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Health & Fitness

"The Road To Kiev" Starring Vladimir Putin

by Greg Morelli

Russian speakers, ethnic Russians, expats who fled Moscow to live peacefully in Kiev, none of them are crying out for the protection of Vladimir Putin. Unfortunately, the same thing can’t be said of Gay Kids currently living within the borders of Russia, or the punk rock girls of penal colony #28 in Perm, Pussy Riot.

Go home, Vladimir. Stop sending your ego abroad to re-create Hitler’s 1930 Volksdeutsche Fantasy. Volksdeutsche is German for Compassionate Conservatism.

Speaking of saber rattling, John McCain needs a blow job. If Cindy thinks of herself as too high class for rug burns on her knees, send in a willing intern, someone with a power fetish, female or male, someone who craves ill-begotten rage mixed with a salty aftertaste.

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I tried watching Vladimir Putin’s press conference. But it wasn’t a press conference. When you field a series of questions for the sole purpose of tossing them aside to make room for a rant which is little more than maniacal stream-of-consciousness, you’re not in a press conference, you’re in an early, dreadfully uncomfortable workshop for a One Man Show.

Sorry to say, Vladimir, your staged production was premature.

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The beats are non-existent. The controlling idea is out of control. Your intention is less intentional than it is narcissistic. The event is chaotic. The dialog is too on the nose. No one believes in the protagonist. Worst of all, “The Road To Kiev” is coming across less as the righteous journey of a hero and more as the vanity project of a head case.

The table reading was a flop. Go home, Vladimir.

I admire you for putting yourself out there. We all admire you for putting yourself out there. There’s no shame in bombing on stage. The shame is a result of not taking the meaningful lesson from your failure.

So far, it’s a $10 billion dollar disaster.

It could be worse, much worse. Take for example the notorious flop “Either You’re With Us Or Against Us,” the One Man Show of George W. Bush. It was $2.6 trillion dollar disaster. Plus $128 billion dollars, the petty cash surplus blown on craft services.

Speaking of swallowing your pride, it’s easier than you think. Day One, you’ll look bad. Day Two, you’ll wonder what the big deal was on Day One. Day Three, Matthew McConaughey will post a selfie on Twitter of himself jerking off to a rendering of his future self, and life as we know it will return to normal.

Da, Vladimir.

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