From Russia, No Love

Apart from the rare occasion of necessity, I rarely check Google Analytics. I prefer to let it accumulate for weeks and weeks so, when I look, it appears as if the entire world is reading the crimcaca I post. But the entire world is definitely not reading this, as evidenced by the cold shoulder Russia is sending my way. Nary a Russkie reader in sight.

This doesn’t really surprise me as I know very little about Russia, but what I do know is pretty freaking fascinating. We’ll begin with a list – because I love a list:

-       It’s butt ass cold

-       Its citizens get to wear furry muffs and boots year round because it’s butt ass cold

-       Mass capacities of vodka can be located in the pantry of every Russian

-       I’ve waved to it from Alaska

-       I wouldn’t say no to Putin or Medvedev if they asked me out

-      They got gas… I’m just sayin, but at least it’s the natural kind

Most of the important stuff I learned about our Slavic comrades came from National Geographic. Stop picturing tigers banging in Siberia. Rather, imagine Russian sex kittens practicing blowjob techniques on bananas (imported, of course).

As I read in an issue out last year that I won’t cite because I can’t remember and the NG website is a bitch to search, natural resources have allowed Russians to replicate their Rubles ad nauseum. Apparently, there are millionaires spilling out of every vodka lounge in Moscow.

The only problem? They’re Russian. I've yet to meet a Russian who warmed my nether regions, but then maybe there's a Vladimir out there with my name on him... 

But I digress. With a surge of newbie millionaires, there’s a corresponding surge in gold digging babushka’s. But these girls didn’t grow up in the lap of sophistication or hookery, so they need lessons on how to lure a man of many Rubles.

In a classic case of supply and demand, Russian women’s need for education in such “arts” led to the development of schools. Yes, schools where women learn to gold dig better. The aforementioned Blowjob 101 isn’t the only sexual skill imparted on them in these institutions of alternative education. They also get proper training in flirting, kissing and Kegel exercises (or cunny crunches as some may call them).

Shocked? Don’t be. I’m on my third set as I write this. Look, I just did one again. You didn’t even know, did you?

My memory may be adlibbing here - as it is wont to do - but I recall the mention of a course on how to fake it. Since most of the millionaires are lacking in areas of import for any young sexpot (they’re rich but often old) she needs to excel in the art of thinking one thing while appearing involved in another. So naturally, a course in sexual multitasking reached max enrollment.

Ever the skeptic, I wondered at the legitimacy of these schools as I read the article. After all, these women are skint on more than just morals. Many are investing their hard earned cash in these courses hoping to come out on the arm of a millionaire. But lucky me, as I read on, success rates for some of the schools were given and they weren’t too shabby.

I can’t remember the specifics - forgive me but I read magazines while elliptical’ing away which doesn’t lend itself to remembering details - but I will promise you’d be impressed. Plenty of “graduates” have landed men with more than a good stash of caviar.

Specific stats on the percent of learned ladies who have landed a millionaire with one foot in the grave and his Montblanc poised to his will revision weren’t given. A shame, I think, as it could be their best selling site for future enrollment.

From this article, I walked away with the impression that Russians are incredibly resourceful. Ready to rise to any occasion, whether it be rhythmic gymnastics, discothequeing or the triple axel. Resourcefulness is a quality I’ll take to the bank any day, even if it means waiting in line behind a Kegeling half-wit cashing her sugar daddy’s check.

But really, if you’re Russian or know one, show me a little post cold-war lovin’ and nod your fur-clad heads my way. And feel free to end your comments “From Russia, With Love” as I think it adds a certain something.

Because seriously, I’m so so Soviet, I swear.