The Problem With Human Trafficking In Hong Kong

Traffic sucks. It’s never a good sign and it never ends well. Plus, everywhere in the world thinks they have it the worst. But I’ve got a bombshell for you. What makes it even more unbearable in Hong Kong than anywhere else in the world is that it’s not confined to just the roads. I’m talking about the Human Traffic situation.

If you thought a New York Second, a London Jibber or a Honkers Honker was bad enough then just try going anywhere by foot in Asia’s World City (HK). The minute you step out from behind your desk at work into the office space behind, you’ll find someone walking 0.2 miles per hour, chatting on their phone or strolling arm in arm with 15 other friends across the entire walkway. And then you hit the elevator.

Unfortunately, there’s no give way sign here. There’s just a crap load of people cramming themselves into a box where personal space just goes out the door you came in. And the invasion of breathing room does not end there.

You exit the elevator and you’re confronted by the escalator. Even though I’m sure everyone understands international escalator etiquette, there’s always someone standing still on the left hand side. And you just know they are fully aware of the queue of angry folks behind them.

If you EVER make it outside your building, before your lunch hour is up, then I’m sorry to say it won’t get any better. I can, however, offer you some advice. If you are an avid car spotter, this is where you’ll notice several specific models. So here’s a list of ones to avoid at all costs.

。        Firstly, there’s the old beat-up truck that’s giving off really bad fumes. Try and avoid getting stuck behind this one, they’ll never let you by.

。        Secondly, there are the wide-loaders. And I’m not talking about fat people. I’m talking about the groups of friends, helpers and tourists that walk 5 abreast down a 2 person pavement. More often than not they will see you coming, but there’s no chance they’ll ever give way. My advice, ram them head on and use both shoulders. To quote True Grit “The harder and faster you run at a man, it does not matter how many people he has with him, you’ll put the fear of God in him and he’ll scatter like the wind.”

。        Lastly, be on the look-out for the tourist couple. They aren’t slow or hard to navigate; they simply break down without warning. You’ll be strolling at pace behind them looking forward to your subway lunch only to find yourself face planted into their sweaty back. And apparently it’s your fault?

Collision Imminent. Always be sure to look out for the avid overtaker.

So you are probably wondering what type I am. Well, like most Westerners, I walk with determination, purpose and at speed. Therefore, I consider myself an F1 car in this environment. I see the gaps and hit the throttle, swerve through tight corners and out break the following pack. It’s the only way to survive, and trust me when I say this, you need the reflexes of a formula 1 driver to get anywhere on-time in this city.

Thus, at a guess, I’d say the reason for the congested, stressed-out and slow road situation is most likely because walking anywhere is such a hassle and a headache that driving is really the lesser of two evils. At least you can have air-con, a comfy seat and some music.

P.S. On the subject of driving, can the owner of the overcompensatingly large engine super car that speeds past my flat every night at 11.30pm, STOP. You’re not cool and I’m literally one day away from deploying a spike strip. Consider this a fair warning.

The closest I'll get to a porn star

Yes that's me. On the left of course. And no it's not because I fooled around with a ladyboy in Phuket. The article explains all.


Hot favorites for Sheen job

Thursday, March 31, 2011

A Hong Kong-based copywriter has made it into the second round of Tiger Blood Intern, troubled American actor Charlie Sheen's online search for his social media promoter.
The problem is he'll be up against other hardworking candidates.

Richard James Dunn made it into the top 250 from a pool of more than 74,000 applicants who are willing to undertake an eight-week paid internship to promote and develop Sheen's social media network.

The list will be further trimmed to 50, and there are some pretty big favorites to make the cut.

One of them is Isis Taylor - a 21-year-old adult film star.

And given the actor's well-known association with some of her colleagues, it won't be a surprise if Sheen already has his eyes set on someone who can work multiple shifts.


- I write, therefore I am.

Location:Gilman St,,Hong Kong

My Take On Social Media In 2 Mins

Using only an iPhone 4 and 1 hour of my day, I created this YouTube video as part of my submission for the #TigerBloodIntern interview

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO VIEW THE VIDEO

Social Media in 2 mins using only an iPhone 4

ENJOY

3 thoughts on creativity from an aspiring Mad Man

Because so much changes in a year, I’ve compiled a few thoughts on my first at OgilvyOne.

