Knockin on Heaven's Door

For such a tightly controlled country, there are a hell of a lot of knocking shops in China. On my 15 walk to work alone I see at least 4 or 5 of them, with their spinning barber's poles outside. In the West the colors used to symbolise the blood and bandages befitting the now neglected duties of a barber, which included being part-time doctor and dentist*. I have a feeling it's more the pole rather than the colors here which is symbolic though. Not that I'd ever go to such a den of sin of course, perish the thought, the very idea, etc etc. Well, the point's moot anyway considering how broke I am. But if I did want to partake in the pleasure of a woman of negotiable virtue, at least the clap clinic is only a 5 minute walk (possibly a ten-minute waddle, depending on one's condition) from work. * Possibly the most obscure piece of information I've blogged, even including the Frig/Freya reference