Clarissa's Blog

I went to a very fancy department store on business. I missed my feeding time and needed to eat something immediately but this fancy mall only had a fancy taco place. I abhor tacos and everything related to Mexican food but beggars can’t be choosers. It was either this or a hypoglycemic coma, so I accepted the tacos.

This was the right choice because those tacos had nothing Mexican about them. They were little works of art.

As we used to say, Comrade Stalin is a great chemist. He can turn any great man into a piece of shit and any piece of shit into a great man.