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This is the president of GAZ Group showing me one of the new GAZon trucks made by his plant in Nizhny Novogorod. I was not too impressed until he told me how many anti-war protesters could be clubbed and thrown in the back. He had me at “dozens”.

So maybe you heard that my girlfriend Alina Kabaeva is going to become the head of the National Media Group, yes? She is young. And beautiful. And also an ultra flexible gymnast, which is pretty fucking hot, I am not even going to lie. And if you so much as look at her I will have you dragged into the woods and shot. You are looking at her right now, are you not? Goddammit!

This regional governor was boring the shit out of me with harvest yield numbers or some other such nonsense. And I could not help reaching for the hidden button under my desk which activates the trap door to drop this fucking peasant into the pit of rabid wolves I keep in the Kremlin basement.

Here I am taking a final inspection of the 300-vehicle aid convoy I am sending to break the siege of Donetsk. You would not believe how much food and medical supplies you can fit in the back of an armoured personnel carrier full of soldiers and weapons. Surprisingly little, actually.

Look at all the delicious food that…what!? I can no longer buy any of this because it is from America and it is banned?! Who the fuck banned it!? Oh, I did? To get back at America for their sanctions over Ukraine? Ah, shit. Now I am hungry.

What? British Ambassador to the US Sir Peter Westmacott called me a thug and a liar in the press?! Good thing he did not say that to my face or I would have offered to shake his hand and forgive him before sucker-punching him in the goddamn throat.

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