paper!
Google ‘forbidden city toilet’ for a chuckle at reviews.

8: Least disabled-friendly museum.

http://blogs.wsj.com/chinarealtime/2014/05/02/un-forbidden-braving-beijings-biggest-tourist-attraction-in-a-wheelchair/ as one example. Let’s not forget, this is after the HUGE (Chinese huge is anything bigger than tiny) effort put in for the Olympics…

9. Museum with the most number of military police on duty.
Well, they hafta do something to keep unemployment rates down I guess…

10. Museum with the most ignored signage in the world.
From “No Spitting” to “No Photos” and “No Smoking”, I have yet to see any Chinese taking ANY notice at all of any of these signs…

That’s enough for now, but at least we made it to 10, and did it with the raw truth. MyLaowai > ChinaDaily, yet again.

Have a harmonica day!


Posted in ChinaDaily, Guest Post, History, Media, Propaganda | 8 Comments »

Little Snow-White and the Seven Runts

Posted by MyLaowai on Saturday, May 10, 2014

Guest Post

A fairy tale with harmonious Chinese characteristics, approved by the Self-Centred Cunts Committed Pricks.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away in the East, lived a KTV princess, married to a fat, rich, dickless businessman. She lived in a huge castle, over 120 squares in size. One winter’s day, when the snow was falling through the pollution like the shed skin from an epileptic leper, she was sewing a new pair of hungry shorts at her window, overlooking the open sewers and the beautiful multi-colored landscape of assorted discarded rubbish and excreta. The rooves she overlooked were of black tile, and as she was sewing she pricked her finger with her sewing needle, which was about the size of the dicks of the men she serviced daily. Three drops of blood fell into the snow, and the sight of fresh blood excited her. She thought to herself, “If only I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the rooves below.”

Soon afterwards, in accordance with State Approved Family Planning Laws, and mainly because the condoms her clients used were of Chinese Well Known Famous Brand Quality, she had a baby, whose skin was as white as snow, hair was as black as night during the frequent power outages and lips were as red as the goddamn cracker litter left everywhere everyday. They called her Little Snow White. The KTV princess then died of AIDS, see above regarding condom quality.

Within a year, the fat, rich, dickless businessman made another of his many mistresses his wife. She was a beautiful woman, but she was proud and arrogant, and she could not stand it if anyone might surpass her in beauty. She had a magic mirror called Weixin. Every morning she took a selfie before it, looked at herself, and said:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

To this the mirror answered:

You, my ho, are fairest of all.

Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the mirror spoke the truth.

Snow-White grew up and became ever more beautiful. Everyday she carried an umbrella to avoid changing a single pantone shade, even though the air was so polluted she couldn’t have tanned if she tried. When she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the light of day when in another country where the sun is visible, even more beautiful than the KTV princess herself. She was in huge demand at the local government offices at lunchtime.

One day, when the queen asked her question of Weixin, the mirror answered:

You, my ho, are fair; it is true.
But Snow-White is a thousand times fairer than you.

The queen took fright and her yellow skin turned green with envy. From that hour on whenever she looked at Snow-White, what passed for her heart turned over inside her body, so great was her hatred for the girl. The envy and pride grew ever greater, like a weed in her heart, until she had no peace day and night.

Then she summoned the triad boss who owned the KTV she worked at, and said to him, “Take Snow-White out into the back-streets. I never want to see her again. Kill her, and as proof that she is dead bring her lungs and her liver back to me.”

The liumang obeyed and took Snow-White into the suburbs. He took out his hunting knife and was about to stab it into her innocent heart when she began to cry, saying, “Oh, dear hooligan, let me live. I will blow a truckdriver and get a lift to the next city and never come back.”

Because she was so beautiful the huntsman took pity on her, and he said, “Run away, you poor child.”

He thought, “The locals will soon devour you anyway,” but still it was as if a stone had fallen from his heart, for he would not have to kill her.

Just then a young bore came running by. He killed it, cut out its lungs and liver, and took them back to the KTV princess as proof of Snow-White’s death. The cook had to boil them with salt and ginger, and the wicked woman ate them, supposing that she had eaten Snow-White’s lungs and liver. Hao chi!

