Tag Archive | Hong Kong domestic Help

Judgemental troll comments on ex-pats


So…. I am a HUGE hater of bullying.


I have always, ALWAYS, considered myself to be kind and decent to people. I can’t even stomach witnessing someone being verbally bullied in an adult environment, let alone kids playground (same thing to be fair).

Bullies are (in my opinion before you comment/go mad & attempt to sue me for a comment “Bullies Not R Us”) weak, struggling personally, and allow their own insecurities to lash out at others. They don’t appear capable of accepting other peoples happiness and lives.  They like to “put you down” and upset your emotional confidence.

Therefore…I have done something, I’ve never, ever, done since starting this site.

reacted to an Internet troll who attacked the Ex-pat way of life.  Yes, I DEFENDED EX PAT LIFE. Madness.

I apologise in advance, before you read this, for sounding like a complete hypocrite. I just cant help but get infuriated at comments that are made, simply to antagonise, get a reaction (this one did), and…to be fair… if people can pass judgement on who I am, why the hell can’t I fight back?!


FYI – HK ID card from Wikipedia added above to make my barrage of words look less “wordy” and more visual too. NB. There is NO WAY the bird in the photo above is born in 1968!?

Anyway….going back to Interet Trolls and random, unknowing, judgemental comments that I’m sure more Bloggers are used to by now.  I however, am not.  I like to be “liked”! Its nice to be thought of in a good way.  However, I dont like to be “judged” or “bullied”. Nope, never happening.

Sooo….please see a charming “internet trolls” comment below.

“Cheri’s Comment” (again, below!)….was one, and only one, brief, pathetic, sentence.  While I’m almost sorry for acting like a sanctimonious bellend, sometimes its necessary to verbally slap a bully.  AND, I just couldn’t help myself this time. I tried to leave it….honest!

Comment made by Cheri…. “CHEER THE FUCK UP AND BE GRATEFUL”.


“Dear CHERI (your name screams Vegas stripper btw)…

The fact you’ve, somehow, in your troll-like state of mind, stumbled through the maze of internet search engines (shocking you can spell) to get to my blog…surprises me.

Normally I encourage those less able, yet you’ve excelled in finding my site, AND passing comment. Not only have you unfortunately attempted to undermine me, but your comment, which I’ve actually accidentally overlooked for a while (due to the amount of NICE comments I filter through) was, I have to admit, amusing as hell!  Its almost like being attacked in the playground by a 6 year old boy (normally with a “Mohawk” haircut), keen to get a response, and out of pity, I’ve now decided to give you one (a response that is).

I’m guessing you were a lonely (despite “trying soo hard to have friends”), heavily moustached, possibly thin/thick set, lone, bully at school, no friends, experiencing issues with social inadequacy, lack of confidence and probably some form of body dysmorphic disorder (google it luv).

You may also have had Middle child syndrome (although you’re probably an only child, lets face it as I’m a “middle child” and LOVE that excuse alone to guilt my family into doing stuff for me!)? You are generally internally angry due to your possible, open, vile, toxic internal contempt, and disgusting inability to connect with other human beings? You HAVE tried to make good friends but people just seem to….hmmm….DISLIKE you for some reason?  Your family pets probably recoil and hid behind furniture whenever you walked in the front door…they already knew the tragedy you were/would inevitably become. I bet you attempted to be good at maths (or chess) due to the solitude that gave you, away from socialising with people in general, therefore making you unattractive in all other areas of your life because you lacked anything remotely kind within yourself. I’m also guessing any form of human interaction that’s fun or involves laughter breaks you out in an uncomfortable sweat? Whatever your very clear personal lack of mind-set is/was/will always be….I HATE BULLIES SOO MUCH and I’m soooo grateful, you sent me such a trivial, albeit, quite disappointing, remark.

YOU have taken the time, in your obviously important nirvana like state/life, to comment in a vacuous, undercut, insolent manner (google the words as I cant possibly imagine you appreciate the meaning of anything Ive said). You have read a few segments, of a strangers blog, then judged all of us Hong Kong ex-pats on our lives.

WHO TOLD YOU TO KEEP READING?? Why didn’t you just flick onto your normal bestiality website and leave normal discussion, to like-minded, good people?

