🍝 THE DAILY SITDOWN 🍝

So, this whole Ukraine thing, right? It’s a goddamn mess. A real *cazzo* of a situation. This Macron fella, the French guy, is running his yap about 26 Western countries sending troops to Ukraine – land, sea, *air* – the second a ceasefire happens. Ceasefire? Like that’s gonna happen. You’d think these guys learned something from watching *me* deal with Paulie Walnuts. A ceasefire is about as likely as me finding a good cannoli in Paterson these days. Fuggedaboutit. They call it a “Coalition of the Willing.” Sounds like a bunch of guidos at a bachelor party, waiting for the first sign of trouble to scatter. Except these guys are playing with nukes, not just each other’s wives. This whole thing is insane. Trump, that clown, is supposedly on board, maybe with air support. Zelensky, the Ukrainian guy, is begging for “maximum protection for Ukraine's skies.” Maximum protection? Sounds like a freakin’ pizza order. Maybe he shoulda thought about that *before* getting himself into this jam. Putin and Trump had a little pow-wow in Alaska, and since then? Forget about a deal. It’s colder than a mobster’s heart up there. Trump's also telling the EU to cut off Russian oil and gas – a good idea in theory, but they’re dragging their feet like they got lead in their shoes. The EU’s target is 2027 to end imports completely. 2027! By then, I’ll be sipping margaritas on some beach, forgetting this whole sh*t show even existed. That’s if I make it that long, of course. We all gotta watch our backs, you know? The Russians, they’re not playing games. Peskov, that Kremlin mouthpiece – a real stiff, reminds me of that accountant Carmine Lupertazzi used – says no foreign troops in Ukraine. He says it straight out: “Definitely not, they cannot.” See? These guys are serious. They ain't playing checkers, they're playing chess – with loaded guns. The Brits, with their Prime Minister Starmer, are talking about an “unbreakable pledge” to Ukraine. Unbreakable, huh? We’ll see about that. I’ve seen plenty of “unbreakable” promises shatter like a cheap glass at a wedding reception. And this whole situation is far more expensive than some cheap glass. This whole thing is a powder keg, see? One wrong move, and boom! Everybody's toast. The only thing worse than this whole thing is trying to get a reservation at that new Italian place downtown. Forget about it. This is a whole different level of screw-up, a geopolitical nightmare. Now, you wanna try this espresso? It's strong, just like my resolve when I have to deal with someone like Livia...