The poor child was now all alone in the great city, and she was so afraid that she just looked at all the doors of the KTVs and did not know what to do. Then she began to run. She ran over uneven flagstones and through construction sites conveniently placed in the middle of the road, and wild officals jumped at her, but they did her no harm. She ran as far as her feet could carry her, and just as evening was about to fall she saw a little house and went inside in order to rest.

Inside the house everything was small, but so neat and clean that no one could say otherwise. There was a little table with a white tablecloth and seven little plates, and each plate had a spoon, and there were seven knives and forks and seven mugs as well. Against the wall there were seven little beds on the floor and covered with grey-white sheets.

Because she was so hungry and thirsty Snow-White ate a few vegetables and a little chicken feet from each little bowl, and from each glass she drank a drop of fake wine. Afterward, because she was so tired, she lay down on a bed and fell asleep.

After dark the masters of the house returned home. They were the seven runts who picked and dug recycleables in the mountain of rubbish the city generated daily. They lit their seven candles, and as soon as it was light in their house they saw that someone had been there, for not everything was in the same order as they had left it.

The first one said, “Who has been sitting on my stool?”

The second one, “Who has been eating from my bowl?”

The third one, “Who has been eating my delicious chicken feet?”

The fourth one, “Who has been eating my pickled vegetables?”

The fifth one, “Who has been using my chopsticks?”

The sixth one, “Who has been dipping into my sauce?”

The seventh one, “Who has been drinking from my glass?”

Then the first one saw a that there was a little imprint in his bed, and said, “Who stepped on my bed?”

The others came running up and shouted, “Someone has been lying in mine as well.”

But the seventh one, looking at his bed, found Snow-White lying there asleep. The seven dwarfs all came running up, and they cried out with amazement. They fetched their seven candles and shone the light on Snow-White. “Oh good heaven! Oh good heaven!” they cried. “This child is so beautiful!”

They jerked off for the full 30 seconds, and that did not wake her up, so they let her continue to sleep there in the bed. The seventh dwarf had to sleep with his companions, one hour with each one, with much vigourous tossing and more tossing, and then the night was done.

The next morning Snow-White woke up, and when she saw the seven runts she was frightened. But they were friendly and asked, “What is your name?”

“My name is Snow-White,” she answered.

“How did you find your way to our house?” the runts asked further.

Then she told them that her stepmother had tried to kill her, that the triad boss had spared her life, and that she had run the entire day, finally coming to their house.

The dwarfs said, “If you will keep house for us, and cook, make beds, wash, sew, and knit, and keep everything clean and orderly, then you can stay with us, and you shall have everything that you want, if everything that you want is a daily bowl of rice and a facial.”

“Yes,” said Snow-White, “with all my heart.”

So she was their maid. Every morning they went into the mountain of trash looking for whores and gold, and they would sing a little song:

“Buy Ho’s! Buy Ho’s! That’s why to work we go!”

In the evening when they came back home their meal had to be ready. During the day the girl was alone.

The runts warned her, saying, “Be careful about your stepmother. She will soon know that you are here. Do not let anyone in.”

Now the KTV princess, believing that she had eaten Snow-White’s delicious lungs and liver, could only think that she was again the first and the most beautiful woman of all. She stepped before her mirror and said:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

It answered:

You, my ho, are fair; it is true.
But Snow-White, beyond the mountains
With the seven runts,
Is still the one with the prettiest cunt.

This startled the queen, for she knew that the mirror did not lie, and she realized that the triad boss had deceived her, and that Snow-White was still alive. Then she thought, and thought again, how she could kill Snow-White, for as long as long as she was not the most beautiful woman in the entire land her envy would give her no rest.

At last she thought of something. Coloring her face, she disguised herself as an old peddler woman, so that no one would recognize her. In this disguise she went to the house of the seven runts. Knocking on the door she called out, “Beautiful wares for sale, for sale!”

Snow-White peered out the window and said, “Good day, dear woman, what do you have for sale?”

“Good wares, beautiful wares,” she answered. “Push-up, pull-together padded inflateable bras in all colors.” And she took out one that was braided from colorful silk. “Would you like this one?”

“I can let that honest woman in,” thought Snow-White, then unbolted the door and bought the pretty bra.

“Child,” said the old woman, “you look as if you now have a B cup! Come, let me lace you up properly.”

The unsuspecting Snow-White stood before her and let her do up the new bra, but the old woman pulled so quickly and so hard that Snow-White could not breathe.