1 – Don’t strain yourself for big ideas

Big ideas do exist. I’ve seen them. They litter the walls, halls and even the stalls of our office. And as a young writer, they’re shoved in your face from the moment you arrive. This is of course daunting. And without guidance it can often shock you into buying every copywriting book around. At least that’s how I dealt with it. But there is also another way.

Relax. It sounds simple, but even today I find it hard not to stress about a new brief. And to be honest, I doubt if I’ll ever not. Even the great man himself (David Ogilvy) once said “The first thought that runs through my mind whenever a new brief falls on my desk is that I’m not going to be able to do it”. That is why my first thought on creativity is so important. So repeat after me…

Read, rest and repeat.

Then get off your chair and do something that takes you away from your work. Play pool, go to lunch, watch TV. Your brain is digesting and it needs time to think. And worrying over a brief only reduces your ability to think. You can trust me on that as well.

2 – Be an early bird not a night owl

Yes, this line has been stolen from our recent internal campaign. But it’s rather playful and it gets my message across. I get to the office around 8.30-9 a.m. which is about 2 hours before most of the staff do, 4 hours before my Creative Director. This is far from a jab at my fellow colleagues - each to their own and without everyone else I would be lost. And I don’t do this to score points or get noticed. I do it because it’s quiet. I can think and be with my thoughts. It’s often why when it gets noisy I lock myself in a boardroom to brainstorm with a white-board.

I’ve also learnt from a master. Taking your lunch at 12 means you get quiet time in the office when you return at 1. These are the precious moments in my job where peace and serenity are warmly welcome. You are probably thinking that this contrasts my first creative thought, above, but both are valid points. You need quiet time and distractions in order to think. You just require them at set times during the creative process.

Quiet time is for after you have digested the brief. Distractions are for after you have a brief in. Simple.

3 - Get down with the lingo

Finally, a few buzz words and catch phrases to help you navigate the office

        A – Final Approval: Basically means order dinner to the office, you’re staying past midnight.

        B – I pulled it out of my arse: Every creative in the business uses this term. My reasoning is that it’s an excuse to share an idea you think is amazing, that you know no one else will like. It allows you to retract it if the general opinion is crap. After all, your arse is only ever full of s**t.

        C – OE: This is the outer envelope for a Direct Mail or DM. The most important platform in marketing. NEVER EVER LEAVE IT OFF A CONCEPT. Your Creative Director will throttle you. The same goes for a P.S. (see below)

        D – P.S. Apart from the headline of a letter, and of course the OE, this is the single most important thing you can add. Research has shown that over 80% of readers only look at this, the OE and your headline, so make it count. And I’m not going to reference where I got this statistic because 4/5 statistics are made up.

        E – Concept: This one’s pretty obvious. Every idea needs legs that carry it beyond the face of the product. Ergo, you’re not selling a watch your selling the concept of time.

        F – USP: Unique selling point. Something, anything, your product has that no one else has. Basic marketing. And one more thing while I’m at it, sell benefits as USPs not features.

        G – Always think of the opposite: Ah, this is one of my favorites. It means that if you have an idea or a concept, turn it on its head and it’ll probably work harder. There are a few great examples out there but my favorite is the following. American Express does not have a pin, annoyingly, they always make you sign. This is often seen as a down side because it’s slow. If you turn it on its head, however, it can be used as a USP. Write a line such as “I am not a number” and you’ve singled out American Express as prestigious and exclusive, exactly what the brand is.

H – A blank page: This can be the most daunting thing to any creative, however, draw several black boxes on it and fill them with shit ideas. Then draw more on another page and do the same. Keep doing this until you have three out of 100 ideas that could work. Then go back to your blank page and develop these three out of their boxes and into something great. (Our Worldwide Creative Director taught me that one. Thanks Khai Meng)

So there you have it. There’s a lot more to it than that of course. So hold your breath. More to come soon. For now, go and digest.

The year dot plus one

Yes, I'm officially back. Aged one (and 23). I feel it's about time I continued writing my blog. After all it's almost a year since life began for me and as you do at such a young age, I've forgotten almost everything I learnt and achieved. Hence, onward and upward.






And boy has the world changed in just one year. I've worked my way into my dream job, forced the girl of my dreams into a solid commitment and jumped on the "I'm writing a novel" bandwagon, not to mention I also learnt the difference between than and then.






