Practicing my Chinese in London

One of the advantages to staying in Soho is that I'm about 60 seconds walking from Chinatown, where I've had the opportunity to practice a bit of my Mandarin these past couple of weeks, courtesy mostly of these Taiwanese girls, who taught me how to say almond cookie, steamed pork bun, I want it heated up, spicy food, fuck your mother, and are you trying to kill me?

I returned the favor by teaching Evey how to throw a gang sign. Then I told her that she should never actually use gang signs, especially in America; on the other hand, saying "fuck your mother," in Chinese, apparently isn't really all that insulting, although I chalk most of that up to the fact that the girls found it funny to hear a foreigner say fuck your mother in Taiwanese slang.

麻婆豆腐: Mápó dòufu (Mapo tofu); Chinatown, London.

The Harp Bar, Covent Garden, with Evey, Yong Qi, and Wenny.

Nothing about this was responsible, or mature; but, admit it: She looks kinda bada$$, yeah?