Minister of Education Tu Cheng-sheng (杜正勝) seems to have unwittingly educated Hong Kong's glitterati on personal hygiene and public etiquette. The Apple Daily earlier this week published images of Hong Kong diva and actress Coco Chiang (蔣怡) with her finger up her nose having a good rout at a shopping mall.
Pop Stop readers will recall Tu kicked up a stink when he was "caught" picking his nose and sleeping during a legislative session. Government Information Office (GIO) Minister Shieh Jhy-wey (謝志偉) later claimed Tu's nasal fingering was a protest to poor behavior in the legislature. Hmmm.
At least Chiang wasn't sleeping on the job.
In other Hong Kong showbiz news, Maggie Cheung (張曼玉) reportedly can't get enough of European men. The Cannes Film Festival award-winning actress, who was once married to French director Olivier Assayas, spent five days shacked up in a hotel with a German mystery man. Calling their relationship "love at first sight," the actress seems to have moved on from her other failed love affairs.
Meanwhile, at home, before Taiwanese bombshell Lin Chih-ling (林志玲) came along, there was Stephanie Hsiao (蕭薔). Once described as the prettiest "artist" - whatever that means - in Taiwan, Hsiao has struggled to get back on top of the celebrity pedestal, though she still has considerable drawing power for gossip hounds.
A Chinese blog last week showed images of Hsiao being "forced" to drink at a KTV in China. The shots momentarily shattered the philanthropic image that Hisao had cultivated with stunts such as selling 100 autographed pictures of herself to raise money for wigs to give to chemotherapy patients. The model maintained her good-girl image by telling the media that she couldn't have been forced to drink because children were present.
Suzanne Hsiao (蕭淑慎) is back on the celebrity circuit. Well, sort of. Having recently left a rehabilitation center after testing positive last year for ketamine and cocaine, which she claimed originated from augmentation surgery, the singer's attempted comeback - this time on the big screen - isn't making much headway.
Apple reports that Hsiao agreed to star in a movie in which she removed her clothes for a cool NT$800,000. At the time the straight-to-DVD director Wong Jing (王晶) said the shamed starlet's talent could make her Taiwan's next sex queen. Offers for more movies have dried up, however, as the burgeoning actress' bedroom performance has been likened to that of a dead fish (死魚).
With his sugarcane juice stall at Monga Nightmarket (艋舺夜市) floundering due to COVID-19, things took a turn for the worse for Lin Chih-hang (林志航) when he was furloughed from a part-time job. The crowds are trickling back to this nightmarket in Taipei’s Wanhua District (萬華), but Lin is now so busy that he has hired a friend to run his stall. As the sole driver of the night market’s delivery service, established on April 12, Lin takes on an average of 20 orders on weeknights and over 60 on weekends, with his father helping out when he is too busy.
May 25 to May 31 Three months before his 90th birthday in 2015, Chung Chao-cheng (鍾肇政) woke up shortly after midnight and experienced a inexplicable sense of clarity. “Suddenly, my mind started going all over the place. There were some recent memories, but also many that I thought I had long forgotten. They would appear and disappear from my brain one after another, and they were so clear, so lucid. Even the memories from 70, 80 years ago felt like they happened yesterday. I suddenly thought, if I still remember so much, why don’t I write everything down?” Despite his solid
In troubled times, people have been known to hoard currency at home — a financial security blanket against deep uncertainty. But in this crisis, things are different. This time cash itself, passed from hand to hand across neighborhoods, cities and societies just like the coronavirus, is a source of suspicion rather than reassurance. No longer a thing to be shoved mindlessly into a pocket, tucked into a worn wallet or thrown casually on a kitchen counter, money’s status has changed during the virus era — perhaps irrevocably. The pandemic has also reawakened debate about the continued viability of what has been
Green, spiky and with a strong, sweet smell, the bulky jackfruit has morphed from a backyard nuisance in India’s south coast into the meat-substitute darling of vegans and vegetarians in the West. Part of the South Asia’s diet for centuries, jackfruit was so abundant that tonnes of it went to waste every year. But now India, the world’s biggest producer of jackfruit, is capitalizing on its growing popularity as a “superfood” meat alternative — touted by chefs from San Francisco to London and Delhi for its pork-like texture when unripe. “There are a lot of inquiries from abroad... At the international level, the