Go Bananas: Hummus and eyeliner

Ask any person of tropical origins "What do you hate most about the winters in China?" and 10-1 the answer will be the fact that heating in business and residential property is centrally controlled by the state. That is, IF that part of China is entitled to heating. One of Mao's more mind-boggling legacies states that cities north of the Yangtze River may be supplied with central heating beginning every year on 15 November, regardless of how cold it gets before then. Heat provision will likewise cease precisely 4 months after it is first supplied on 15 March. Those who are naturally averse to the cold and consider temperatures below 20 degrees celcius to official signal the arrival of winter, find this a particularly trying time. So, in go the short short skirts and open toed shoes into storage boxes and out come the heavy fleeces, woolly hats and thick socks even when plodding around the house. I would have hibernated all weekend if it hadn't been Josh's birthday. Spoil sport. I was so looking forward to snuggling under double duvet covers in my sub zero apartment. And what does he do? He goes and has a birthday. Pah. Jia and I conspired and plotted before deciding on Biteapitta with its bountiful servings of hummus, shawarma, kebab and general mediterranean goodness to host Josh's birthday bash.

Jia, Josh and Julia

James Dean in the 21st century - the SNAG (Sensitive New Age Guy) with a pink rose wearing and leather jacket with added safety features.

The restaurant's owner soon got tired of all the camera whoring in his establishment and threw us out into the cold so we wandered around Nurenjie for a bit. That was one of the few times that we had ventured out away from the familiar comfort of Sanlitun. Nurenjie is something of a resurrection, the second coming of the old Sanlitun Bar Street - all neon lights, aggressive touts, overpriced alcohol, cheese-mongering Mandopop cover banbds and popcorn poppin' dice game playin' bar patrons. In fact, the Sanlitun of today bears more resemblance to Sarajevo of the early to mid Nineties, as I discovered during my trip down there on Sunday morning to escape the godrotting zhuangxiu that began at 9.30am. But that's another story. Anyway, back to Nurenjie. Max poked his head in the first bar whose touts didn't physically assault him for his patronage and the rest of us followed.

Choosing our respective poisons at Shan Bar.

Max finally got his big break after years of modelling Y fronts in supermarket catologues, bursting onto the scene with a cover shoot on Teen Beat Magazine.

...which provided Josh with enough encouragement to make a bid for the Big Time.

The following night was the Yan Club Fetish Party. I decided that there comes a time when I must hang up my fishnet stockings and knee high PVCs to make way for the next generation of Sluts and Perverts. I took Matty D and Matty K to Alien Street near Yabao Lu to shop for props: angel wings (RMB50 for medium sized Gabriel flappers), chains (RMB2 per 1.5 metres), tarty tights (RMB18/pair) and super white foundation (RMB5 - looked like clumpy semi-liquid alabaster) for Matt K; ledernehosen(RMB250, down from RMB400) , bling bling (RMB25), leather boots (RMB200) and a dickie bow (price unknown, not privy to the bargaining process) for Matt D. The boys then came over to my place and I got started on making Matt K look like a morgue escapee.