Archive for the 'Hong Kong' Category


A tough nut

less than 200 years old and would probably take at least a 1/4 of that to long to crack it

so I’ll keep simple

and help you avoid getting sucked into the spin I’m in.

Wan Chai // Great barbeque and dope old buildings

Admiralty // Whatever

Tsim Tsai Tsu // Tourists and the primarily Arab hustlers that prey on them. If you want to buy hash and a Rolex, I know just where to take you.

Central // a billionaire dog and pony show. Lamborghinis and douchebags courting models with helicopter rides and Fendi. big yawn.

Crib’s in Mong Kok.

That’s where I spend most of my time.

where people float inside cubes stacked like dilapidating jenga blocks, a kind of inside physics joke.

The walls are liquifying. The air is 3 feet thick.

Some streets smell like a drug even I’d be scared to try.

Why don’t I see any bugs?

At night, the neon light turns the bay fog into cotton candy clouds.

Decay and crumble…

steel and glass.

The wind is electric. Open your mouth and get the tip of a Duracell.

Why hasn’t the whole thing burned down yet?

Motherfucker’s on fire.

The young they gather in mass in public places practically 24/7. Mingle amongst their own.

Kowloon // Midnight from Sleep Never on Vimeo.

They are engaged.

This is action.

There is a sense of contentment


autonomy and class I get from Chinese Hong Kongers

family, honor, respect,

good conversation is held sacred.

the men

I see…

ancient ones, froggering out into traffic. they don’t have time to wait for a break to get to the other side.

sitting and watching, but not waiting.

whatever it is I’m looking for, they already seem to have found it.

16 year olds in 3,000 suits that probably cost 200 here, who speak better English than me and drive shit I’ll never afford. I see skaters, punks, Goths and rockers, preps and lots of shirtless old dudes who look just as cool as the kids.

I see women, old and frail. some in masks. some limping and smiling. Some smoking while they cook up a typhoon in a wok.

Pictures of wisdom in wheelchairs and slippers.

many of the young ones

hold hands

some dress like sailors when they go to school

others dress like young American women - lot’s of tits and legs, and not for you sir.

I can’t count the white dudes on one hand that I see in the course of a day here.

And by us, these chinese hong kongers want to be left alone, because it seems just when they get comfortable, motherfuckers come and stir up shit.

the brits

the japs

the brits again.

and then the Chinese.

gotta hold onto what the few things that never change, the things that truly matter, and we don’t fit into that category.

the only people who seem to be remotely interested in the gawkey white dude in the palladium boots and perv stash are teenage girls who’ve seen nothing and 90 year old men who’ve seen it all.

but for the most part I am a ghost here and it only makes me feel more at home.

videos for this trip are scarce so far, but the pictures plentiful as I stumbled upon an episode of this asshole bobby chin


taking a restaurant tour around india while annoying the shit out of the locals – he thought he was hilarious – them not so much - and decided to put the video on hold in an attempt to blend better.

this is about how well I did.

laundry day

is every day here.

i visited a flesh peddler

but opted for a banana instead

watched a show where people play video games and afterward. a live human does a post-game interview with the avatar of the winning gamer about their performance during the game.

saw a Chinese trampolene competition and two men use another man as a human jump rope, but this guy was more interesting to watch


midnight snack

and midnight lunch ladies responsible for making it

just like hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy says: “A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.” (It was either this or a baby blue one with Chinese cartoon teddy bear on it. )

I did not go here.






pig out on reclamation street

the action as it happens

Hong Kong // Pig Out on Reclamation Street from Sleep Never on Vimeo.

my morning plum connect.

same contractor as the flintstones


scout’s honor

my savior. the reason you can read this. in the spirit of globalization, he provided the necessary tools to daisy chain electrical adapters to run a current around the world and right back to my mac in hong kong.

double dragon

stoked to be getting a fabulous deal on knockoff ed hardy.

kind of like an all-you-can-eat sea world


captain phil’s replacement?

he’s already got a local fanbase.

some guys just got it.




lunch break

I did not write this in the guest book of my hotel.

for dr. hughes

vader’s crib

Now why didn’t I think of that?!

what I’ll be riding after this trip.

dinner two

these guys are wild. must’ve seen them eat 5 pork bowls and a drink a six pack each in my short time there.

this is the small. people watched and laughed while I attempted to conquer it (out of respect) with a big stupid shiteating grin on my face.

a futile and valiant attempt

this chair deserves to have a song written about it by r. Kelly.


chicks with dick

babies and gas

sitting room only


candy men

round house

black guys in skin

dicks in robes

here they are getting into a fracas with the singer of Sum 41

Untitled from Sleep Never on Vimeo.

went to the hong kong history museum. it was like me and this dude.

no really… it was just us and security.

inside there was a lifesize model of a “boat person’s” junk

with some pasty old lady inside.

some crazy looking gods

an freaky opra scene

some creepy puppets

a towers of buns

and a scale model of the good/bad move that got them colonized for realz

hong kong history lesson hint: the hubbub started over something you smoked it in this.

the original dicks…

me and the muslim chillin’ in Kowloon park post-history

wong kar wai – tsi tsam tsu

Kowloon, nevada

everything looks familiar

nothing looks familiar

banksy found

this dude is everywhere

last supper – by bourdain’s suggestion (notice the mask on the chef)

Lemonade. Mad respect.

The reincarnation of Buddy Holly (and his magic 1/2 purple dog)

symphony of lights: as stunning as it is terrifying. a crazy laser show put on by corporate titans of the world to distract you while they wrap the chains around your shopping zombie hands.

and all of this exists because a long time ago some power mad man boys started a scuffle over some dope.

crazy, no?

onward ho…


Listening to: Caribou “Swim,” MIA “Kala,” Radiohead “Hail to the Thief,” tribal drums, loud chinese, The Beatles “Revolver,” soft chinese, The Horrors “Primary Colours,” my order being shouted out, Julian Casablancas “Phrazes for the Young,” bad Chinese pop, Animal Collective “Merriweather Post Pavilion,” the neighbors building and walling a city inside their apartment at 5:45 in the morning, Love is All “Two Thousand and Ten Injuries,” horns, lots of horns, definitely not silence, and LCD Soundsystem “This is Happening”