From international pariah to co-president of the world, in the course of a single phone call. And all at the invitation of your old friend Donnie. Patience really pays off, doesn’t it Vlad?

Never mind the illegal invasion of Ukraine and the hundreds of thousands of resultant casualties; forget about the punishing sanctions that have thrown your own economy into a tailspin; and don’t worry about that pesky arrest warrant issued against you by the International Criminal Court. Because Donnie has your back. He’s even suggested that you visit him in Washington, and that he would love to hop across the Atlantic for a little get-together on your home turf.

And all you had to do was wait until President Joe Biden — who called you a “pure thug,” a “brutal tyrant,” and a “murderous dictator” — was no longer in office.

All in order that you and your buddy can decide the fate of a third nation, carving it up to your satisfaction . . . and to hell with the Ukrainian people and their right to sovereignty. So that you, despite your protestations of willingness to negotiate, will ultimately get all, or at least most, of what you want: about 20% of Ukraine’s territory, including all of that valuable Black Sea coastline; the hope of NATO membership being snatched away from Ukraine; a re-written Ukrainian constitution; and a new, more friendly president sitting in Kyiv. In other words, an impotent shell of the proud country its people worked so hard to build.

And what will Ukraine get in return? A withdrawal of your troops? Your assurances that they will hereafter be left in peace? Big f**king deal! You know what that’s worth, don’t you?

Not a bloody kopek!

Because what they’ll really get is forced Russification.

*. *. *

And, even more important than the ability to declare victory in your barbaric war of attrition, you get to step out onto the world stage again, front and center.

Just as you wormed your way from KGB apparatchik stationed in East Germany; to chief scrounger for Mayor Sobchak in St. Petersburg; to indispensable bagman for Boris Yeltsin in Moscow; to the top of the KGB’s successor security agency, the FSB; and right on into the “oval office” in the Kremlin . . . so have you now slithered back into the good graces of the new guy in the real Oval Office in Washington.

Well, congratulations to you both — you’re a well-matched pair. It’s just a tragedy that your coupling means the rest of the world gets royally screwed.

Nero had nothing on you.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
2/14/25