No Dumping, Psychos, or Drunkards

Also: “Don’t connive at the driver’s violation of the passenger transport or traffic management regulations.”

My Ears!

They burn! They burn!
The honking in Shanghai, even 32 floors up with the windows closed, is absolutely maddening. I can only fathom it means “hello,” “good day,” “your hat is lovely” or something here, cuz it certainly serves no constructive purpose. Stop lights, crosswalks, painted lines in the road — they all mean nothing. Crossing the road, riding in a cab, or even walking on the sidewalk is done at your own peril.
Twice I’ve abandoned cabs as my urge to, um, not die, overtook. Apparently those cabs were meant for blind people.
The drivers who constantly spit out the window are also a nice touch. (Even though the info placard inside the cab mentions drivers are forbidden from doing so, as well as being required to use A/C should you request — they don’t.)
I think I may go ride the MagLev train tomorrow to the airport. Not because I need to go the airport, and not even because it picks one up at a convenient point, but because moving at such a rapid clip is just unfound novelty here in Shanghai.
Unrelated: I found underwear with a ruler in it in Hong Kong. That’s right — it’s “measure yourself” underwear. Other found undies include the sack scruncher, scrotal “blinds,” and the lacy staff sheath. Oh, to have so many upsetting gifts.
I also picked up a novelty penis. Throw it down and it explodes in a big rubber ball on the table, only to re-form all T2-like. What could possibly be more fun for $1?
Only one more full day, then 24 hours of travel to get home. But 3 weeks later or so, I think it’s back to Hong Kong.

Mmmmmmm… Bowels

I always find this amusing. Cuz I’m 13 and like fart jokes, I guess.
Today’s menu: Boiled Jew’s Ear and Marinated Bowels! #504 and #508 below.

Apparently “Jew’s Ear” is fungus, and well, bowels are bowels. It’s beef intestine.

Office Buddy II

This one I’m not so fond of:

Office Buddy

The Lizard Menace continues to plague Shanghai office buildings:

The Hotel Domestic Floor

Made it to Shanghai. There were “Typhoon 3” and “Red Rain” alerts today in Hong Kong, which means nothing to me, but given that it was raining buckets — sideways — as I walked to work this morning, I knew there’d be trouble.

Once getting to the airport, boarding was delayed 45, and when finally on the plane we were promptly told it’d be at least 2 hours and to get comfortable. They threw up X-Men 2, and started passing out sandwiches. Also, due to language barriers and a variety of re-bookings, I was in economy, which is just a pure joy when headed to the Chinese mainland. Watching Helen Thomas in a 3-way would be more comfortable.

Of course, once the flight was cleared, the movie was stopped never to be brought back. Was Charles Xavier’s death avenged? What became of Magneto’s mutant army?

Anyway…

Once we got to the hotel, I had checked in, and was in the elevator with my boat anchor of a suitcase and a maddening desire to wash off that sticky sweaty layer of human filth that coats one like Turtle Wax when traveling. The elevator door closes, then re-opens, and the front desk guy runs in shouting “room 3008! there problem!” So after waiting around for 10 minutes, I’m taken to the 21st floor. The Chinese National floor. The hallways are filled with smoke, half the doors are wide open, and inside many of the rooms men are gambling and sucking down every last cigarette within a 20 mile radius. There’s frequent shouting in the halls.

It’s about 94 degrees. At 11pm. There’s air condition controls in the room. They do absolutely nothing, but at least they look promising.

On Saturday, I’m off to Beijing for two days. Going to the Wall comma Great as well as various squares and other places which inevitable begin with “The People’s…”

Monday morning, it’s back to Hong Kong.

The following Monday, it’s back to Shanghai.

I used to live in San Francisco. I think.

And yes, David, pictures are coming.

Random Shanghai

In Seoul and finally headed home tomorrow evening.
Much too busy to post much, so here’s a mixed bag from Shanghai:

I Think I got Married

…what’s with the Chinese language Google ads? Me thinks something no workie right.

White Boy Parties in Shanghai…

…with Indians.
I’m off in an hour to do exactly that. Should be interesting.