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Ohio Woman Confesses To Being Pierogi Addict
by Mark on 8/27/2005 (0)

PARMA, OH - Parma, Ohio vice force detective Jimmy Jablonski switched off the wooshing ceiling fan and beamed an interrogation light on Leona Poldja's head like an apricot paczki on the back turn of a rotating baker's oven.

"Leona, we can make this hard, or we can make this easy. Which is it going to be? We have witnesses, you know. Christ sakes, you're ready to jump outta your skin right now. You think I can't see the signs? I've been on the vice squad for over 25 years."

Leona Poldja nervously swabbed a stinging tear from her red-as-a-245-dollar-Las-Vegas-Greyhound-weekend-junket-rider's-red eye.

"*SOB!* I-I told you, I did nothing wrong! It's just my habit! I started when I was only 3! It's not my fault...I-I just can't help myself!..."

Mama Leona Poldja was not alone in her addiction. Quickly surpassing crystal meth and heroin as abuser substances of choice, a new kid was on the block, a nefarious, insidious kid, the kid of the most horrible dimension, that kid from the mean corner, that mixture of meat and butter and flour and crispy golden goodness...Kid Pierogi.

All over America, addicts are falling prey to the irresistible charms of Kid Pierogi. The patterns are always the same: first a few late night plain cheese with a dab of sweet salted butter, and then from there, it snowballs into the unthinkable...pierogis with imported English cheddar cheese and prosciutto ham, pierogis with portabello mushrooms, broccoli and swiss, chicken pierogis with blue cheese and cayenne pepper, and not just once or twice, or even thrice, a day, but around the clock, at home at work, and even on the road. Kid Pierogi has brought America to its gastrointestinal knees, in a figurative sort of way, of course...

Shaking like Linda Tripp in court, Mamma Poldja could stand no more.

"O-Okay! I confess! I'm addicted to pierogis! Please help me, officer Jablonski! *SOB!*...I-I need help! Oh God, I need help!"

The next step for Mama Poldja was 6 weeks at Emil Wizniowski's half-way house of pancakes in nearby Twinsburg, where a strict regime of bland vegetables, buckwheat stacks and smoked German sausages promised to restore Poldja to an even keel of "tasteless culinary drudgery and meaningless calories." No statistics are currently available on success or relapses, although some pierogi experts claim results are "somewhat discouraging."ispl0" style="display:no


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