Giulia, who is an Italian person, or just as plausibly an American college student who is doing a ‘catfish’ on me, sent me these enormous hi-def pictures of the desperate meals she is forced to eat in front of her absolutely filthy keyboard.
Giulia felt that I had been misrepresenting Italians as a good cooks.
She felt this was pernicious stereotyping and wanted it to be known that, in fact, Italians eat with just as much resignation and medicated numbness as everyone else.
The reality of being an Italian is not all pizza and pasta and slipping off into the soothing body high of a carbohydrate overdose on your two hour lunch break.
No, it’s eating flavourless biscuits and tinned tuna with carrot and watching the crumbs gather in your dirty keyboard.
It’s eating sad leftover store bought minestrone day in and day out, because deep down you don’t feel like you deserve that delicious calzone.
It’s wiping away your tears with a Minnie Mouse napkin, and letting loose a silent scream at your monitor as you submit these digital artifacts of your desperate life to a tumblr of diminishing returns run by a sad man no less able to deal with life than you are.