My husband doesn’t know this, but I’ve been having a mad affair with Vladimir Putin for many moons now.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t terribly interested in him at first. He seemed like another potential lap dog for Bush until he started peeing on the president’s leg. I’m not pro-Russia by any means, they are doing plenty to cause me concern, but then there was Vlad. Yummy, yummy Vlad in his tank top, Vlad practicing judo, Vlad in his smart suits, Vlad in uniform, Vlad shirtless and wearing fatigues while gutting a fish…

Have you seen Bush in a uniform? Looks like my seven-year old nephew playing dress-up. Vlad wears his military gear with absolute authority.

I’m not blind to all the ruckus he’s causing. It’s just that he’s so- so- so bloody Russian…it makes me want to toss back a few vodka shots and try to knock his astrakahn askew. He’s just so baaaaad…

But I’m a mature woman, I know these bad-boy relationships are wrong and I don’t have to tell you they rarely work out. Of course, there’s the first-blush novelty of Vlad’s skill in killing a man with his thumbs and who wouldn’t drool over a comrade who can hot-wire a nuclear warhead blindfolded? It’s just that eventually, I’ll start to criticize him for all those qualities that made me love him in the first place and I know I’ll try to change him.

First it will be his hair, then his foreign policy. I’ll try to get him to open up and share his hopes and fears and true thoughts on a free-market economy, a conversation that will only leave us both sad and frustrated. My friends will start to tell me he’s all wrong for me, and I’ll counter that he just so darn cute when he mandates a national holiday for people to have sex and propagate the species…oh, Vladimir…you’re so naughty…

But alas, it is not meant to be. No, Vladimir, don’t look at me that way! We have different goals in life. I want a little house in the country, with a yard and a view of a fully functioning United Nations, while you want…? Well, what do you want? A reformation of the Eastern Block under a unipolar Mother Russia? You see, you just don’t communicate.

So, au revoir, Vladimir. My heart is breaking, but it is for the best. We both know that it is. Try to move on, you’ll find someone else. I’ll always think of you fondly….call me….

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