So, I'll see you all very soon, back here in the usual place. Let's see what this year holds.

PS: Yes, I'm attempting to write a book. All judgement, laughter and banter accepted.


- I write, therefore I am.

iPhones, girlfriends and flip-flops are all banned on planes

Did you know that among the list of things you’re not allowed to take on planes there’s lithium batteries (found in almost every Apple item since the first ever iPod), aerosol cans (just like the ones they sell in duty free before you fly) and sharp objects. Before you start asking if that includes pens, toothpicks, hair clips or just about a thousand other items you've probably carried onto a plane, it doesn’t. Apparently only knives and scissors are dangerous when it comes to airplanes.

What’s even stranger is that on Delta Airlines you are not allowed pocket knives, now does that mean you can take any knife that won't fit in your pocket? That leaves a lot of knives on the list. Confusing, no? Well, the real confusing thing is that there are several lesser known items that have been left off that really need to be added. I’ve compiled a short list of a few I think we can all agree should never be allowed on a plane.

For example; babies, which are a three fold problem on planes. They smell, they make loud noises and as soon as they reach 3 they end up kicking your seat for the duration of your flight. How about non in-ear headphones? You’ve all experienced this I am sure. There's that one guy with his music blasting way to loud for his own good, let alone the guy sitting 10 rows back from him. I mean the only positive note, sorry for the pun, is that he is going to lose his hearing within 2 years. So at least you can rest easy knowing that Karma is going to kick his ass. And these items are just the beginning. We might as well just throw the following in, after all, I’m sure we can all agree they should be banned; Flip-flops, smelly foods, flasks, FARTING (I mean come on, we’re all in a confined shared space, whoever it is just stop) BO (you know who you are) and last but def not least KELLY PESCOD. Yes that’s right, I've incriminated my own girlfriend, but then she's probably as bad as taking SARS or Uranium rods onto a plane. Even mentioning the word plane can set this poor girl off.

She’s the real reason I’m not so eager to travel back to the UK. It's not the weather, tax or Chavs that litter the streets, it’s the anguish of spending over a day locked in a 2x4 box with the world’s worst flyer.

So be aware when you next fly of the dangers that lurk at over 30,000 feet. The worst is blond, 5ft 5 and most likely popping sleeping pills. 

Anything can be art, even a blog!

http://www.wordle.net/show/wrdl/2250468/HKBlogart

The story so far.......

I'd like to say it's been easy and that you can leave Uni with a solid degree, or two, several years of experience and a pocket full of tenacity (what dreams are made of) to find yourself swamped with job offers. But this just isn't the case.

There are those that fall into jobs, but more often than not it’s because they know someone who knows someone or their Daddy's the boss. However, it's just not how the world works. And these folks never really last, trust me.

I've spent the last 7 months in Hong Kong, since the start of this blog, networking, interning, groveling, taking part in a world's greatest salesperson competition and even crying on occasion. And I can say with 100% conviction that I have not enjoyed every minute of it at all, far from it. I've enjoyed the majority of moments, but I've also never felt so lost and alone during several others.

Despite all that has happened though, I have made it and today I am more then happy.

I would encourage all those that have a dream to follow it no matter where it takes you or how hard the path is along the way. Reaching a goal, no matter how small, always makes up for the crap you’re undoubtedly going to have to face. As a great man once said "Being very good is no good. You have to be very, very, very, very, very good" (DO).

This is not the end of my blog, as the title states, "life begins at 23". I merely have the opening chapter to my memoirs.

Neglected Blog

I am very sorry for the neglected nature of my blog in recent months. I promised I would update every week. However, I have been busy. lol.

There is good news to come. I promise that!

More stories, and a re-blogging will commence soon.

I am one of the World's Greatest Salespeople, FACT!

You may have heard it on the news, you may have read it in the papers and you may have even seen my video. One things for sure though, my life will never be the same again. The past few weeks have been a real turning point. I'd like to thank everyone involved so far for their support and encouragement.

For those of you that the message has not reached, I've been engaged in a battle of the bricks; blocks of clay have been thrown and small little red lines have been drawn. The revolution has truly begun. You came in your hundreds and supported my work, when really; it’s your effort that should be congratulated. You joined the revolution; you formulated uses for a useless 19th century building aid and you have ultimately shaped this outcome. I always believed the Red Brick was not obsolete, thank you all for believing in me. Let “the power of intrinsic value” be sung from the highest rooftops.

