I saw the signs

I’m back from two weeks of partying / travelling / drinking / sleeping (not enough sleeping!) around China. Although hardly original, I have developed a fetish for taking pictures of funny signs that I see, and here are a few:

Dorae-mad

So after a chance encounter one day back in 2003, I fell in love with a blue, robotic cat called Doraemon. He became very special to our family (Jamie, Daisy and myself) and we cared for him dearly.

A trip to Hong Kong and Thailand only served to reinforce my love for the little cat with the big pocket, as he is truly a superstar in Asia. I even bought a pair of jeans with his fat face on so I could carry him around with me (or behind me) wherever I went. China too is feeling the nip from the claws of Dorae-mania…but recently I’ve realised that I may have gone too far…

It started innocently enough. A trip to the supermarket, a slight sniffle…before I knew it we had three boxes of Doraemon tissues on our living room table. So soft…so nice…a bit weird…

On the next shop visit, I needed some snacks – and look who provided them! Delicious gummy sweets in three super flavours! It was starting to become a lifestyle choice, and I didn’t care!

Then the addiction began. Boxes and boxes of little cakes. So soft and delicious, with faux-creme and faux-jam inside…perfect any time of the day or night. They became my staple diet…

I started calling them by name (before I ate them). I liked to give them a little backstory too. Barry (the cake) WANTS to make me happy! He wants to be eaten! I just kept eating them…I lay in bed and downed five…ten…fifteen at a time. Then it hit me…I couldn’t move.

I tried to wiggle my toes but nothing worked…I lay for hours, whimpering in the sea of empty wrappers and crumbs. I had to get out of this Doraemon daze. I rolled myself onto the floor (the impact cushioned by the mountain of Doraemon tissues) and crawled towards the bathroom. I realised it had been days since I’d washed, brushed my teeth or….been to the toilet.

I made it…but as I reached for the toilet roll I realised that I could never, ever escape:

I’d gone Dorae-mad.