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Upon arrival and in dire straights for a haircut, I did what no white man should ever do. I got a haircut in an Asian country.

Which culminated with a scalp massage. A cosmetological “Happy Ending,” if you will. A welcoming sign of things to come or an inappropriate modification of the word, ‘cosmetology’? Stay tuned. . .



Our first evening found us on Sentosa Beach. Site of our Dragon Boat races along the lagoon. Also home to 6 hours of open bar for 2,000+ people. We were greeted by a percussion line and dozens of locals, mostly young girls, showering us with two-handed waves and smiles.

Aaaah yeah.



As I forgot my flip flops, I made a B-line to the nearest hut to purchase a pair. The largest, a thermonuclear green couple with cute little white flowers for straps and two sizes too short, would later find themselves involuntarily hanging from the ears of an Aussie colleague.

The boat races provided for a few hours of partial-contact entertainment. To summarize, the island countries of Japan, England and Australia all capsized, while the Germans somehow took home the gold. Or a coconut. I can’t recall. It wasn’t me so who gives a fu*k. Thems the highlights.

I can’t tell you much of the next day, but it made a blurry finish in the late hours of the following morning, 70 floors up in the New Asia Bar. Which sounds kinda neat. Until you look out the windows and 9 hours of drinking meet vertigo and a new Asian hair cut.