ladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office and working with documents. Suddenly the phone rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich immediately picked up the handset. - Hey, bro, - Oleg Vladimirovich Deripaska, chairman of the "Russian Aluminum" board of directors' voice sounded in the handset, - can you lend me some cash? - How much? - "business-like" answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - A billion, - Oleg Vladimirovich said, - Or less... how much do you have.... - A billion?! - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was surprised. - What for? - I want to buy Chrysler, - Oleg Vladimirovich said. - And I am a little short of money. - For a billion? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was even more surprised, - Is it a new model or what? - No, - Oleg Vladimirovich explained, - I want to buy the whole company. And I have only 5 billions. I think, it's not enough. - Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, - Explain to me one thing. Why are you buying only the worst companies in the world, huh? Why don't you buy at least one normal company? I don't know, BMW, for example? Or, in the worst case, Toyota? - Why would I need them for that kind of money? - Oleg Vladimirovich murmured, - I'm not going to make cars anyway. - Then what you are going to do? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was confused. - I know what, - Oleg Vladimirovich answered, - To sell aluminum. The worse plant is the more aluminum it buys. And, BTW, the worse car is - the more gas it needs. It's good for business anyways. - So you are... - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ didn't understand, - Are you going to sell aluminum to yourself? Like Khodorkovsky? - Oh, please..., - Oleg Vladimirovich quietly answered, - So, are you going to lend me some? - Well, I don't have on me that much... - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered, - May be, after the salary? - It will be too late, - Oleg Vladimirovich said and hang up. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ thoughtfully looked towards his presidential window.
Thursday, March 2, 2006 22:07:56
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ had a dinner in his dining-room together with Mikhail Sergeevich Gorbachev. The two men faced a saucer with pancakes, a green tin of granular salmon caviar, a piece of New Zealand butter in a silvery pack, a bottle of "Gzhelka" vodka, and two glasses from IKEA.
"A modest party you have", mumbled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, putting some caviar on his pancake, "Where are the guests?"
"What guests?.. Now I have none...", Mikhail Sergeevich waved his hand in disappointment and filled his glass with vodka.
"Well, to you!", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, raising his glass, "If not you, I would be still in GDR, saving money for a 'Lada'. Thanks, Bro." The two men drank the health of Mikhail Sergeevich.
"You see, how it all happened", putting some dew-coated butter on his pancake, "I gave you all the opportunity to earn billions, and I myself now have to advertise pizza".
"A historical unfairness", nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich™, chewing his pancake, "This is going to happen to me as well. To everyone, in fact".
"I wonder", asked Mikhail Sergeevich, refilling their glasses with vodka, "Who's next? How can we guess?"
"There's nothing to guess", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, taking the glass into his Presidential Hand, "Lukashenko is sure to be the next. He has a Maidan of his own already".
"You don't say so!", exclaimed Mikhail Sergeevich in surprise, "Well, everything flows and changes, and we are getting old, aren't we, Bro?"
"I still have some time left", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, raising the glass, "Seven hundred fourty-five days more!"
"You mean what?", asked Mikhail Sergeevich, raising, in turn, his glass, "Are you counting the days?"
"It's Kasparov who counts", answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "I have no time for it - I'm ruling the country. Cheers, Bro! To perestroika!"
The two men drank again.
Thursday, March 2, 2006 16:13:14
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and Yuri Mikhailovich Luzhkov, the Mayor of Moscow, were sitting on a wooden bench in the inner yard of Kremlin and enjoying the spring sun.
"What a nice winter we had, said Vladimir Vladimirovich™", stretching his Presidential Shoulders.
"A beautiful one", agreed Yuri Mikhailovich, "but there was too much snow".
"But that's good", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "when there's much snow. We can do alpine skiing".
"Well, skiing for you, and cleaning the streets for me!", grumbled Yuri Mikhailovich, "My janitors can't have a sleep for days!"
"I don't know what your janitors are busy with", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "but snowbanks in Kremlin remain untouched".
"But my janitors are not let in the Kremlin", complained the Mayor, "your FSO service or some kind of that... with flashing lights on their caps. They say - it's kind of forbidden to pass with shovels and brooms".
"Of course it's forbidden!", said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "What if they are terrorists? They do the right thing when do not let them in".
"I tell you - if so, then why not build a dome over the Kremlin?", Yuri Mikhailovich took off his cap.
"A dome?", wondered Vladimir Vladimirovich™.
"That's right, a dome", nodded Yuri Mikhailovich and showed Vladimir Vladimirovich™ his cap. Built of monolithic concrete. A light and beautiful stressed structure. And I've got a guy, an expert in this.
"Who's the guy? Nodar Konchelli?", asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, gazing in delight at Yuri Mikhailovich's cap.
"Nodar Konchelli", confirmed Yuri Mikhailovich, "Why not? He has built a lot of pretty domes. Take for example the one on the Temple of Christ the Saviour". Yuri Mikhailovich waved his hand somewhere towards the Volkhonka Street.
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ still gazed at the cap of Yuri Mikhailovich.
"Well...", murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "Why, maybe... we won't be watched, besides".
Yuri Mikhailovich spinned his cap on his finger.
"And if it collapses...", mumbled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, "it's for the better..."
Yuri Mikhailovich was spinning his cap and smiling.
The first spring drops hitted the platinum windowsills of Kremlin's Building 1.
Monday, September 5, 2005 17:26:31
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was going to the Kremlin by car. The militia men in a full uniform were saluting him, staying along the Rublevo-Uspenskoe road; the smart first-formers with the huge bunches of flowers were sitting in the cars at the roadsides; the optical sights of the hidden snipers were shining here and there. - The first of September, - smiled sadly Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - The holiday with the tears in your eyes Suddenly the phone for the Governmental calls rang in a pouch of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ put his hand into the pouch of his Presidential Suit, took out the phone with the golden double-headed eagle instead of a keyboard and pressed the only button. . - Hello! the distant excited voice sounded in a receiver, - Who is there? - Where are you calling from? answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ mechanically. - It doesnt matter for me absolutely! cried the voice, - We are sitting on the roof here, and its water all around us! Who is there? - Here is Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was slightly taken aback, - Putin. The President of Russian Federation How did you get here? - Oh - the girl was confused, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™! My name is Katya Pyleva, I am from Cheboksary! We need help! - Cheboksary? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in a cheerless tone, - Whats happening there?! No, please, dont say its not today - No, nothing is happening in Cheboksary! the girl was crying, - We are in New Orleans! We are sitting on a hotels roof all surrounded by water! We are being flooded! - I see, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, breathing out with a sense of relief. - We need help! didnt stop the girl, - Please, call our parents! - But why parents? said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I will give a call to Shoigu directly right now, we will prepare a plane we will rescue you ourselves! We do not leave our people to the mercy of fate! - No-no! cried the girl even more loud, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™! Dont call Shoigu! You would better call our parents! Please! - All right then - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Well if you want it, I will call your parents. And then Shoigu! - Write down the telephone number! cried the girl and started to dictate the figures. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ shrugged his shoulders, took his Presidential Parker out of his porch and started to write down the figures on the snow-white shirts gland.
Thursday, September 1, 2005 15:12:53
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office reading a summary of the world news for today. - Eighty per cent of New Orleans is flooded, - was reading Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - The marauders are pillaging in the city. The corpses are drifting in the streets. What a nightmare Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned the page. - Thousands of people perished in a jam, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ continued reading, - Economic crisis in Indonesia. The hurricane is approaching Taiwan Vladimir Vladimirovich™ shook his head, put the summary aside and looked at his Presidential loose-leaf Calendar. - The thirty first of August, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - And it is still silent here The Kremlin Clock started to warble behind the window.
Friday, June 17, 2005 02:14:51
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ came to his office in the Kremlin. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ went out of his armoured limousine Mercedes-Pullman, smoothed his presidential suit and steadily entered the doors of the first building. Two Militia officers were standing in the entrance hall. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ passed them, nodding. The two Militia officers didnt move. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was surprised bud didnt show it. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ went through the short corridor to the elevator, near which an attentive Federal Guard officer was standing. The flashing light at the high service cap was not blinking, and he did not even stir when Vladimir Vladimirovich™ appeared. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ frowned and pressed the call button for an elevator. An elevator wasnt working. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gave a shrug of his shoulders and went to the stairs. The staff was standing in the different positions. An officer in a grey suit was approaching his foot to step the next stair, but was late to do it. A young man with a folder in his arms was bending to the ear of a nice girl with a hard-set smile. A lady with a high hair-do was standing with an opened mouth having her cell phone near her ear. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked around embarrassedly. The whole space around him was filled with the set figures. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ made an ascent of the stairs carefully, avoiding standing people, and went through the long Kremlin corridors, glancing in the offices. People were sitting at their tables. Some stayed put working with the documents, some over the tea cups, some with the receivers in their hands. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was walking through the corridors, and a singing silence was covering him. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was frightened. Suddenly the Deputy Chief of Staff, Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, appeared out of the turning. Vladislav Yurievich was holding a voltmeter gauge in his hands. - Bro! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sprang forward to Vladislav Yurievich Whats up?! Am I dreaming?! - Thats not about dreaming, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, spooling the wire on the voltmeter, - Thats an electricity blackout. Nothing is working. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ heaved a sigh of relief.
Friday, June 17, 2005 02:14:04
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ called the President of Latvia Vaira Vike-Freiberga. - Hi, Sis, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - So, are we quits? - Bro! exclaimed Vaira Vike-Freiberga, - It is so nice of you! Charmant! Beautiful! They are so so - Not at all, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ a bit confused, - Every President should own a collection of the sacral items. You need to start with something. Thats why I decided to help you so to say, voluntarily and disinterestedly - Thank you, Bro! Vaira Vike-Freiberga was glad, - And whats that? - This is - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and mused for a few seconds, - This is the ears of the donkey on which Jesus entered Jerusalem. - How could it happen?! exclaimed Vaira Vike-Freiberga, - It cant be true! Where did you get it?! - Hey, havent you heard this? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, - I am his direct descend. - Whose?! said Vaira Vike-Freiberga in surprise. - Jesus, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - - the President of Latvia said slowly, - But that is so an expensive present! - Thats because we are friends, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, put the phone down and immediately presses the button for calling his Deputy Chief of the Staff, Vladislav Yurievich Surkov. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Could you please ask them between this and then, who of the Presidents owns in his collection the ears of the donkey, on which Jesus entered Jerusalem? - What?! Vladislav Yurievich asked in surprise, - Which donkey, Bro? - Did Jesus enter Jerusalem on the donkey? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Seems like yes, - answered Vladislav Yurievich. - If it is true, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - That means that somebody must have this donkeys ears. Is it logical? - Logical - murmured Vladislav Yurievich. - So find this out, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and turned off. - What an fiendish heat - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and loosened his presidential tie, - Brain is melting
Friday, June 17, 2005 02:05:12
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ decided to go to the Kremlin to work for a while. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ went out on a staircase of his residence in Novo-Ogaryovo. In a second an armoured Mercedes-Pullman limousine drove to the staircase. The officer of the Federal Guard Service with a flasher on a tall service cap mannerly opened a rear door for him. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sat into a car, the door shut, and a limousine set off smoothly. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ heard the gravel whispering beneath the wide tires, heard the automatic gate flew open Suddenly a limousine stopped. The mens voices sounded in the street. - Whats up? asked in surprise Vladimir Vladimirovich™ his diver. - Somebody is conducting work, - answered a driver, - Equipment, workers are there they are repairing a road - Which road? didnt understand Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The one that is before your gate, - answered a driver. - Chechens? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ quietly. - Seems like no, - answered a driver, - Not Chechens. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ opened a limousines door with decision, went out and reached the opened gate. The road from Novo-Ogaryovo has disappeared. Instead of asphalt, in front of Vladimir Vladimirovich™ spread a bumpy dirty track with an Ural lorry, a bulldozer and an asphalt finisher on it. - Whats happening here? strictly asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ the three workers in the bright cloths, who were smoking serenely aside. - Repairing a road, - answered on of them with a solemn face, - Look, weve tapped asphalt - I see, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - But why just before my house? Do you know who am I?! - We know, - answered a worker, - How could we not. But we are repairing a lot. Weve got a plan. - Correct everything urgently! ordered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and went back to the house on foot. - Well, how can we make this - was telling a worker, rearing his hands, - We have tapped, but there was no order to asphalt it - Youll see my order, - was murmuring Vladimir Vladimirovich™, grabbling a reserve stock of the stamped paper in his pouches, - Youll see
Friday, June 17, 2005 02:02:52
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office writing some presidential decrees. Suddenly the tall doors of his office flew open and the Minister of International Affairs, Sergey Victorovich Lavrov, came in at a great lick. Sergey Victorovich approached to the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and carefully put on it a wooden medium-sized box with two golden double-headed eagles at the varnished sides. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ set aside his presidential Parker and carefully opened the box. Two long donkeys ears were lying inside he box on the red velvet. - Are these ears of a dead donkey? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked busily. - Dont you think, - answered Sergey Victorovich, - that we are flayers? - Send it, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, covering the box, - Say, that we have solved the problem with the Pytalov region. Sergey Victorovich nodded, took the box in his arms and went out quickly. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned a hand to his presidential decrees.
Friday, June 17, 2005 02:02:04
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office working with the documents. The May sun was shining outside a window, the tourists were walking at the Red Square, the country was having rest, but Vladimir Vladimirovich™ had no time for this. Suddenly a phone for the Governmental calls rang in the pouch of the presidential suit. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ stuck his hand in the pouch, took out the phone with the golden double-headed emblem instead of a key-pad and pressed the only button. - Listen, Bro! the voice of the Prime Minister, Mikhail Efimovich Fradkov, sounded in a receiver, - What are you doing at the moment? Lets go fishing! - Fishing? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, - Have you deserved fishing, um? Have you country let you go fishing? Have you provided them with a good life?! Have you raised the living standards for your people, um?!? - Indeed, Bro - Mikhail Efimovich inserted a few words in a speech, frightened, - What are you - I will tell you what am I! was shouting Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - The President is working and they wanna go fishing! All the Prime Ministers are working! All! Fishing - But its Saturday - said Mikhail Efimovich in a small voice. - Saturday?! couldnt stop Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Are you a Jude, as you are having Saturday?! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ with a free hand picked up the phone for calling the foreign Heads of the States and shouted: - Give me Yushenko! - Just a moment, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - a nice womans voice sounded in a receiver, followed by a click and a voice of the President of Ukraine, Victor Andreevich Yushenko, sounded there. - Listening. - Listen, Bro! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Now tell me, what is your Prime Minister doing at the moment? - Walking with both the Social-Democratic and the Regions Parties, - answered Victor Andreevich, - Tootling on the pipes and tucking. - Thats it!!! shouted Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in a phone for the Governmental calls, throwing away the phone for calling the foreign Heads of the States, - You should take Yulenka for a model! When its a sowing time she goes sowing! Have the sarcophagus holed she goes constructing! The Eurovision happens she is tootling on the pipes and tucking! And what you only want is fishing!!! I will retire you!!! - Hey, whats up, Bro! was babbling Mikhail Efimovich, - We have already turned back! We are going to the Kremlin! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ lifted and threw the phone for Governmental calls in a wall by main Presidential force.
Monday, June 6, 2005 22:47:50
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his Deputy Chief of Staff Vladislav Yurievich Surkov were playing the table-football game. - Is there any possible way, - was dreaming Vladimir Vladimirovich™, striking the white ball with the footballer at a spring, - So that we always win in a football?.. - Always? - asked Vladislav Yurievich, riposting Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Well, imagine instead of these small footballers, say, androids - Is it possible? said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, repulsing an angle attack. - Everything is possible, - said Vladislav Yurievich, sending the ball to the centre from the cushion, - We have got infinite possibilities. - And, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got into the offensive, - Will the androids always win? - Sure, - Vladislav Yurievich organised the defence, - The computer overcomes Kasparov, you know Suddenly the men stopped speaking, threw the figures and, with the eyes wide opened, stared at each other. The ball rolled to the playing table corner sadly. - Genius! whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and Vladislav Yurievich simultaneously. - I will sign off the budget authorisation immediately, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - You will receive all the needed financing. - This would be the best android, - was whispered excitedly Vladislav Yurievich, - The best of all that I have ever created! - Is one billion enough? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ busily, writing down something on the piece of a presidential stamped paper. - A nuclear-fusion reactor, - was whispering Vladislav Yurievich, not hearing Vladimir Vladimirovich™ at all, - No, better two! Even the mobile phones have two cameras Two nuclear-fusion reactors! A built-in psychotropic canon! No, two of them! In every eye and the reserve one in the third eye! - Im calling Kudrin immediately, - was saying Vladimir Vladimirovich™, pressing some buttons on his presidential navigation console. - An armoured head, - Vladislav Yurievich was drafting some schemes at the piece of paper, - No, better two heads! The solid-rocket boosters and here we will organise an operators workspace - Who? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, breaking from his work, - What the operator do you mean? - You know, Bro, - said Vladislav Yurievich, - Having such an equipment we cant act without an operator Only think, what can happen, if it collapses? Taking into account the native elemental base - And who will be this operator? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Its quite clear, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, writing down the multi-storey formulas at the paper, - That will be you. - Me? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. - Well, you will definitely need some job, - said Vladislav Yurievich, - After you stop being a President right? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was looking at Vladislav Yurievich silently. Vladislav Yurievich was solving equations.
Monday, June 6, 2005 22:47:02
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office playing the sea-battle game via the phone with Mikhail Borisovich Khodorkovsky who was sitting at the prisoners dock in the Meschansky Court. - -2, - was telling Vladimir Vladimirovich™ putting a cross on the lined paper with his presidential Parker pen. - Off the mark, - was answering Mikhail Borisovich, - -4. - Hit, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and stroke through one of his ships discontentedly. - Tidy shot, - said Mikhail Borisovich satisfied, - Kasparov taught me that. Suddenly a phone for calling foreign Heads of the States rang at the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Hey, wait a moment, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ to Mikhail Borisovich, - Will tell them Im busy. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Gamardzhoba, Bro! the voice of the President of Georgia, Mikhail Nikolayevich Saakashvili sounded in a receiver.. - Whats up again? screwed up a face Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Why are you always about these bloody bases, Bro!.. - Im not about bases this time! exclaimed hotly Mikhail Nikolayevich, - I am about the garnet! - Which garnet? didnt understand Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The one they threw into Bush and me! screamed Mikhail Nikolayevich, - Our criminal investigators found out that the garnet was combatant! Think of it! - How could this happen - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ hit a table with his presidential fist, - Why didnt it go off, um?! - Fortunately, - was telling Mikhail Nikolayevich, - The garnet hit a small girl! And didnt reach us! Only think?! Lucky we! - Congratulations, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ dryly , hung up the receiver and immediately pressed the button for calling the Federal Safety Service Director, Nickolay Platonovich Patrushev. - Heard it? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ shortly. - Heard it, - answered Nickolay Platonovich the same way. - Find this girl for me, - ordered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Get her from under the ground! - Yes, Sir, - answered Nickolay Platonovich clearly. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off.
Monday, June 6, 2005 22:46:42
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office working with the documents. Suddenly somebody knocked on the high office doors - Come in! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The doors flew open slowly, and the Prime Minister, Mikhail Efimovich Fradkov came in the office cautiously. Mikhail Efimovich got close to the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and put down a piece of paper. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took it up. - Notice, - started reading Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I am requesting to relieve me of the Prime Minister duties because of professional impropriety. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised up his presidential eyebrows in surprise. - Bro? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, looking at Mikhail Efimovich, - Whats up with you? Havent you fallen sick? - I am not ambitious, - answered Mikhail Efimovich and blushed red, - I failed to solve any of the assigned tasks. I have implemented monetization badly. I have raised the social strain in the country. - So what? didnt understand Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - I failed to double GNP! Mikhail Efimovich started speaking fast, and a lean male tear flew down his cheek, - The industrial growth is stagnating! I cant manage the favourable economic situation! I am always having some mischief-making in my Government! Corruption! - Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ calmly, tearing to sheets the notice of Mikhail Efimovich, - You have frightened me. How could that be the reasons for resignation? I thought you have got something serious - But, Vladimir Vladimirovich™! exclaimed Mikhail Efimovich. - All the buts are out, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Go working. When it is time to be resigned they will let you know. Mikhail Efimovich gave a sob, turned back and, with his shoulders down, went to the exit slowly. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked after him and shook his presidential head.
