A colleague decided to boast to the public of his culinary abilities:
“I,” he says, “there’s a roasted meal for myself – pasta under the mainesis, and today I will repeat, and what do you have for dinner?” – and it’s all the same as it’s roasted by pride, like the shit you repeat me and spit.
Putting the poker face, I answered:
"Well, I now have a easier choice of dishes: homemade shishel, plov and sacivi" (truth is true, my husband loves it all, I cook regularly for him)
What I get the answer: "Don’t worry, I can’t cook too..."
The spamming...
And no troll ever - just heard, apparently, unfamiliar words and sincerely sympathetized)