My kitchen is a mess, the cleaner rang in sick earlier. Anna I know you're reading now, and I know you were out partying last night, you lazy ass, I saw you in you friend's pictures on Facebook sculling a pint in Dakota of all places, loved the fake snuffles on the phone, by the way, you're fired!
So what have I got left to do? No you didn't guess, I do not clean my own kitchen, you moron, I get other people like you to do it. So I go out, buy fags and walk slowly, looking around to find a place to get some food. I live in a beautiful and upmarket part of Dublin (I can) and there is a large choice of crap restaurants where people go to eat not for their taste buds, but to be seen. They smile, chat lively, look around the uber hip surroundings, paying undeserved compliment to the food (oh it's gorgeous, isn't it Chloe? Ah yes Aoife it is amaaaaaazing), thinking that the fact they are paying top dollar and the fact that the waiter floats around as if he was on a catwalk in Milan must mean they are eating good food; in absence of taste buds these poor knobs don't know they are being taken for a ride, snob knobs.
Needless to say, I didn't go to any of those pretentious shitty places and I ended up in Pinocchio in Ranelagh.
The place looks like shit but the food is good, let me ask you a question you moron: do you ask how the food is when you go to an art exhibition? NO. So why the fuck do you expect a restaurant to look like an art exhibition. A restaurant is for food, good food and that's it, go to a fuckin' museum to look at beautiful things.
This is what I got: Linguine Allo Scoglio
I eat good food, you eat shit in lovely surroundings
It was very good, but I can make it 1,000 times better, stay tuned, if and when I feel like it I will post the real recipe for you morons to enjoy.
This is what was left:
Picture upside down to piss you off
Have a good weekend and remember; it's better to eat good food in a shitty place than eat shit in a fancy one.
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