Monday, June 6, 2005 22:45:02
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was staying in the very centre of his Kremlin office. His Presidential Suit was hanging on the chair back, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was holding a brush, a can with ink in it was standing at his feet, and a huge piece of white paper was infolded on the white fluffy carpet, pressed on the corners by the several Presidential Items: the malachite writing set, the ashtray in the form of Boris Berezovskys head, the gun, whereof an patriot-singer Igor Talkov was killed, and the golden cage with a double-headed parrot in it, which was a gift of the Ukraine President, Victor Andreevich Yushenko. - So what, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, looking at the paper, - How do you like this, a lordly bird? The parrot was looking moodily at the work of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. It was written on a paper with the huge rough letters: Kolesnikova, read faster!" - The wont let it in, - billed the left parrots head, - It is needed to be either for Khodorkovsky or against him. - Needed by whom? imitated Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Militia and OMON, - said the right head, - Otherwise they wont let you in. - Wont let me in? said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, - I am the President! - So what? said the right head, - And Kasparov is the Worlds champion. And they dont let him in also. - Hellhounds - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - So what we are gonna do then?... - To correct what you have painted, - advised the left parrots head You should write: Khodorkovsky, go in prison faster. - Or: Khodorkovsky, come out of prison faster! took up the right head, - What will you prefer? - I prefer justice, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - If you wanna justice, - said the right head, - Then you should write - Sh! whispered furiously Vladimir Vladimirovich™, putting his Presidential Finger to his lips, - Lump it!.. or you would talk a lot of trash then And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked around uneasily. - Russia our holy country! the both parrots heads started singing tranquilly, - Russia our bellowed country! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was staring thoughtfully at his Presidential Banner.
Friday, June 3, 2005 12:56:05
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and the President of Kazakhstan Nursultan Abishevich Nazarbaev were walking in Chelyabinsk city. The Governor of the Chelyabinsk region, Petr Ivanovich Sumin, the Plenipotentiary Representative of the President in the Ural federal region, Petr Mikhailovich Latyshev and other bratellos we walking along with them. - Honour to Putin! the passengers by were crying to his face. - Honour to Russia! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was answering. - We have got a lot of cafes here! Petr Ivanovich was telling to the Presidents. - Lets get in, - told Vladimir Vladimirovich™ to Nursultan Abishevich, - Wanna have some beer. The men came in and sat at the table. They ordered a beer. - Good beer, - said Nursultan Abishevich. - Tell me, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ quietly, - Dont you think I am drinking too much beer? Nursultan Abishevich looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise.
Friday, June 3, 2005 12:55:36
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office reading a book in the black leather cover. There was a golden double-headed eagle drawn on it with an words engraved below: The sentence with regard to the case of Mikhail Khodorkovsky and Platon Lebedev 2. - Here a declaration ends - read Vladimir Vladimirovich™ the last sentence and closed the book wistfully. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ put the book on the table and pressed the button for calling his Deputy Chief of Staff, Igor Ivanovich Sechin. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - When is a third part expected? - Tomorrow, - answered Igor Ivanovich. - Why are you torturing me? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - So interesting! Why cant you print out everything at once? - Dont hustle, Bro, - said Igor Ivanovich, - You should learn to spread the pleasure. Again, the more parts the more advertisement. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his Presidential Eyebrows in surprise.
Friday, June 3, 2005 12:55:09
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his Deputy Chief of Staff Vladislav Yurievich Surkov were lying on the roof of the high building at the Leninsky avenue in Moscow. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was looking through his large field glass, and Vladislav Yurievich was driving to the sight of a long-range psychotropic canon. Far below the lines of young people in white t-shirts with red stars on them were moving in the traffic way. - Come on, - whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Too early, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, turning some handles at his canon. The lines were drawing closer. - Come on! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Too early, - said Vladislav Yurievich again and lovingly palmed the platinum canon tube. The lines were drawing closer. The separate faces could be distinguished already. - Come on, shoot! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got flurried. - Now, - whispered Vladislav Yurievich and presses a button. A soft green stream appeared out of the platinum tube, and in a second covered thousands of people walking through the traffic way. - Love your motherland, - Vladislav Yurievich was whispering into a small microphone in a silver grid, - Love your motherland and its veterans Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was looking through his field glass. Young people were kissing at the traffic way. - Looks like it is working, - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, looking through his field glass, - Why were you hanging fire? Why werent you shooting? - Was waiting, - answered Vladislav Yurievich. - Waiting for what? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - When they come closer, - answered Vladislav Yurievich. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ laughed. - And how will we explain all this green scum? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Say, it has been a polar lights in Moscow, - answered Vladislav Yurievich. Below, in the traffic way, girls and boys were kissing in their white t-shirts with the red stars ion them. Polar lights spread over Moscow.
Monday, May 30, 2005 20:49:13
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office watching a record of the Nashi youth movement demonstration at the Leninsky avenue. - Nice cortege - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was murmuring, - Red and white All in lines Very nice Suddenly a phone rang on the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Listen, Bro, - an excited voice of the Minister of Internal Affairs, Rashid Gumarovich Nurgaliev, sounded in the receiver, - Well OMON was trying to arrest Kasparov at the rally near Meschansky Court. - So what? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ interestedly. - The guards didnt let them do it, - said Rashid Gumarovich guiltily. - Which guards? did not understand Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The chess-players guards, - explained Rashid Gumarovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his Presidential Eyebrows in surprise and put down the receiver slowly. - What the hell is going on - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Even a bloody regime goes wrong
Wednesday, May 25, 2005 22:01:14
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his Deputy Chief of Staff Igor Ivanovich Sechin were sitting in the Kremlin office watching on a Presidential TV a live broadcast from the Meschansky Courts convention hall, where a judge Irina Yurievna Kolesnikova was reading a sentence with regard to case of Mikhail Borisovich Khodorkovsky and Platon Leonidovich Lebedev. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Why is she sitting? - Dont you know the omen, - answered Igor Ivanovich, - They will be put into prison - I am so distressed for them! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was bothered, - Imagine, how do I feel! Well, lets start. The both men stood up from a sofa and went to the centre of the office of Vladimir Vladimirovich™, where a large roulette table stood, taken out of one of the Moscow casinos recently. It was parlaid already several platinum chips with the golden double-headed eagles on a verso were lying on he 5-8 field, several on the field number 10. - Well - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took a small platinum box out of his pouch, got out a white one-centimetre blob and raised it over the roulette, - turn it! Igor Ivanovich turned the heavy roulette. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ dropped a blob. The blob started jumping over the figures joyfully.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005 22:00:09
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ came to his Kremlin office. - Well, where is has happened today? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ his secretary, entering his Presidential Office. - Today in Uzbekistan, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - answered his secretary respectfully, giving several documents that lied on a silver tray to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - In Uzbekistan? asked again Vladimir Vladimirovich™, taking the documents and sitting down into his Presidential Armchair, - Well, then prepare a telegram for Karimov, a statement of the Ministry of International Affairs, the Safety Committee session well, everything as usual, you know The secretary nodded, turned back and went out. Vladimirovich™ deepened in reading.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005 21:54:39
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office listening to a voice of the State Duma Chairmans Deputy Vladimir Volfovich Zhirinovsky, which was sounding out of the Presidential loudspeaking communications system. - Bro! was growling Vladimir Volfovich, - We need to sail in! Up to the destroying all the National Security Information bearers! - All? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. - All! answered Vladimir Volfovich. - Including us? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his Presidential Eyebrows. - Surely! Vladimir Volfovich exclaimed, - I am telling you, it is all being made for democracy! For the civil society development! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed and turned off. - Interesting - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ murmured, - Why does it sometimes look like he is right?...
Wednesday, May 25, 2005 21:54:06
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office looking closely at the Presidential Table. The wrinkled Pravda newspaper lied on the table. The engineering grenade RTP-5 lied on it. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was thinking. Suddenly the high doors of the Presidential Office flew open with a wallop and a combat android, the State Duma deputy with LDPR election association , a Safety Committee member, Sergey Nikolayevich Abeltsev, smoking with the burned-out oil and clanking with his old joints, drove into the office. Sergey Nikolayevich was holding a large black Parabellum gun in his rusty power-driven hands. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ jumped to feet out of his Presidential Armchair and adopted the sizenkhontai stance ready to fight. - Whats up, Bro? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ quickly. The android, without saying a word drove to the Presidential Table and put a Parabellum on it. - The Safety Committee assigns you to assume the all needed measures to get businessman-atomist Adamov out of trouble, - gritted Sergey Nikolayevich, - If this operation is impossible, he should be destroyed. - Destroyed?! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said in surprise, - Why should I do this? I am still a President! - You can be a President for a while, - the android answered, - But you remain a chekist for ever. - Isnt it your work? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - A robot cannot inflict harm to a man, - creaked a deputy. Something started hissing in the head of Sergey Nikolayevich, and a blast of white steam flew out of the left ear. The android turned back and drove softly to the exit. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ pressed the button for calling his Deputy of Staff - Vladislav Yurievich Surkov immediately. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - How is it going with Koloboks? - Producing, - answered Vladislav Yurievich busily. - We need to swap one as soon as possible, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Write down: Sergey Abeltsev, LDPR. - Got it, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, - Whats up with him? - Gritting, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Takes off my work. And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off.
Friday, May 20, 2005 15:56:11
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ called the President of Ukraine, Victor Andreevich Yushenko. - Listen, Bro! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Whats up with the seeding? When is Yulia Vladimirovna coming? - Now not very soon, - answered Victor Andreevich, - After the seeding she is going to Chernobyl. - Chernobyl? said Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ in surprise, - What she gonna do there? - Will be constructing a new sarcophagus, - said Victor Andreevich. - Herself? said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. - Herself, - confirmed Victor Andreevich. - Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, - Dont you have any ploughmen or constructors there? Revolutionaries only? - You dont understand, - said Victor Andreevich calmly- Shes got the helm! - - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ bethought, - Thats right! I was told, yeah Its a pity we wont see her this kind of way And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off.
Friday, May 20, 2005 15:55:48
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office tiding up his Presidential Writing Set, made of Ural malachite with golden double-headed eagles on the green sides. Suddenly a phone for calling foreign Heads of the States rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Listen, Bro! the voice of the President of the United States of America, George Bush, touched with emotion sounded in a receiver, - Your Georgians fired a grenade in me! - My Georgians?! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ with surprise, - No, Bro, it is your Georgians who fired a grenade in you! - Why are the mine?! George Bush cried, - They are from the USSR! You have your own Georgia, we have ours! These Georgians are yours! - I dont need them at all, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - You went to them now you take care of them. Enjoy the freedom with them yourself. - Bro! cried out the President of the USA, - But your military base is situated there! Not mine! Calm them down! - Take notice - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - It wasnt me who suggested that. George Bush stopped speaking.
Friday, May 20, 2005 15:54:49
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office tracing a borderline between Russia, Estonia and Latvia on his Presidential Map. - Seems like it was here before - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was murmuring, - Who has invented theses stupid territorial claims I wasnt very good at the University as was drinking too much beer in my spare time, but I still remember some things some of them Suddenly a phone for the calling foreign Heads of the States rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Gamardzhoba, Bro! the voice of the President of Georgia, Mikhail Nikolayevich Saakashvili, sounded in a receiver. - Was that the cowboy who taught you that? smiled Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Dont call him like that! said Mikhail Nikolayevich hotly, - George is a wonderful fellow! He gave me his telephone number! Allowed me to call every time when I want! - Thats right, and you country is just great, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Borzhomi and so on - Yes, Borzhomi! Mikhail Nikolayevich was glowing, - I enjoy it! I am enjoying the freedom, and all the Georgia is enjoying it together with me! - What? said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. - At the same time South Ossetia and Abkhazia are not touched by the freedom which Georgia has been enjoying for some time already! exclaimed Mikhail Nikolayevich, - Free people cant calm down while the tyranny is prospering. - Misha? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked with an anxiety in his voice. - While enjoying our freedom we must help those who have lack of it! could not stop Mikhail Nikolayevich In Zimbabwe, Cuba, Burma and other countries millions of people live under the power of the cruel tyrants! - What Zimbabwe?! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was taken aback,- are you in your right senses?! -The wind of freedom, coming form the Baltic Sea to the Ukraine, now are flowing through the heaths of the Middle Asia and shaking the cedars in Lebanon! Mikhail Nikolayevich was nearly screaming. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off carefully and pressed the button for calling his Deputy Chief of Staff, Vladislav Yurievich Surkov. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Havent you made a distinction without a difference with your canon? - Kinda no - answered Vladislav Yurievich, - What happened? - Seems like Saakashvili is not very seems like he went slightly mad... said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Saakashvili? Vladislav Yurievich said thoughtfully, - Could it be something wrong with the gas in it? Weeping? - Maybe - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ murmured and turned off. - It might be weeping - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, bending his head over his Presidential Map, - But it might be dioxin in satsivi as well
Monday, May 16, 2005 18:49:35
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his Deputy Chief of Staff Vladislav Yurievich Surkov were sitting in a Kremlin Office watching the record of the Military Parade in Honour of the 60th Anniversary of Victory in the Great Patriotic War. The lorries with the veterans were passing through the Red Square, and several dozens of Presidents from all over the World were sitting on a special tribune. - Ive put a cannon at the Mausoleums top, - was telling Vladislav Yurievich, - So that it was covering all the Presidents. And I turned it on during the Parade. - And what were you impressing? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked interested. - That is clear, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, - Democratic approach. - Thats good, - nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Anything else? - Well, - Vladislav Yurievich was a bit confused , - Ah, trifle Have taught Bush the word gamardzhoba . - Funny, yeah - smiled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Look, how it suits to Ivanov to ride on this Brezhnevs limousine Vladimir Vladimirovich™ pointed at the monitor, took out of his Presidential Pouch the special cell phone for government calls with a golden double-headed eagle instead of a keypad and pushed the only button for reaching the Minister of Defence. - Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in a receiver, - Would you like to become a President? - No, sir, - answered the Minister of Defence clearly, - As we have the one already. - Humph - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, putting the special cell phone for government calls back to the pouch, - Right answer - Or for example, Ivanov - added Vladislav Yurievich, - While he was riding we were urged to direct the canon after him all the time. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned to Vladislav Yurievich and looked attentively at him.
Monday, May 16, 2005 18:49:09
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was appearing at the Military Parade in Honour of the 60th Anniversary of Victory in the Great Patriotic War. - Dear citizens of Russia! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was speaking in two large shaggy microphones that were situated at the small tribune in front of him, - Distinguished guests! May 9 was and always will be a sacred day for our country, a celebration that not only inspires and elevates us but also fills our hearts with a most complex mix of feelings joy and sorrow, sympathy and nobility. It is a celebration that inspires us to the most lofty moral acts and gives us the opportunity once again to bow down before those who gave us freedom, the freedom to live, work, feel joy, create, and understand each other. The wife of Vladimir Vladimirovich™ who was sitting behind him pulled down his suit, readjusting it. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gave a slight squirm. - Victory Day is our closest, sincerest and most truly national holiday., - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ continued speaking, - For the peoples of the former Soviet Union it will always be the day celebrating the great feats they achieved together. And for the countries of Europe and the entire planet it marks the day when the world was saved. The President of the United States of America who was sitting aside coughed embarrassedly. - Our fathers and grandfathers were willing to lay down their lives for the honour and freedom of their country. They were united and they defended their Fatherland., - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was speaking, smiling inside, - I bow low today before all veterans of the Great Patriotic War and I wish them a long and happy life. Glory to the victorious soldiers of the Great Patriotic War and the Second World War! To the Victory Day! Glory to Russia! Hurrah! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ exited the tribune and sat beside his wife. - Why didnt you bow? whispered his wife. - Oops... forgot, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and flushed red. The parade began.
Monday, May 16, 2005 17:18:36
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin Office preparing presents for his colleagues who were coming to him for the Victory Day celebrations in Moscow. There was a pack of salty cracknels for the President of the United States of America, a bottle of vodka and a thick Caspian Roach with a caviar inside for the President of Latvia Vaira Vike-Freiberga. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was in a process of deciding on a present for the President of Ukraine Victor Andreevich Yushenko, when suddenly a phone rang on the table. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Listen, Bro, - the voice of Minister of Defence Sergey Borisovich Ivanov sounded in a receiver, - We have received a dispatch The deputy of the European Parliament Ari Vat Vattanen? Vatanen! Ari Vatanen, the deputy, yeah well addressed to the President of Finland Tarja Hal whats the hell his name... Halonen!, so that Halonen would ask you in Moscow to confess that Finland defeated USSR in that war - We confess, - nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - And what do you think - what does ... how was his name?.. Halanen? What does he like? - What do you mean? didnt understand Sergey Borisovich. - Well, what might be a good present for him? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - He is coming, we need to present something, you know - You can give him Karelia as a present, - answered Sergey Borisovich, - He exactly needs it. - What?! said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. It is written in dispatch also, - said the Minister, - That this Ari Vatanen asked Tari Tarja Halonenthese bloody surnames arent they, so that you would return Karelia to him. - To return or not to return? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Are you in your right senses??! exclaimed Sergey Borisovich, - Is Kaliningrad not enough for you? Do you mean we would go to Murmansk with visas only?! We have our submarines there! - Submarines - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ murmured meditatively, - Anyway they sink youd better tell me, Bro, please honestly. Do you personally need Great Russia? - Of course! Sergey Borisovich answered hotly We are a Superpower! We defeated fascism! - Was that you who defeated it? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked feeling tired already, - I am brooding all the time, I dont need this Superpower dont need We should live honestly, Bro. Not forcibly. And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off.
Monday, May 16, 2005 17:18:06
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ was sitting in his Kremlin Office trying to fix up his Presidential Receiver. Suddenly the high doors to the office flew open and a Deputy Chief of Staff Igor Ivanovich Sechin came in. - Listen, Bro, - Igor Ivanovich asked, - Such a good weather! And not a single person in the street! - This is the thin edge of the wedge, - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - The 9th of May is coming - And what are you doing? asked Igor Ivanovich, pointing at the receiver. - I am so bored, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered, - Without any receiver. - Bro - said Igor Ivanovich in a dismal voice, - I thought you would at least consult with me a receiver, you know is a problem which concerns us all - I am a President, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ crisply And this one is my receiver. And I will decide what and when we will make of it. - And what about us? asked Igor Ivanovich perplexedly, - What will happen to us?... Our future depends on what your receiver will be doing! - What he will be doing? - murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich™, twisting a screwdriver inside the receiver Will be working. Just like others. - Well, if like others, - whiffed Igor Ivanovich, - That will do So what is his name? - Name? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ inverted a receiver, - Sokol is written here. - Sokol? asked Igor Ivanovich in amazement, - Is it an secret agents name? He is one of us, isnt he? - Yeah, one of us, - nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Home-produced one. - Well... will you let me go? asked Igor Ivanovich doubtingly. - Go, go, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ nodded once again. Igor Ivanovich turned quietly and slowly went out of the Office
Monday, May 16, 2005 17:17:44
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin Office, tying a Georgian ribbon on a Presidential Standard. Suddenly the phone rang on the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up the receiver. - Listen, Bro, - the voice of the Minister of International Affairs Sergey Victorovich Lavrov sounded there, - Adamov has been arrested in Switzerland. - What is he? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked. - Say - Sergey Victorovich said in a surprise, - the Ex-Minister of Atomic Energetic. - Do tell! - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ didnt believe at first, - Dont remember him at all. - But it was you who fired him! Sergey Victorovich exclaimed, - For corruption! - For corruption?! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got even more surprised, - In our Government?! You must be kidding! - I am not kidding at all, - the Minister of International Affairs mourned, - We have been giving him a consular support already. USA require his extradition. - What did he do? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Stole nine million dollars, - answered Sergey Victorovich. - Only nine?.. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said disappointedly, - No, it cant be anyone of our Government, Somebody is just fooling with it - So what are we going to do? asked Minister. - Well, try to swap him for Zakayev, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Long shot, but still - Well try, - answered the Minister and put the phone down. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gave a shrug of the shoulders perplexedly and came back to his Georgian ribbon.
Friday, May 13, 2005 16:24:05
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was walking along the Aleksandrovsky Garden and decided to visit the newly renovated Manezh building. It was spacious and empty inside. In the very centre of a huge hall there was standing the Mayor of Moscow Yuri Mikhailovich Luzhkov. Yuri Mikhailovich was looking upwards at the naked wooden frames, made up according to the engineer Augusten Bethencourts drawing. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ approached a bit. - Listen, Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, - How do you think, is it ok with renovation? - Here is a result, - Yuri Mikhailovich gave a shrug of the shoulders, - And still no happiness!... - What you were thinking about, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ smiled, - To receive a result and happiness simultaneously? It never happens like that. - I still dont understand how you bear it Yuri Mikhailovich said compassionately, - You constantly do everything for them, and they constantly dont like it. It is easier with me I have laid lots of roads at least - Indeed, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed, - Someone lays roads, someone leads monetization Well, Id better go Need to work And the men said good-bye to each other.
