Vladimir Putin Will Fuck You Up!

And here I am disconnecting this man from the equipment needed to save his life, because that’s what happens when you don’t snap to attention and salute the moment I enter a room. What?! He was in a coma? Well, he’s not in a coma anymore.

Alright, who’s up for a quick joyride across the Georgian border?  Oh, did I say “across”?! I totally meant “to”. To the Georgian border. Bah, we don’t actually have to cross it, anyway. We can just shell the goddamn Georgians from our side.

You know how you can tell when you are the Boss? People will stand waiting and soldiers will open massive fucking gold doors when you enter the room to be sworn in as President of Russia. Also, you will be me. But you are not me. Because I am the Boss.

I’m not even watching a 3-D movie in this picture. I’m just wearing the glasses because why the fuck not?

Why do you look so sad, little soldier? It’s not like I’m going to send you to Chechnya. But really, I’m sending you to Chechnya.

The best thing about building a massive funeral pyre for the bodies of your enemies is that it’s easy to be rid of the evidence. Also, you get to keep warm. So that’s really two best things in one, is it not? Fuck, I am good.

Leonardo DifuckingCaprio. Here he is begging to play me in the story of my life. Who is he fucking kidding? He’s not handsome enough.

You need a stethoscope to measure a normal human heart. But mine is so fucking powerful you can feel each beat from, like, four inches away.

Okay, but seriously. Fuck is this guy wearing on his head?!

Yes, I do bicep curls with gold fucking bars. Do you want to make something of it?!