Your plain, meaningless (attacking) comment means what? Exactly? We should be ashamed we don’t/didn’t enjoy the luxurious, tax haven we lived in? Are we not allowed to comment on anything, in case we appear ungrateful and elitist?

Do you think your brief rude, attempt to patronise, will have ANY lasting impact? Which, yes, I know its ironic that I’ve taken the time to respond now…. BUT…the only reason being…you’ve just demonstrated a massive component in why ex-pats are struggling (especially stay-at-home parents) with their new lives abroad.  YOUR judgement, and “CHEER THE FUCK UP” mentality, is a clear issue in the ex-pat community and has created an obvious divide in peoples thoughts when talking about the “Gweilo” way of life.

You’re a “hater”.

A pissed of human either:-

(a) working and annoyed your spouse isn’t…yet still hitting Wan Chai nightly for copious amounts of booze, lap dances and ego stroking.

(b) Not working, and just trying to create conversation as you’ve got no friends aside from your helper (& lets be honest, she’s plotting her escape back to the Philippines/an Chai/Half Way House/Your husbands “Lock Up”, as I write).

(c) You don’t even live in SE Asia but like to antagonise and pass judgement simply because you’ve got nothing better to do as youre out in the countryside somewhere milking cows, or catching buses and feeling angered by our blatant disregard for what should be “happiness”.

(d) You’re a Helper…. kicking off with verbal abuse simply because “Maam” asked you why you were having a swim (in her swimsuit & 5 carat diamond earrings) at 11am, when clearly an 8 month old child had been left alone, to fend for themselves on the 80th floor of their block. But as you feel, shes such a RICH BITCH Ex-pat, you turn her frustration into Middle Class guilt, and blatantly pretend you don’t understand “what the problem is M’aam”. Therefore, alas, your employer lets you have a swim while she rushes off to make you lunch to show how “cool and unaffected” she is/hoping a real trusting friendship will finally begin….since you do look after her child ‘n all. You already have decided all Gweilos are “spoilt” and will punish anyone who crosses your path.

(e) You’re a man AKA you posses a Penis, pretending to be called “Cheri”…in which case…genius, and thanks for the content in any event.

This site has, and was, started, simply to express my take on life in Hong Kong. You do KNOW that people who write books, talk, teach, preach, and follow a religion, ALL HAVE A RIGHT to do that? This site has an open approach to like-minded, NORMAL, people who are free to feel as they chose.

Your attempt…albeit sooo pathetically put in a childish attack to disparage what ex-pats are feeling, just because YOU feel we should “CHEER THE FUCK UP AND BE GRATEFUL”, illustrates SO CLEARLY, what a closed-minded idiot you are. ITS YOUR KIND THAT IS CREATING ISSUES FOR HUMBLE, NICE PEOPLE, trying to get some form of real perspective on Ex-pat life.

Who made you the Preacher of what Ex-pats should/shouldn’t feel? And who gave YOU permission to judge me, or ANY ex-pat on how we are living?? It is YOUR sort, with your pre-judgement, sat in your tower, spewing shit, who are creating a “Cheer the fuck up” hostility.

If more than a few hundred people feel unsettled in a new environment, in a new country, like normal ex-pats are currently struggling with, then its a FACT. We are here to support each other. To express natural concern and thought. Your sort is NOT WELCOME ON MY SITE AGAIN.

I don’t know a single person in Hong Kong who ORDINARILY lived in the lifestyle they were suddenly thrown into living. Our open issues with it, are possibly a plethora (look it up you dumb fuck) of feelings and guilt for “larging it”. I grew up in a small flat. I couldn’t and still can’t, get past having “help”. Nor do I want to. My choice.

I’m bored of attempts by people like you, with judgemental messages that seem to be written simply for a reaction. The reason I HAVE reacted this time is because youve proven a point. Its people like you, Western and local HK residents, who attempt to  undermine anyone who complains about missing home, or not enjoying what seems like “paradise”.  Hong Kong is NOT paradise. Fact.

Get a life and get the FUCK OFF MY SITE.

What I write, in jest, or truth, is my choice.

