Only in Taiwan

I was in Carrefour earlier this afternoon where I thought I’d have a look at the books as I needed something new to read to Christopher.  The first section I saw had this labelling:

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As one of life’s dreadfully dull nit-pickers, I was close to spontaneous combustion, I can tell you.  Then again, Carrefour is a French company, so why should their English have to conform to my standards?  Dictionnaire would have made more sense.  I’m told that the Chinese words mean ‘if you spot the error, you need to get out more’.  Or something.

Meanwhile, at Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Art, I was thrilled to see the following warning in the park grounds:

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For reasons which I cannot understand, some have suggested that a bird crapping on your head is lucky.  A tiny tweeter’s turd trickling towards Turner’s tonsils is certainly not the kind of luck I need, although catching me belly laughing in the museum grounds is improbable, to be fair.

On a more positive note, one of Taiwan’s favoured treats is papaya milk.  Here’s the tiny boy having his seven-elevenses:

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Luckily, there’s a 7 Eleven or a Family Mart on every other corner (I’ve heard it said that you’re never more than 200 feet from a convenience store in Taiwan – or was that 10 yards from a rat in London? – no matter), so a half decent cup of coffee is readily available any time.  The papaya milk is good, too.

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