Dubai Forever, Old Pedos And Pals — A Very Strange Case Of Epstein/Barr!

VEN (ABU DHABI)VEN‘s Senior Deep State/Zionist Conspiracy Correspondent Alexander Portnoy caught up with Jeffrey Epstein’s double Sunday evening at the posh Burj Al Arab Jumeirah hotel bar, where a spirited international Boy/Girl silent auction was just drawing to a close.

Mr Epstein’s double, a man known simply as Brendi Chelovek,  had just paid 200,000 (CHF) for a little Haitian boy  named Francois dressed as a young Josephine Baker who was still suffering the effects of what the local human traffickers  call his ketamine cocktail.

“Sometimes they make a fuss,” Mr Chelovek explained.  “It can get ugly fast. Just ask Tony Podesta — when you pay 10,000.00 for a small cheese pizza, believe me, you don’t want the pizza talking back!”

When asked if  he was aware of his striking resemblance to disgraced pretend-financier, sexual pervert, and recently suicided Mossad blackmailer Jeffrey Epstein, Mr Chelovek looked surprised.

“You know until his unfortunate shall we say auto-erotic  miscalculation,  people always mistook me for Anthony Bourdain.  I did a lot of consulting work for Tony,  along with Kamala, Chuck, Nancy Pelosi’s husband Paul, and of course Jerry Nadler.  Tony always talked too much, but he was amazingly photogenic!  Unlike say Elija Cummings or Al Gore.”

Suddenly, a loud disturbance broke out near the gold bar vending machine, as a stout man in horn rimmed glasses dressed in a rumpled business suite kicked the machine several times and then — exasperated — threw his bagpipes on the floor in an unbridled fit of peek.

Long-time Dubai resident Brendi Chelovek, pictured on the right, bears an uncanny resemblance to now-dead VIP under-age sex procurer to the rich and powerful and former Mossad agent Jeffery Epstein.

“Damn it! Jeff!” he yelled in our direction. “Do you have change for a 100,000.00 bill?  Preferably in Swiss Francs.  Or Euros.  The damn thing won’t take old Federal Reserve currency for some reason!”

Then realizing Mr Chelovek was talking to me.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Jeff, I meant to say Brendi.  No idea why I called you Jeff.  I don’t even know a Jeff.  Jesus, you don’t even look like a Jeff.   What the hell’s wrong with me?  It must be this goddamn jet lag!”

Developing . . . .