“You used to be the most beautiful one,” said the old woman, and hurried away.

Not long afterward, in the evening time, the seven runts came home. How terrified they were when they saw their dear Snow-White lying on the ground, not moving at all, as though she were dead, knowing for sure the police would blame them and throw them into a labour camp, never to be heard from again. They lifted her up, and, seeing that she was too tightly laced, they cut the bra in two. Then she began to breathe a little, and little by little she came back to life.

When the runts heard what had happened they said, “The old peddler woman was no one else but the KTV princess. Take care and let no one in when we are not with you.”

When the wicked woman returned home she went to her mirror and asked:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

The mirror answered once again:

You, my ho, are fair; it is said.
But Snow-White, beyond the mountains
With the seven runts,
Is still the one that the local government officials want to fuck until they’re dead

When she heard that, she was mighty pissed off, because she knew that Snow-White had come back to life.

“This time,” she said, “I shall think of something that will destroy you.”

Then with the art of bitchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisoned comb. Then she disguised herself, taking the form of a different old woman. Thus she went across the mountains to the seven runts, knocked on the door, and called out, “Good wares for sale, for sale!”

Snow-White looked out and said, “Go on your way. I am not allowed to let anyone in.”

“You surely may take a look,” said the old woman, pulling out the poisoned comb and holding it up. The child liked it so much that she let herself be deceived, and she opened the door.

After haggling for two hours on the price, the old woman said, “Now let me comb your hair properly.”

She had barely stuck the comb into Snow-White’s hair when the poison took effect, and the girl fell down unconscious.

“You specimen of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “now you are finished.” And she walked away.

Fortunately it was almost evening, and the seven runts came home. When they saw Snow-White lying on the ground as if she were dead, they immediately suspected her stepmother. They examined her and found the poisoned comb. They had scarcely pulled it out when Snow-White came to herself again and told them what had happened. Once again they warned her to be on guard and not to open the door for anyone.

Back at home the queen stepped before her mirror and said:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

The mirror answered:

You, my ho, are fair; it is known.
But Snow-White, beyond the mountains
With the seven runts,
Is still the one the local police want to use to be blown.

When the queen heard Weixin saying this, she shook and trembled with anger, “Snow-White shall die,” she shouted, “if it costs me my life!”

Then she went into her most secret room and made a poisoned Apple iPhone 88s. From the outside it was beautiful, white with red trim, and anyone who saw it would want it. But anyone who might use it would die. Then, coloring her face, she disguised herself as a peasant woman, and thus went across the mountains to the seven runts. She knocked on the door.

Snow-White stuck her head out the window and said, “I am not allowed to let anyone in. The runts have forbidden me to do so.”

“That is all right with me,” answered the peasant woman. “I’ll easily get rid of my Apple iPhones. Here, I’ll give you one of them.”

“What?,” said Snow-White, “an iPhone 88s? I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll still have the latest useless fad that all my friends will envy even when I am buried.”

Snow-White longed for the beautiful Apple, and when she saw that the peasant woman was about to take a selfie, she stuck her hand out and took it. She had barely logged onto Weixin when she fell to the ground dead.

The KTV princess looked at her with a gruesome stare, laughed loudly, and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as tiles! This time the runts cannot awaken you.”

Back at home she asked her mirror:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

It finally answered:

You, my ho, are fairest of all.

She was so happy she ate some delicious duck head to celebrate.

When the runts came home that evening they found Snow-White lying on the ground. She was not breathing at all. She was dead. They lifted her up and looked for something poisonous. They undressed her and inspected her deeply and frequently. They combed her hair. They washed her with water and even used soap. But nothing helped as they dare not remove the all-revered apple from her hand. The dear child was dead, and she remained dead. They laid her on a bier, and all seven sat next to her and mourned for her and cried for three days. They burned paper spirit money to buy off the ho’s in heaven. They hired Sgt Peppers to play tuneless noise to ensure the whole suburb were as upset as they. They lit crackers and skyrockets to scare away the evil spirits and keep the local businesses in ho’s. They drove around in trucks with huge round thingies in the back to… err, do whatever it is that huge round thingies do to help dead people.

They were going to bury her, but she still looked as fresh as a living person, and still had her beautiful red cheeks.