Friday, May 13, 2005 16:23:55
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ called to see the Patriarch of Moscow and all Russia Aleksii the Second. - Christ is risen!, Brooh, sorry, your Holiness! exclaimed Vladimir Vladimirovich™ joyfully, opening out his Presidential Arms. - Truly risen! answered the Patriarch holily. And men kissed each other on the cheek three times. - I have got something for you, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, taking out of his Guards hands the white Presidential Plastic Bag with two golden double-headed eagles at the each side, - Here is an Easter Cake Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took two cakes out of the bag. The Patriarch slightly screwed up his face. - That is what Ludmila and daughters have cooked themselves! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said with dignity , - In honour of Grandpa! - I cant bear them anymore - the Patriarch muttered, - those Easter Cakes - But this is your work, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in a detached way, taking the coloured boiled eggs out of the bag, - And here are the coloured eggs The Patriarch sighed and took a working countenance. - By the way, Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, - I sort of thought... Wine is the Christs blood. And bread seems to be his flesh, is that correct? - Correct, - the Patriarch nodded. - Then these coloured eggs are - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ began but stumbled. The Patriarch raised his eyebrows in a surprise
Tuesday, May 3, 2005 23:05:08
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ dropped in the Church of the Holy. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ stayed for a bit at the Unction Stone and meditated there for a while. Then Vladimir Vladimirovich™ ascended Golgotha, bent the knee, and stayed for about three minutes at the chancel near the gouge where long time ago was the Cross where Jesus was crucified. Having kneeled for a while near the famous gouge, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ lightened a thick candle. It was time to go along. Priests started beckoning he should go down by the step ladder to the Churchs exit. But Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was tarrying. He looked like trying to resolve something for himself, not sure about something and going to do something. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ stepped to the exit, then abruptly turned back and came again to that place where a Cross stood years before. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ crept under the chancel, which was over the gouge, and bent the knee again. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ lost a knot of his Presidential Tie, unhooked his shirt and took out his personal cross. - Grandpa - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ whispered, putting his cross to the gouge. Air around closed down, heavenly light appeared over the head of Vladimir Vladimirovich™, and hair of Kommersant newspaper special correspondent Andrey Ivanovich Kolesnikov stranded on end. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took on his cross, fastened his tie, stood up and came out of the chancel.
Friday, April 29, 2005 13:51:12
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ was walking about Jerusalem accompanied with his staff. Palestinians were crowding in the Temple Mount mosques. Jews were crying at the Wailing Wall. Suddenly a special cell phone for government calls with a golden double-headed eagle instead of a keypad rang in the pouch of Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took it out and pressed the only button. - Shalom, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ replied. - Listen, Bro, - a strange male voice sounded in a receiver, - Have you been in the Army, eh? - No indeed, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ with a suggestion of a Jewish accent, - and who is speaking? - Here is Kolya Korotkykh, - answered a voice, - Colonel, Moscow military commissariat. - Well, I am a Colonel myself, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - But I havent been in the Army - Ive been to KGB instead. So whats up, men? - Dear Bro! Colonel was speaking ardently, - Ive got an idea why not to forbid people that havent been in the Army to occupy public leading positions, eh? - What do you mean? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said in surprise. - Suggest a youngster imagines himself a Prefect in future, - Colonel explained, - And he understands that he just wont become a Prefect without Army. Then he will definitely serve in the Army! - Thats a good idea! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ agreed. - Then suggest Colonel continued, - that a youngster imagines himself a President in future!.. - What do you mean? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ cut him short, - But I am a President! - Well, thats only in the future! Colonel answered. - Listen, you, Colonel, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered dryly, - Lets not tell fortunes. Goodness knows what can happen there in the future And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off
Thursday, April 28, 2005 17:46:09
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office, studying some Jewish words before his visit to Israel. - Dont understand a word - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was murmuring, looking at the Hebrew language textbook, - Stupid squiggle Suddenly high doors to the office of Vladimir Vladimirovich ™ flew open and a Deputy Chief of Staff, Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, hurried up to him in a white robe dabbled with engine oil and galipot. Vladislav Yurievich come to the table of Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and, smiling triumphantly, put a small shaggy sphere on a wide table-top with care. - What is this stuff? -asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. Suddenly a sphere reeled and with a soft buzzing noise rolled to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ started back in his Presidential Chair. - I have finally got through with it, - said Vladislav Yurievich with a smile, - New generation of Androids, instead of Bear obsolete model. A code name is shaggy Kolobok. - So small? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise. - Yeah, - Vladislav Yurievich nodded jolly and started to count by fingers: - First, we save on suits. Second, - on premises. Four hundred and fifty of standard Koloboks will just fit any box from a copy machine so we wont need any halls for plenary meetings. But the main point is number three! - What is number three? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ as he was intrigued. - Koloboks do not need BMW! answered Vladislav Yurievich, and both men laughed gladly. - Heh - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed, taking breath, - You are just a genius. Vladislav Yurievich smiled embarrassedly. - Butjust one question- Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was a bit confused, - How will people vote for these creatures? - We will use party lists, - answered Vladislav Yurievich. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked at Vladislav Yurievich with respect. - And how will we name this one? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, pointing at Kolobok. - I would suggest, - said Vladislav Yurievich, - Andrey Konstantinovich Isaev. - What is he? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - A Chairman of Labour and Social Policy Committee, - answered Vladislav Yurievich, - as he became completely shabby, almost falling to pieces. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ nodded in approval. Kolobok was twirling at the side, flashing cheerfully with red and green lights.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005 23:05:36
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin Office, talking to the Chief of Staff via the Presidential receiver. - Listen, Bro, - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - What do they say about my Annual Address to the Federal Assembly? - As usual, - answered the Chief of Staff, - They say, if a President proclaims amnesty of capitals - that only means that he wants to strip oligarchs money. They say, if a President is talking about informative objectiveness on TV - that means that he wants to chock off the freedom of press all the way. They say, if a President promises to scale up public employees wages - that means that he will take away everything. - Heh - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed, - Now tell me, why it is always like that? - Well, it seems to be quite clear, - answered the Chief of Staff, - People trend to speak about what they want in fact. You tell them what you want. They tell you they want. - So what can I do? asked Vladimir™. - Express their wishes, - advised Chief of Staff, - You are a President. And you should not think about yourself. So please forget amnesty, objectiveness and scaling up public employees wages. People do not need it. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed again and turned off a Presidential receiver.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005 23:05:08
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting in his Kremlin office, reading comments for his Annual Address to the Federal Assembly. Suddenly his phone rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up immediately. - Listen, Bro, - a good-minded voice of a former Prime Minister Mikhail Mikhailovich Kasyanov sounded in a receiver, - I have been recently told by the doctors that corruption is an occupational disease. - What? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said in surprise, - And where do I come in? - Well, - answered Mikhail Mikhailovich, - The point is that a special pension should be issued for the evoked disease. And I do not have such pension. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his Presidential eyebrows.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005 11:14:51
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was presenting his Annual Address to the Federal Assembly. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was staying at the small tribune with a pile of texts before him and couple of microphones on the both sides of a tribune. The Federal Assembly Chairman, android Sergey Mironov, was sitting to the left, and the State Duma Chairman, android Boris Gryzlov, was on the right. - I repeat: we cannot be satisfied with the current situation in the country, - Vladimir Vladimirovich said™, - freeing major mass media from the oligarchs censorship, we failed to protect them from the unhealthy zeal of certain officials. Focusing the efforts of law enforcement bodies on the fight against crime, including tax evasion, we encountered frequent violations of the rights of our businessmen, and sometimes a blatant racket on the part of state officials.. Many bureaucrats believe this situation will never be changed, and such violations are the inevitable result of past and current polices. I must disappoint them. Our plans do not include handing over the country to the inefficient rule of a corrupted bureaucracy. All Federal Assembly members sitting in a hall started to smile, node and clap their power-driven hands with decisive approval. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ continued his presentation.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005 11:14:25
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was walking along the Kremlin corridors, refreshing the body thesis of the Annual Address to the Federal Assembly. Suddenly out of the corner there appeared a sound of clunking & groaning, then, a smell of spent fuel and, finally on a small track slowly arrived Chairman of the state Duma, android Boris Gryzlov. - Listen, bro! rejoiced at seeing him Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - So glad to meet you here! Tell me, what the wired wings have grown in your Party? How are you feeling between them ? - We, Bears, do not need this stuff, - Chairman answered in mechanical voice, - We have both feet on the floor instead. And a Chairman drove away slowly. - Bears? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ murmured in surprise, looking after an android as it was leaving.
Monday, April 25, 2005 11:19:27
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was walking along the Kremlin winding roads. He was followed by Federal Guards with blue flashers on their service caps who were stepping soundlessly and respectfully behind him. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was trying to imagine how to make life in Russia even better, shivering every time when the thoughts of USA State Secretary Condoleezza Rice came into his Presidential Head. Suddenly something moved in the frozen rosebushes. Vladimir Vladimirovich™, being a professional intelligence man, only slightly moved his Presidential Eyes and noticed what had slipped his Federal Guards attention there was a man in a camouflage suit, lying on a plastic cab carpet. He was holding an automatic Bison pistol-carbine; Just next to him on a muggy ground there was a Zhigulee accumulator battery. - Who are you? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ shortly asked - Nobody, - answered a mysterious stranger, moved back and disappeared in a Kremlin Rose Bush Vladimir Vladimirovich™ perplexedly looked over his shoulder at the Guards, then, cautiously stepped into the Bush across the spring mud in his handmade Italian shoes and looked at the carpet. A business card was lying on it. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ leaned forward, took the card and drew it to his Presidential Eyes. - National patriotic group "Tropa", - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ read on, - reconsideration of Privatisation results, restoration of social justice, political terror. E-mail: tropka@gmail.com... Umph - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - the Guards Chief voice sounded from aside, - Are you all right? - Yeah, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered quickly, hiding the card into the pouch of his Presidential Coat, - Everything is all right, everythings fine. Somebody has just left an accumulator battery here Does anybody need it by chance? - Accumulator battery! Guards started to clamour, -Certainly, we need it! Accumulator batteries do not usually lie around! - Looks like they do - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ mattered, moving back to the road. Guards started to dismantle the accumulator battery. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was slowly walking away, palming a card in a coats pouch. - Will send an e-mail to them - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was thinking, - Definitely need to consult
Thursday, March 24, 2005 18:53:56
Once Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office dreaming about how one day the snow would melt, Vladimir Vladimirovich with his family and Labrador Konie would go for outdoors and, walking on the last-years grass, make plans for the future after 2008. Suddenly, Vladimir Vladimirovichs phone rang. It was the direct line to heads of foreign states. Vladimir Vladimirovich picked up the receiver. "Hi, Bro," an anxious voice said, "This is Akayev calling." "Ah," Vladimir Vladimirovich was excited. "How do you do, Akakiy Akakievich." "My name is Askar Akaevich," Askar Akaevich sounded insulted. "Oh, yeah, yeah," Vladimir Vladimirovich said excusingly. "I am sorry, Bro. Hows the weather in Kirghizia? Has the snow melted yet?" "What snow?!" Askar Akaevich was surprised. "Were having a revolution here." "Cmon," Vladimir Vladimirovich said in disbelief. "What kind are you having?" "This one will be tulip," answered Askar Akaevich. "This revolutions code word will be tulip," mumbled Vladimir Vladimirovich making a note in his presidential calendar. "Bro!" Askar Akaevich was trying to break through the static and other noise. "What should I do?" "Come and visit," Vladimir Vladimirovich responded. "Well discuss this." "So I will do," Askar Akaevich was shouting, but he could hardly be heard against the background noise. Vladimir Vladimirovich put the phone down and looked out the window. "And ours," he said day-dreamingly, "will be probably snow..."
Tuesday, March 22, 2005 15:36:12
Once Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin got a phone call from Boris Abramovich Berezovsky. "Listen, Bro," said Boris Abramovich, "I am very upset about elimination of Maskhadov." "Tell me about it," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "I am myself... hmm... upset. He is a human being after all. And why are you upset?" "The key figure in the struggle for peace in Chechnya has been eliminated," Boris Abramovich said. "This aint no good." "Who exactly is the key figure in the struggle for peace?" Vladimir Vladimirovich did not get it. "What does it make ME?!" "YOU," said Boris Abramovich sternly, "are a blood-thirsty dictator who destroyed a small and proud freedom-loving nation." "Drop it," Vladimir Vladimirovich mumbled, "I am fed up with all your peoples stupid jokes." Boris Abramovich giggled happily on the other end.
Friday, February 11, 2005 00:18:18
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and studying the golden needle stuck into the green velvet pad. "Snap and that's it," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich, looking at the sun reflections on the needle's edge. "Snap and that's it." Vladimir Vladimirovich smiled, picked up the phone, and dialed the London number for Boris Abramovich Berezovsky. "Listen Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich lightheartedly, "do you still think that Maskhadov and Basaev are invincible?" "Since nothing has been done about them in ten years, then nothing's gonna happen to them now," replied Boris Abramovich quickly. "While the Russians were reveling in their patriotic fever, the Chechens got themselves a nuclear bomb." "What?" didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. "What bomb?!" "A portable nuclear bomb," replied Boris Abramovich. "It's still missing some kind of element, but it's just a minor detail. I wrote to Patrushev all about it last fall." "No way," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Who told you about it?" "Reliable sources," replied Boris Abramovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich quickly disconnected, and immediately dialed Nikolai Platonovich Patrishev, the Federal Security Agency Director. "Listen Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, agitated, "Berezovsky just tried to BS me about Chechen's nuclear bomb." "Sure, he wrote to me about it earlier," replied Nikolai Platonovich. "So, is it true?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich in low voice. "True," replied Nikolai Platonovich, we checked. "Berezovsky told me it's still missing some kind of element," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, losing all hope. "What do we do, Brotha?! What do we do?!" "Basically, nothing," replied Nikolai Platonovich. "It does matter which element is missing." "So, which is it," asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, breaking in cold sweat. "Plutonium," replied Nikolai Platonovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich exhaled, hung up the phone, and wiped out his forehead with the sleeve of his presidential jacket. "Well, thank you, Nikolai Plutonievich... shoot... Platonovich," murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich, putting the pad and the needle back into the platinum egg with golden double-headed eagles on its paunchy sides.
Tuesday, February 8, 2005 22:37:32
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and worrying. Suddenly, there was a ring of a portable government communication device, the one with a double-headed eagle for a keypad. Vladimir Vladimirovich immediately pressed its only button and lifted it to his presidential ear. "Listen, Brotha," said the voice of Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration, "they are not overturning it." "Well, that's nice," exhaled Vladimir Vladimirovich and stopped worrying. "How did they ever come up with this idea? Overturning the Duma election results... So many lawmakers would end up on the street. What happens now?" "Now they are appealing to the Strasburg Court," replied Vladislav Yurievich. "We'll see." "Will the court overturn?" Vladimir Vladimirovich started worrying again. "It would look really funny," said Vladislav Yurievich, "if the Strasburg Court overturns the results of Russian elections." "I still don't get it," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "How come elections in Iraq are democratic, but in Russia they are undemocratic? How come elections in Palestine are democratic, but in Chechnya they are undemocratic? Or, why the first round of elections in Ukraine is democratic, the second is undemocratic, and the third is democratic again? How does it work?" "Well, it's obvious," explained Vladislav Yurievich. "Why you dont want to have the Duma elections overturned?" "Why waste money on new elections," quickly replied Vladimir Vladimirovich. "The same for them," said Vladislav Yurievich. Who, them? Asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Well... Them," diplomatically stated Vladislav Yurievich. "Here's how it works: those who invest, get themselves a democracy." "Hm," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich, after some thinking. "Sounds fair." "I think so too," agreed Vladislav Yurievich. The men went silent.
Monday, February 7, 2005 16:52:36
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and watching TV. There, Yulia Vladimirovna Timoshenko was giving a speech from the podium of the Ukraine's parliament. "The only light in the world," said Yulia Vladimirovna, "is now Ukraine!" Vladimir Vladimirovich smirked and switched the channel. The President of the United States George Bush appeared on the screen. "I applaud free and democratic elections," said George Bush, "that took place in Ukraine, Iraq, and Palestine." Surprised, Vladimir Vladimirovich raised his brows and switched the channel again. The Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice appeared on the screen. "Among the new free nations, said Condoleezza Rice, "I can name Afghanistan, Palestinian Territories, and Ukraine." "They're mocking us," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich and turned off the TV. Suddenly, the tall office doors opened, and Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration, briskly entered the room, carrying in his hands a large wooden box. "What's this?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "Just a sec," replied Vladislav Yurievich, placing the box on the desk. Vladimir Vladimirovich considered the box with some interest. Vladislav Yurievich opened the box and took out two beautiful platinum eggs with gold double-headed eagles on their paunchy sides. "Wow," sad Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Is it Faberge?" "The State Mint," replied Vladislav Yurievich. 'The important stuff is inside.' Vladislav Yurievich opened the left egg. Inside the egg was a black velvet pad with a large rusty Roma needle stuck into it. "What's this?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich again. "Dracula's death," said Vladislav Yurievich. "Top Secret." "Kidding me," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "You mean that was not a fantasy?" "The real thing. No time for fantasies," said Vladislav Yurievich opening the second egg. Inside the egg was a green velvet pad, this time with a large gold needle stuck into it. "What's this," inquired Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Basaev's death," replied Vladislav Yurievich. "Gosh...," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, stunned. "How does work?" "Turn on the TV," said Vladislav Yurievich. And now watch, said Vladimslav Yurievich, taking the needle from the egg and slightly bending it with his fingers. Immediately, a nice lady appeared on the screen and said exciteldy, "The leadership of the Chechen republic does not exclude the possibility that the infamous warlord Shamil Basav was killed back in mid-January." Vladislav Yurievich released the needle. "However," said the lady instantly, "this is not the first time that his death is being reported." "Cool!" exhaled Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Let me try it!" "Listen, Brotha," said Vladislav Yurievich, "here's the truth - you can only break the needle once." "So what?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. "So, Shamil will die," replied Vladislav Yurievich. "But we want him to die," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Don't we?" "We do, said Vladislav Yurievich. "Nevertheless, I would like you to weigh the consequences very carefully." "Ok," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "I'll weigh them." "I leave it all to you," said Vladislav Yurievich and turned to go. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, his words trailing. "What?" asked Vladislav Yurievich. "I didn't know," said Vladimir Vladimirovich nodding toward the left egg, "that Dracula is too... one of those..." And Vladimir Vladimirovich nodded toward the right egg. "You better lock Dracula up in the closet right away," advised Vladislav Yurievich, "it's been our strategic resource for hundreds of years now." "I understand," whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich respectfuly. Vladislav Yurievich left the room.
Monday, January 31, 2005 22:10:05
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and looking thoughtfully in the window. A snowstorm raged outside. All Kremlin walkways were completely covered with snow, with a large snowdrift sitting by the Tzar-canon. "I wonder," thought Vladimir Vladimirovich, "why certain peoples love their presidents so much? Why do the Turkmen people love their Turkmen-Bashi? Why do the North Korean people love their president?" Vladimir Vladimirovich sighed and took a sip of his presidential tea. "Now, let's take the Ukrainian people," continued with the thought Vladimir Vladimirovich, they totally admire their president. They just keep standing on the main square, and keep staring at him, keep staring. And the Georgian people... All, but worship their president." Vladimir Vladimirovich carefully placed on the windowsill his paunchy teacup, which was made of Kuznetzov porcelain, and had two gold double-headed eagles on its sides. "And nobody loves me...," said Vladimir Vladimirovich with sadness. "Everybody just wants from me new benefits, cheap vodka, and draft deferment." Vladimir Vladimirovich lifted his eyes toward grey Moscow skies and raised his arms. "Why is it so, my Lord?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. Suddenly, the grey skies parted and in the break between the clouds Vladimir Vladimirovich saw a beam of heavenly light. "It is so," thundered over the Kremlin God's voice, "because you have been chosen!" Then the clouds closed and the light went out. Shaken, Vladimir Vladimirovich stared into the sky. "Well, definitely..." flashed across his presidential mind.
Monday, January 31, 2005 22:09:25
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin received a phone call from Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladislav Yurievich, "You know, I've got an idea. Let's nominate you for a Nobel Prize." "What for?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "For Peace," replied Vladislav Yurievich, "because Yuschenko and Saakashvilli were already nominated, and you can't be worse then them." "Nominated whom?" didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Who nominated?" "Those cowboys," replied Vladislav Yurievich, "Clinton's wife and some another senator." "They say the nomination would instill hope and inspiration in those seeking freedom in other countries that lack it." "Where are those countries," asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, "where they lack it?" "I have no idea," replied Vladislav Yurievich, probably there are such countries somewhere. So, let's nominate." "I think it wouldn't be modest," said Vladimir Vladimirovich thoughtfully, "let's nominate Yanukovich instead." "Yanukovich?" repeated Vladislav Yurievich, "well, that's an idea. And if they don't give the Prize to him, we'll declare it a massive vote fraud." "We'll set up a tent city in Stockholm," joined in Vladimir Vladimirovich. "And we'll demand resignation of the Swedish King!" said Vladislav Yurievich, delighted. "Prepare a draft resolution!!" exclaimed Vladimir Vladimirovich, snapping his presidential fingers. "Working on it already!!" replied Vladislav Yurievich. Vladimir Vladimirovich hung up the phone. "Brainstorming! What a useful skill!" murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich with a happy smile.
