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This just arrived from an old school friend who loves to travel. It is being posted unedited. I have been to St. Petersburg, so I understand.
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St. Petersburg is a surprisingly nice city. When it was called Leningrad the Germans bombed the piss out of it so there are only a few real old buildings.
It's very clean and somewhat efficient for a city with 5 million people. I can't get used to the electric busses with the wires overhead but it's a lot better than sucking in the fumes from busses we have in our cities. They have no blacks at all so they have no one to blame for crime but themselves.
Now...The Russians...Fuck these people.
They don't smile or talk nice. Largely because their food sucks so bad there is nothing to look forward to during the day but the vodka. The women are pretty good looking but they have an attitude that they will mess you up if you even think about burying the bishop. Basically they are a cold bunch of miserable bastards who trust no one. There is no fire in their blood. Plus they threw my friends the Jews out because one of them shot an asshole Czar dead. A good Pastrami sandwich is out of the question never mind a good Chinese Restaurant. When the Jews were thrown out the Chinese fled because they had no one to cook for...especially on Sunday nights.
Talking about food...we had lunch in this well known restaurant with a stage where two potato headed mulaka's played an accordion and a mandolin looking thing. Their music resembled the sound of a cat running around Wong's Kitchen trying not to be in the WON TON mix. Every few minutes the accordion guy would let out a whistle. I think the noice came from his ass but i cant be sure. They sucked.
The salad was anemic with white vinegar dressing that resembled piss. No olive oil. Here again they are not lubricated so they probably don't shit well ergo no smiling. Incidentally the men have heads like Neanderthal Man. That coupled with advanced fetal alcohol syndrome make them look like fucking Martians.
Oh...I forgot...they first served a soup that was a belly wash. Twenty minutes after I ate I had projectile diarrhea in a public restroom with some crazed fat woman wanting to collect 20 rubles to sit or stand. I gave her a U.S. Dollar...she looked around both her shoulders and said...DIS FOR ME....and stuffed it into her bra where it looked like two 8 month old babies had nested. The stink in the WC made the elephant house at the Bronx Zoo smell like The Channel factory in Paris.
Now the ENTRE...yellow mashed potatoes with about six tiny chunks of what they called chicken. Likely dog or monkey meat in a sauce that resembled the puss from a pimple...absolutely gross.
This epicurean nightmare was finished with a plump cream covered with a chocolate top. My grandma Rose made the best cream puffs in the world and I wasn't expecting that kind of quality. I wasn't surprised. The chocolate top tasted like what farts smell like and the puff had undesolved sugar that made me think a filling came lose in my mouth. I refused the coffee or tea and went out on the streets to see the snarling fuckers walk by with their heads down. I looked in to one baby carriage out of curiosity to see if it was a boy or girl. The kid was snarling at his toy ducky while chewing the head of a rabbit. Not a toy rabbit...a real fucking rabbit. The kid was hideous. He looked like a cross between Leonid Breshnev, Anthony Quinn and Nancy Pelosi. Brutal.
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Photo by Frank Barning. It is of the Grand Cascade at the Peterhof.
This is a laugh riot. I've also been to St. Petersburg and my wife had a hotel lunch of some kind of white fish in that crappy yellow sauce the author was speaking of. Same result -- projectile vomiting and the next day and a half in bed with food poisoning. About a third of our tour group was laid low by this lunch. I had a mystery meat sandwich and escaped unharmed.
ReplyDeleteThe trolleys are fun to ride though. The one I rode derailed at one point and it was the work of about 10 minutes to re-rail it. Great fun to watch all the sweaty Russians yell and scream at the motorman & conductor as they gutted out the work.
Jim Ayres -- '63