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Hello! I, Vladimir Putin, Command The Russian People: Get To F*cking!
https://www.wonkette.com/p/hello-i-vladimir-putin-command-theGary Legum
(I found the rest of Gary Legum's post more interesting that the repopulation of cannon fodder for the rump USSR.)
Season’s greetings, odious Western fucksticks of Wonkette! It is I, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, here to make the Christmas speaking at you! Ah, Christmas. Which you celebrate on wrong date. Also, you do not make twelve-course feast to honor Apostles. And you do not spend all night in church. There is perhaps one hour giving thanks to God, and 20 hours opening decadent number of expensive gifts and stuffing faces with ham. Then the googling of how to order gym membership or Wegovy or amphetamines.
But Vlad loves holiday for different reason: It is time for his end-of-year press conference! Is wonderful day when reporters line up for hours to ask good, patriotic questions to which I give strong, patriotic answers. Questions such as “Mr. President, please tell us how your leadership this year made Russia greatest country in world,” and “President Putin, please accept gift of Rolls Royce Ghost and humblest apologies from publisher who you have threatened with confinement in Siberian prison colony.”
. . .
In truth, Vlad is worried about Donald. The falling asleep in meetings! In front of cameras, even. Cameras! Donald loves those more than he loves own children. And the constant cognitive tests and the weird-looking hands. His health is of great concern to Vlad! Mostly because if he dies, JD Vance becomes president, and that guy is such a dick.
Anyway! S Rozhdestvom to all of Wonkette! Vlad wishes you great joy opening all your new Rollerblades and Labubus and guns on Christmas morning! Remember, no matter how materially happy you may be, you are still capitalist swine that Mother Russia will one day squash like particularly annoying ant!
But Vlad loves holiday for different reason: It is time for his end-of-year press conference! Is wonderful day when reporters line up for hours to ask good, patriotic questions to which I give strong, patriotic answers. Questions such as “Mr. President, please tell us how your leadership this year made Russia greatest country in world,” and “President Putin, please accept gift of Rolls Royce Ghost and humblest apologies from publisher who you have threatened with confinement in Siberian prison colony.”
. . .
In truth, Vlad is worried about Donald. The falling asleep in meetings! In front of cameras, even. Cameras! Donald loves those more than he loves own children. And the constant cognitive tests and the weird-looking hands. His health is of great concern to Vlad! Mostly because if he dies, JD Vance becomes president, and that guy is such a dick.
Anyway! S Rozhdestvom to all of Wonkette! Vlad wishes you great joy opening all your new Rollerblades and Labubus and guns on Christmas morning! Remember, no matter how materially happy you may be, you are still capitalist swine that Mother Russia will one day squash like particularly annoying ant!