“In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”

Thus spoke Benjamin Franklin. A wise man, but a man whose vision failed to have the foresight to predict Walt Disney: a man whose cryogenically frozen husk continues to this day to cheat both the Grim Reaper and the Taxman.

To that list of inevitable certainties, Mr. Franklin should also have added being judged by others. And for a man who liked to spend most of his free time wearing tights and getting struck by lightning, this is something he should have known firsthand. No matter what we do in life, no matter how we choose to conduct ourselves, someone, somewhere, will always have something disapproving to say. Take last week for example: I was innocently forcing a glass coke bottle up my seven year old boyfriend’s arse in a public park, when some narrow minded idiot felt the need to come along and tut his disapproval. It wasn’t my fault that he preferred Pepsi to Coke, but how was I to know? Live and let live, that’s what I say.
That said, primarily because I’m deliberately slacking off from work today after my boss decided to cancel my pre-booked holiday, I’m about to pass judgement myself. For today I will ask that age-old question which man has been asking since the gnu:-

Which is better? Chinese Food or Actual Human Shit?

There are two ways of deciding. Evaluate the taste of the aforementioned items, and evaluate their nutritional value.

Taste: Actual Human Shit has been renowned for generations for its diversity and flavour-range. The watery mid-morning green splashes of a middle aged alcoholic Scotsman can be compared to the delightful and piquant aperitifs of Southern France; whilst the sturdier, solid, black poos of a Guinness based diet are ideal warm, comforting, family fillers in countries with colder climates. Little indigestible treats can also be found in most deposits, like sweetcorn nuggets and peanuts, which only add to the smorgasbord of flavours that can be found in most lavatories.
On the surface, Chinese food also appears to have an astonishing range of taste sensations, ranging from sweet, to sour, to sweet and sour. However, though menus in restaurants with names like Joy Luck Dragon House promise much, the constant onslaught of chicken, pork, noodles, dumplings, monkey brains and civet cats all surprisingly contain the same taste of greasiness and rottenness that can only normally be found in expired Brylcreem.

Safety: As Bruce Willis pointed out in Fast Food Nation: “We all have to eat some shit now and again.” You know where you stand with Actual Human Shit, as long as you don’t play with it and then touch your eyes you’ll probably be alright, and even if you do go blind, you probably don’t want to be looking at your excre-meal anyway. We eat the falling produce of chickens’ arses, so why not our own? Let’s face it; if you’ve ever eaten any form of vegetable or processed meat in your life, you’re probably a regular eater of Actual Human Shit already. However, the product may contain nuts, so those with peanut allergies should exercise caution.
It wouldn’t be just caution you’d have to exercise if you decided to eat Chinese food, but your right to be sectioned under the 1981 Mental Health Act too. As of the last check, eating Chinese food or food made in China can lead to SARS, Bird Flu, Sudan Red, melamine overdose, MSG induced cancer, mouth ulcers, baby death, malnutrition, diarrhoea, lead poisoning, salmonella, and the full alphabet of Hepatitii. Not only that, but eating Chinese food alongside actual Chinese people can even lead to manic depression, existential crises and brain melting. Quite frankly, you’d be better off eating arsenic.

So, it looks like a clear victory for Actual Human Shit over Chinese food. Alas, it is, however, a Pyrrhic Victory. You see, Actual Human Shit and Chinese food are intrinsically linked in a Lion King-esque circle of life. In order to produce the Actual Human Shit we want to eat, we must unfortunately consume Chinese food, which in turn contains Actual Human Shit. Thus, the cycle perpetuates for eternity. Interestingly, the same model can be used for Chinese political thought: we would all much rather read MyLaowai’s enlightened treatises on 21st century China, which in turn generates absolute bollocks from angry Chinese youths, who ironically provide the inspiration for more online bonmots.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this discussion on shit versus shovel. I’m off to cook myself a Brown Trout, have a great week.

– Meursault

This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none,
And this little piggy looked at the next two little piggies and… um…
…and said: “Laurence-Moon-Bardet-Biedl syndrome is very lucky”

Breaking Story: Chinese Ministry of Seasons Declares it’s Still Winter

Despite temperatures as high as 76°F (24°C) last week, the Ministry of Seasons has indeed declared that the season continues to be winter. Locals across Shanghai are sighing, as they don their double and triple layers and thick coats & jackets once again for yet another week. Xue Shangdi, Vice Minister cites reliable sources for this decision, but refused to go into details.

Anonymous sources from the MoS, however, cite foreign influence in this decision, naming a relatively unknown entity only known as Philip of Punxsutawney. Philip seems to have ties with an underground movement in Pennsylvania, but up until this revelation, it was unknown what his affiliations were.

“It’s obvious now. Phil is indeed a communist.” says a Punxsutawney native. “He was always such a delightful chap, too.”

This revelation has also caused a stir among overseas Chinese as well. “We love our country! We really do!” says Yang Mei Mei, an overseas student. “But seriously! We’re in Melbourne! It’s like 35° here! Do we really have to wear sweaters?!”

“YES” says the Ministry of Seasons. Citing national patriotism and a need to remain in control, it was suggested that ALL Chinese must continue to stand as one and adopt the “It’s winter! You NEED layers!” policy.

On an unrelated note, the Minstry of Time continues to disavow any knowledge of Time Zones.

– SinoPenn

.

Toothpaste for Dinner

Now that the weather is warming up, garbage is beginning to rot once more in alleyways and on footpaths all across the Land, and the streets are again becoming open latrines for the vast, sweating mass of the People. As a result of this, we are about to witness the annual return of one of God’s more abominable creations: the fly. I hate flies, really I do. And mosquitoes, I absolutely detest mosquitoes.

Which is why every year around this time I invest in a new Jamboy.

The Jam Boy was first introduced as early as the 1800s when the British Empire occupied India. When the British gentry went to play golf, they would have two men, the caddy and a Jam Boy.

The Jam Boys sole purpose was to keep the mosquitoes away from the golfer. To do this, the Jam Boy would cover himself in Jam to attract the mosquitoes away from the players. When the game was over the Jam Boy got to keep the jam he was wearing to take home to his family.

The Jamboy is a simple enough concept, and one which has proven to be both cost-effective and highly efficient. I honestly do appreciate my Jamboy more than words can ever express, and I heartily recommend you make yourself one, too.

First up, you will need to find yourself a suitable boy. Not just any boy will do – he needs to be small enough that he doesn’t block your view of the scenery when you are sitting down enjoying a gin and tonic, he needs to be just undernourished enough that he will stand still without fidgeting, and he needs to be able to keep silent so as not to disturb you, your family, or any guests you may be entertaining. One like this should do nicely:

And let us not forget the jam. The secret to a good jam is to find one that is both sticky and sweet. I prefer strawberry jam, which Mrs Laowai makes herself, because the basic ingredients are so easily obtained (remember to use plenty of pectin!):

The next step is to smear the jam over the boy. It is important to remember not to get any in his eyes, or near his mouth where he might be tempted to eat it. I find that the hair is the best place for it, and I always use a generous amount. We wouldn’t want any flies to escape, would we? Here’s the one I made last year:

Finally, please remember the we foreigners are guests in this country, and as such we should show generosity towards our hosts by allowing the Jamboy to keep any jam that is remaining on his head at the end of the day. It’s only fair.

I hope you enjoy a summer that is fly and mosquito free – I know I will.