Almost a month ago OgilvyOnes’s – search for the world’s greatest salesperson – competition began and it’s hard to believe I’ve made it to this point. Last Sat I was nominated to the top 10 “world’s greatest salespeople”, as the competition reached its second phase. It just goes to show what we can do when we rally together. The Red Brick will truly be saved thanks to Ogilvy and our revolution.

There have been highs and there have been lows, there have even been those little annoying bits in between that nobody really likes. However, the wait is not over, the end is not insight and the hard work has only just begun. Its time to pull out my ‘A’ game, write like I’ve never written before, interview like there's no tomorrow and sell sell sell. After all, MY DREAM DEPENDS ON IT.

Through the looking glass. Part 2 - The long awaited sequel

The truth is that you can’t beat a good old mishap, as long as it’s someone else in the firing line. It’s pretty obvious that as a race, humans love to see people “fail”. Most of the time it’s not cruel, it just puts your life into perspective and gives you a warm fuzzy feeling inside. There are plenty of YOUTUBE videos advertising this fact. Ok, so it may be a little sadomasochistic, but everyone laughs eventually, as long as ultimately the poor hapless individual is still alive and in once piece afterwards. On that note, I must inform you all of my latest “fail”.

My recent excursion to European Asia, Macau, ended with one of the scariest experiences of my life. I have an innate trust that I believe all my fellow Brits share; no matter where we travel in the world (except the Middle East of course) we will be received with open arms. This has been the case throughout my life, thanks to her Majesty’s most gracious gift; The British Passport. My Great British belief, however, came crashing down when retuning through Hong Kong immigration.

I had been slightly nervous all day about approaching the immigration desk, seeing as my holiday Visa was a month from running out and as a badly balding 23 year old man, I often get odd looks on the few occasions I am asked for ID; my driving license, passport, student card and pretty much any photo ID I have were taken around 4 years ago, when I had hair. I was expecting the usual, leading questions and dark looks, however, nothing to the extent of what happened upon handing over my passport.

From upside down, I could make out the official type the four worst words in the immigration language; STOP, PREVENT, ARRIVAL and HOLD. My heart began to race, my palms began to sweat and my head began to spin. My passport was confiscated as I was marched from the queue, told to sit in a waiting area, and left to the sole destroying darkness of my thoughts.

Anyone in a situation such as this will tell you that panic is a natural occurrence, and most will break down and spill everything for hopes of striking a deal. I managed to regain my calm, however, by telling myself that they didn’t now anything, they had no clue and in fact where probably waiting for me to say too much, and get myself in trouble. I was reminded of my Psychology degree (Game theory and the Prisoner Dilemma) and how the situation would most likely plan out.

First they make you sweat while they check your background, then they take you into a dark room where your defences are weakened by their authoritarian and overwhelming stature and potential power, where you eventually break under your own doing, and end up being deported. I had decided, however, as most good cop films have taught me, to stay quiet and figure out exactly what they knew before I said anything.

As I was taken from one very lonely place in my head, to another altogether equally lonely place in their interrogation room, I tried my hardest to keep my heart rate low and my wits about me. I was informed that they were very concerned with both the quality of my passport, and the youthful nature of my picture. I explained about the rigorous issues of genetic premature baldness, the mishap with a luggage label sticking three of the pages together, and why I was returning to Hong Kong in the first place. I told the truth, explained the situation, and after a few trick questions from several immigration officers, I was eventually let past on my own merit.

In all truthfulness there were several moments when I thought I was really in trouble, half way round the world from my family. The reality of my situation in Hong Kong and the altogether nature of being this far from home had really set in. I have never experienced homesickness, but I came close that day.

Despite all this, I will be going back to Macau, I’m just going to change all my ID photo’s and get a new passport before I contemplate any more day trips.

World's Greatest Salesperson - Red Brick Revolution.m4v

let the RED BRICK REVOLUTION BEGIN

Through the looking glass. Part 1

If you ever come to Hong Kong, one of the best things you can do is leave. I don’t mean to sound like I hate Hong Kong, far from it, I love it here. What I mean to say is that you should take a trip to Macau, a small SAR (special administrative region) a short hop, skip and a 1 hour jump from Hong Kong via boat.

