September 13, 2011
Russia: If I move there Sarah Palin will be able to see me from her house. And that’s just all kinds of creepy.
So The Hub came home from work one day last week and said “What do you think about Saint Petersburg, Russia?” And I said “I don’t.” And he said “Maybe you should Google it.” And I said “Why?” Assuming, of course that maybe they have an abundance of tiny animals or an entire city of little people or a big-ass Unicorn Ranch or a castle made out of PEZ and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups or something like that. But The Hub said “We have some projects going on there at work and it seems like someplace that would be interesting to move to.”
So I Google “Saint Petersburg Russia, tiny animals, tiny people, candy castle, unicorns,” and you know what I get? Nothing related in any way to tiny animals, tiny people, or candy castles. There is, however, something called “Unicorn Trails”. And I got all excited until I clicked on it and realized it is just horseback riding and they are totally false advertising and trying to draw you in with horrible terrible lies. It’s a bunch of crap. The horses aren’t even white, like unicorns. They’re brown. Like turds. And the people riding them are wearing Cowboy Hats. Like posers. Russian posers. If you’re gonna go calling yourself freakin’ “Unicorn Trails” you better mother-effin’ back that name up with at least some white horses, some glittery tin foil “horns”, and some people wearing shiny crowns or those fancy headbands with little glittery bouncy crap on the ends of springs. Not stupid cowboy hats for f@ck’s sake.
As far as I can tell, no little things live in Russia. At all. Everyone’s big. I think their babies even come out fully grown. And not even by C-Section. And everyone there has an accent that makes me think of the scarred-up bad guys from James Bond movies who want nothing more than to throw you in shark tanks or pull your fingernails out.
A few years ago I saw a movie about a bunch of Russian’s called “Eastern Promises.” It starred Viggo Mortenson. Viggo Mortenson is super-duper sexy, super-duper dangerous and super-duper yummy. But guess what? He’s Danish. He was just pretending to be Russian. That, dear people, is called acting. And to be totally honest, ever since I saw him in that movie where he was having sex with Gwyneth Paltrow and then had a chance to murder her for money but didn’t do it, I’ve kinda lost respect for him. Cuz most people would probably murder Gwyneth Paltrow for free. Or at least for a gift card to Applebees. But this dude passed up a chance to get paid huge money to do it. Which means he is very very stupid. But I digress.
In this movie, I learned that Russian’s are hairy. They like track suits and gold chains. They like dress suits only if they are shiny. You can’t understand what the hell they’re saying. They are mean. They like to smoke. They like to be in the mob. And, oh yeah…they like to kidnap girls and sell them into prostitution. Which I am not super-thrilled about. At all.
And I know that I’m possibly generalizing here. But this is alls I know. Except for the fact that Russian’s like to beat us at Gymnastics and the women often look like that female football coach on Glee. Or Beulah Ballbreaker from Porky’s. Which means that I’m almost certainly gonna get kidnapped and sold into sex slavery due to the fact that I am probably cuter than most of the women there. And that’s not even conceited. It’s just a fact. Probably. Remember that Masseuse I told you guys about a long time ago? The one who started spanking my naked butt for no apparent reason and I was too scared of her Andre The Giant hands to try and stop her? Russian. So The Hub will definitely have to hire me a bodyguard. And have a tracking device implanted under my skin. And pay for me to take even more Karate and Krav Maga lessons so I can be super prepared to kick some Russian Mobster ass. And I guess I would need to start digging Vodka drinks instead of margaritas. And do they even have access to avocados over there? And what the hell would become of my Babycado Orchard?
There are childless avocado loving Americans depending on me, dammit!
And guess what I read about the weather in Saint Petersburg. It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s humid, And in May through July the sun only goes down for an hour each night. The good part about that is the fact that you are much less likely to get bitten by a Vampire. But the bad part is everything else. In fact, the only positive thing I can see about moving to Russia would be that I could get more use out of my Beaker hat. And I loves my Beaker hat.
I also have the distinct feeling that my woman mustache will not be out of place in Russia. I might just blend right on in.
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