Temporary Casts, Permanent Mental Scars

In the past future, I fractured a piece of my hand. Of course, on Sunday's the OutPatient Care Unit is closed in Chinese hospitals. So...to the ER. To put it lightly, the ER is like a deleted scene from Jacob's Ladder. Blood, yelling, bones, general chaos and no one waits in line. They just yell and run. And yell.

I had a great conversation with with an older man.

Older Man: In America, everyone is rich. Everyone has two cars and a job.

Me: Wow. That sounds amazing where is that America?

Older Man: What?

Me: Huh?

Brew From the Roof of the World

Impromptu Naugahyde Bubble Bath

In the time of Me, kids totally haul ass on aerodynamic pedaling water bikes. They don't listen to their mother's and they certainly do not play dolls with kid sister.

This specimen in particular, hauled around like a Calgary cowboy on one of them angry bulls for a few laps and when he tired out he spotted a squirrel.



Then he started crying because he got his shoes wet. I threw some more water on him and got tackled by his father who fractured my hand. I do not regret a thing.

My advice is don't wear high heels if you're going to throw water on a kid.

The Dawning of a PG-13 Era

I was doing a little futuristic housecleaning this week and decided that perhaps I should remove the sign in front of my home. I never really understood all the offers I had been getting, but they were much appreciated.

I'll be selling the sign to the highest bidder.

Bravaria's Own Joie de Vivre

In your past future, commercial actors who are to be English are actually German and ended up sounding French.

The lesson learned: You can lead a cat to water, but you can't get milk from a butcher.

High Brow Monotony for the Masses

In futuristic societies such as mine, art gallery security guards fall asleep on the job. Dozing off because of the mind piercing sulfites in the horrible wine, guys in girlpants and the thick clouds of pretension. Once asleep they become another piece in the gallery. Art imitates life. Life becomes art.

None of this really matters because we have flying cars.

Fight the Urge to Punt the Small Fuzzy Dogs.

In the future, small dogs run wild and fend for themselves through non-violent means. The easiest way of dealing with these ankle biters is by ALWAYS carrying a large bag of mutton properly seasoned with caraway and molasses.

They sense that you want to punt them. Do not think about punting them.

Age Old Wisdom.

I saw this man sitting contemplatively. I approached him and asked what the one thing is he wishes he would have known in hindsight.

He looked at me and said, "My friend life is full of observations and experiences, but know the Wu Tang Clan ain't nothing to fuck with."

If you run out of power. Start a fire.

Eating Donkey to Help Build Your Team.

Long ago in your past future, the creative department ventured two hours north of Beijing into the Qin Mountains in search of booze soaked laughs and something we were not yet sure of. This is our trusty bus fully loaded with plenty of delicious freon and subtitled films.



Our mission was to get to know each other a bit better in hopes that we'd all integrate more. There were 6 "Westerners" and about 40 Chinese creatives, as well as some assorted bosses. It was a creative retreat!

This is Bitey. The village mascot.



He will shred a soccer ball in under a minute and he would like to eat each and every one of us.

The highlight of our futuristic weekend was our first meal on Saturday. We were all sufficiently nauseous from a night of "ganbei" or drink everything in your fucking glass. Whether it's beer, bai jo (some horrible Chinese wine booze) or red wine you just drink it all in one gulp. If you don't want to, it doesn't matter. If you're too drunk, it doesn't matter. They sure know how to party!



There were green things, crunchy things, fishy things, eggy things, meats that I knew about and a couple that I didn't. The only thing to do when you don't know what meat it is...is eat it. This time it ended up being donkey! Yay! Check that one off of my list. Donkey tastes just as you think it would. A bit stringy, tough and gamey.

Here's the donkey delivery man!



Martin and company man Salvatore fought over the remaining donkey bits.



After our donkey meal, we had no choice but to drink the day away.



And blow things up with a bazooka.



CLICK HERE FOR MORE BEIJING FOOD STORIES

A Faint Mysterious Mist

In your future which is now our past, this woman wondered what I was staring at.

Not Quite Illegal.

In the future, I became a legal Chinese citizen again. It was all pretty anti-climatic, although I did almost step in some human feces in the hutong on the way to the police station.

I guess, I'll have to wait a few more months before I can have my 2008 Deportation Dance Party.

MORE ABOUT THE FUTURE:

It will be rainy and smoggy. I recommend taking the rickshaw to work. Go with your instincts on the tuna sandwich. You won't regret it.