Thursday, January 27, 2005 20:29:01
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and reading a PACE resolution "The circumstances surrounding the arrest and prosecution of leading Yukos executives." "According to the report by Mrs. Leutheusser-Schwartze... Schtarre... Schnarre... man, what a name... Schnarrenberger," read Vladimir Vladimirovich, "PACE requests the executive authorities of the Russian Federation to guarantee the full independence of the judicial proceedings against leading Yukos executives from any attempt to influence them and to take measures to stop any such attempt." Vladimir Vladimirovich sighed, put the paper aside, picked up the phone, and dialed Vladimir Vasilievich Ustinov, Prosecutor General. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "you know, don't press Mikey that hard. Just don't, ok?" "Ok, I won't," promised Vladimir Vasilievich. "What happened?" "Well, they asked me to," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich, "to stop it." Vladimir Vladimirovich hung up, picked up the resolution from the table, tore it in two, and threw the pieces into a paunchy platinum paper bin with gold double-headed eagles on the sides. Then he pulled closer his daily planner, found the "Pace resolution take actions" line, put a checkmark next to it, and, satisfied, leaned back into his chair. So, what do we have next? murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich, and picked up another paper.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005 22:39:28
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his office and studying name listings of people that organized recent mass protests in Russian cities, published by the Version newspaper. "Excellent...," murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich. "So helpful of them... we just kept guessing who those organizers were." Suddenly the tall office doors opened and Viktor Andreevich Yuschenko, President of Ukraine, swiftly entered the room. "We need to have a talk, short and straightforward," said Viktor Andreevich. "Hey, Viktor Andreevich," said Vladimir Vladimirovich cheerfully. "How's Yulia Vladimirovna doing?" "I just appointed her an Interim Prime Minister," replied Viktor Andreevich. "Good," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "we've been looking for her everywhere." Viktor Andreevich gave Vladimir Vladimirovich a surprised look. Vladimir Vladimirovich replied with a friendly smile.
Monday, January 24, 2005 21:39:06
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and watching on TV the US president at his inauguration party dancing with a female soldier. "If you pledge," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich, "don't Bush... Oops. Don't hedge." Vladimir Vladimirovich reached for a button to call Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Everybody is being inaugurated. Bush. Yuschenko. You know, I want it too..." "But you just had one recently, "said Vladislav Yurievich, surprised. "For us, presidents," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "each month goes like a year. So I hadn't had an inauguration for a long time now. Any way we can make it happen? You can do it." "Very difficult," admitted Vladislav Yurievich. "Maybe special presidential elections... Theoretically possible. But for that you would have to resign. Or we could stage an impeachment. But then we would have to be sure that you are re-elected." "What? You think I wouldn't be?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. "How can I put it...," pussyfooted Vladislav Yurievich. "If the elections were held today, you probably wouldn't." "Why," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, shocked. "Many people wouldn't be able to get to their polling stations," replied Vladislav Yurievich, "no more free bus rides." "I thought so...," whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich. "I felt that we didn't do it right. That something wrong might happen here. We have to solve this problem, Brotha. And solve it immediately. Now, re-set your androids, re-program Sliska, and then let them do something about it. Electorate must be able to get to the polling stations for free. This is the law!" "Will do," said Vladislav Yurievich and disconnected. "Who would've thought," Vladimir Vladimirovich shook his head. "You never know where they get you. Oh, just how difficult it is to rule this country..."
Friday, January 21, 2005 14:42:05
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin called Viktor Andreevich Yushchenko, President of Ukraine. "Hm...," started Vladimir Vladimirovich with some difficulty, "Brotha. You know, congratulations and all that. Welcome to the club, as some say." "Thank you," Volodimir Vladimirovich!", replied Viktor Andreevich, then continued in his native Ukrainian, "Ukraine and Russia are brothers forever. Or sisters? Should I visit you now?" "Visit me...," grumbled Vladimir Vladimirovich, "Now you pretty much have to visit... will bring this bug with you..." "Excuse me," tensed Viktor Andreevich, "What are you talking about?" "About what...", continued his grumbling Vladimir Vladimirovich, "You know about what. About your orange pox, your spiked oranges, and our benefits... Listen, maybe you just stay home." "I could stay," took offense Viktor Andreevich. "There's whole Europe at our other side." "Shove off to your Europe," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich, getting really angry. "What a pain in the neck!" "I am not a pain in the back," Viktor Andreevich got angry, too. "I am a democratically elected president of an independent state." "What kind of president are you," Vladimir Vladimirovich half rose in his presidential chair, "if you don't even have a Martian in your head?!" "What Martian?", asked Viktor Andreevich, surprised. "Ah, nothing...," collected himself Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Just mentioned it. Ok, you can come. What am I to do." "Volodimir Vladimirovich," Viktor Andreevich lowered his voice. "What Martian?" "Doesn't matter," cut off Vladimir Vladimirovich. "That's it. See you on the twenty fourth." Vladimir Vladimirovich slammed the receiver and fell back into the chair. "Have to keep my cool," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Hold my tongue... Hold my tongue." "He'll get a Martian," suddenly, Vladimir Vladimirovich heard in his head the bubbling voice of his personal presidential Martian. "My brother took off from Mars already. It is his turn now." "I don't get it," thought Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Does this mean that from now on we are going to be, like, brothers?" "Correct understanding," bubbled the Martian, "What else is there to do? Otherwise you strangle each other. Slavic brothers..." Vladimir Vladimirovich clutched his head. "Impossible," he whispered. "Impossible!"
Thursday, January 20, 2005 14:56:47
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was talking to the members of his cabinet. "Brothas," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "how could you have done all this acconting when nothing adds up? Huh?" "We've been counting," started Mikhail Yurievich Zurabov, Secretary of Health and Social Services, "it seems to balance..." "It's always like this," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, agitated, "seems to balance, then babushkas start blocking the streets." "The figures themselves are right!", exclaimed Aleksei Leonidovich Kudrin, Secretary of the Treasury. "Those are good figures!" "Everything's done so sloppily," sighed Vladimir Vladimirovich. "The usual, as Chernomyrdin whould say. Just short of crap. We are all short-of-crappers." "Who?", asked to repeat surprised Mikhail Efimovich Fradkov, Prime Minister. "Short-of-crappers," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Re-do the accounting." The cabinet members lowered their eyes in shame.
Thursday, January 20, 2005 14:55:07
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his office puzzling over an invitation to a Russia-2 exhibition sent to him by Marat Aleksandrovich Guelman. Vladimir Vladimirovich fiddled with the invitation for a while then pressed a button to call Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "What is this Marat's invitation all about? What is this Russia-2 business?" "Well, it's like normal Russia," answered Vladimir Yurievich, "but it's cool." "Cool," asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised, "how come it's cool?" "Well," it's like there's Vnukovo," explained Vladimir Yurievich, "and there's Vnukovo-2, from where we fly. Or, there's Sheremetyevo, and there's Sheremetyevo-2, which is kind of better." "I get it," nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich. "And who is the president of Russia-2? This Marat guy?" "As far as I know," replied Vladislav Yurievich, "they don't have a president." "What do you mean, don't have a president?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "What are they, crazy?" "We'll sort it out," quickly said Vladislav Yurievich. "Yeah, sort it out for me, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich forcefully and disconnected. "Total disrespect," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich, "Russia, and no president..."
Tuesday, January 18, 2005 14:13:41
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office in silence. "What can I say," thought Vladimir Vladimirovich, "when I have no idea what to say." Vladimir Vladirovich pressed a button to call android Boris Gryzlov, the Chairman of the state Duma. "Listen Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "What kind of stuff did you pass there?" "You don't get it," replied the Chairman. "The law itself is good." "How is it good," asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, "if people are pitching orange tents because of it?". "The law is good," replied the android. "Everybody will be better off." "Look," sighed Vladimir Vladimirovich, "consider I am a senior citizen." "So," said Boris Gryzlov. "Stop that boorishness of yours!" Vladimir Vladimirovich raised his voice. "Consider I am a senior citizen and I ride the bus for free." "S..Let's consider," agreed the Chairman. "But now I cannot ride the bus for free," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "and the subsidy they gave me is barely enough for a few trips a month. Am I better or worse off?" "Better off," said the Chairman with conviction. "How come?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "You don't understand," said the android. "The law is good, but it has to be explained better." "Ok, explained it to me," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "How come I am better off now?" "Now you've got choice," said the Chairman. "What choice?" didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. "To ride or not to ride," replied the android. "So I didn't have this choice before?", asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "No," said the Chairman with confidence. "Before, you had to ride." "Why?!" said Vladimir Vladimirovich, astonished. "Because when it's free," explained Boris Gryzlov, "a Russian doesn't have any choice. He has to ride." "Well, this concept is a bit muddy," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "It's not that clear." "And I say so, have to explain better," agreed the android. "The law is good." "Shoot," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, disgusted, then disconnected. "It's surreal." Vladimir Vladimirovich leaned back in his chair and sank back into silence.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005 14:12:12
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was reading his presidential mail. He had some open letters from senior citizens, oil workers, and regional newspapers. He even had a letter addressed to Aleksandr Grigorievich Lukashenko, the President of Belorus, but delivered to Vladimir Vladimirovich by mistake. "We can't believe such unfairness," read Vladimir Vladimirovich one letter. "We can't imagine that the ruin of the "Volgotanker" boat company is in the interests of the state....What boat company?" Vladimir Vladimirovich pulled out of his pocket a portable government communications device with a two-headed eagle for a keypad and pressed its only button to call Sergei Vladilenovich Kirienko, the President's official representative in the Volga federal district. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "What's up with the boats? Why ruin them?" "So they don't ship the YUKOS oil," replied Sergei Vladilenovich. "Do you know where they ship it to?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Whatever," replied Sergei Vladilenovich, "doesn't matter where." "They ship it to the Kremlin, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "our androids run on it." "But why by boat," didn't undrstand Sergei Vladilenovich. "We have to ship it by boat," explained Vladimir Vladimirovich, "and by the Volga river only. Because that way the oil is charged with spirituality. The androids don't function properly without spirituality." "Really?" said Sergei Vladilenovich, "me... I didn't know..." "You know nothing!" cried Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Leave the boats alone. I've got nobody left to work for me!" Vladimir Vladimirovich disconnected. Sergei Vladilenovich hung up, shaking his head. "Who would've guessed," he thought. "Spirituality..." Vladimir Vladimirovich leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He imagined a large shiny oil tanker painted in the Russian flag colors. "Spirituality" was written on her bow and a big golden two-headed eagle sat on her stern.
Monday, January 17, 2005 22:52:42
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was wandering the long Kremlin halls and thinking how to make the lives of the ordinary people even better. The bright sun shone though tall windows of Kremlin Building One, and Vladimir Vladimirovich was in a very good mood. He wanted to sing. "I said hello, dolly, This is Luis, dolly," Vladimir Vladimirovich hummed the first line that came to his mind, "It's so nice to have you back where you belong." Suddenly, he heard familiar clanging, and an android Boris Gryzlov, The Chairman of The State Duma and The Chairman of The United Russia party, riding its compact caterpillar tracks, appeared from around the Kremlin hall's corner. "Brotha!" Vladimir Vladimirovich shouted happily, "Look at this beautiful weather! I want to sing! You know, we should make it so that there's music everywhere it would be so great! Do you have music in your Duma? I bet you don't! But you could definitely play it, let's say, in the cafeteria. Huh?" "Our apparatus will consider your motion," the android spoke with its metallic voice. "What apparatus?", didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. "This one," replied the Chairman, jabbing his chest with a telescopic finger, then slowly drove off. "G, those boors!" muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Talking about themselves in third person. What if I started talking like that: The President this, The President that." Then Vladimir Vladimirovich looked at a bright sunspot sitting on the red carpet in front of him, smiled and continued his merry walk. "You're lookin' swell, dolly....", hummed Vladimir Vladimirovich . "I can tell, dolly..."
Friday, January 14, 2005 13:38:41
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his office and looking at satellite images of tsunami affected areas in South Asia. "Where did they see the name of Allah?", murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich, puzzled. "I read completely different words... can't even imagine how they got there..." There was a knock on the tall Presidential doors. "Come in," cried Vladimir Vladimirovich. The doors opened and Prime Minister Mikhail Efimovich Fradkov sidled into the office. "Brotha," said anxious Mikhail Efimovich from the doorway, "I need money." "Why?", asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "You ran out budget?" "I wanted to go to the Duma," stumbled Mikhail Efimovich, "but my driver threw me out the limo. He said, Pay or else. I showed him my Prime Minister ID, threatened him with The President, even begged him to show some respect for my age... Nothing... He said, Pay now or walk." Vladimir Vladimirovich shook his head, opened a desk drawer, put his hand in, dug out a few coins, and spilled them on the desk in front of Mikhail Efimovich. "Here you go," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Will this be enough?", asked Mikhail Efimovich with some doubt, gathering the coins. "Maybe you've got some larger bills." "Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich and sighed, "you should know, we monetized the benefits, not banknotized them." Mikhail Efimovich started nodding and backed to the door. Tears rolled down his plump cheeks.
Friday, January 14, 2005 13:36:52
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was going to his Kremlin office. His stretched limousine was flying fast over the icy pavement; security escort jeeps were darting around, flashing their blue lights. Senior citizens were standing on the road. "Break!", Vladimir Vladimirovich yelled at his driver over a bulletproof separation glass. "Break now!!! You'll run over a babushka!!!" The driver hit the breaks and the heavy car stopped, lurching forward. Vladimir Vladimirovich opened the door and stepped onto the road. "Brothas," said Vladimir Vladimirovich loudly, "What's going on?! I need to get to work!" "We do too!", shouted senior citizens, "but we can't afford the fare!" "How come - can't afford?", said Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "We provide you with money." "You go on that money," said one babushka, threatening Vladimir Vladimirovich with her cane, while two other babushkas climbed into Vladimir Vladimirovich's limo. "Hey, hey," protested Vladimir Vladimirovich. "I am calling security. Security!" The head of Secret Service ran towards Vladimir Vladimirovich. "At your service, Vladimir Vladimirovich!", said the Secret Service head, saluting smartly. "Clear the way!", ordered Vladimir Vladimirovich. "No problem," replied the Secret Service head, "but you have to pre-pay." "Pre-pay for what?", said Vladimir Vladimirovich, taken aback. "For our services," replied the Secret Service head. "All benefits were cancelled, so now we work only for cash." "Me too, by the way," the limo driver shouted through the window. "I don't get it," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Call Gryzlov," said one of the babushkas from inside the limo, "he'll explain." The babushka slammed the door and the limo drove off. Senior citizens stepped aside, letting it pass. Vladimir Vladimirovich gaped after his car.
Thursday, January 13, 2005 15:53:54
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin received a phone call from Mikhail Borisovich Khodorkovsky. "Listen Brotha," said Mikhail Borisovich, "well, I gave away my YUKOS stake. I am not an oligarch anymore." "Congratulations!", said Vladimir Vladimirovich, delighted. "You are not in danger now." "And still," said Mikhail Borisovich, "can you explain to me what it was all about." "About what?", asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Well, the destruction of YUKOS," clarified Mikhail Borisovich. "It was a good company after all." "You too don't understand," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "Illarionov doesn't understand. Gref doesn't understand. Nobody understands. You see, let's say there are different computers, like Macs or PCs." "Ok," said Mikhail Borisovich. "Some are expensive, but perform poorly," continued Vladimir Vladimirovich, "others are cheap, but perform well." "Like the Chinese," ventured Mikhail Borisovich. "Yes, like the Chinese," agreed Vladimir Vladimirovich, "so, YUKOS was a very expensive company." "So what?", said Mikhail Borisovich, surprised. "Well then," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "I thought that if we make it cheaper it will perform better." "Hmm...," said Mikhail Borisovich, "You've got something here... It's like the "Cash for benefits" program." "Bingo!", exclaimed Vladimir Vladimirovich, "you got it!" "Yeah, I get it," muttered Mikhail Borisovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich smiled.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005 13:55:08
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin received a phone call from Ramzan Akhamtovich Kadyrov, The First Deputy Chairman of the Chechen Republic. Lyisten, Brah-thah, said Ramzan Ahmatovich gravely, We've gut a prumlem. Why is that? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. Need another Hero star? Nah, answered Ramzan Ahmatovich. Mah syistah, Zyulah, hand brokn. What sister Zulay? didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. Mah syistah, Zyulah, replied Ramzan Ahmatovich. You've got a sister? Vladimir Vladimirovich asked keenly. Beautiful? Lahk a pyeach, replied Razman Ahmatovich. So, Ah'm sendin' mah people. Sending where? didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. Dahgahstan, replied Razman Ahmatovih. They brouk hah hand. Why Dagestan? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich. Dah-gah-stan, replied Razman Ahmatovich. Ah'm sendin' mah people. Just do it quietly, said Vladimir Vladimirovich, not like five years ago. No trustin meah, said Razman Ahmatovich, hurt. Ah'm not some Shamil, yo know. I know, I know, said Vladimir Vladimirovich and hung up the phone. The boy matures, thought Vladimir Vladimirovich and smiled.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005 21:39:43
One morning, January 9, 1905 Grand Duke Vladimir Aleksandrovich was looking down from his window on Petersburg workers that were gathering on the Palace Square. It is about to begin..., Vladimir Aleksandrovich uttered sadly, as he also saw gendarmes shifting from foot to foot and Cossacks prancing on their horses. I can't believe how brainless those workers are. A loud bang came from a distance. Open fire... said Vladimir Aleksandrovich, crossing himself.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005 21:38:13
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich called Vladislav Yur'evich Surkov, Deputy Chief of Staff, Administration. Listen, Brotha, said Vladimir Vladimirovich, What was happening around the country yesterday?" The hundredth anniversary of the Bloody Sunday, replied Vladislav Yur'evich. Let's mark it, said Vladimir Vladimirovich. And remind me what it was all about. Well, workers gathered for an unauthorized meeting, reminded Vladislav Yur'evich. So the tsar shot them with machine guns. How cruel, winced Vladimir Vladimirovich. That's not the way we do it here. Well, what's up today? Senior citizens are blocking the Leningrad freeway, said Vladislav Yur'evich. They protest the cash for benefits program. Again unauthorized, I suppose, said Vladimir Vladimirovich. Naturally, nodded Vladislav Yur'evich. Vladimir Vladimirovich gathered his thoughts, looking into the presidential window. The snow was melting and the wind roamed outside. There's flood in Petersburg..., said Vladimir Vladimirovich melancholically. Has nothing to do with me... Strange feeling... Where were you born, Brotha? Who? Me?, asked Vladislav Yur'evich. In Solncevo. Solncevo?, said Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. Do you know this Little-Jap Mafioso guy? Nope, replied Vladislav Yur'evich, it's another Solncevo. In the Lipetsk region. Lipetsk region..., Vladimir Vladimirovich said thoughtfully. The men went silent for a while. Vladimir Vladimirovich! Vladislav Yur'evich interrupted finally. What? Where?, stirred Vladimir Vladimirovich. Ah, it's you, Brotha. No no, that is not the way... Anything else? And Vladislav Yur'evich continued with his report.
Monday, January 10, 2005 15:23:17
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin called the president of Poland, Aleksander Kwasniewski. "Listen Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "What's up with Auschwitz, is it working?" "Excuse me," asked Aleksander Kwasniewski, confused, "what do you mean?" "Well, won't you be embarrassed to invite people over?", explained Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Pretty soon they gonna come in droves." "No, it's fine," replied the president of Poland, "I just went there, checked everything out. It's ok to come." "Very good," said Vladimir Vladimirovich with satisfaction, "it's good that you mind your own house." And Vladimir Vladimirovich hung up the phone.
Saturday, January 8, 2005 11:29:29
One Christmas day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and talking to God. "Listen, Brotha," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, lifting his eyes to heaven, "everybody says I am bad. They say I curtail freedoms, I rot Khodorkovsky in jail, I destroy YUKOS. They say I am an authoritarian. That I am worse than Pinochet. Some call me Saddam Hussein, and even Mussolini, and Hitler. They say I killed Ushenkov and blew up houses in Moscow. They say that under my rule Russia got worse off and there's no hope for improvement. They say I meddle in internal affairs of neighboring countries and ignore public opinion. They say I gassed the hostages and killed the children of Beslan. They say I am constantly lying and trying to reverse the results of privatization. And that I wrecked NTV. And that I fired Parfenov. And that I poisoned Yuschenko." Vladimir Vladimirovich folded his hands in prayer, sighed, and continued. "They say I dragged Russia into the pit of dependency on crude. They write that under my rule the corruption grew worse, that police is not working, that people are afraid to walk the streets. They say that before me Russia didn't have any terrorism. And that I cannot even double the GDP. And that I encroach on the Constitution. And that my vertical power structure will not hold. And that I took away senior citizens' benefits. And that I limit the freedom of press, and intimidate dissidents, and even abuse the judicial system to my own political advantage." Vladimir Vladimirovich clenched his fists, shook them in the air, and raised his presidential voice. "They write that I cynically staged the YUKOS auction, and intruded on private property rights! That Russian submarines sink, TV towers burn, and water parks crumble! They say I created this war in Chechnya, that I killed Zelimhan, and about to name a street in Moscow after Ahmad! They say that Russia is on the brink of Fascism, and at the same time that I jail National-Socialists! That Peterbug checkists are now everywhere, and that the bureaucracy has grown as never before!!" Vladimir Vladimirovich pounded the desk with his fists. "They say I didn't even declare mourning for the tsunami victims!!! What kind of monster do they make of me?!! Tell, answer me, Brotha: What does it have to do with me, when everything is God's will?! Huh?!?!"
