I live in a fairly multicultural area. I think someone once counted the ethnicities represented in the eateries of Newtown at several dozen. Certainly, there are the usual varieties around but there are restaurants too like Tibetan and the African eatery called the Kilimanjaro with the mural of Africa on an outside wall.
Some of these are responsible for some quite peculiar names and spellings.
However, there are the names which are obviously a ploy for puns or for standing out in the crowd. When I was thinking about this post, there were lots more than I've written, but I forgot some.
Outrageously awful puns: Most of these are centred around the Thai places. So we have Thai-rific, Thai-phoon and near the student accommodation area on Parramatta Road near Glebe Point Road there is Uni-thai.
Just up the road from us we have a new Vietnamese noodle place called Pho Sure. So the puns aren't limited to Thai places.
Massacres of English and other languages: There are plenty of these round too.
How about the bead shop called Lavender de rock?
There's a hot bread shop just up the road from here called Le Bake. Fortunately the bread and the selection of types is better than the name might suggest and the service is pleasant and friendly.
I wince every time I walk past the hairdresser named Salon de African Pride. The French teacher in me winces as well as my feelings about the name as a whole.
As you can probably guess, my knitting is not getting much attention. I do a few rows here, a few rows there, but have found it hard to settle to anything. Although I will still have much to do once the house is sold, I think things will settle a bit. I'm hoping so. I did about an hour of simple embroidery yesterday but no knitting. My mind does not seem unsettled to me, but obviously my unconscious is having a field day. No knitting, no concentration, vivid strange dreams. Oh well, soon over I hope.