A few absolutely useless facts about me: I am shitposting, because it’s Sunday evening, I finished reading one book and am about to start another one. Or maybe I will watch a film: we’ll see.
1. I am rather indifferent to pizza and don’t quite understand the obsession with it. I mean, don’t get me wrong: it’s nice comfort food, especially if you eat it in a tiny family place in Florence or Pisa, but Adjaruli Khachapuri, in my opinion, is more flavourful.
2. I don’t recognise any of the nominees (or the winners for that matter) of the Brit Awards*. I sort of know *that guy* who posed in a dress a few years ago, and *this guy* who (unsuccessfully) copycatted David Bowie’s stripy jumpsuit from Kansai Yamamoto (1971? 73? something like that: I am too lazy to check), but that’s pretty much it. Yeah, boomer stuff, I know, but whatever, why not: I am *a* Babka, after all, so I execute my Babka’s rights of being blissfully unaware.
3. I am as far from knowing what’s trending on Netflix now as I was before I got the aforementioned Netflix.
4. I don’t understand why the Guardian (which, sadly, still pops up on my feed from time to time), hasn’t buried its Blind Date weekend column: you don’t know what proper cringe is until you see the awkward faces with forced smiles that illustrate it.
5. I am even grumpier in real life than I am online (I guess, you have figured that out already).
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* How do I know about the Brit Awards? It was mentioned by the BBC News numerous times, and yes, I am that old school person who still watches the BBC.
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