Friday, January 7, 2005 14:44:54
One night Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was returning home from work. His heavy armored limo was rocking gently on its wide winter tires. Security escort jeeps were flashing their lights, saluting police lining up both sides of the street. "Listen, brotha," Vladimir Vladimirovich tapped on the armored glass separating him from the driver, "stop by by that flower shop." The driver nodded in silence and pressed the breaks. The limo glided to the side and stopped. Vladimir Vladimriovich opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk covered with snow. "Good evening," - said Vladimir Vladimirovich to a sitting in the shop babushka, who was wrapped in a grey down shawl. I would like those roses, please. The white ones, with dewdrops. Maybe seven of them. No, what the... make it eleven." Should I wrap it for you?" asked the sleepy babushka, exhaling a tiny cloud." No, thank you," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich. The babushka arranged the flowers. How much is it?" - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich pulling out his presidential wallet. The white ones usually go for ninety each," pronounced the babushka mysteriously, and her arthritic fingers began punching numbers on a large Chinese-made calculator. So, nine hundred ninety rubles is your total." Here's a thousand," said Vladimir Vladimirovich giving her the money. No need for tips," said the babushka, giving Vladimir Vladimirovich his flowers and a worn out partially ripped ten-ruble bill. Vladimir Vladimrovich thanked her, took the flowers, the money, then looked around, and walked briskly to a small white building under a neon Grocery" sign, decorated with plastic Christmas ornaments. The store was warm and crowded. Vladimir Vladimriovich slipped on a tiled floor, which was covered with melting snow. He flapped the flowers to keep his balance, then stepped toward the counter, behind which a cute sales girl was slicing cheese for two policemen, armed with AK-47s. Are you the crowd control?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich the policemen. "Please tell them..." What crowd control?" said one of the policemen, surprised. We are from unit 45. And what about you?" Me?", Vladimir Vladimirovich was taken aback slightly, I am... from... the Kremlin." Secret Service," - whispered the other policeman respectfully, nudging his partner with an elbow. Yeah... Secret Service... big deal..." said the first policeman and winked to the smiling girl. Just getting some cheese... that's all". The policemen took their cheese, paid and left, nudging each other and throwing glances back at Vladimir Vladimirovich. Good evening," said Vladimir Vladimirovich to the sales girl, who began smiling to him already. I need some good candy... I don't know much about them+which ones do you like?" I don't eat them," replied the girl. Watching my weight. Well, Rafaello's are good. They usually go as coconut candy." Go? Where?" didn't understand Vladimir Vladimirovich. For sale," explained the girl, Would you like some?" Yes," said Vladimir Vladimirovich quickly. Do you have French champagne?" We've got Italian," replied the girl. Martini Asti. It usually goes as champagne." Goes. Again," said Vladimir Vladimirovich perplexed. Do you have Soviet" sparkling wine?" We do," said the girl. It usually goes as demi-sec." Good," agreed Vladimir Vladimirovich, and gave her the money. The girl put everything into a bag, threw in the receipt, and without ever breaking her smile gave the bag to Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Ah, you look just like Putin," she exclaimed and smiled even wider. Vladimir Vladimirovich blushed. "It's me..." he murmured. "My wife... her birthday is today... thank you." And Vladimir Vladimirovich left the store.
Wednesday, January 5, 2005 21:11:51
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich was sitting in his Kremlin office, talking to his wife on the phone, telling her about holiday greetings cards he received from foreign leaders. "Bush sends his thanks for the Ukraine," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, fiddling with the American's card. "He says he couldn't imagine a better present himself." "Honey, please take it easy," Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife tried to sooth him. "Big deal, Ukraine. One Ukraine more, one Ukraine less. We've got Belarus. And Tadzhikistan." "And Turkmenistan," added Vladimr Vladimirovich. "Well, Koizumi writes he wants the Kuril Islands for Christmas. But I just gave another island to the Chinese." "Honey, this is not your last year as the president," said Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife. "You've got time." "I think so ...", murmured Vladimir Vladimirovich picking up another card. "Here's one from Shroeder." "What about him?", asked Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife. "Well, he's completely happy, as usual," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Anything from Ukraine?", Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife asked gently. "No, nothing from Ukraine yet," Vladimir Vladimirovich replied sadly. "Don't worry about it," said Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife. "I still love you, and that's what's important." "I love you too," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. The husband and wife went silent for a while.
Wednesday, January 5, 2005 15:25:43
One night Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was standing next to Kremlin building fourteen with the Spas Tower in the background. The Tower's ruby star shone with calm steady light. Light snow was falling on Vladimir Vladimirovich's presidential coat. Vladimir Vladimirovich held out a fogged up flute of Chrystal" champagne. Brothas," said Vladimir Vladimirovich looking intently into the directed at him camera. It is New Year's again. I missed ... How should I say it?+ I've missed you this year. You know, I did miss you, my compatriots. Thanks for voting for me, of course. I was really pleased. And sorry for those Hassids." "Vladimir Vladimirovich!" a frantic whisper cut in from the side, Shahids, not Hassids!" "Ah, yes, yes," reacted Vladimir Vladimirovich, and took a nervous sip of his champagne. "I mixed everything up+ Sorry for the Shahids. I did't anticipate that. Will pay more attention next time. Now, with regard to the rest of the year, I would say it turned out good. New laws, new appointments, new purchases. You know, this Baltic Finance...., shoot, Baikal Finance Group - that was great! Remember, how we came up with the vodka bar for an office idea! I thought that was excellent. Now, with regard to the cash for pension benefits program, I was against it. I don't like cash. I've got nowhere to put it. But the government said we had to do it. And I had to agree. You know, it's the government, not just somebody from the street. We all have to be patient. I am not having an easy time either. As they say, and rightfully so, - land to the peasants, factories to the workers, ... what else .... sea to the seamen, sky to the pilots ... And what's left for presidents?! Turns out nothing but votes. Even those are taken away sometimes..." Vladimir Vladimirovich took another sip. "Well, everything will be better next year," he said into the camera after some thinking. "Most importantly, we'll never be hit by a tsunami." With this words Vladimir Vladimirovich finished off his champagne.
Tuesday, January 4, 2005 20:23:18
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office, having a conversation with his economic adviser Andrei Nikolaevich Illarionov. "And then I say", recounted Andrei Nikolaevhich, "that the YUKOS auction is sort of the swindle of the year and all, and that nobody's got money for it anyway." Vladimir Vladimirovich laughed. "Well, what do you mean, got no money?", he said. "Just the other day I gave Sechin ten thousand rubles for this Baltic Finanance, shoot, Baikal Finance, + what's its name?" "Wow, you do all this shopping," said Andrei Nikolaevich, surprised, "while your advisers haven't gotten their quarterly bonus yet; there's no money even for champagne." "You'll get it, don't worry," said Vladimir Vladimirovich, "for that kind of performance... hope you didn't call me a 'footless, yellow earthworm'.1" "Footless, yellow earthworm," repeated Andrei Nikolaevich keenly. "Great idea. I will save it for next year." Andrei Nikolaevich pulled out a notebook from his pocket and wrote down this last phrase, which he enjoyed.
Tuesday, January 4, 2005 20:19:34
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office, bored. The year was almost over, and he had nothing to do. Vladimir Vladimirovich played Putin-Chess for a while; moved stuff around his presidential desk; shuffled papers from a blue file into a red one; then opened a desk drawer. Sitting there were: a silver spoon with Moscow Governor-General Sergei Aleksandrovich Romanov's monogram, a draft of terrorist Ivan Platonovich Kalyaev's last letter, a few rounds for the gun that killed Igor Talkov, a bunch of paper clips, Leonid Ilich Brezhnev's old eraser, and a "Hero Of The Soviet Union" star. "Huh!", said Vladimir Vladimirovich, taking the Hero star. "If I replace this red ribbon for a colored one I get a 'Hero of Russia' star." Vladimir Vladimirovich pressed the star to the breast of his presidential jacket, then sighed. "Pity I can't award it to myself...", he murmured. "Nobody will get it. I could award it in secret, but then, what's the point, if I can't show it off? It is sitting in my desk anyway." Vladimir Vladimirovich pushed a button to call his wife on the intercom. "Honey," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "I've got a Hero of Russia star. Whom do you think I should award it to?" "Give it to Kadyrov, Jr.," replied Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife immediately. "I feel so sorry for him+ An orphan+ There's nobody to even wash his only running outfit." "To Kadyrov, Jr.?", - said Vladimir Vladimirovich, surprised. "Hm... and how do you picture it - his fez and the Hero of Russia star?" "So what?", - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich's wife. "His dad wore the same kind of fez. And you gave him a star anyway." "True", - agreed Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Ah, well, let him have it. Maybe he'll sell it to buy himself a washing machine." Vladimir Vladimirovich disconnected and started picking the red ribbon out of the Star.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004 22:22:31
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin sat in his Kremlin office contemplating his New Years address to the citizens of His Presidential Russia. Suddenly the tall office doors opened and the Deputy Chief of Vladimir Vladimirovichs Staff, Igor Ivanovich Sechin, entered the room. "Listen brotha," said Igor Ivanovich, "Do you have any money?" "Money?" asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, "Why do you need money?" "Have to pay," said Igor Ivanovich, "for this Baltic Finance..., shoot, Baikal Finance." "And how much do you need?", inquired Vladimir Vladimirovich. "Well, ten grand should be enough, I think." said Igor Ivanovich. "They even dont have an office, why would we pay more..." Vladir Vladimirovich opened his presidential desk drawer, pulled out a bundle of thousand-ruble bills, counted out ten of them, and pushed them toward Igor Ivanovich. "Here, take it," said Vladimir Vladimirovich. "I owe you," said Igor Ivanovich, grabbing the money. "You sure do," nodded Vladimir Vladimirovich, putting the rest of the bills back into the desk and shifting his attention to the unfinished address. Igor Ivanovich left the office.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004 10:29:51
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin and his Chief of Staff were sitting in the presidential office and watching the videotape of Israeli helicopters assault on HAMAS leader Sheikh Ahmed Yassin for the umpteens time. Right there, check it out, this is where it gets cool! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ exclaimed, pointing his finger at the missile as it got deployed from the helicopter. The missile drew a wide tail of smock, made a gracious pirouette and darted towards a large black limousine. Nice shot, the Chef of Staff muttered respectfully. Aaaaaaaaand now! Vladimir Vladimirovich™s pupils widened with excitement. The missile hit the target and the limousine disappeared in a large ball of fire. Bang, bang, the Chief of Staff muttered, the Big Bang Looks spectacular! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ marveled, Would not it be cool to do something like that, huh? Both mens eyes were fixed at the sight of blood-covered wheel chair, laying near a big shell crater. Why the hell not, the Chief of Staff said, Lets do it. We got the copters. We got the missiles. I am sure we can pick some kind of leader Yeah, well, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, Youve heard what they said. He opened the gates of hell, and we shall not rest till we have his head. We sure dont need this. No, the Chief of Staff agreed, We dont need this. Exactly, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, things should be done elegantly, but without jeopardizing the safety of our countrys leaders. Enough, lets get to work. We have plenty of things to sign today The Chief of Staff nodded and quickly walked out from Vladimir Vladimirovich™ s office.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004 17:50:38
One early morning Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was walking around the Alexanders garden. He was re-elected for his second presidential term the day before. Four years of hard work, compensated by an obscurely small amount of money, laid ahead. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ clenched his teeth. He was breaking thin ice on empty puddles of water with his hand-made Italian shoes. The morning air smelled of smoke. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his eyes and noticed that the ground around him is covered by scattered pieces of burned wood and rusted pieces of roofing tin. No shit, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ muttered looking around. His two body guards were following him in lock step as silent shadows. Slightly ahead there stood a full figured man with a cap looking at the Manezh Exhibition Hall building. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked at the Manezh building finding with surprise that it was missing the roof. Listen, Bro, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ yelled to the full figured man with a cap. The man turned around and Vladimir Vladimirovich™ recognized the mayor of Moscow, Yuri Luzhkov. Whats up with the Manezh? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked. It burned down! Yuri Luzhkov responded happily with a smile on his face. No shit, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said again, Now what? Its gonna be cool now! Yuri responded happily, Ive got an estimate all lined up for the new concrete roof. Same as in the Aqua Park? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked? Sort of, Yuri Luzhkov responded, It will be better then before, with an underground parking and all of that. Who was in charge of putting out the fire? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked looking at the pieces of the roof shingles with interest. Mr. Shoigu, Yuri Luzhkov answered, Him personally. Oh, I see, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed, I see you guysve had your fun. I got re-elected, by the way. So Ive heard, Yuri Luzhkov said with sympathy, I did too Vladimir Vladimirovich™ noded his head and slowly kept walking down the path. Yuri Luzhkov followed him with his eyes. Good bye, Manezh, good bye Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was humming quietly to himself. The body guards silently followed, slipping by Yuri Luzhkov.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004 17:50:00
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™s former Chief of Staff called his present Chief of Staff. Listen, Bro, the former Chief of Staff said cheerfully, What happened? Why was Kasyanov fired? I dont know, the Chief of Staff muttered barely aloud. You sound awful, the former Chief of Staff said, Whats up, were you fired as well? I dont know, the Chief of Staff whispered. Well, if they still let you into the office, you are not fired yet, the former Chief of Staff reasoned. Where is the Boss? He left for Khabarovsk, the Chief of Staff whispered again, then to Krasnoiarsk And after that? the former Chief of Staff inquired. I dont know the Chief of Staff muttered with a sob: He left the fruits on the table, hung up his jacket and just left pretent
Thursday, February 26, 2004 11:41:11
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ ordered to send for Mikhail Mikhailovich™ Kasianov. Listen , Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said to Mikhail Mikhailovich™,- What do you think youre doing? The moment I am out of this joint, out there inspecting the forces -- you here stabbing me in the back? How do you mean? Mikhail Mikhailovich™ was not following, How am I stabbing you? What are you talking about, Bro? Have you seen this? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ vigorously spinned the monitor of the presidential computer towards Mikhail Mikhailovich™. Whats this? Mikhail Mikhailovich™ was confused. Vladimir Vladimirovich, T.M. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ responded, - Dot Ru. Dot Ru? Mikhail Mikhailovich™ was still confused, And? And nothing! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sounded threatening, The article for February the 19th. Shall I read it to you? Sure Mikhail Mikhailovich™ was completely lost. Once upon a time Mikhail Mikhailovich™ was on Larry King Live, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ read, Check it out, hes got a ™ attached. Youve got to earn this ™ first, -- Vladimir Vladimirovich™ thought. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gave Mikhail Mikhailovich™ a gloomy look. Mr. President, what happened to your submarine Archangelsk?, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ read slowly,- It sunk, Mikhail Mikhailovich™ replied. What do you say now? About what? Mikhail Mikhailovich™ completely lost the train of thought, What is this? Thats what Id like to know, what is this? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered grimly, Care to explain, Mikhail Mikhailovich™?! Listen, Bro Mikhail Mikhailovich™ said in a suddenly weak voice, Why are you getting all formal on me? I though we were buddies, working together and all Were working together, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said quietly, You can go now, Mikhail Mikhailovich™. Mikhail Mikhailovich™s face paled, he turned around and stumbled out of the office. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ pressed the call button for his Chief of Staff. Listen, Bro, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, Get me Hristenko right away. The phone line went dead.
Thursday, February 26, 2004 11:40:21
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin once called his Chief of Staff. - Listen, Bro- said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I just got a call from the Central Bank. They said theyve accumulated too many Russian rubles. And weve got to somehow spread them out. And Ive been thinking, maybe we can send them over to Belarus? - We could possibly do that, - said the Chief of Staff, - but what if they wont take them? - If they dont take them, - said VV, - well turn off the gas. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ hung up.
Thursday, February 26, 2004 11:39:14
Once Mikhail Mikhailovich™ Kasyanov was on Larry King Live. - Mr. President, what happened to your submarine Arhkangelsk"? asked Larry King. - It sank, - answered Mikhail Mikhailovich™.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004 11:25:13
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin and his Chief of Staff were once sitting in his Kremlin office and watching a live news report from the collapsed water park Transvaal". - What a nightmare, - was saying Vladimir Vladimirovich™, visibly shaken, - how awful! And it used to be such a nice water park - Heres by the way the list of buildings, constructed by this company, - said the Chief of Staff. - Anything interesting? inquired Vladimir Vladimirovich™ - This will crack you up, - said the Chief of Staff, - It has our building too. - Say what? this was surprising news to Vladimir Vladimirovich™ - Here, look, - said the Chief of Staff, extending the list over to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The Kremlin residency of the president of the Russian Federation, - read Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and raised his eyes up to the ceiling, - And what are we supposed to do now? - Cut and run, - quietly said the Chief of Staff, - to a safe haven. - For instance? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, without moving his eyes off the office ceiling. - Siberia, - answered the Chief of Staff with confidence, - well build a hut there. Dig the underground shelter first and then set the frame no terrorists, no techno catastrophes, no earthquakes and the snowstorms wont be in the way - And what about the country? - Perplexedly asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, closely inspecting the ceiling ornaments, - what about the Russian people? And the elections? - Elections and people are one thing, - said the Chief of Staff, - but if the ceiling caves in on your head, the people will be worse off and nobody will any longer need the elections. Well move quietly, and no one will even notice. Appoint some android for the time being. - Let me sleep on it, - quietly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, slowly getting up from his chair, - for now, lets vacate the premises - Should I call Shoigu? The Chief of Staff readily pulled out of his pocket the administrations mobile communications device. - Wont make it on time, - assuredly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, slowly shifting towards the tall office doors. - Yeah, you are right, - whispered the Chief of Staff, following Vladimir Vladimirovich™s example. Something cracked in the ceiling. The officials bolted and scooted out and away from the office.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004 11:21:04
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was watching the debates of the presidential candidates on TV. - Clowns!, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ muttered, - Absolute clowns Who even invented this term - debates all they do is find a way to spend the government money, do anything but give to the Army Vladimir Vladimirovich™ pressed the call button for his Chief of Staff. - Listen Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, - We should really ban all this god damn TV debates, all this propaganda, et cetera - What do you mean?... the chief of staff was taken aback. - A waste of money is all it is, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was winding himself up, - Look at all the airtime! All they do is babble, and babble and As if people have nothing better to do in the morning, then to watch this garbage - Well, there is this constitutional law on elections - the Chief of Staff began in respond. - Change the law then! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said with a strict tone, - What do I keep you around for? Everyone already knows whos going to be the President, so whats the point of beating the dead horse? All they do there is sit and talk, show off And whos going to have to do the job ? Me! And for 7 years, no less. - What are you getting all wind up for, - the Chief of Staff said with a concerned smile, - Do you want us to make you a personal TV channel? Same old thing, but no elections? - This would be called avoiding a problem, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ said, - I am a career officer, its not my habit to avoid problems. Im used to solving problems! - Alright, alright, - the Chief of Staff answered soothingly, - Do you want us to re-run your yesterdays broadcast again? - A re-run? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ though, - Why the hell not. In any case, better then watching these Vladimir Vladimirovich™ hung up the phone. Few seconds later the TV screen lit up to show a handsome headshot of Vladimir Vladimirovich™.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004 11:52:28
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office in total silence. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was trying to understand what is he doing wrong. Why is it that despite his best efforts people in Moscow kept getting killed, even in larger numbers then there were without his best efforts. It hurt and offended Vladimir Vladimirovich™ all at once. Android Boris Gryzlov and his colleague Petrushev both reported that everything was under control and then something would blow up again. Every time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ would burst out and try to fire them to all hell, something would stop him: If not them, then who? Once Vladimir Vladimirovich™ found in his presidential pantry an old well-worn briefcase with the old party papers, put on some fluffy fake mustache from his retired spys set and went out onto the Manezhnaia Square. He approached the first traffic cup that came across and offered him 100 rubles to ignore Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in mustache with a briefcase entering an underground shopping center. The cop gave him a tenacious look and asked for three hundred. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gave him three hundred and hat was the end of that. Once Vladimir Vladimirovich™ planted a hand grenade in the middle of a Kremlin corridor, right on the red carpet. Passing by android Boris Gryzlov simply pushed the grenade aside with his iron foot and calmly kept on going. Once Vladimir Vladimirovich™ bought a truckload of sugar at the local wholesale market and drove it through Moscow wearing a green head band and shouting Allah is Great through the window. That cost him 800 rubles: two asked for a houndred each, one asked for three hundred, and another one forced him to buy his Whitney Huston concert ticket, previously received at the local police station as a bonus. Better then anyone, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ now understood that he can no longer protect his people. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was scared. He would wake up each morning and turn the TV on, trembling at the sound of the news broadcasts intro. He would get up in the middle of the night to log onto the Internet, only to make sure that nothing bad has happened. When Vladimir Vladimirovich™ realized that he is developing some sort of a phobia, he decided to find a distraction and jailed a couple of rich people. It did not work. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ then decided to distract himself with the presidential elections. That did not work either. Every day he was getting more and more scared. In his nightmares hed see an accusing face of Irena Hakamada, a sad smile of Ivan Rybkin and 39 bloodied boys. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ realized that sooner or later his handset of the government mobile communication will ring and a nervous voice of his Chief of Staff will utter: Listen Bro, it happened again. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ met Patriarch Aleksey and asked for detailed information regarding life in recluse. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ talked to his personal Mercian about the living conditions on his native planet. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ even secretly called Dalai Lama to consult about living in exile. Nevertheless, last Friday the handset of the government mobile communication rang in the pocket of his presidential suit, and a nervous voice of his Chief of Staff uttered: Listen Bro, it happened again.
