Quote:

bless my soul.


please.


i recently had the dubious pleasure of attending a private dining evening with the dual american-russian-satanist-cum-businessman entrepreneur and political game-meister, john podestavich. I suppose it servers me right for making a donation to hilary's presidential bid charity


and what an evening it was. Pizza this, pizza that, pizza everything.


john likes to cook spirits. I prefer to drink the damn things. But i make allowances for individual preferences where possible. John is a thin, aesthetic miserable looking fellow and no wonder when you consider the thin gruel laid before him at table.


i made a point of staying away from his ingredients, especially the dual milk ingredients along with the red stuff - which is a clear indication of his russian loyalties. Along with the green stuff too, i suppose.


the "fingernail and spitbite" soup really didn't look very appetising i avoided it on the excuse of a dodgy tummy but it looked like a case of either poor seasoning or simply loathsome ingredients in my opinion. Both i shouldn't doubt.


i also begged off the five-pizza pentagram entre, and meekly ate my ham sandwich instead.


and i explained that my diabetes forbade me to attempt the blood orange pudding with, ahem, real red blood. I also deemed it necessary to avoid anything that contains the beloved colour of trumpovich's face-paint.


damed if i going to eat anything that has commie subversive ingredients in it. No way


and generally i prefer to eat absent the accompanying earthquakes. But then as a guest you can't expect everything can you… and sacrifices have to be made.


and they were…


john's inverted-five-star grinchelin chef, samael, is one to steer clear off, i think. Damn commie subversive food cossack bastard type if i'm any judge.


my take away from the whole evening's grim fare was that john is a damn pinko subversive commie bastard russkie. Who would've thunk?


what's the world coming to?