Macau has to be one of the strangest places I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. In order to understand what you experience you have to imagine a place a lot like Alice's Wonderland. Macau is half Chinese, half Portuguese (European) and half Las Vegas. I know that makes it over 50% bigger than is physically possible, but then the Chinese have a way of making more of an available space then anyone else. The walled city of Kowloon was one example of that. Macau is made of an additional 50% reclaimed land which lays way for the larger then Las Vegas gambling strip.

When you arrive, however, I recommend you head for the tourist area and not the bright lights of the Macau strip. Now, most people would advise that you stay away from tourist destinations if you want to experience the real country, however, this is defiantly not the case with Macau. Macau present two options, tourist destination or gambling heaven; the Chinese locals are only there to gamble, so to escape the hustle and bustle I recommend you stay close to the tourist areas. Embrace the sites and standard routes and experience China through the looking glass. Anything else is honestly just a gamble.

On your way through the city you will travel through what appears to be a bustling American cityscape with high rise buildings and hotels. Suddenly and without warning, however, you'll have become lost in a maze of cobbled side roads and small European flats. Around every corner of this place, you'll come across something new, exciting and completely awe-inspiring; from the view at the fort to the famous market square and the wall of the St Paul’s cathedral. Never has so much fuss been made over one wall, except of course that wailing one. Just make sure you watch your step, the locals seem to love mopeds more then they love gambling, and seeing as this is the only place in China where it is legal to gamble, that makes for a hell of a lot of mopeds.

If you do decide to place a bet, however, I would recommend you visit the Macau strip over the “odd bod” Casino’s placed around the city. An entire gambling heaven awaits, built on reclaimed sand, larger then Las Vegas. However there was just so much to do I never made it this far, the experience is truly yours to embrace. I will, however, be going back to Macau, for the world’s tallest bungee (Macau Tower) the world’s largest indoor river (The Venetian Macau) and the world’s most “out of this world” tourist destination.

In all honestly I recommend at least a visit to Macau, whether you choose to follow the white rabbit of the gambling habit, or get lost with the Cheshire cat among the maze of cobbled streets. Macau is an experience not to be missed.

Sharing is caring, in Hong Kong

I recently went for a meal over in Shek O on the south side of Hong Kong Island and I’ve discovered something about the eating habits of Hong Kong that is completely foreign.

In England you order from a set menu, each to his own, and although you may order a side of onion rings or possibly even a salad to share, if you’re that way inclined, the vast majority of people are happy with their own choice. Even when ordering foreign food from a take away, in England, you’re likely to have your own dish. This is the way of the English.

The thing about moving to a foreign country, however, is that you’re thrust into embracing foreign habits and customs. Most of these are not too taxing, for example; everyone sweats in Hong Kong in the summer “apparently” and it’s just accepted, no one ever wears a tie to work, beer is considered liquid gold with a price tag to match and the business card is the Hong Kong hand shake. The strangest of these customs, however, comes at meal time.

Instead of ordering a set meal each, everyone orders a dish from the menu, and it’s shared between the table. Just think about how vicious it would get if you had to share your meal with several people in England. At Uni if anyone came close to steeling your chips they’d risk losing a finger. I’m guessing this is why the Chinese invented chopsticks, blunted instruments that make it impossible to take too much food at once. This technically prevents selfishness and injury, unless of course you take a chopstick in the eye.

After a few months of deliberation, however, I have come to love the concept of a shared meal. You can pick and choose, benefit from a variety of flavors and usually enjoy more food then from a set meal. I don’t see the concept taking off in England anytime soon though so I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.

In Hong Kong sharing really is caring. If only the Chinese could invent something to remove the side effects of eating spicy foods.

Once upon a time at the 7's

If you know Hong Kong, or if you know Rugby, then you've heard of the Hong Kong 7's. A three day weekend, full of drinking, socializing and a boat load of rugby.

I arrived at the stadium after two days of some spectacular rugby. It was Sunday morning and I was headed straight to “South Stand”, dressed head to toe as Ronald McDonald, ready for a day’s drunken madness.