Wednesday, February 4, 2004 10:12:55
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and reading the latest news update. Suddenly, a buzzer of the direct communication line with foreign heads of state rang, which prompted Vladimir Vladimirovich™ to pick up the phone. Listen Bro, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ heard a gloating voice of the US President George W. Bush, our Mars rovers got through all of your little defenses, didnt they? And both are filled to the brim with the white paint. So what? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ responded maintaining self-control, How much of that paint have you got anyway? George Was Here is all youve got enough to write. We, on the other hand, managed to paint the whole Mars red, right from the orbit. And may I express our great capitalist Thank You for that! George W. said cheerfully. All we have left to do now is write Coca Cola on the surface and the whole space program is paid for! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took a deep breath, hung up the phone and promptly pressed the call button for his Chief of Staff. Listen, Bro, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ told his Chief of Staff, fetch me those smart asses who came with the idea of swapping Stoli for Pepsi in the late seventies. Come again? the Chief of Staff was surprised Never mind, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ answered, Do what I said! Let us learn some political foresight Vladimir Vladimirovich™s mood has been entirely ruined.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004 15:55:10
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once explaining the Presidents job to children. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - addressed him a small girl, - could you please tell us, do we have to praise our President all day long and always agree with him on everything? - Well, - began saying Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - actually, and why Suddenly Vladimir Vladimirovich™ noticed a short bald man, standing behind the circle of kids and marking something down in his notebook. - No, you dont, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The bald man wrote something down. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - a little boy, wearing big glasses, raised his hand, - and who is the President? - What do you mean, whos the President? replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in surprise, - Me of course Vladimir Vladimirovich™ again noticed that the bald man was about to write something down. - President, - corrected himself Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - he is the head of state. The bald man made another entry and scrutinized Vladimir Vladimirovich™. It was disturbing to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - stood up a beautiful girl with big white ribbons in her hair, - And who pays the salary to the President? - Your parents, - impatiently answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, nervously glancing at the bald man. The bald man continued to write in his notebook. - And what is the difference between the President and the Santa Claus? yelled out someone from the gallery. - The President works all year round, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and shoved his hand into his suit pocket for the Presidential cell phone. The bald man kept on writing. - Can a twelve year old girl become a president? asked a little high pitched voice. - Well, how can it- began Vladimir Vladimirovich™, and the bald man was poised to write something down again. - Yes, - yelled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - yes, she can. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ quickly pulled the presidential cellular means of communication with a gold double-headed eagle instead of the keyboard out of his pocket and pressed the only key connecting him to the Chief of Staff. - Hey, Bro, - hurriedly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I am here talking to some children and theres some guy, standing in the corner and writing everything down after me. Who is that? Hes making me nervous - Is he bald? asked the Chief of Staff, - short? - Yeah, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ - Oh, thats the childrens writer, - explained the Chief of Staff, - his name is Oster. We have decided to make a website, president to the children and all that. - Good idea, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I am already so tuckered out doing these classes. Why dont they read for themselves - Yep, - agreed the Chief of Staff, - we thought so too. Instead of wasting time on these kiddies questions, we could go on fishing trips more. So hes gonna write down all your answers and prepare the contents for our website. - Okay, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Understand, alrighty, bye. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ hung up, removed his presidential cellular means of communication, smiled at the kids and said: - All right, so whats up... I mean whats the next question, ladies and gentlemen - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - asked a nasty looking boy, probably and an A-straight student, - can we do without the President? - Yes you can, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ winked at the bald man, - if you let each other pass on the road. The bald man kept writing. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was ready to answer other questions.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004 15:52:36
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once sitting in his office and writing something in his presidential notebook. - Three hundred forty three deputies, - counted Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - twenty nine committees nice Suddenly there was a knock on the door. - Come in, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The tall doors cracked open and in stepped a man, who didnt look familiar to Vladimir Vladimirovich™ at all. - Who are you? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ with surprise. - Pilugin, - replied the man, - also Vladimir, just like you, Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The chair of the constitutional legislature committee. - Oh, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - thanks for coming by. You are exactly who I need. Well be changing the constitutional legislature. Any suggestions? - Yes, sir, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - answered Pilugin, - there are some suggestions and very good ones too. - For instance? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - For instance, - hurriedly started to explain the Committee Chair, - for instance, we can add this article Pilugin fished a creased piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it and read excitedly: - The party United Russia is the leading and the directing force of the Russian society, the core of its political system, its government and public organizations. The party United Russia is for the people and serves the people. Armed with the teaching on the support of the current president, the party United Russia sets the general direction of the society development, outlines the home and foreign policy of the Russian Federation, supervises the great constructive activity of the Russian people, gives a systematic character and a scientific base for their struggle to support the current president in his victory. All parties function within the framework of the Constitution of the Russian Federation. Pilugin finished reading and inquiringly looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Sounds good to me, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - and where are we gonna put it? - I think we could replace the article number six, - answered Pilugin. - And what do we have there now? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, opening his desk drawer in an attempt to find a copy of the Constitution. - About the citizenship, - replied Pilugin, - about rights and freedoms, stupid stuff like that - Well, then we can get rid of that one, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, pushing the drawer closed and winking at the Chair, - No one understands whats written there anyways. Where are you from, by the way? - I graduated from the Leningrad State University, - said Pilugin, - with a degree in confession and forced compliance with the court decisions. - Thats a good university, - approved Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - a good degree too. It will come in handy. Pilugin blinked happily. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ affectionately smiled.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004 15:50:10
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin came by the office of his Chief of Staff. The Chief of Staff and his Deputy, Vladislav Yurievich Surkov, were standing around a large table in the center of the room. On the table there was a hockey set up. The Chief of Staff and his Deputy were engrossed into the game, spinning the ivory handles and passing around the field a heavy gold puck. - What I really cant do is to play hockey, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, approaching the players. The Chief of Staff and his Deputy looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich™ with surprise. - And I cant skate either- in a guilty voice admitted Vladimir Vladimirovich™. His Chief of Staff and his Deputy nodded in understanding and turned back to the game. - Heres what I thought, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The officials were listening to his without taking their eyes off the game. - I thought of what we should do with Misha, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, fiddling with a diamond tiepin. The Chief of Staff and his Deputy immediately stopped the game and looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich™ with interest. - Lets send him to Mars, - offered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - and have him pay for it with his own money. Vladislav Yurievich at once started thinking. - Why not, sounds like a good arrangement, - said the Deputy of the Chief of Staff, and half a minute later, - this will take care of Michael Borisovich for the next three years, save the face of the Office of Public Prosecutor and help us reach Mars sooner than the cowboys and save money too! I like it. - Will he make it? doubted the Chief of Staff. - Well, the cowboys robot made it, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - But that was a robot, - doubted again the Chief of Staff, - ours is still alive. - Thats okay, - said Vladislav Yurievich, - if Gagarin could, so can Khodorkovsky. - The first man on Mars, - dreamily said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - just before the end of my second term nice The men looked at each other and grinned.
Friday, January 16, 2004 13:53:32
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ once called his Chief of Staff. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - it turns out Bush wanted Saddam out as soon as became President! And we thought. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - carefully responded the Chief of Staff, - and you, having become the President didn't immediately want to restore the constitutional order in the Chechen Republic? - Dammit! - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got upset and hung up the receiver, - I can't even say anything! It was getting lighter outside the window. A new presidential week was beginning.
Friday, January 16, 2004 13:51:57
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was walking around in the Alexander Garden. There was not a soul in the garden this early in the morning, except two FSB agents, unconvincingly pretending to be two Kremlin cadets, as they were keeping watch at the post number one- the Tomb of an Unknown Soldier. - Your name is unknown; your feat will be remembered forever, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was saying quietly under his breath, while passing the granite tombs with names of the cities- heroes, - they won't write this about me my name is known Dirty cars hurried along the gray morning Okhotnyi Ryad, and somebody was washing the windows of a caf across the artificial Neglinki. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ wanted to kick the fallen leaves, but there were no leaves. It was January. Suddenly a vigorous old man darted across his path. The old man's head was bald as a billiard ball and he was wearing a shabby and in some places torn-up suit made by the clothing factory "Bolshevichka". The FSB agents visibly tensed up. - Je ne mange pas six jours. Geben Sie mir bitte ein paar Kopeken fur ein Stuck Brot, - muttered the old man, extending a wide dirty palm to Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Please give something to the former State Duma deputy. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took a closer look at the old man and suddenly recognized him. - Vasilyi Ivanovich, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Bro! Enough of panhandling. You should go to Sochi, get some rest, write a book of memoirs or better go to Suzdal. You know I was recently there in Suzdal and there was - Been there already, - discontentedly grunted Vasiliy Ivanovich, freeing himself from Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s embrace, - such a tiny little town and you are still as greedy as you were before. Not even a single percent would share Vasilyi Ivanovich spit into the ground by Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s feet, gave him a look full of hate, turned around and walked away. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked after him in dismay. - The best people are leaving, - whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - what is happening? what a cruel time this is. The FBS agents relaxed.
Friday, January 16, 2004 13:46:54
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin once got a call from Irina Muzuovna Khakamada. - Listen, Bro, - said Irina Muzuovna, - I wrote a statement here. - A statement? - repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - about what? - How Movsar wasn't going to blow up the "Nord-Ost", - said Irina Muzuovna, - and how you decided to kill the people in the audience. - To kill? - asked a surprised Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Me?! But what for?! - Because you are a murderer! - exhaled Irina Muzuovna, - Murderer! Why did you kill kass shoot why did you kill Movsar? - But he was a terrorist, - answered a puzzled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - why are you calling? - I wrote a statement, - repeated Irina Muzuovna, - it is a very serious statement, Volodya, very, very serious. - Are you getting married again? - ventured a guess Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - whom are you marrying? Do I know him? - Do not interrupt my train of thought, - excitedly carried on Irina Muzuovna, - Murderer! You killed the audience! - Is this your husband number five? - counted Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - what do you do with them? Almost like the Bluebeard - I will tell all! - Irina Muzuovna was getting all worked up, - How you planned to kill the audience! How you made lists of those who were to live and those who were to die! - And where is the wedding at? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - or will there be no wedding? What does the liberal thought have to say on this subject? - Why did you blow up the apartment buildings?! - charged Irina Muzuovna again, - What was wrong with them? - I wonder what the wedding traditions are like in Japan, - mused Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - and is it true that your brother lives there? Vladimir Volfovich told me that - I actually even think that the submarine went down by yours order too, - persisted Irina Muzuovna, - because you are a bloodthirsty murderer. - And I don't have a brother, - sadly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - not even a little sis - You pulled the wool over the eyes of the whole world! - Irina Muzuovna was on fire, - and I thank God that as a woman, a mother of two children, I still had enough courage to start the negotiations with the terrorists! - Listen, do you speak Japanese by any chance? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I mean all those hieroglyphs - Murderers! Terrorists are in power! - stubbornly repeated Irina Muzuovna. - It's unbelievable, - uttered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in astonishment, - there's so many of them, hieroglyphs Can't count all... - The dictatorship will fail! - exclaimed Irina Muzuovna. All of a sudden there was a dry click in the receiver and the connection was cut off. "And why was she calling me?" - thought Vladimir Vladimirovich™ completely bewildered, - "I still have no idea".
Friday, January 16, 2004 13:37:51
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his Chief of Staff were sitting in one of the Kremlin offices and designing a plan for a further space exploration program. - In my opinion, Bro, - was saying Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - we should fly to Venus. - Why Venus? - Asked the Chief of Staff, - what about the Moon? - Any idiot can fly to the Moon, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and moved his hand as if adjusting his imaginary cowboy hat, - There's no point for us in flying to the Moon. I gotta tell you in confidence that we already have a special Moon guards regiment stationed there. All is taken care of. Let's fly to Venus instead. - And what about Mars? - Asked the Chief of Staff, - We can also go to Mars. - Tsss! - hissed Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in a dreadful voice, - please, Bro, don't even say a word about it. - Why, what's up? - Asked the Chief of Staff in surprise, - Americans, by the way, are just about. - I can't explain it to you right now, - vaguely replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - but they will regret this later, trust me on that. It's just that Georgie there's in his head I don't know how to put it he has this "You are talking too much, lieutenant colonel", - rang inside Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s head a familiar gurgling voice of his personal Martian, "asking for a stroke, don't ya?" - Anyways, forget about Mars, - tersely said a suddenly pale Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - let's better talk about Venus. - Well, okay, -reluctantly agreed the Chief of Staff, - are you the president, not me. - There we go, - sighing with relief said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Let's go to Venus then. It is just as good as Mars, right? - Most likely there's no life on Venus, - replied the Chief of Staff. - Good! - Passionately said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - It's good that there's no life. Fewer problems. Chechnya alone is enough. - I'll then be sending this to the astronauts, - said the Chief of Staff, adding something to a form document, - Let them get ready. - Do that, - consented Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - and I feel like reading Kant. I'll go pick up a book. The men got up from the table.
Monday, January 12, 2004 14:01:12
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was once sitting in his Kremlin office and reading the magazine Out loud. Suddenly there was a knock on the tall office doors, they opened with a slight creak, and in walked the Chief of Staff. He was holding a silver tray with a misted over bottle of vodka Russian Standard and two platinum shot glasses with two-headed gold eagles on the sides. - Whats up with all this so early? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, readily putting aside the magazine. - January ninth, - replied the Chief of Staff, approaching the wide presidential desk, - The Bloody Sunday. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked at his Chief of Staff with surprise and then at his desk calendar. - Listen, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, looking back up at the Chief of Staff, - are you sure? - As sure as I can be, - said the Chief of Staff, - Gapon the priest, gendarmes, execution, and all that. Lets remember them in a due way. - Of course we will, - agreed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Why not? Its only that - What? The Chief of Staff placed the tray on the presidential desk. - I dont even know how to tell you this, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - but actually, today is Friday. - It should be Sunday, - convincingly said the Chief of Staff, - I saw it for myself in the history textbook. - I dont know what it should be, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - but today IS Friday. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ poked his finger into the calendar. - Maybe its a different calendar? Hesitantly asked the Chief of Staff. - Maybe thats it - meditatively replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - well, whatever, lets have some and well figure it out later. The Chief of Staff readily began to unscrew the bottle top.
Friday, January 9, 2004 16:26:47
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and thinking about the fate of Russia. All of a sudden rang his phone. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ picked up. - Hey, Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ heard his Chief of Staffs voice, - whatcha doin on Christmas? Its kind of a holy holiday and all that - On Christmas? repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I dont know yet. Havent thought about it. - Lets swing by Suzdal, - suggested the Chief of Staff, - its a cool place. - Suzdal? once again repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - sure, why not? Suzdal it is. Get everything ready. A little while later Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was standing in the Archbishop Palace of the Suzdal Kremlin. Next to him were standing clergymen from the nearby monasteries, teachers, doctors, scientists. The holiday concert was about to begin. - Male choir Grace"! solemnly announced a funny man with a beard. Comely, serious looking men formed rows in front of Vladimir Vladimirovich™, clergymen, teachers, doctors and scientists. - Sergei Rachmaninov, - announced the funny man with a beard, - All-night vigil". Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his eyebrows in surprise. - All-night? he asked the funny man, - are you kidding me, Bro? You think we are gonna hang around here all night? As if we have no important state business to attend to The funny man blushed. - And besides, - continued Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Rachmaninov wont do. He deserted the country at a very difficult time, moved to the US. We dont need composers like this. Lets hear something patriotic. The funny man was at a loss for words. - How about something by the band Lube? Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked the choir, - Do you know this I will go into the night with my horse, tatata ta Vladimir Vladimirovich™ clapped his hands to the rhythm. The choir singers looked at each other and timidly chimed in. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ grinned contentedly.
Thursday, January 8, 2004 17:30:37
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once sitting in his Kremlin office and calculating something on his big presidential abacus with gold beads in the shape of a two-headed eagle. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was moving the beads from side to side, and the eagles were merrily spinning in different directions. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was deep in thought, marking something down in his presidential notebook with a gold Parker pen. A little later he phoned his Chief of Staff. - Hey, Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Ive been sitting here and calculating. Theres almost seventy-eight billion dollars in our treasury. If you divide that up among all of our citizens, itll be hang on a sec seventy-eight billion by hundred and forty five millionkeep this in mind ughhno, cross out zero here here it is somewhere around five hundred thirty eight dollars per person. - And? Chief of Staffs interest was piqued. - Aaaand, mimicked him Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - its all clear. We are rich. Say, even if we do not split it up equally. Someone gets to have more, someones less. But anyways, we could give five hundred bucks to each one! - Since you are our super president, - unceremoniously said the Chief of Staff, and then decided to correct himself, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ - As you were, enough praising the president, - wearily said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - however, we did a great job. And what can one buy with five hundred dollars? - One can buy a TV set, - replied the Chief of Staff, - even two. Or a computer. - What about a car? asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - or a trip to the Canary islands? - No, - answered the Chief of Staff, - You cant buy a car for five hundred dollars. Maybe an old broken down Zhiguli". A trip to the Canary Islands is very unlikely, maybe Egypt or Turkey. - Well, - drawled Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in disappointment, - In that case, work, everyone, work! So instead of saying in my address to the Duma that our reserves can pay for the imported products all year long, Ill say theyll enable every citizen of our country to travel to the Canary Islands. Something they can relate better to. - Well work on it, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - enthusiastically replied the Chief of Staff, - Bro lets bring it up to one grand! - Yeah, do that, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Let them travel a little, get some R&R Vladimir Vladimirovich™ put down the receiver, closed his eyes and saw the Russian people, enjoying themselves on the Canary Islands. It was a pretty sight.
Tuesday, January 6, 2004 13:48:11
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ called his Chief of Staff. - Hey, Bro, - worriedly asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - its been several days already and still nothing. Is he still drinking? - Yep, still drinking, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - ruefully answered the Chief of Staff - Should we then maybe send him something, ugh? - Anxiously continued Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - what kind of things he likes? - What do you mean? Didnt understand the Chief of Staff, - something like a New Years present? - Oh, no, not that, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - we dont need to spoil him with presents, or else hell think Ive appointed him my personal biographer. They are all like that I mean something anonymous. - Anonymous? Chief of Staff was growing more confused, - But what? What might he want? - Thats why I have you, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - its your job to figure that out. - Me- said the Chief of Staff perplexed, - I will try Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Bro. The Chief of Staff hung up. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ slowly replaced the receiver and pressed the key F5 on his presidential keyboard. The site vladimir.vladimirovich.ru was refreshed, but there were no new entries. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed and logged on to the guestroom.