You’re clearly a controlling, incapable, emotionally cold human (if that). Trolls who attack for no apparent reason don’t affect me. I’m assuming you’ve got zero friends, a dog that hates you ( you probably kick it when you walk in the front door), and family that had to move miles away from you, just to get some normality, without feeling guilty for showing any signs of happiness.

My blog has always been written in jest (you freak), and is something I suggest you think about in your own padded cell, judgemental, bitter world.

I wouldn’t ordinarily give someone like you (with limited vocab/lack of empathy/clear wind-up merchant) the time of day. BUT subjects like yourself, who feel sooooo important, that you felt the need to attack ANY ex-pat, struggling to settle in, for whatever reason)…. get a life. Who CARES what you all like to judge and feel? We don’t judge people like you all the time as we have LIVES to moan about. Like NORMAL people do.

Next time, I’ll reveal your IP address just so your neighbours know the ignorant bully living next door, is full of contemptible BS.

Any questions? Drop me a line. I’M DYING TO KNOW WHAT YOUR THOUGHTS ARE.”






Holidays with the kids, all THREE of them, and the Captain….(child No.4)




What could go wrong really?  Yes, yes, I know I’ve harped on about this subject many a time but seriously…. my lists of what to pack are pages and pages long.

1. Kids.

2. Husband.

3. Xanax/Valium.

4. Staff.

5. More Xanax in case you run out of your emergency Xanax (or staff suddenly quit).

I mean, there are soo many of us that I reckon we could handle a kid each. Surely!???  Or so we thought….

Look, I know I moan about this all the time (“ooooh she’s sooo lucky she travels everywhere….” ) Whatever.

Do me a favour…. I may as well have grown up in a barn with all the “travelling” I did as a kid…  so really…. any trips on a plane (not made out of paper) are a plus. But, travelling with kids is fucking hard work.  They are relentless.  I didn’t grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth but I did get accepted (English Literature every time!) at all the top schools in London.  My parents were fighting for every penny to send me to school (they had 3 kids so maybe I was finally a favourite)…. I will never ever thank them enough for doing the best they could.

HARD WORK when they are just 3 years old (twins) and, our newly one year old, who’s even more of a pain in the arse than the other two put together.  If ANYONE dares to email me and tell me that I am talking out of my arse then (a) You have staff, or (b) you are on drugs or (c) Both. Don’t judge.  I HATE people who judge.  We are all the same in some teeeeeeny tiny way.  None of you are better or worse than I. Soo…. the story….

You need to see our packing to appreciate my moan.  I say “our”  but to be fair, The Captain does zero but point at belts, linen shirts and flip flops while stuff gets packed FOR him. NIIIIICE.  I need to get back on a proper salary asap so I gain some power in the home.

Anyhow…. the kids need anything from a Cot bed, bed rails (hotels don’t have these), swim pants, food, clothes, creams, bla bla blaaaaaaa.  Yes, I LOVE them before you even judge me with some shit on how people can’t have kids etc (been there, done that…. turns out I could after trying a few years but I’m still certain IVF changed my karma in some way).

Ok, “No.3″ (The Captains pet name for her…) she’s cute but boy does this kid looooove to cry on a plane… next to an obviously hung-over 35-year-old man…. who already hates you when he see’s you approach his seat and covers his eyes with his cheap, yellow, airline pillow.  They give you that weak smile that says “Be gentle…. I was out shagging a prostitute last night in Wan Chai, and now, YOU have shown up, with your one year old screaming kid, who clearly hates me “. Errr… because children (like animals) sense evil?

So, the amount of work that is involved in packing for 3 very different kids is hell.  And heaven forbid that any of their items share a case and actually touch….well you’re screwed.  And when they misbehave, I’m almost slitghy tempted to mess with their minds and send them home (thats how ill i have become since those precious angels came into my quiet, tidy, hassle-free , hung-over-without-consequence life).

The amount of times I now hear, “Mummy…. he’s breathing on me. Mummy, she’s touching my finger. Mummy, the potato is touching the chicken. Mummy, no bread. Mummy I want bread with no butter.  Mummy, I want bread!! Mummy, Daddy looked at me funny. Mummy, my ice cream is cold. Mummy, the balloon is broken. Mummy, I don’t want that hair clip. Mummy, I want to wear this top with cars on it.  Mummy, I hate the top with cars. Mummy mummy mummy!!!! Mummy, I don’t like you…”.