After a slightly jaded couple of hours, the face paint had started to burn into my skin, I’d kicked over a Litre of Alcohol, eaten my weight in beef pies and nature was calling. It had been my goal to get on the big screen, live in-front of the crowd and as yet we, the McDonalds, had not been noticed.

On the way to the toilet, however, my luck changed and I managed to get my moment of fame with 15 seconds of crazy dancing on the big screen. Full of glee over my recent TV appearance, I had decided to repeat the dance whilst traveling back to my seat, just in case the “paps” were still rolling. I began with a hop, a skip, a shuffle and a shake; I was truly in my element. I had no idea, however, that this would all result in a torn ligament and 4 hours in A n E.

Before I new it I was hopping home hoping that after a few hours kip some RICE (rest, ice, compress and elevation) and some pain killers, I’d make it to Wan Chi for the after game party. It was not to be, however, after a few hours’ kip. I tried standing and almost collapsed in pain. If was off to hospital for this 7’s fan.

The first thing I can say is thank God I went home first and got changed. The mere act of sitting in A n E as a slightly hung over Ronald McDonald, in a wheelchair with a potentially broken foot and a face full of paint, would most likely ruin the dreams of any small child not to mention end in a potential law suit from McDonalds themselves for Brand misrepresentation. I had other things to worry about.

The first thing you have to realize about the hospitals, like so many other things in Hong Kong, is that you pay upfront and you keep hold of the receipt. If there is any place that could feel more like a Monty Python sketch it’s a Hong Kong hospital. I half expected John Clees to pop out from behind the curtain to take my order.

The next thing you will notice is that the locals are apparently there to watch the TV rather then as a result of any illness. It’s my opinion that if you can walk, and your not in a sling or have blood coming from somewhere, that you shouldn’t go to A n E. In England we are deliberately told not to go to hospital if we have flu like symptoms. It’s the opposite in HK, with patients told to report if there have any signs of a cold. There must have been at least 10 people go through before me, only to return within a minute with a perplexed look on there face.

So there I am, sitting in a queue of drunken 7's victims, with receipt in hand waiting to be seen. It really is a unique experience. It’s a shame that I was told they charge extra if you use a wheel chair, I would have hopped if I had known. The best description I can give of the whole experience is that of a 5 star Hotel. Admittedly all the services are superb, and you know you're in good hands, but ultimately watch out for all the additional extras they may add to the bill and NEVER ever drink from the mini bar in your room.

All in all I’ve lost my south stand virginity in a way I will never forget. There is always more to the Hong Kong 7’s than the rugby.

Hedge your bets

I recently attended two events that can only be described as ultimately different, however, at the same time oddly similar. The events in question both involve a large mass of people forcing drinks down themselves to lubricate their systems, talking to complete strangers, and a genuinly good time had by all.

I regularly attend the famous Happy Valley Races on a Wednesday night, amid the usual social crowd, beer tents and first time winners. I myself was once a virgin racer and I have tasted begginers luck, winning a whole $20, so I can see the appeal. On a similar Wednsday night however, I attended a bankers dating evening, purely for networking purposes of course, despite there being no real appeal for the occasion, I noticed some odd similarities.

At both occasions you are presented with a large array of contestants to choose from. There are the tipped favourites, the experienced oldtimers, the mid ranged runners and of course the last place outsiders. At both occasions you must also ask yourself the same basic questions; Which contestent is a likely winner, who should I bet on, what are my odds of success, which has the best legs and how well they are likely to ride.

At either occasion I would offer the folowing advice. Start by getting the cheat sheet, survey the prospects and if possible get the low down from a regular on each contestant. There are probably a few hidden flaws, always watch out for a wooden leg, and never approach a guaranteed winner, your return is way too small. My advice would be to hedge your bets, play the field and more importantly then not, go with whatever name sounds the best.

Giving up giving up, for lent

Lent is upon us once more and the age old question that passes everyone’s lips, what to give up this year. Should I stop eating chocolate for a month, only to eat a month’s supply of Easter eggs in April, or should I stop driving to save on my carbon footprint, only to fail within 5 minuets of walking in the heat of Hong Kong, sweating buckets and smelling of Graham Street fish market.