Monday, January 5, 2004 14:53:42
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once sitting in his Kremlin office and getting ready to read his traditional New Years address to the nation. As Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once again going over the text, a cute make-up artist was gently touching up his face with a soft little brush, and the cameraman was hollering across the room to a boy in charge of the lighting: - Set up the control light, you knucklehead! The director of the New Years show was standing by the cameramans side and talking to his assistant under his breath: - The entry of the day before yesterday reads listen Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was once - Thats enough, cut it out there, will you? - Suddenly rumbled Vladimir Vladimirovich™s voice, - Get busy instead of listening to all kinds of nonsense. What have you got there? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, we are about to begin look into the camera number two- said the cameraman. A red light lit up on the camera. - Dear friends! - Said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, looking directly into the camera, - another year has passed by. And right now we are all thinking of what we consider most important in our lives. In one way or another we are assessing the results of this past year. The whole country is making this assessment with you. On this New Years Eve I would like to thank you for everything. For everything we achieved in the past year. Because that whats ahead of us largely depends on what has already been done. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ paused, rustling his papers, looked at the director and asked: - Who wrote all this? Have they read it themselves? The director was silent, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sighed and continued reading. - Well, ok Every one of us has had a different year. Tonight, however, not forgetting the past, we are, of course, thinking about the future. Thats why above all I would like to wish you that your dreams may come true. That everything you planned, wished, and hoped for would be accomplished. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ paused again and pointedly looked at the director, whose hand was gliding around the waist of his beautiful assistant. - Look here, when I am speaking! barked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The producer immediately jerked his hand away. The assistant blushed. - Let all good beginnings, plans and intentions come to fruition, - continued Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in his calm voice, - Let everyone be successful in the New Year. For thats what our life together, the future of the country, the future of Russia depends on. Let our parents and children be healthy. Let there be peace and prosperity in every home! Every one should understand this once and for all: you must abide the law always and not only when you are caught by the balls. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ again paused for a little bit and expressively looked into the camera. - I wish you all a Happy New Year, including those who on this New Years Eve are away from their families. By the decision of the court, for instance. We are on the threshold of the fourth year of the third millennium. Russia is a country of a thousand year history and it is proudly welcoming its future. We have a good old tradition to exchange presents on the New Year. Lets give to those dear to us the most precious, the most valuable gifts we have- our kindness, love and attention. And please stop the hysteria. I have made myself clear- there wont be any bargaining. Happy New Year to you, dear friends, and all the best! Does that sound okay? The Kremlin bells began to bong. Amid joyful voices and pops of champagne corks, someone said: Not a bad job. A flustered assistant came up to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, let me take the mic off. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his hands. The assistant lifted the mic from the buttonhole and pulled the wire from behind his jacket. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got up from his presidential chair, walked around the table and went out of his overcrowded office. - Happy New Year, Vladimir Vladimirovich™! - yelled someone to his back, raising a champagne glass.
Monday, January 5, 2004 14:48:24
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and Mikhail Borisovich Khodorkovsky were once sitting in a jail cell in Matrosskaya Tishina and playing dominoes. - Blank and blank, - was saying Mikhail Borisovich, arranging a domino piece on a scratched table, - got some cabbage in the bank. - Speaking of cabbage, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, placing his piece next to Mikhail Borisovichs, - Roma is worried, saying hes hard up. - Short on dough for the soccer players? - smiled Mikhail Borisovich, - Tell me, bro, why would Russia need all these soccer players? - Since we dont have any of our own? - guessed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - and what would you buy? - Well, - Mikhail Borisovich dreamingly rolled his eyes, - I would buy a Disneyland - Thats why you are locked up here, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - so you wouldnt buy any Disneylands. We have a serious matter here at hand, and you act like a childUntil you stop drooling over this nonsense, I wont let you out of here. - I am actually enjoying myself here, - replied Mikhail Borisovich, returning to the game, - I have no obligations at all. No briefings, no meetings with shareholders. Let Kukes break his back, while I am reading Akunin. .. - You should be reading the case files instead of Akunin, - strictly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - there youll find a list of everything we want to purchase. Suddenly there was a knock on the metal door of the prison cell. Mikhail Borisovich approached the peep-hole and opened it from the inside. - Hey Bro, - quietly said the guard, - Someone called from the Basmannyi court they request you to come - Tell them I cant right now, - answered Mikhail Borisovich, - Well finish this game first and then go. - But- the guard was at a loss for words, - everybodys already there, waiting for you - Hey, Bro, tell him, would you? - Mikhail Borisovich turned to Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I cant leave right now. I am in the middle of the game Vladimir Vladimirovich™ walked up to the peep-hole, looked inside and said: - Mikhail Borisovich can not leave now. The guard winked in fear. - Tell the judge, let them better come to us, - continued Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - well be finished by the time they get here. The guard convulsively nodded his head and clinked his keys. - And dont put anyone through to us! snapped Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and shut the peep-hole closed. Mikhail Borisovich and Vladimir Vladimirovich™ laughed out loud. - Its like on any other regular day not one son of a bitch would call, - muttered Mikhail Borisovich. But as soon as I sit down for a game of dominos- they just lose their mind. One thing after another - Four by two, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - our apologies to you. On a well deserved table he put a domino piece with two fours.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003 15:43:46
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once answering the questions of his fellow countrymen. - Hey Bro, - asked Alexander Zarzhevsky, a miner,- I live in the same house where my father had lived. The walls of the house are caving in. The government is all talk, but it has not undertaken anything yet to improve the living conditions, why? - And where do you live? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ asked the miner. - In a town called Berezovsky, Kemerovsk district, - answered the miner. - I beg your pardon? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was surprised, -Berezovsky? And what do you expect?! Next question, please. He was given the next question.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003 15:43:29
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once answering the questions of his fellow countrymen. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - volunteered one lady, - you still havent announced whether or not you will be running for president. So will you or not? - Run for president? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, a little taken aback.But I am already one. Why should I run? - For the second term - replied the lady, all confused. - The second term? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sounded surprised again, - Why? Is this one ending? Well, if I need to, then of course, I will. And dont you worry there, Ill be advised what to do I have a good administration.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003 15:43:12
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once answering the questions of his fellow countrymen. - How do you feel about officials hanging your portraits in their offices? someone asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The President, - replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - He is like a flag. Or like a coat of arms. The states symbol. Moderation is the key. If you go overboard, thenwell, think about it yourselves- you can hang a neat medium size picture on the wall, or place a five by seven photo on a desk. I can even sign it, why not? But 12x12 is a little too much This is idolization of sorts
Tuesday, December 23, 2003 15:38:12
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once answering the questions of his fellow countrymen. - Commander-in-Chief!- said captain Sergei Dorofeev from Kyrgyztan, - People say that the military reform is almost over! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned back, looked around, and peered into the cameras eye with surprise. - Hey, Bro, - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - who were you just talking to?
Tuesday, December 23, 2003 15:37:39
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once answering the questions of his fellow countrymen. - Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - addressed him Marcel Akhmedzyanov from Tatarstan, - Arent you bothered by the parodies of popular artists? - No, I am not, - answered VV, - this is an inevitable part of being a president. Only this mister whats his name parkerthe one whos writing all that crap about me in the internet- thats scandalous. But one cant help it- we sort of like have free speech. Gotta endure it.
Friday, December 19, 2003 12:45:17
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin and Yury Mikhailovich Luzkov were once walking around the Kremlin. Congratulations, Yury Mikhailovich", - was saying Vladimir Vladimirovich™, Here you are, Mayor of Moscow again. How many terms has it been?" This is the fourth one," answered the mayor, coyly casting down his eyes. The fourth one," dreamingly said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, Id like that as a president" Thats easy," replied Yury Mikhailovich, There are two ways to do it." Two?" Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked up at Yury Mikhailovich. What are they?" The first one," continued Yury Mikhailovich, is to change the Constitution so that the president could serve four terms in a row." Well, thats clear," agreed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, What about the second one?" The second one," said Yury Mikhailovich, is to change the Constitution so that one presidential term would be sixteen years. At the same time, thatll save some money at the spring election." No way," disagreed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, People wont understand. Weve got to hold an election." Then theres the third way," offered Yury Mikhailovich, Change the constitution so that the presidential term would be twelve years. This however will only be applicable for the next elected president. Then the total will still be sixteen years." Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked at the Mayor of Moscow with respect. How adroitly you manage things," said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, You are so good with numbers you breed bees bake goodies" I am also inventing a new engine," bashfully looking down, said Yury Mikhailovich. Engine?" repeated surprised Vladimir Vladimirovich™, What engine?" A special one," replied Yury Mikhailovich, with a piston moving in circles instead of back and forth." In circles?" Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was stunned. You dont say so! And what is it for?" I dont know yet," honestly admitted Yury Mikhailovich. I cant think about everything at the same time." Vladimir Vladimirovich™ nodded in understanding and the leaders slowly continued on with their walk.
Wednesday, December 17, 2003 11:40:45
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and watching the video of Saddam Husseins medical exam. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was watching the video for the 28th time, but still could not understand how this could happen: Americans caught Saddam Hussein, but he, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin, could never catch Shamil Basaev. Whats the difference? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ though, -Where did we go wrong? How did they outplay us? This he could not understand. They used the gas Vladimir Vladimirovich™ though, - But we used the gas too! Yet, the whole world is scolding us for this, but not the Americans Vladimir Vladimirovich™ finished watching the tape and started to rewind it for the N-th time. They are performing the medical exam - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ though, - But we also have Shamils wooden leg prosthesis! Some man on the screen was pulling on Saddams ears and tongue. Ok, Saddam has a beard, - thought Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - But Shamil has one too! Where is the mistake? Nothing was coming to mind. Suddenly there were steps in the corridor. Who might that be Vladimir Vladimirovich™ though annoyed when the tall doors of this office swung open and several armed man in dirty camouflage and green headbands burst into the room. They were snarling nervously in a guttural foreign language, sweeping their weapons from side to side and wave their powerful arms at each other. - Gentlemen, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ addressed the intruders, - Brothers. Whats up? - Men, as though suddenly noticing Vladimir Vladimirovich™ for the first time started to yell again, wave their hands and pointed their guns in Vladimir Vladimirovich™s direction, all at once. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ froze trying to maintain a dignified pose. His foot landed on the panic button. One of the people with the green headbands, seemingly the leader, turned the TV onto the news channel. - Another group of guerilla fighters seized another village in Dagestan province, - read a good looking anchor woman, - Bandits sized the hospital, and then escaped through the farming fields. Border guards staged a pursuit, but were hindered by a severe weather. People in green headbands laughed, then put a strange bottle of something on Vladimir Vladimirovichs ™ desk and ran out of the room. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ cautiously got up and moved further away from the bottle. Meanwhile the Chief of Staff peeked into the room thought the doors. He looked scarred. - Hey Bro, - the Chief of Staff said quietly, - What was that? - I dont know, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ responded honestly, - we should probably call the bomb squad. Although hold on with the squad Vladimir Vladimirovich™ seemed to recognize something, advanced to the table and picked up the bottle. - Kizliars Brandy - he read on the label, - 5 stars, top rated. Hmm, go get the glasses. Lets celebrate the divine deliverance form a terrorist threat. Three minutes later Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and the Chief of Staff were sipping sweet-scented Dagestanian Brandy with thinly sliced lemon. Strict looking newswomen reappeared on the TV. - We are interrupting our broadcast for the following breaking news: another group of the guerilla fighters crossed the Georgian border and infiltrated into Moscow, sized Kremlin, and some time later escaped through the farming fields. An emergency operation, code word Intercept, has been implemented in the Capital, but the police has been hindered by the severe weather. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and the Chief of Staff raised the glasses which produced a melodic ding. - To the severe weather, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Not gonna get us, - the Chief of Staff nodded. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ raised his finger and started tapping his foot in a fervent rhythm. Theyre not gonna get us, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ began singing to a tune of a popular group Tatu. The Chief of Staff joined in: - Theyre not gonna get us, - the officials were singing, - Theyre not gonna get us! There were a couple of days left before Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was to be nominated a presidential candidate for the next elections.
Thursday, December 11, 2003 16:30:40
One morning Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was jogging around his residence in Novo-Ogarevo. His feet were softly padding on the fine gravel road, as he was optimistically looking forward, into the future. All of a sudden Vladimir Vladimirovich™ heard the sound of heavy footsteps and labored breathing, coming from behind. A moment later, the Head of Administration appeared by his side. - Listen, Bro, - unevenly, keeping the right breathing, said Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - You should start exercising: Swim, jog, take fishing trips. - I'will, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - gasping for air, managed the Head of Administration, - For sure. - What did you want? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - The race is on, - heaved the Head of Administration. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked him over in amusement. - The race? - he repeated with a smile, - What race? You have absolutely no training. - Pre pre presi pardon me, - the Head of Administration stopped running and yelled after the disappearing Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - The presidential race! Presidential! Vladimir Vladimirovich™, too, stopped and turned to the Head of Administration. - It was never over in the first place, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ calmly, - I run every morning. The Head of Administration was panting, trying to catch his breath.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 02:57:00
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once walking past the Georgian room doors in the Kremlin when he suddenly heard a mighty song. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ carefully opened the doors as not to disturb anyone and walked inside. Rehearsing this solemn number, in the center of the room, there was a big chorus assembled from the Ministry of Interior employees. The chorus was being directed by a colonel-conductor. - United Russians, - Putin has dispatched the orders! - was singing a funny man in a tall militia service-cap, - United Russians - our Motherland is calling us! - From many thousand batteries, for our mother's tears, - picked up the chorus, - For our Homeland- Fire! Fire! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ clapped his hands and approached the conductor. - Good job, Bro, praised him Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Though what does homeland have to do with us? It's a different bloc! We need to change the words here. Let's not lump everything together: the president's party and the party "Homeland". Don't confuse the people. - Will be done, Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - reverentially whispered the conductor-colonel and bowed. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ exited the room.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 02:56:43
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once sitting in his Kremlin office and watching a new Quentin Tarantino movie. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Vexed, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned off the TV where the beautiful Uma Turman was just about to kill someone, and said in a loud voice: - Well, now, come in The tall Kremlin doors of Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s office slowly cracked open and in walked the Head of the Administration and his Deputy Chief, Surkov. - Congrats, Bro! - happily said the Deputy Chief Surkov, - We won! - Chelsea? Against who? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - No, not Chelsea, - stepped in the Head of Administration, - We have won the elections! - What elections? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ wasn't following. The Head of Administration and his Deputy Chief smiled understandingly. - The constitutional majority is in our pocket now, - quietly said the Deputy Chief Surikov. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ involuntarily shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket. There was a presidential cell phone. - And what does it mean? - cautiously asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - We can now amend the Constitution! - solemnly announced the Head of the Administration. - The Constitution? - repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - What for? - Well, - said a surprised Deputy Chief Surkov, - It's just so cool! No one had ever been able to change the Constitution! And now we can! - Really? - Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s interest was piqued. - And I say, let's do it! Let's try! Do you have a Constitution handy? - Yes, Sir! - The Deputy Chief Surikov readily pulled out of his pocket a booklet with the Constitution and handed it over to Vladimir Vladimirovich™. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ opened it on the first page. - Chapter one. The foundation of the Constitutionalism, - read Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Article one. Russian Federation is a democratic federal jural state with a constitutional government. Well, we can start from here. The Head of Administration and his Deputy exchanged happy glances.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 02:56:23
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once riding in a car along the snow covered Tverskaya Street. On the sidewalk, people were slowly making their way, struggling through the blizzard and wet snow. Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s fatherly glance was gliding from one pedestrian to another as he was thinking how he can best fix Russia up. Suddenly his eye caught a group of familiar looking people. A tall man in a fur hat with ear flappers was walking with a huge hiking backpack on his shoulders. He was followed by a small fragile woman, wrapped in a long wool shawl adorned with hieroglyphs, who was trying to keep pace. The woman was dragging a suitcase on wheels behind her. - Listen, Governor, - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ knocked on the glass partition of his driver, - Pull up here, will you? I'll get out. The presidential limo slid to a smooth stop at the sidewalk. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ got out of the car and ran up to the man and the woman: - Borya, Ira, where are you heading to? - agitated, asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - I am personally going to Japan, - answered the woman. - And I am to Israel, - looking to the side, said the man. - Why? - asked the stunned Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - What happened?! Ludmila and I were expecting you over on Saturday! - There's nothing left for us do here now, - softly said the woman, - Let the liberal democrats do everything. - But, Ira, there are Liberal Democrats in Japan too! - exclaimed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, -For the past forty four years! Borya! Tell her! And what about you? You'll be enlisted! - It is better in a tank in Palestine, - grumbled the man, - Than in a suit with these fascists - Oh, please, Borya, come on! - Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was getting very upset, - Ira! Come, get into the car, let's go to the Kremlin, have some tea! The man and the woman hesitantly looked at each other. For a moment there was a flicker of hope in Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s eyes. - Well, coming? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™. And just like that, darkness fell over the city. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked perplexedly around - Tverskaya suddenly went dead. Out went the store lights and the bright commercial ads, the alarm systems were disabled, and somewhere deep down in the tunnel shut down the subway system. - What is it? - whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Tolya is leaving too, - said the woman, - Just turned off the light. He'll be coming shortly. Farewell, Vladimir Vladimirovich™. The man and the woman slowly resumed their walk. - Ira! Borya! - hollered after them Vladimir Vladimirovich™. - Why, why are you leaving?! Tears came out of his eyes. - I won't let you leave! - yelled Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Russia needs you! Vladimir Vladimirovich™ jumped into the car. - Give it some gas! - he shouted to the driver. The driver followed his orders.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 02:55:47
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and his wife were once walking along the Kosygin Street. Suddenly the presidential cell phone rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled a phone with a two-headed eagle instead of the display and pressed the only key on the side. - Hey, Bro, - anxiously said someone at the other end of the line, - This is Murtaza. - Well, hi, Murtaza, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ dryly, - What's going on? - They are driving me crazy, - dreadfully whispered Murtaza, - They are driving me crazy, Bro! - Who "they"? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich™ in bewilderement. - I have nightmares of Alsou, Bro, - continued to whisper Murtaza, - Her, waving the charred ballots in my face - You have completely lost it, Murtaza, - reproachfully said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - You can't work that hard. Why don't you go somewhere, Canary islands, for instance - To recharge my batteries? - asked Murtaza. - To recharge your batteries, - confirmed Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - As an ambassador And he turned off his phone.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 02:55:22
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin's favorite lab whelped. - It's okay Bro, - whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, delivering another black pup, - Everything will be fine we'll place them well Vladimir Vladimirovich™'s spouse hustled and bustled by his side, bringing him towels and water. - This one, I think, we can send to Yavlinsky, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ scrutinizing the pup's snout, and it looks like him too, and here's another one. This time it was a white pup. - And this is Chubais, - muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Like two peas Soon it was over. Eight puppies helplessly moved their paws and poked their snouts in their mother's belly, looking for her nipples. - Six black ones and two white ones, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, happily looking at his wife, - Each will get one - Yavlinsky, Chubais, Zhirinovsky, Nemtsov, Shoigu, Luzhkov, Khakamada, Zuganov. We'll do it the proper way. Now they are all bound by blood. - What about Gryzlov? - gingerly asked his wife. - We'll buy him an AIBO, answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, setting off to wash his hands. The first lady sighed and went to pour out the water.
Saturday, December 6, 2003 14:56:39
Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was once riding on a commuter train to his dacha in Novo-Ogarevo. The coach was moving from side to side as the train ran along the narrow Rublevo-Uspensko high road. People dubbed this commuter train "presidential", as it was mostly used by the members of the presidential administration, bureaucrats of various ministries and departments, and local authorities. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was sitting on a wooden bench next to a dirty window, smeared with wet snow and for the fourth time was rereading the draft of the state budget for the next year. From time to time, people, wearing Chinese down jackets with dirty brown scarves wrapped around their waists, passed through the car. They were hauling small hand-carts, filled with newspapers, magazines, crossword puzzles, helium pens and wonder sawing machines, operating without cotton. As Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was poring over another chapter, a big red-faced man with sly eyes noisily plopped on the seat across from him. The man winked at Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and with a left hand finger pointed to the big plastic IKEA bag he was holding in his right hand. - Want some? - the man asked tersely. His right hand sleeve hiked up a bit, revealing an inexpensive commander's watch. The President glanced around and gave a quick nod. Without further ado, the man lowered his head into the bag, there was a soft clink of glass, a gurgle, and a moment later two huge hands appeared in front of Vladimir Vladimirovich™, each one clutching a plastic cup with a transparent liquid inside. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ tentatively took one of the cups and smelled it. It reeked of pure alcohol. - Well, to the victory, - whispered the man. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ nodded, and they did a quick bottoms up. Immediately out of the bag emerged a pickle and a piece of dark bread. - Went down smooth, - croaked the man. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ wrinkled his nose and nodded in agreement. Up came a girl and modestly sat down on the edge of the bench. - Let's do another one, - whispered the man and immersed his head into the bad again. They did another one. The girl was just sitting there and gazing somewhere in front of her, through the people and the train car door, through the snow-clad woods, stretching along the Rublevo-Uspensko high road, through the entire length of the Russian highland, through the atmosphere and space, through the time itself. - Hey Sis, wanna join in? - the man asked the girl, - I see you are in mourning for someone, just buried a soldier? The girl slowly turned her head to face the man and looked right through him with her black eyes. - Buried, indeed, - she said softly with a heavy southern accent. She was twiddling something in her hands. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked down and saw her holding two little wires. - Let's do a quckie third one, - he told the man, - And we're getting off. The man's head immediately disappeared inside the plastic bag. The girl got up from her seat and walked straight down the aisle.