They said, “We cannot bury her in the black earth,” and they had a transparent glass coffin made, so she could be seen from all sides, just like their dear Chairman Miao. They laid her inside, and with golden letters wrote on it her name, and that she was a KTV princess. Then they put the coffin outside on a mountain of trash, and one of them always stayed with it and whacked off over her. The animals too came and mourned for Snow-white, first a mangy dog, then a flea-bitten rat, and finally a pigeon with explosive diarrhea. A dove to love with a glove.

Snow-White lay there in the coffin a long, long time, and she did not decay, but looked like she was asleep, for she was still as white as snow and as red as blood, and as black-haired as roof tiles.

Now it came to pass that a useless, spoiled, only-child superbrat entered this area and happened onto the runts’ house. He saw the coffin on the mountain of rubbish with beautiful Snow-White in it, and he read the golden letters.

Then he said to the runts, “Let me have the coffin. I will give you anything you want for it.”

But the runts answered, “We will not sell it for all the tea in China.”

Then he said, “Then give it to me, for I cannot live without being able to see Snow-White. I will honor her and respect her as my most cherished one. A dead mistress cannot cheat on me!”

As he thus spoke, the good runts felt pity for him and gave him the coffin. The brat had his servants carry it away on their shoulders. But then it happened that one of them stumbled on some uneven pavement, and this dislodged from Snow-White’s hand the poisoned apple that she had used. Not long afterward she opened her eyes, lifted the lid from her coffin, sat up, and was alive again.

“Good heavens, where am I and what’s to eat?” she cried out.

The brat said joyfully, “You are with me.” He told her what had happened, and then said, “I love you more than anything else in the world, even though I only know your name, just because I had a good look at your a-cups. Come with me to my father’s castle. You shall become my wife.” Snow-White loved his money, and she went with him. Their wedding was planned with great splendor and majesty.

Snow-White’s stepmother was also invited to the delicious feast. After putting on her beautiful clothes she stepped before her mirror and said:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?

The mirror answered:

You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
But the young bint is a thousand times fairer than you.

The wicked woman uttered a curse, and did not know what to do, but she had to go and see the young gold-digger. When she arrived she recognized Snow-White, and terrifed, she could only stand there without moving.

So they put a pair of tiny iron shoes into burning coals. They were brought forth with tongs and placed before her. She was forced to drink delicious baijiu and then step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell down dead. Which one was more painful, is in doubt. This was most amusing and enjoyed by all.

– DaBizzare

Posted in Guest Post | 4 Comments »

Let Them Eat Shit

Posted by MyLaowai on Monday, May 5, 2014

Guest Post
I see it, but I don’t believe it. I thought my skin pretty thick by now, but the incessant claims that China invented everything is really starting to go too far.


Zhu Muzhi, president of the China Society for Human Rights Studies, claims the famous phrase “Let them eat cake” is an alteration of a much older, and of course Chinese, anecdote: “An ancient Chinese emperor who, being told that his subjects didn’t have enough rice to eat, replied, ‘Why don’t they eat meat?'” The phrase was attributed to Emperor Hui of Jin in Zizhi Tongjian.


In the 1700’s, there was obviously so much trade with China, that a phrase 1700 years old, and one none of us have heard in Mandarin nearly as common as the usage of the English translation of the original French meme, spread so prolifically that french peasants were repeating it. ROFLMAO!

I guess the China Society for Human Rights Studies thought if they called themselves The Society for Enforcing a China-Centric World their published works might not be so willingly consumed. Ever see My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Great film… and contains a character (the Greek father) who claims every word in the world comes from a Greek root. Reminds me of Zhu Muzhi…

It’s an unfortunate trend that is starting to pop up all over Wikipedia, now that they have decided to harmoniously unblock it from the Great Firewall. With their new requirement for disclaimers I imagine the talk page for the Eat cake entry would say something like “Zhu Muzhi: I work for the mob that requires China to be God, the one true creator of all.” Or would it? Sneaky bastards these Chinese…

This post was invented in China, just after the MyLaowai blog, 5000 years ago.

– DaBizzare

Posted in Censorship, Guest Post, History, Lies & Damned Lies | 4 Comments »

Chinese People Are Really Birds!

Posted by MyLaowai on Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Guest Post
Western researchers studying local populations in China are coming to the conclusion that Chinese people are not Homo Sapiens as previously thought, but actually an avian species. While correlation does not always indicate causation, the evidence gathered displays some remarkable similarities that bear further research.

