Now that the lies have settled, I can’t get the meatloaf out of my cranial sieve. Of all W2’s well-documented mega-mendacities, this little one bugged me the most. Why would a guy worth a quarter of a billion (a fraction of what our mayor is worth, BTW) want to pretend he eats poor food? Did he really think anyone would really believe Anntoinette was really bringing home the fecal material from Costco in one of her Cadillacs? Come on — the little people don’t want to imagine rich guys settling for what a convicted murderer would order as his last meal. The least he could have done was drop a few adjectives from the menu from his first dinner out after losing big. But I guess that would involve the truth.