I propose a different solution, this year I am not going to give up anything. I am going to take up something. In essence I am going to give up giving up, which is ultimately the flaw in my plan. To stop giving up, I need to give up giving up. And hence I have already failed, but I’m willing to over look this. I’ve always thought the idea of "giving up" to be a very depressing prospect anyway and I’ve not been religious since 2000 so I really shouldn't care about the tradition.So why not flip it on it's head, I should take up not giving up.

Taking up something installs a more positive and free thinking attitude. It allows for a much wider range of possibilities. When you decide to give up something you have to already be doing it, and in essence, there are only a finite number of things that you are currently doing. On the other hand there is ultimately an infinite number of things that you are not doing, that you could take up.

Why not try it this year, look for something new and different that you can do for a month, or even turn your current thoughts on giving up, into thoughts of taking up. If you’re giving up smoking, you’re taking up breathing cleaner air. If you’re giving up sex you’re taking up celibacy. If you’re giving up chocolate, which I am sure everyone woman on earth will try at least once, then you’re taking up a healthier option.

This practice should leave a sense of achievement that’s easier to follow and accomplish than trying to give up something. Try giving up smoking for example, your likely to fail. Then try taking up longer life, cleaner air, nice smelling cloths and the extra pocket money. Thinking this way about your situation is sure to have a better outcome.

As for me, I am simply giving up giving up, and that’s a good enough start.

Oh, Suits you sir!

There comes a time in every mans life when he has to pick his first suit. It used to be that this was the making of a man; the suit would command, inspire and flaunt ambition to those in lesser attire. Then came the power tie, something Wall Street believed would inspire greatness in the eyes of the beholder. Feminists would critique, however, that the tie itself is just a representation of the phallic male symbol of power and that its presence alone was unnecessary and that any addition would be Freudian. Middle and lower, entry level, management even caught on to the trend and when the piano tie was even considered to be "a power tie" the fad was truly over.

Nowadays however the number of additions, colours, styles and fabrics can literally drive a man insane. As it is these days a mans first suit is no longer bought for his first job ( and by first job I don't mean the paper round as a teenager, that would be silly, although the tips would have probably been a little better). As childhood gets ever shorter these days its more like a boys first suit, then a mans.

My first suit was bought from ASDA "George" for my senior school, 6th form or college, depending on where in the UK you come from. It was also either year 11, 9, lower 5th or G7 depending on nothing at all and probably made up by the school you attended. I never really understood the difference or similarity between the ever complicated English schools system. Anyway.....

Today's suit can consist of trousers, jacket, waistcoat, tie, bow tie, cufflinks, shirt, pinstripe shirt, pinstripe trousers, pinstripe suit, pinstripe pinstripe pinstripe, socks (any colour as long as they are brightly coloured and in no way match anything else you have on) and of course shoes (which also don't need to match the colour of your suit). Women think they have it bad. Admittedly we only ever have to make this choice once, but then there comes the never ending array of ties that we apparently need. If there is one thing I loved about my first Suit it was that the tie was bought by the school and was identical to everyone else’s. Perhaps this would eliminate any phallic competition between men that ties allow; big knot, small knot, tight knot, long fat bit, short thin bit, visa verse, tucked in, and many more.

The whole process has become a complete farce, I like to think of myself as creative, but even with all these options you’re still just in a suit, like everyone else. Lets be honest, who is ever actually comfortable in one of these. In meetings we take the jackets of because its impossible to write anything with them on, in the summer we don't even wear ties and you're always going to get the staff fool wearing all pinstripes with a stripy tie!

Why not just wear nice smart trouser, like chinos or smart jeans, and a collared shirt. Most creative agencies do. It’s comfortable, smart and no way near so much of a bother. Don't get me wrong, I loved my first suit, and I love my University Tie, it made me feel part of something but when it comes to actually doing work, being creative and comfortable enough to allow me to perform at work, I'd rather not wear a suit.

When everyone and anyone can wear a suit, and the meaningfulness of wearing one is thus lost, why wear one at all. I say not wearing a suit suits me perfectly.

Job losses, death's, theft's and bruises

Someone once told me that life will keep throwing up road blocks, you just have to know that you can drive straight through them.

Despite this however, I always thought there would be a breaking point, I mean we all have our limits. Alexander McQueen committed suicide when his mother died, Heath Ledger overdosed trying to find perfection and even Hitler committed suicide eventually, all be it too late if you ask me.