1. They eat seeds, cracking them with their teeth and taking the kernel with their tongues.
2. They are happy to perch on almost any surface.
3. Very few can swim.
4. They are prone to making loud noises (especially in the morning).
5. They defecate on the road (or pretty much anywhere they feel like).
6. Their brains are very small.
7. They can’t drive.
8. Their diet consists mostly of seeds, nuts, fruit, carrion, entrails and insects.
9. They are migratory, returning to the spawning grounds in the spring.
10. Males are required to prepare a suitable nest before the female will mate.
11. Females rarely enjoy the act of mating, rather, they tolerate the situation in order to produce offspring.
12. Babies are not born live but as eggs from which the mature adult must peck their way out.
13. Like Bower Birds and Magpies, they are attracted to colourful and shiny objects.

From the behaviours observed, we can narrow the species down to either: parrot, magpie, jay or crow. Crows have the ability to solve problems, create and use tools and predict the outcome of events… so we can scratch crows off of the list. Parrot may be the best candidate. A parrot can repeat language without any conscious comprehension of what it’s actually saying. It is attracted to shiny objects, eats nuts, fruits and some species are known to eat animals and carrion. It also likes nothing more than it’s own reflection and would probably upload it’s beak to weixin daily (if it had the dexterity).

In summary, it appears that Chinese people may actually be a species of Psittacopasserae (Parrots).

Source: Collective effort from some inspired authors contributing to a thread on Reddit

– daPangzi

Posted in Guest Post | 16 Comments »

Happy New… What?

Posted by MyLaowai on Saturday, February 1, 2014

Okay, look. I’m busy as all get-out and when I have a few minutes free I’d really prefer to spend them masturbating, not enlightening idiots who think their pathetic excuse for a cuntry is the centre of anything. It isn’t even the centre of the toilet, because it’s already on the far side of the U-bend and still accelerating. So having to waste my valuable time on this is, well, quite frankly a waste of my valuable time.

But okay, for the record, officially, take note: It Isn’t Happy New Year.

Clear? Capisce? The year is determined by how long it takes for the Earth to orbit the Sun, not how long it takes for the Moon to orbit Peking. Fuck, in this day and age even kindergarten kids know that. And it’s why we have a thing called A Year. Ah, what the hell, just look at when us foreign chaps do our celebrating, and copy that. You seem to copy every damn thing else we apparently invent, like trousers and shoes and windows and streets and not living in caves, so follow the line on this one, right?

I really don’t give a numpties nonce if it is ‘traditional’ – that just means you haven’t the wit to live in the modern world. Cutting out people’s hearts was also traditional in some places, until us interfering white folks put a stop to it. See here for more information. Being traditional is only of use until such time as those traditions get in the way of what we like to refer to as ‘reality’. Like, for example, thinking that a Chinese baby that is newly hatched is actually a year old, or that you are another year older after so-called Chinese New Year. So that you end up with a fucking ten year old who is seven at best, and probably a thirty year old who is ten. Christ, you have no idea how much that pisses me off. Though it does explain the fucking childish levels of emotional maturity I see around me on a daily fucking basis. This is why I have a mortar set up on the roof and claymores embedded in the garden path. But, I digress.

As if celebrating the end of the year on a totally different date every year, as determined by the Emperor’s qi  and the motion of the moon (which you cunt’s still haven’t been to) around Peking, wasn’t bad enough, you also then celebrate the Money God. Yeah, the God that makes you rich by getting you to spend all your money on fireworks that make a noise and smoke and that’s it, no pretty displays or anything, Christ you people are fucking hopeless, you can’t even get fucking fireworks right, despite having lied about inventing them along with mountains, oxygen, and grass, dammit. Yeah, the smart Chinese businessman. Myth: Busted.

But hey, go on polluting the entire planet and eating anything that moves because of your disgusting famine-based cuisine, go on celebrating things that make as much sense as your fucking ping-pong-wing-wong language, keep on naming your kids after the sound of a tin bucket being thrown down a flight of stairs, keep on pretending that your cuntry is Very Mordern And Development, go on making ridiculous claims to ownership of things that are clearly owned by other, more civilised, people.

Just don’t do it around me.