Friday, December 5, 2003 14:40:41
One day as Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was walking to work at his usual deliberate pace, an inconspicuous man with small eyes and a strange face expression stopped him at the Kremlin building no.1. The man grabbed Vladimir Vladimirovich™ by the hand and quickly muttered: - Give back the natural resources rent! Give it back! Give back the natural resources rent! He then pulled a little book out of his pocket and started saying an absolute nonsense. He was a regular kind of economist, the kind you run into at the Kremlin building number 1. Nevertheless, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ went up to his office in a perturbed spirit. From this encounter on things started to get even weirder. At 3am Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was woken up. A telegram arrived. His teeth chattering in the morning cold, the President tore the package open and read: "Platon with an unchanged face is flying to Tbilisi". - What Platon? - whispered the stupefied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, standing barefoot in the hall. No one answered. The mailman had already left. Outside in the yard cooed the doves. The family was asleep. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned the gray piece of paper in his hands. The address was correct and so was the last name: "Usovo Novo-Garevo Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin Plato with an unchanged face is flying to Tbilisi". Vladimir Vladimirovich™ didn't understand a thing, but he was so agitated that he burned the telegram with a candle. At 5.30pm on the same day, the second dispatch arrived: "The meeting is in session period million voters". Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned pale from anger and tore up the telegram. On the same night two more urgent telegrams were delivered. The first one was: "Load up the barrels with the polls period Berezovsky brothers". The second one read: "The ice broke period I am calling the shots". Following this, an embarrassing incident took place at work. On the Administration Head's request to show a strangling judo move khadaka-dzimme, he made a mistake and almost broke the official's neck, which had never happened to him before. At the moment there was no time for judo moves. He couldn't get the crazy telegrams out of his head. - Barrels, - whispered Vladimir Vladimirovich™ gazing at his picture on the wall, - Berezovskiy brothers. What insolence! He was trying to console himself with the thought that it was some friends cute prank, but this idea had to be immediately discarded. He didn't have any friends. As for his co-workers, they were serious people and joked just once a year on April 1. Even on this day of happy amusements and joyful hoaxes, they used one and the same joke every year: they would type up a fake decree ordering Kasyanov's resignation and leave it on his desk. Every year for the past three years the Prime Minister would clutch at his heart to everyone's great amusement. The last telegram, authored by an unknown citizen, who claimed to be calling the shots, was followed by a quiet interlude. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was not bothered for three whole days. He began to get used to the idea that the recent events were irrelevant to him, when he received a thick package by registered mail. Inside there was a book titled "Capitalist sharks" with a heading "Biographies of American billionaires". At some other time, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ would buy such an entertaining book himself, though at the moment he was horror-stricken. The first line was circled in a blue crayon and read: "All big fortunes of our time were acquired in a most fraudulent way". This was exactly what Vladimir Vladimirovich™ agreed with. However, it did not give him a peace of mind.
Thursday, December 4, 2003 23:06:08
One day Vladimir Vladimirovich™ was feeling bored. He watched the news, signed a few new laws, shopped online for lube oil for his Minister of Interior, had some tea, and was considering a smoke but Vladimir Vladimirovich™ didnt smoke. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ looked out the window, looked at his portrait hanging on the wall, watched some more news and called his Head of Administration. - Hey Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - Call the Vnukovo airport. Have them refuel a plane for me. - A plane? - repeated the Head of Administration, surprised, - Are we going somewhere? - I dont know what about you,- replied Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - but I am going. - Where?! - asked the stunned Head of Administration, - And I didnt even know anything.. - Of course, you didnt, said Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - I just thought of it myself. Everybodys flying somewhere- Bush went to Iraq, Hillary to Afganistan, even Berezovsky went to Georgia. What, am I worse than others? Id like to secretly fly somewhere too. - I understand, - whispered the Head of Administration, - Where are we flying to, Bro? - This I cannot disclose, - answered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, - otherwise this wont be any secret anymore. Theres probably another one of the Tregubova kind sitting in your office. Under your wing.. - Under whose wing? - grumbled the Head of Administration. - Hes getting better at it, - contentedly thought Vladimir Vladimirovich™ and said aloud, - Cut it out! Call the pilots! - Yes, Sir! - barked the Head of Administration and hung up. Vladimir Vladimirovich™ leaned back in his chair. It was now time to decide where to fly.
Thursday, November 20, 2003 13:45:11
Vladimir Vladimirovich was once sitting in his Kremlin office and reading a textbook on judo. Suddenly his phone rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich immediately picked up. - Hey Bro, - exclaimed excitedly his Attorney General, - Bereza(ovsky) with Gus(insky) have arrived! - Arrived where? - Vladimir Vladimirovich was confused. - In Moscow! - the Attorney General was almost yelling. - We are off to nab them. - Take me along - was all that Vladimir Vladimirovich had time to say, butAttorney General already hung up. Vladimir Vladimirovich bolted from his desk, grabbed his presidential coatand ran out into the snow-clad Red Square. A minute later a FSB secret services car screeched to a halt, the passenger seat door flung open, Vladimir Vladimirovich jumped inside and off they went, tearing down the street at full speed. About four in the afternoon a large group of men dressed in civilian clothes got out of three cars, stopping a little short before the designated apartment building. Right then the group split up into two smaller ones, one of which went through the gateway and the backyard straight into the sixth entryway and the other one opened a little door, usually kept nailed up, leading to the back entrance. Both groups began ascending different staircases to the apt. 66. While all this was unfolding, Boris A. Berezovsky and Vladimir A. Gusinsky were sitting in the dining room, finishing breakfast. - What are those steps on the staircase? - asked Boris A. playing with a desert spoon in his little cup of black coffee. - Oh, that's to arrest us,- answered Vladimir A. and downed a shot of cognac. - Oh, okay,- replied to that Boris A. Those, climbing the main staircase, were already on the third floor landing. There were two plumbers tinkering with the radiator of the central heating. Those, walking by, exchanged a meaningful look with the plumbers. - Everybody's home, - whispered one of the plumbers, gently knocking on the pipe with a hammer. Then one of the men in front openly pulled out a black Mauser from under the coat, and the man next to him- lock-picks. In a split second the front door of the apartment 66 was opened and the men found themselves in the hall. The back door in the kitchen banged at the same time, testifying that the second group arrived there right on time as well. The people instantly scattered around the rooms, and though they didn't find anyone, in the kitchen they found the remnants of an unfinished breakfast, and in the living room - a huge black cat sitting on the mantelpiece, next to a crystal vase. A kerosene lamp was cradled in his paws. In an utter silence they were studying this cat for a pretty long time. - Hm, this is really cool, - whispered one of the men. - We've missed them again, - muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich, vexed and slowly exited the room. The secret service men began to break the walls. The investigation undertakings began.
Wednesday, November 19, 2003 12:45:03
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin called the Attorney General Ustinov. - Listen Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich said quietly, - What's up with that Jackson? How did that happen? - What Jackson? - the attorney general was surprised. - Michael, - Vladimir Vladimirovich switched to whisper, - Michael Jackson. The American singer. The white negro. - What about him? - the attorney general did not understand. - What do you mean? - said Vladimir Vladimirovich, - they served him with the warrant. Searched the house. That's you, right? - What're you talking about, bro? - the Attorney General was taken aback, - how can it be me, I am the Russian Attorney General, not the American. - Still, something is not right here, - Vladimir Vladimirovich muttered, - Would not hurt to check it out This Jackson - what are his dealing with this guy - What guy? - Attorney General asked confused. - You know, he who must not be named, - Vladimir Vladimirovich whispered. - I understand, Attorney General lowered his voice, - We'll get started on the official inquiry to the US Justice Department right away. - Get to work, - Vladimir Vladimirovich ordered and hung up the phone. His career in intelligence taught him to be exceptionally vigilant.
Monday, November 17, 2003 17:08:50
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich called London again and requested the Queen. - Listen, are you giving Zakaev back yet? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich right off the bet, before saying "Hello". - No, - the queen responded. - Suit yourself, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich. - Have you heard about the pink diamond, the 100 million one? - Yes I heard, - the queen answered. - Who do you think bought it? - Vladimir Vladimirovich asked... The Queen did not answer. - What about the resort in the Alps? Have you heard of that? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich again. -Yes I did, - the queen responded. - Who do you think bought that? - Vladimir Vladimirovich asked. The Queen fell silent. She began to understand the predicament.
Monday, November 17, 2003 17:08:50
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich called London again and requested the Queen. - Listen, are you giving Zakaev back yet? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich right off the bet, before saying "Hello". - No, - the queen responded. - Suit yourself, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich. - Have you heard about the pink diamond, the 100 million one? - Yes I heard, - the queen answered. - Who do you think bought it? - Vladimir Vladimirovich asked... The Queen did not answer. - What about the resort in the Alps? Have you heard of that? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich again. -Yes I did, - the queen responded. - Who do you think bought that? - Vladimir Vladimirovich asked. The Queen fell silent. She began to understand the predicament.
Monday, November 17, 2003 13:45:11
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich was sitting in front of the television watching the Daily News show. They were supposed to show an episode on his restaurant trip with a tow-haired journalist chick from the "Kommersant" newspaper. Half of the show has passed but Vladimir Vladimirovich was still maintaining his calm. When the time approached 15 minutes before the end of the show, Vladimir Vladimirovich though "They should've ran it a bit earlier in the program". Once there was 5 minutes left Vladimir Vladimirovich began to fidget in his chair. When the program ended, Vladimir Vladimirovich has looked at the TV remote control in disbelief. They did not show the episode. Vladimir Vladimirovich dialed his Chief of Staff immediately. - Listen Bro, - Vladimir Vladimirovich said, - What's up with that? - What's up with what, sir? the Chief of Staff replied, - Sorry I meant brother - They showed nothing about the Tregubova chick! Vladimir Vladimirovich said sounding hurt, - Darkin has called, and he said the episode is pretty good. He said - a must see - I will get on it, - the Chief of Staff said and disconnected. Vladimir Vladimirovich switched to the music channel, rather annoyed. They were showing the new clip of the "Mumij Trol" band. Big stuffed teddy bears and huge green cucumbers were running around the kitchen and flirted with each other. "What a disgrace", - Vladimir Vladimirovich though, but kept on watching. Suddenly the phone rang. Vladimir Vladimirovich picked up the phone. This was his Chief of Staff. - Listen Bro, - the Chief of Staff said, - switch the channel to NTV. They will run it again. A special one, just for you. Vladimir Vladimirovich switched to NTV. They were rolling the opening shots for the Daily News show. Vladimir Vladimirovich shifted in his presidential chair trying to find the most comfortable position.
Friday, November 14, 2003 15:24:52
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich called London and requested the Queen. - Listen Sister, - Vladimir Vladimirovich addressed the Queen, - what's wrong with you? - What's wrong with me? The Queen was surprised. - No, for real, what's wrong with you, eh? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich sounding slighted hurt. -We had a deal, didn't we? Didn't we?! - What deal, sir? - The Queen asked with a faux surprise. - "Sir" my deep blue eye! - Vladimir Vladimirovich continued, - Do we have a deal to fight the terrorism? - Well yeah. - responded the Queen. - "Well" my ass, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich loosing temper, - If we got a deal, how come you won't give Zakaev back? - Zakaev is not a terrorist - responded the Queen. - How would you know that? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, - did he tell you himself? Or perhaps, what's her face, Vanessa told you? I can dispatch to you as many of those Vanessa's as you may desire, from colonel and up. They'll tell you Give us Zakaev back!- No way, - said the Queen. - No waaay? - Vladimir Vladimirovich repeated with scary notes in his voice. - No way - the Queen confirmed firmly. - Alright, I will tell Roman to buy the Buckingham Palace then, OK? - Vladimir Vladimirovich sounded threatening, - You will end up on the streets. In a homeless shelter! - One can't acquire the Buckingham Palace, - the Queen responded unshaken. "One can't" - repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich sarcastically, - Roman can. Roman can do anything. He is the governor of Chukotka. Can you begin to imagine what that means? The Queen hung up the phone. Vladimir Vladimirovich reached tentatively for the suitcase with the nuclear keys, but froze in half motion with a deep thought in his eyes
Friday, November 14, 2003 15:24:52
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich called London and requested the Queen. - Listen Sister, - Vladimir Vladimirovich addressed the Queen, - what's wrong with you? - What's wrong with me? The Queen was surprised. - No, for real, what's wrong with you, eh? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich sounding slighted hurt. -We had a deal, didn't we? Didn't we?! - What deal, sir? - The Queen asked with a faux surprise. - "Sir" my deep blue eye! - Vladimir Vladimirovich continued, - Do we have a deal to fight the terrorism? - Well yeah. - responded the Queen. - "Well" my ass, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich loosing temper, - If we got a deal, how come you won't give Zakaev back? - Zakaev is not a terrorist - responded the Queen. - How would you know that? - asked Vladimir Vladimirovich, - did he tell you himself? Or perhaps, what's her face, Vanessa told you? I can dispatch to you as many of those Vanessa's as you may desire, from colonel and up. They'll tell you Give us Zakaev back!- No way, - said the Queen. - No waaay? - Vladimir Vladimirovich repeated with scary notes in his voice. - No way - the Queen confirmed firmly. - Alright, I will tell Roman to buy the Buckingham Palace then, OK? - Vladimir Vladimirovich sounded threatening, - You will end up on the streets. In a homeless shelter! - One can't acquire the Buckingham Palace, - the Queen responded unshaken. "One can't" - repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich sarcastically, - Roman can. Roman can do anything. He is the governor of Chukotka. Can you begin to imagine what that means? The Queen hung up the phone. Vladimir Vladimirovich reached tentatively for the suitcase with the nuclear keys, but froze in half motion with a deep thought in his eyes
Friday, November 14, 2003 15:06:08
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich was standing in his Kremlin office looking through the window. So far president's autumn has been rather difficult. Somewhere far away languished in iron cage Vladimir Vladimirovich's good old pal Mike Khodorkovsky. Vladimir Vladimirovich could not help Mike. Only Basmann Court could, and even then, only in case of his sincere and heartfelt confession. "See, and the files have been decrypted already" - thought Vladimir Vladimirovich as he approached the presidential control and communications panel and pressed the request button for his Chief of Staff. - Listen Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich, - why don't you get together my Elders for me. - Yes, sir, - responded Chief of Staff after a brief pause. The Elders are coming right up. Shortly thereafter, there was a careful knock on the door, the tall presidential doors opened and the Elders, lead by the Moscow's mayor, entered Vladimir Vladimirovich's office. The Elders sat cautiously around Vladimir Vladimirovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich looked carefully at them. - Say, brothers, - he began, - you recon the fishing season will be alright this year? The Elders plunged into the deep though. Few moment later mayor of Moscow took the stand. - Here's what I have to say to you. I'm not sure about the fish, but the take of honey will be good. - Yeah, right, - Vladimir Vladimirovich exhaled in disappointment, - Some elders they got me Vladimir Vladimirovich looked around at the elders once more, and asked quietly:-Um, tell me, do you find anything strange? The Elders looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich puzzled. - I mean, you don't think I became rude, for instance? That I go too far? That perhaps my personality cult is beginning to form? What do you think? The frighten Elders shook their heads. - That's good, - Vladimir Vladimirovich muttered. One of the Elders stirred in his sit and was about to move his lips. - Sit still, quiet here! - Suddenly barked Vladimir Vladimirovich nailing the elder to his chair with a stare. Gloomy silence hung in the room. - Got you scared? - Vladimir Vladimirovich smiled, - I was just kidding! The elders breathed a sigh of relief.
Friday, November 14, 2003 15:06:08
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich was standing in his Kremlin office looking through the window. So far president's autumn has been rather difficult. Somewhere far away languished in iron cage Vladimir Vladimirovich's good old pal Mike Khodorkovsky. Vladimir Vladimirovich could not help Mike. Only Basmann Court could, and even then, only in case of his sincere and heartfelt confession. "See, and the files have been decrypted already" - thought Vladimir Vladimirovich as he approached the presidential control and communications panel and pressed the request button for his Chief of Staff. - Listen Bro, - said Vladimir Vladimirovich, - why don't you get together my Elders for me. - Yes, sir, - responded Chief of Staff after a brief pause. The Elders are coming right up. Shortly thereafter, there was a careful knock on the door, the tall presidential doors opened and the Elders, lead by the Moscow's mayor, entered Vladimir Vladimirovich's office. The Elders sat cautiously around Vladimir Vladimirovich. Vladimir Vladimirovich looked carefully at them. - Say, brothers, - he began, - you recon the fishing season will be alright this year? The Elders plunged into the deep though. Few moment later mayor of Moscow took the stand. - Here's what I have to say to you. I'm not sure about the fish, but the take of honey will be good. - Yeah, right, - Vladimir Vladimirovich exhaled in disappointment, - Some elders they got me Vladimir Vladimirovich looked around at the elders once more, and asked quietly:-Um, tell me, do you find anything strange? The Elders looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich puzzled. - I mean, you don't think I became rude, for instance? That I go too far? That perhaps my personality cult is beginning to form? What do you think? The frighten Elders shook their heads. - That's good, - Vladimir Vladimirovich muttered. One of the Elders stirred in his sit and was about to move his lips. - Sit still, quiet here! - Suddenly barked Vladimir Vladimirovich nailing the elder to his chair with a stare. Gloomy silence hung in the room. - Got you scared? - Vladimir Vladimirovich smiled, - I was just kidding! The elders breathed a sigh of relief.
Friday, September 26, 2003 13:45:11
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was giving a speech at the podium of the United Nation's General Assembly. He was talking about the terrorism and the new world order, the economy and globalization, about the democracy and freedom, when suddenly he felt a tiny bothersome little stone in his custom made Italian leather shoe. "Here we go again", - Vladimir Vladimirovich though, annoyed, suddenly remembering his last State of the Union address, - "Now it's going to bug the hell out of me" Vladimir Vladimirovich continued the speech, all the while trying to twist his right foot in order to somehow avoid feeling the disturbing pebble. Yet, the more he was twisting his foot, the more the little stone was pressing in various sensitive spots."A piece of Homeland", - Vladimir Vladimirovich though tenderly. He really wanted to believe that this was a Russian rock, and not a piece of gravel just from the presidential tarmac of the Moscow International Airport "Vnukovo-2", but from a wheat field somewhere deep in middle Russia. Meanwhile, the audience began to notice Vladimir Vladimirovich's strained motions. First Condoleeza Rice looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich with an interest, then president George W Bush raised his head from the notebook where he was doodling horses and naked women. "This is getting pretty awkward" - Vladimir Vladimirovich though, trying to concentrate on the teleprompter. There was something about the strategic missile launchers. "Should I take it off somehow? Discreetly" - Vladimir Vladimirovich was still looking for a solution, - "Of course they might notice, but it's only this once. And if I don't? It will keep bugging me, won't it?" Vladimir Vladimirovich bent a little, continuing to read from the teleprompter, took of his right shoe and carefully placed it on the podium next to him. A muffled whisper rustled across the auditorium and Vladimir Vladimirovich realized that trying to take the shoe off discreetly did not work. Vladimir Vladimirovich lifted the shoe and tapped gently on the side of the rostrum so that the tiny stone would drop out. He then quickly glanced over the room pausing at the widely open eyes of Condoleeza Rice, picked up the pebble lifting his over his head and muttered slightly abashed: - I will bury it The sound of falling chairs startled the room as the representative of the UN member countries hurried for the exit. George W looked up again from his notebook with a smile. "Interesting" - Vladimir Vladimirovich thought, - "Why is everyone some jumpy today?"
Friday, September 26, 2003 13:45:11
Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was giving a speech at the podium of the United Nation's General Assembly. He was talking about the terrorism and the new world order, the economy and globalization, about the democracy and freedom, when suddenly he felt a tiny bothersome little stone in his custom made Italian leather shoe. "Here we go again", - Vladimir Vladimirovich though, annoyed, suddenly remembering his last State of the Union address, - "Now it's going to bug the hell out of me" Vladimir Vladimirovich continued the speech, all the while trying to twist his right foot in order to somehow avoid feeling the disturbing pebble. Yet, the more he was twisting his foot, the more the little stone was pressing in various sensitive spots."A piece of Homeland", - Vladimir Vladimirovich though tenderly. He really wanted to believe that this was a Russian rock, and not a piece of gravel just from the presidential tarmac of the Moscow International Airport "Vnukovo-2", but from a wheat field somewhere deep in middle Russia. Meanwhile, the audience began to notice Vladimir Vladimirovich's strained motions. First Condoleeza Rice looked at Vladimir Vladimirovich with an interest, then president George W Bush raised his head from the notebook where he was doodling horses and naked women. "This is getting pretty awkward" - Vladimir Vladimirovich though, trying to concentrate on the teleprompter. There was something about the strategic missile launchers. "Should I take it off somehow? Discreetly" - Vladimir Vladimirovich was still looking for a solution, - "Of course they might notice, but it's only this once. And if I don't? It will keep bugging me, won't it?" Vladimir Vladimirovich bent a little, continuing to read from the teleprompter, took of his right shoe and carefully placed it on the podium next to him. A muffled whisper rustled across the auditorium and Vladimir Vladimirovich realized that trying to take the shoe off discreetly did not work. Vladimir Vladimirovich lifted the shoe and tapped gently on the side of the rostrum so that the tiny stone would drop out. He then quickly glanced over the room pausing at the widely open eyes of Condoleeza Rice, picked up the pebble lifting his over his head and muttered slightly abashed: - I will bury it The sound of falling chairs startled the room as the representative of the UN member countries hurried for the exit. George W looked up again from his notebook with a smile. "Interesting" - Vladimir Vladimirovich thought, - "Why is everyone some jumpy today?"
Hosting: Maverick.