The thing is, I never seem to reach the end of my tether. I've not been through anything especially tragic, just the usual; cheating girlfriends, job losses, deaths, thefts and bruises. I seem to go through life getting small kicks and hits and after each one I feel sad, but I bounce back. I don't understand why I keep bouncing back, I just do. After each new small tragedy I just seem to take it on the chin, and get over it.

But then I think, why am I just taking this so casually, why don't I get worked up, why don't I hit something, exploded, cry, or even drink?

There is only one answer, "its all relative, even if we don't understand, its all understood" (Jack Johnson - Its all understood)

I continually hold out for that good event, the one Karma keeps me believing will come around. The thing is, I'm getting closer to asking if that's all we ever do. Are we always holding out for that one moment in our lives when we can say it has all been worth it? Because if we are, what happens after that. After all it's all relative, its only a good event because we have bad events to compare them with.

Karma has taught me that there is a definite balance between everything in the universe. Ultimately it can be simplified down to good and bad things, although these definitions are unendingly more complex.

We experience something good, and we experience something bad, they balance each other out eventually, all be it randomly and unpredictably. At its most basic it's like tossing a coin, you're either going to get a head or a tail, and eventually if tossed enough times you'll end up with 50% of each (many would argue that its more like 40:60, but thats an entirely different debate).

So when we reach this one moment we strive for, we are inevitably just going to experience the exact opposite somewhere further down the line to balance it out. Seeing as this balance will never end until we die, there is no ultimate high without an ultimate low.

So I say look out for all the high's rather then just that one big one. We all experience the lows, big or small, but we rarely appreciate anything but the big high's.

So yes, once again life has kicked me in the teeth, but it's the knowledge that something good is certain to happen, no matter how small, that is keeping me going.

Always celebrate the good things, no matter how small; from arriving at the bus stop just as the bus arrives, to getting the perfect job. Ultimately life will kick you in the teeth, MULTIPLE times. Finding the happiness in life is hard but it can be found none the less.

Finally life begins

A birthday's a birthday no matter where you are. No matter the location you’re always a year old, a year wiser and a year sicker.

23 birthdays behind me and I’m still ill after a couple of birthday drinks. I think it’s safe to say no matter how old and wise you get, you’re never impenetrable to the effects of alcohol. What does change however, are the excuses.

It wasn’t officially my birthday on Sat, but with my first rugby game in 6 years and the success of finally making enough friends to have a party, it felt just right to suggest a celebration. That is until of course you’ve experiences the mixed efforts of an entire rugby team enforcing both an initiation ceremony and a birthday celebration simultaneously upon you. I could debate the meaning of ceremony that is attached to a rugby initiation; its lack of finesse, its deficit of order, its irrational malice, but then the first rule of an initiation is “DON’T QUESTION THE INITIATION”.

There are so many things I could tell you about how wrong that night was, how any drink that you set on fire should not be a means to an ends and a hangover is not an end that justifies any means whatsoever, but there are more important facts that must be presented.

Firstly – Joining a sports club in Hong Kong is the fastest and finest way to make friends. Nothing beats being part of a team; being required, needed and respected. At the same time however, it’s also one of the scariest and loneliest things you can do. In my situation I was on my own going to training, knowing no one, and having to get up close and personal with 14 other men in a sport, that to any outsider would seem barbaric in nature. It’s a good thing I’ve spent that last 4 years hitting people for fun on the American Football pitch. The same game without pads however, is an entirely new thrill.

Secondly – You never feel pain, or at least until both the affects of alcohol and adrenaline have worn off the next day. It is around that time you figure out you experiencing a minor concussion rather then just a bad hangover. At least it means I can be kicked in the eye many more times, jut as long as I am either drunk, or on the pitch in an adrenaline fuelled high. It won’t however stop it hurting for the next week.

Thirdly – You can get a job, you can have loads of money, and you can stay in a house on the Peak (for the time being at least), go where only the famous people go, but when you’re sitting at home, with nothing to do, twiddling your thumbs and stitching your own jeans it finally hits you. Life really is nothing without Friends.

Friends make everything, they made Durham, they mate the SAINTS, and they officially make Hong Kong feel like home for me. I thank all my friends for the best birthday I could ask for and anyone could ask for, starting out in a new country, with a new job, a new club, a new sport and a NEW LIFE, aged 23.