I am now going to fire ten employees to celebrate New Year With Chinese Characteristics.

Wait, Year of the Horse, right? I’ll fire twenty.

Posted in Festivals et al | 9 Comments »

Sootilocks and the 1 Child Family

Posted by MyLaowai on Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Guest Post
A Classic Fairytale with Harmonious Chinese Characteristics.

by DaBizzare

Once upon a time, about 10 days ago, lived a little girl called Sootilocks. She was a very good little girl and did her homework 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Every 3 years her school would give her a day off, and this year she decided she would be the filial granddaughter and visit her grandma. On the way, she got lost, and being tired and hungry, she went into a nearby apartment. There was no-one home, but there was some delicious food on the table: excrement-stuffed cardboard buns called baozi, and to her, they were delicious.

There were three plates. She tried the first one, it was too hot. She tried the second one, it was too cold. She tried the third one, it tasted like crap, but she ate all three anyway because she was a filial confuscian.

Her legs were tired, so she wanted to sit down, and she saw three chairs. The first one was too big. The second one was too small. The third one had nails sticking into her bottom, but she hardly noticed as she was used to the local quality standards.

Then she wanted to have a sleep, so she went looking for beds. The first one was too hard. The second one was even harder. The third one was even harder again, but she went to sleep like a good little girl because that was what was always expected of her, and she was, if nothing else, the filial student.

While she was asleep, the occupants of the 60 square meter apartment returned: Daddy Monkey, Mommy Monkey and Baby Monkey. Daddy Monkey said “Someone has been eaten my baozi and spat on the table.” Mommy Monkey said “Someone was eaten my baozi, and sneezed on the table.” Baby Monkey said “Someone ated my baozi, and they ated it all up.” Grammar was not a strong point in this household.

Then Daddy saw his chair. “Someone has been sat in my chair.”. Mommy said “Someone was sat in my chair.” Baby said “Someone was satted in my chair, and blooded all over it!”

Then the three monkeys went to go to bed. “Someone has been slept in my bed” said Daddy Monkey. “Someone sleepered in my bed too” said Mommy Monkey. “Someone slepted in my bed, AND THEY ARE YET THERE!!!” cried Baby Monkey.

The three Monkeys cooked Sootilocks and made delicious baozi from her that they sold to their neighbours for many weeks.


Posted in Guest Post | 30 Comments »

Merry Christmas. Again.

Posted by MyLaowai on Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Right, so it’s Christmas time back in the civilised world. Lucky you. I imagine you are enjoying being with people who don’t want to steal everything you own and then expel you. Or who don’t look at your pets with recipes in mind. You may even have received gifts, or have given them away yourselves. I can only imagine how nice that must be. What’s the weather like there? Winter or summer, I bet you can at least see the far side of the street without the smog getting in the way, right? Of course, it’s not easy for everyone at Christmas time – many families will have people in the armed forces away, for example. But look on the bright side: at least they are not about to go to war with Japan / the Philippines / Taiwan / Vietnam / India / Malaysia / Australia / the United States.

In China of course, everything is wonderful. The glorious Party and the magnificent and ancient Culture of mighty China lend, as always, a certain special majesty to anything and everything, and nothing is more improved by exposure to Chinese culture than poorly Western rituals that are a mere shadow of truly important Chinese festivals. Like, um, the one about eating dumplings. Or the other one about eating other dumplings for a different reason. Oh yeah, We All Love China. There’s a special word for how much we all love China, and that word is ‘Bollocks’ [note to censors: ‘Bollocks’ means ‘masculine’, sort of].

I wish I was in Taiwan.

Merry Christmas from all of us here at MLHQ. You, our readers, we do love. We’ll try to spend more time with you all next year.

Xmas Girls

Posted in Festivals et al | Tagged: , | 11 Comments »

Ching Ching, Qingdao

Posted by MyLaowai on Saturday, November 23, 2013

Guest Post
Got a gas problem? Too many pickled eggs maybe?

One of the most dangerous places on the face of the planet has to be Qingdao, or Tsingdao, depending on which epoch you choose to come from. [Ed: It’s Tsingdao, unless you come from Peking]

Most expats in China would probably recognize the latter, not the former, due to their daily consumption of the watered-down rats-piss exported from the German settlement that passes as beer everywhere else.

For all you others: the place where the Olympic sailing races were held.