That last statement is actually the worst one to utter to ANY Mum (doing the BEST she can) and which makes me snap and has potential for tears… mine of course.  Ungrateful little sods.  No wonder my Mum wanted to kill me sometimes.  I was a little bastard!! I got expelled from school for being such a  typical teenager, I’m amazed my Mother didn’t kill me there and then. Thank fuck for Dads eh!? (Witnesses are essential kids…. keep ’em close…especially when they are sperm donors).

My now 3-year-old twins, Itchy & Scratchy, are becoming more and more annoying and think they have a chance of being defiant in my company.  They messed with the wrong woman.  I’m not being an arsehole when I say this, but, what happened to the days of discipline?

Why am I being judged (openly actually), for doing what is harder than being a lax parent?  I won’t let them step out of line, spit on anyone, let guests leave without saying goodbye (or hello) at the door, and yes, they have a bed time (an actual time one goes to sleep).  Fucking shoot me for being anal.

I have had people say “ooohhh…. they go to bed at 7pm?”.  Like, I’m punishing them for going to sleep.  For those routine Mums who do the same shit I do, day in & out, its harder to be strict, have the routine, get them to go to bed at a set time… the whole process is hard work.

Yes, you have help. Let them, all stand up and judge. BUT, you are the Mum. If you are not working and at home, you’re there regardless.  Its harwork having grown women in your space while you try to be you.  Yes, we have “HELP”. Sooo overly lucky.  Treat people with respect and get on with your shit.  But, you will moan to your husbands. Why? Because, this is your daily office.  You have to manage people and if your staff are causing any strife, things are worse, not easier.

Its a job (for that cheeky fucking bitch who emailed me weeks ago telling me that I was nothing but a “HK Mum who drove her crazy”.)  My “job” as a Mum (yes, even with “Help”) is work and if you do the whole routine thing that I do, its not easy.  Just because some of us work, and some don’t, its a struggle either way.  Us Mums who stay at home, and everyone loves to judge us because apparently, in HK, we do nothing.  The fact is. We do.  Don’t act like you work and therefore what we do is pretty much… hair… nails…. leave the kids with “Help”….. this pisses me off.  I didn’t grown up with nannies and despite having help because I HAD to with twins…. I’m sooo sooooo grateful for the time off.  It makes me a better Mum.

I remember mine…. she was tired, stressed, wanted to physically strangle me, loved me… but needed space.  Whoever heads off to work in the morning still gets a lunch break….. has the weekends off, doesn’t wake at night.  Our “job“as Mother never ever ends.  EVER.  Why?  Because, we’re Mums.  Once you are “in”, you never, ever leave.  We can’t.

We were working women (some of us, and those who weren’t, I’m not judging either), but I’m fed up of meeting people and having to justify who I “was” before I had kids and became a HK housewife.  I’m proud of what I do.  Three kids, a husband (child Number 4 clearly, 2 amazing Helpers).  This, EVEN with help (because I’ve got used to it….) I never had it full time until the kids were 9 months)….. Life is not shit here.  Settling in is tough at the start but it gets easier.

For those of you who just arrived…. enjoy yourselves!!  We have great weather, good friends are there to be made, and life is too toooo short to waste moaning on the new move and what you think you are missing back home.  Be brave new expats (I’ve had many an email recently)…. if I can settle in (and yes, it took me a while..)…. anyone can.

Anyhow…. back to the kids (I tend to digress)…. so… when those little punks (the twins)  arrived, they took a look around and thought:

“Damn this shit looks good to us…. we’re staying! Mazeltov suckers!  Plus that knackered, weeping, very very very fat woman, seems very happy to see us, so, we’ll give her a chance”.  Little did they know that I am STRICT and very pissed off with what they did to my previous washboard stomach (which now resembles a Sharpei dogs face/body).

See photo below of super cute dog….this is actually what a Mum of twins stomach looks like (or should unless someones had a little tweak of surgery) after having the little angelic, sods.  Actually…my face now looks like this dogs arsehole.  RUINED!!!


