🍝 THE DAILY SITDOWN 🍝

So, this whole Kyiv thing, right? Another goddamn night of fireworks over there. Heard it on the news this mornin', over my espresso – a real strong one, needed it after the fuckin' night I had. These Ruskies, they're like a bunch of spoiled brats, throwin' their toys – only their toys are drones and missiles, and the playground's Ukraine. *Capo di tutti capi* – they think they're so tough. They hit Kyiv, hard. Two people dead, thirteen hurt. Fuckin' tragedy, you know? But this ain't some fuckin' picnic. This is war, *capisce*? And in a war, people die. It's like that time Paulie Walnuts got clipped in that little bakery caper... Except, y'know, on a much larger, more… *explosive* scale. They say it was the biggest attack yet – 728 drones *and* 13 cruise or ballistic missiles. Seven hundred and twenty-eight drones! That’s more drones than I got fuckin' wiseguys workin' for me. Imagine the logistics! The coordination! It’s almost… impressive, in a horrifying, completely fucked-up kind of way. Like watchin' a really well-orchestrated, incredibly destructive, goddamn symphony of death. Buildings burnin’, cars wrecked. A healthcare center, *almost* completely destroyed. The Mayor, Klitschko – sounds like a fuckin' wrestler, right? – says so himself. A 68-year-old woman and a 22-year-old cop, gone. Fuckin’ shame. These guys ain't playin' games. This ain't some kinda fucking olive oil tasting; this is a full-scale assault. The air raid sirens went off for three hours. Three hours! Can you imagine the fear? The anxiety? People huddle up, waitin’ for the whole damn thing to blow over, their windows closed tight, so they don't get a lungful of smoke. And the Russians? Radio silence. *Zilch*. They ain't sayin' shit. Classic, right? Like they're some big shot who doesn't have to explain themselves. Fuck 'em. They’re cowards. Germany's Chancellor, some guy named Merz – sounds like a cheap brand of olive oil – he says diplomacy is done. The Kremlin guy, Peskov, echoes that. Even that blowhard Trump seems to be… well, let’s just say he ain't helpin'. Looks like this ain’t ending anytime soon. This whole mess… it’s a real downer. So, ya know, you gotta look at it this way: it's a real fuckin’ mess over there, a whole lotta suffering. But hey, at least my espresso's good. Fuckin' A. You want a biscotti?