Yeah – the algae bloom landing zone.

Before this week, it was dangerous enough. China’s nuclear submarine base is but a few Km north under the mountain that drove many Chinese emperors to send their subjects to Korea in search of the mystic floating islands that can be viewed from Penglai pavilion (Mirage).

Oh yes, that place. The one that had the massive oil slick from Chinese-quality offshore oil drilling. Mmmm. One of the most unhealthiest beaches in the world. No golden sand. No waves. Plenty of pollution. But really good beer.

Whoa. Hang on. Can we derive a causative effect here? Qingdao is an ongoing cluster-fuck, and also has (locally only) some of the best beer in China.

Yes, this week, an oil pipeline blew up. Where? Under a main road. WHAT THE FUCK? Which country in their right mind places a major oil pipeline from the drilling site to the refinery UNDER A MAIN ROAD? Let alone the residences, businesses etc it also passes under.

China. land of the long yellow shortcut.

– Da Bizzare

Posted in Environment, Guest Post, Newsflash, Propaganda | Tagged: , | 2 Comments »

China Dolls

Posted by MyLaowai on Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Brace yourselves, because this doesn’t happen often. I am about to defend something in China.

In recent days, a Chinese seller of Chinese sex dolls in China has been persecuted by some angst-ridden fucktards whose parents obviously never taught them to mind their own fucking business, and those dolls are no longer for sale.

The hate-mongering wanksocks who orchestrated the anti-free market and anti-consumer choice campaign against this purveyor of marital aids were, of course, American. From New Jersey, no less. Fuck, I can feel the bile rising in my throat already. The founder of the anti-freedom organisation responsible, one Kelly Master, is someone I have fortunately never had the misfortune to meet, and I’ve been bruising my knees praying to a fictitious God that I never do. That said, she is no doubt the kind of dried-up minge who thinks Emily Brontë is far too racy for young girls to be exposed to. She no doubt firmly supports a complete ban on the eating of bananas, on account of how sexually suggestive that can be. She obviously has cobwebs in her cooch, too.

I mean, seriously? It’s a sex doll. It’s not like it’s going to run about the world telling everyone else how they should live and drop bombs on some poor fucking village from a Predator drone, or force people into ‘stress positions’ until they confess to believing in the wrong imaginary God or whatever. It’s. Just. A. Sex. Doll. Get a fucking life already Kelly. It’s less real than my right hand. It’s the same real as a coffee cup. A coffee cup doesn’t make most folks turn to pedophilia, not even the ones filled with Starbucks coffee.

Here’s what the doll looks like:

As you can observe, it has the same expression that every middle-aged Chinese woman has. It has the same body shape too. Same hairstyle, same lifeless eyes, same fashion sense. Obviously, it is a recreation in plastic and latex of a middle-aged Chinese woman.

I haven’t the faintest fucking idea why anyone would want to buy one of these things. It’ll be no better to have sex with than any other Chinese woman, though to be fair it is unlikely to be any worse, either. But thanks to you, Kelly Master, you moistureless, wizened skank, thanks to you I am going to buy one of these dolls. I am going to install it permanently in the passenger seat of the Aston. And I shall put up a little sign next to it, that reads:

“At Least This Bitch Knows How To Mind Her Own Fucking Business”.

Have a nice day folks. I’ve got people to fire.

Posted in Ask MyLaowai, Censorship | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

Ren & the Art of Mechanical Maintenance

Posted by MyLaowai on Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Guest Post

How to be a Great Chinese Mechanic

So you want to be a great Chinese mechanic? Your dream is easier than you can imagine. In just a few short paragraphs I will educate you in the way of motorcycle repair in China and set you on the way to a career of inflicting frustration and despair on anyone that is suckered into your shop, while ridiculously over-billing them for shoddy work. The good news is you’re almost halfway towards the goal already! Just answer these 3 simple questions:

1) Are you a Chinese man?
2) Do you like to get involved in activities that you don’t understand?
3) Do you own a hammer?

If you answered “yes” to those 3, you’re well on the way! Why, you’re practically already a mechanic, you just need a filthy, grease stained patch of dirt to work on and you can start ruining people’s machinery. But keep reading and let me show you the path to mechanical greatness.