So…back to travels…its amazing as you get older, how little sympathy you have for your fellow travellers.  I used to be terrified of getting onto a plane, kids all following like my little ducklings, and people sneering at me, hoping I move onto another seat.  People were soooo fucking rude (before my munchkins even did anything, I felt bad & actually apologised to people before I even sat down?!?! WTF!!!?).

NOW??  Now… I rock up with my little punks, smear them in shit (yours, mine, who cares?!), offer them some vodka (30 mls max legally), and tell them to cause hell while popping acid (I don’t actually have an Oz or ml figure for this because I suspect this is very illegal…. which is why…. I write everything this in JEST people… I AM JOKING).

Maybe, just maybe, they will annoy everyone soooo much that we get bumped up to First Class (heaven baby). ALLL those people sat on the plane with faces screwed up like they just sucked a lemon (or swallowed sperm), were kids once, so they can all fuck off with their judgemental looks.

I’m fed up of feeling bad for having to not only deal with the shit of travelling with kids (look they’re not actually THAT bad… but I AM fed up with the “looks”).

I am now determined to make everyone’s life hell who even looks in my direction before anything kicks off, as these are the arseholes I really dislike in every day life.  Judgemental, annoying, “don’t like kids“, wankers…. Thats why they stick all the families with kids together…. so we can all suffer as one. Joy. I actually REALLY want someone to moan/groan/say something/anything…. just so I can now turn around and say;


I love the older passengers who clearly don’t ever see their grandkids enough as they LOVE to be around my brood.  They’re the ones I ask to watch the kids while I piss off to First class and harass the staff for free champagne.  If I can sleep for a couple of hours too… bonus!

Our last flight to Thailand (yeh… I know… I hate the place) involved us being split into two groups.

The Captain took, what he thought was the “easier child” (my “alleged favourite daughter”) to sit with him.  Turns out, even with Piriton, she didn’t sleep a wink. Atta girl! We have done the whole “reverse thing”… give it to them before in case they go crazy, but nope…. this kid…. she’s going to work for the FBI….or Al Qaeda…. Oy vey … l (it’s a Jewish thing as I’m now a Jew…read previous posts for conversion tips and Chicken soup recipe).

Anyhow….as the flight progressed, I decided, I needed to have a glass of wine to ease the pain.  I AM NOT A CRAZY DRINKER despite my previous alcoholic posts (ok… a little bit.  Who are you?! Mother friggin Teresa?!) …. BUT JESUS MARY & JOSEPH….. I needed a friggin drink after 2 hours of constant screaming.  Even the guy sat next to me, holding his Blue Book “AA” Bible (I borrowed it for half the flight), ordered a double whisky.  What can I say???  You need to sometimes take the shit off!!!


The kids were fine, I was happy, The Captain was a few rows behind and therefore totally unaware of my childish decision to deal with things “my way”….OK…like an alcoholic. I’m not ever going to judge anyone at any level for alcohol consumption….but I do know that IF you ever have to hide what you drank, you are, to me (and probably only me, and anyone in my AA Group) an alcoholic.  Bothered?! Me?? Not really.  Once you have travelled in my flip-flops….then you try judge.  I know who I am.  As we landed, and I happily sang songs to the kids, The Captains ears twitched (my happy persona was a HUGE give-away) and he then said…. “Errrr… have you been drinking on this flight?”

My response?  As I was the one sat in a row of three with two toddlers, ready to break me mentally in anyway they could, PLUS a one year old half asleep in her bassinet (I was meant to wake her when there was turbulence…. I took my chances & hoped she didn’t bounce around the cabin too much…plus…. you’re pretty much fucked when shit like that happens to be fair)… I told him the truth “Nope. Not a single drop”.

FUCK IT!!! Travelling with kids is hardcore.  I want stickers that say “Mum of 3… Survived…Now wheres the frigging bar!!” and a HUGE bottle of KRUG for all my hard work.  They are my kids…. so I can say this….but… they drive me fucking mad sometimes…. and therefore, make me feel like a shit Mum….and Im not!!!! Im brilliant…. I reckon….

images krug-bottles-580cs060710-1276271237

But…. alas…aren’t they precious …?  The kids I mean…. not the bottles of Krug (which lets face it, are probably more grateful for my time and slurpy kisses).