While Tyra Banks -- or even her likeness -- won't be dancing atop the bar of \nnewly opened Coyote, the place does share a few traits with the \nestablishment made famous by the movie Coyote Ugly, in which poor actresses \ndance on bar tops at a randy club for the entirety of a feature-length film. \nWaitresses and bartenders rush the bar at approximately 11:30pm and 1:30am --or whenever else they feel like it -- for a choreographed dance routine. \nMusic is mainstream hip hop or house when live bands aren't playing, but a \ndifferent group plays every night from 10:30pm to 1:30am. Otherwise, the \neffort to be like Coyote Ugly is a nice try, but it falls short in emulating \nthat fictional bar in the way that an enchilada in Taipei doesn't quite \ntaste like an enchilada. \nThe stark contrast between Coyote and the club the next door, Plush, keeps \nbusiness at Coyote steady. Rather than drawing the celebrity crowd, it tends \nto draw "businessmen who can play," and its managers are proud not to be \nplush, nor Plush. Plush may be posh, but Coyote is comfortable. \n"Our club is dominated by regulars and it doesn靖 take many visits for us to \nbe familiar with you. There's a family feel on weeknights, but we're wild \nand crazy on Friday and Saturday nights", said supervisor Irene Yeh. \nTuesday nights are getting rowdier at Coyote, too. Contrary to most of the \ncity's clubs, Ladies' Night falls on Tuesday, and girls dressed in \ninappropriately short skirts pay no cover charge and drink free champagne. \nIf parading your caboose is not your style, cover is NT$350 on weeknights \nand NT$500 on weekends. Drinks start at NT$200. \nCoyote is located on the 12th floor of Core Pacific shopping mall, 138 Pateh Rd., Sec. 4, Taipei (北市八德路4段138號，京華城購物商場12樓).
April 6 to April 12 Han Chinese settlers from Zhangzhou and Quanzhou were such fierce rivals that simple activities such as buying supplies for festivals would often result in armed violence. It’s said that this was especially severe just before Tomb Sweeping Festival, and to prevent bloodshed Qing Dynasty officials ordered them to conduct their rituals on different days. This is not unlike the government urging people to visit their ancestors’ graves on days other than yesterday’s official Tomb Sweeping Day, also known as the Qingming Festival, to curb the spreading of the COVID-19 pandemic. While the Chinese Nationalist Party
As students wait outside an exam room in Seoul’s affluent Gangnam district, the air is tense. A girl in a school uniform rocks a guitar back and forth in her hands next to a boy who stares nervously into his fringe. Another girl sitting on a nearby bench adjusts her crop top. But in a neighborhood filled with English and maths crammers, this is no normal exam room. Mudoctor Academy is a K-pop training school, where dozens of students between the ages of 12 and 26 line up for their chance to audition for a visiting entertainment scout. Kevin Lee is
The lights shone more brightly than anything I’d ever seen. One million blinding watts strafed across the leaves of countless cannabis plants that peeled off in neat rows in every direction. The warehouse was as pristine as a pharmaceutical facility, and as we strode around in crisp white nylon overalls and box-fresh wellies, the atmosphere was surreal — interstellar, almost. It felt as if we were on a mission to Mars. It was definitely a glimpse of the future. It was 2017 and I had been invited to visit this legal medical cannabis “grow” in the town of Gatineau, near Ottawa.
The God of Medicine had an uneventful birthday yesterday. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, even celebrations for Baoshengdadi (保生大帝), also known as the God of Medicine, were significantly downsized across the nation. Tainan’s Singji Temple (興濟宮), for example, held a low-key candle placing ritual Monday night and focused on promoting its artifact exhibition featuring its recently restored door god paintings. Created by renowned temple painter Chen Shou-i (陳壽彝) in 1977, the doors were painstakingly restored over 18 months by Lee Chih-shang (李志上) and his team at Ming Shiang Art Conservation (名襄文化) and reinstalled last year. Lee, who calls himself a