It'sbeen a particularly quiet week for Pop Stop as the celebs seem to have held off from their usual romantic shenanigans. Some amusement was provided by Rachel Liang’s (梁文音) efforts to establish herself on the TV soap circuit. Liang, who rose to prominence through the One Million Star (超級星光大道) pop idol competition, has seen her recently released album Poems of Love (愛的詩篇) disappear from the charts with considerable rapidity. Now, Next Magazine reports that she has been proving far from adequate as an actress.
Liang, who has been enrolled in the cast of GTV’s (八大) soap Purple Rose (紫玫瑰), was photographed by Next during the reportedly innumerable retakes for one scene in which she is carried through the rain by the scrawny Tender Huang (黃騰浩), who quickly became exhausted. The budding starlet’s inability to learn her lines or understand director Lin He-long’s (林合隆) instructions was dismissed as nothing more than the usual learning curve of any young actress by Purple Rose producer Yu Hao-wen (余澔雯).
While Liang is working hard to carve a niche for herself in the entertainment industry, the “big-breasted bodacious baby face” (童顏巨乳) Kuo Shu-yao (郭書瑤), better known as Yaoyao (瑤瑤), continues on a trajectory to superstardom, with Next reporting that ever since her success in riding a mechanical horse in a much debated commercial for the online game Kill Online, her appearance fee has risen 20 times over.
Yaoyao is already planning a pictorial album, but told Next she would preserve whatever modesty she has left. “I don’t want to be like Shu Qi (舒淇),” she is quoted as saying. “Not everyone can manage to make the transition as successfully as she did.” Shu, whose early career as a glamour model for girlie magazines and actress in soft-core features such as Chin Man-kei’s (錢文錡) Sex and Zen II (玉蒲團二之玉女心經), moved into the exalted circle of big budget cinema.
In news of the amorous, Alan Luo (羅志祥) was this week left red-faced after Hong Kong model “Fanny” released details of their online liaisons. He was so embarrassed he deleted his Facebook account. This revelation was followed by three other Hong Kong lookers, model Annie G, actress Vonnie Lui (雷凱欣) and TV host Coffee Lam (林婉霞), claiming that they too are among Luo’s online “friends.”
There is some suggestion of hanky-panky, but Annie G said that Luo was just one of over 4,000 “friends” on her Facebook page, so the whole discomfiture over these revelations seems to add up to very little.
Coincidentally, or not, Luo’s album Trendy Man (潮男正傳) clings to the bottom of the Top 20 chart nearly five months after its release.
Is the whole storm in a teacup just a stunt to keep Luo’s CD sales up? This would hardly be unusual. But Luo better watch out as earlier this week Apple Daily reported that China’s State Administration of Radio Film and Television (廣電總局) had put a number of artists, including Annie Yi (伊能靜), Cecilia Cheung (張柏芝) and Edison Chen (陳冠希), all of whom have been involved in romantic or sexual revelations, onto a blacklist of celebs who are said to be corrupting public morals.
A subsequent Wenweipo (文匯報) report quotes officials as saying that the blacklist is directed against media organizations rather than a direct attempt to label the
A-listers personae non gratae.
On the evening of June 1, Control Yuan Secretary-General Lee Chun-yi (李俊俋) apologized and resigned in disgrace. His crime was instructing his driver to use a Control Yuan vehicle to transport his dog to a pet grooming salon. The Control Yuan is the government branch that investigates, audits and impeaches government officials for, among other things, misuse of government funds, so his misuse of a government vehicle was highly inappropriate. If this story were told to anyone living in the golden era of swaggering gangsters, flashy nouveau riche businessmen, and corrupt “black gold” politics of the 1980s and 1990s, they would have laughed.
When Lisa, 20, laces into her ultra-high heels for her shift at a strip club in Ukraine’s Kharkiv, she knows that aside from dancing, she will have to comfort traumatized soldiers. Since Russia’s 2022 invasion, exhausted troops are the main clientele of the Flash Dancers club in the center of the northeastern city, just 20 kilometers from Russian forces. For some customers, it provides an “escape” from the war, said Valerya Zavatska — a 25-year-old law graduate who runs the club with her mother, an ex-dancer. But many are not there just for the show. They “want to talk about what hurts,” she
It was just before 6am on a sunny November morning and I could hardly contain my excitement as I arrived at the wharf where I would catch the boat to one of Penghu’s most difficult-to-access islands, a trip that had been on my list for nearly a decade. Little did I know, my dream would soon be crushed. Unsure about which boat was heading to Huayu (花嶼), I found someone who appeared to be a local and asked if this was the right place to wait. “Oh, the boat to Huayu’s been canceled today,” she told me. I couldn’t believe my ears. Surely,
This is a deeply unsettling period in Taiwan. Uncertainties are everywhere while everyone waits for a small army of other shoes to drop on nearly every front. During challenging times, interesting political changes can happen, yet all three major political parties are beset with scandals, strife and self-inflicted wounds. As the ruling party, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) is held accountable for not only the challenges to the party, but also the nation. Taiwan is geopolitically and economically under threat. Domestically, the administration is under siege by the opposition-controlled legislature and growing discontent with what opponents characterize as arrogant, autocratic