Monday, December 20, 2010
I am hoping that this letter is finding you well although of course I am knowing that this is not the case. Speaking of case I had sent you for a Christmas present one case of most excellent Russian vodka from my own personal cellar. When I say I had sent I should make it clear that I mean that I had thought of this and of course as they say that is what counts. I was going to send and then I was realized that sending such an expensive gift was only feeding Western capitalist commercial machine that blockhead Charlie Brown said was ruining Christmas. Little guy with blanket and speech impediment had true meaning of Christmas as he said in monologue. That was good documentary, yes? I especially enjoyed the dancing of the children and have instructed cabinet to reenact once an hour for my enjoyment. Although I have found no dog that can play guitar or read newspaper. I think perhaps that was some sort of trickery of camera, which is no less than I expect from Westerners.
Also you are richer than Tsar and can buy your own vodka I think. As a matter of fact I am wondering where is my Christmas present? You are selfish Komrade! West has made you fat and soft like grizzly bear Penner, eating cheeseburgers as he lazily carries team on his back. Where is my vodka! WHERE! WHERE!
I am sorry Komrade. I am emotional wreck, like child who has had toy soldier taken away, or in my case actual soldiers and power second only to American president, Queen of England, the masons and Colonel Sanders. The news of your injury hit me like glasnost, crushing my hopes and dreams. To be truth, I was going to send you delicious vodka as present but I have been drinking it, bottle by bottle. In my stupor I stagger around Kremlin like gigantic Nick Nolte at film festival, incoherent and rambling. Perhaps more like Gary Oldman, who is 'cool' and also 'badass' as the American teenagers like to say. That is the image I like to project. It is very good for meeting the ladies! Unfortunately right now I have no such interest. I am bereft and am yearning for old days when I could send tanks somewhere for amusement or have cabinet minister tortured and shot to relieve stress. It is not easy being leader, as you well know.
It is very sad Komrade, this injury to your knee. Your play was exemplary and was going to bring great glory to Soviet sporting machine. Playing with youngsters and leading the way for them. They will be great players this Eberle and Hall. I am certain that their grandparents must have come from Caucasus certainly, no Canadian could be so good without some trace of Slavic blood. Some day they will bring glory to Edmonton but for now they follow your lead, like young lions following gigantic leader of pride. You are like Lion King, with gigantic lion cock and lion balls, impregnating all of the lionesses with your powerful semen and everyone can do nothing but watch and wonder at the, er, immense presence among them.
It is good though to see you back in good graces of fans. Why the fans do not like good veteran players is beyond me. By the way did you see old friend Fernando last night? Winning goal, first PK unit and on the ice in last minute to win game. He is not done yet but Tambellini did not want him, instead keeping Jacques. Bah! Anyways it is nice to see fans cheer good old number ten although personally I prefer to be feared than loved.
I am sure though that this is just a momentary setback Komrade. As you may have guessed by my references to Gary Oldman and Nick Nolte I have been boning (heh) up on Americans and their dissolute ways in best possible way, by watching their cinema. And it is always happy ending, much like Stalingrad, unless you were German. So I am sure that things will be A-OK and hunky dory.
Speaking of these movies I must ask if you have seen Anatomy of Sasha Grey. My God that is some crazy shit. I like my porno but so much of it is like Penthouse letters. A girl is sitting at desk and then pizza guy with enormous member walks in and the strange music starts and next thing you know it is blowjob time. This is not real life. This does not happen. It would be like getting handjob on Greyhound bus. It is impossible. Only bloggers stoned on cheezie dust and cream soda would believe such fantasies.
But this Sasha Grey, my God I am without speech. Unbelievable.
Speaking of Penthouse though I always thought that was bullshit until one day I was in my office. It was Tuesday which I remember because Tuesdays are 'Fantasy Tuesdays' here at Kremlin. I lock myself in office and plan return to glory of motherland with detailed invasion plots. I see myself on white stallion leading tanks into some small European backwater, it is very invigorating.
So on this day we were invading Bulgaria. It was very exciting Komrade! Needless to say I had quite a large boner thinking of burning Sofia into ashes when I hear knock on the door. Who is it but new member (heh) of presidential guard. She is enormous like linebacker, from fine peasant stock from Crimea, where my dacha is as you know. I have weakness for Crimean peasants. She has enormous jugs like enormous pillows full of jello and her ass is like back end of Sikorosky traktor. When I saw the look in her eye I knew it would be my lucky day not once but twice! I would conquer the Bulgars and this enormous mountain!
I am sorry Komrade, I am always easily distracted by the talk of jet fighters and big boobs. I guess I am just a boy underneath bad ass leather clad facade. Which is good to be boy because Khristmas is for the children after all.
I am hoping that you drink much vodka over the holidays and that the knee injury does not prevent you from enjoying vigourous sex. Now excuse me I must retire to my office. I am planning invasion of Anaheim. We will cut off cheapshot artist Corey Perry's head and mount it at entrance to visitor's dressing room at ancient collapsing arena that you call home. And we will leave his body to the rats that must certainly infest that facility. Oh and thank Komrade Katz for nice cheque and tell him what I just said. It will please him so.
Your pal, Vlad!
Posted by Black Dog at 2:15 PM