“But wait”, you whine in your plaintive, weedy voice, “I really don’t know anything about fixing motorcycles, I’m hardly able to identify the gas tank 2 times out of 3…” Don’t fret little man, let me introduce the concept of “job shopping” to make your career problem free.

Job shopping is when a customer brings in a machine you’re not familiar with or asks for a repair you don’t understand, like replacing a lightbulb. Your first task is to assure the customer that you can handle this repair, it’s no trouble at all and you have every confidence it can be done in a few hours. Do your best to wrangle some money from the customer “to buy parts” and set a good fat price for completion; plead poverty, duress and how difficult the job will be, squeeze him like a grape. Then, once the customer is out of sight, find someone that can actually do the job; maybe a bigger shop down the road? Maybe your drunken uncle? Maybe a random member of the idle crowd loitering about your shop? Whoever, it really doesn’t matter. Get a firm price from them and negotiate mercilessly, every RMB they get is basically stealing from you, so fight hard. They don’t have to do a good job, assure them that the customer will never meet them, so they can just rush through it with used parts and it won’t matter. Get the repairs done and get the bike back to the customer. It’s best if you drop it off, so he won’t have time to check it over before you disappear. Get the money from him and beat feet. When the shoddy work falls apart in a day and if the customer comes back to you, plead ignorance, it isn’t your fault the other guy did a crap job. Job shopping is the express train to success!

The thing to remember to be truly great is that your time is worthless. Of course, as a Chinese man, any time not spent drunk or in the company of underage whores is just wasted, and if you’re at your “garage” you’re basically just hanging out and killing time. Since you can’t bill the customer for labor, the only way to make money in the mechanic game is to charge inflated prices for parts. So if a customer comes in with a blown head gasket, fuck that guy. It’s 2 hours of labor for a RMB$5 part. But a customer with a blown starter is money in the bank! Starters take all of 5 minutes to change and you can charge what you want, once his bike is in pieces. The best part is that you can rewind an old starter and slap that in, no need to buy a new one, but make sure you charge like it’s made of gold and blessed by GuanYin. Sure the replacement starter will fail in a week, but who cares? The customer will be long gone by then. And if he isn’t, it’s a chance to upsell him on a new starter!

A good mechanic repairs a motorcycle once, a great mechanic can make a career of repairing the same bike once, over a period of months. The secret is to screw up something that will make the bike come back later. The best way is to use the secret Shaolin mechanic technique known as “Chinklok”. When something needs to be tightened, a nut or bolt, stupid Western mechanics will just tighten it, maybe they’ll put some bizarre goop called Threadlok or a lockwasher on it to stop it from falling off. But that’s hardly the way of the great Chinese mechanic! Where’s the job security in that? No, the Chinese way is to tighten it until it just feels snug, then give it 3 quick turns. This strips the threads and guarantees it’ll fall off in a few days. Even if the bike doesn’t come back to you, it’ll have to go to another mechanic. When we all work together like this, we all profit. So don’t forget to Chinklok all the nuts and bolts!

Tools are an important part of being a great mechanic and you should treat them right. The instant you’re done with a particular tool, open your hand and let it fall to the filthy floor. There’s nothing more satisfying then hearing the “clang” of a precision instrument bouncing off a delicate part. That’s the sound of job security, as it’s hardly your fault the customers stupid carburator was under your hammer. More parts = more money!

It may be that a motorcycle comes to your shop that looks like it might be a challenge. Maybe a foreigner pushes his bike to your door, maybe it comes in on the bed of a tractor. This spells trouble! Foreigners are bad news, they expect repairs to last more than 20 minutes and their mechanic to not be a lying sack of shit. As a Chinese mechanic, that’s impossible. Better to brush him off and send him elsewhere. Try not looking at him while waving your fat little hand in his general direction. Don’t speak to him, just look away and grunt. If he insists on you working on the bike (maybe by bad luck you’re the only shop in 40km) tell him you’ve never seen one like it and can’t promise anything (even if it is identical to every other bike you have ever seen). Try to convince him that what he’s asking for is either a) totally trivial and not necessary or b) impossibly difficult and beyond the ken of man. Best is to claim both things at once, that should discourage him enough to go elsewhere.

So now you’re on the path to greatness! Remember: job shop, re-use parts, Chinklok and refuse anything difficult. Soon you’ll be known as a great Chinese mechanic!

Posted in Guest Post | 4 Comments »


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