Tuesday, August 07, 2007


Greetings, Comrades! I, Alexander Lukashenko, number 1 Playa and Dictator for Life, am here again to bring you state secrets and Barszcz recipes.

Apologies, Comrades, for my extended absence. I know how much you all missed your Boda. But I have been on a secret mission of the utmost secrecy! In the hopes of increasing grain production, I have personally infiltrated the innermost sanctum of the vile capitalist monster. What I have seen, Comrades, will shock and appall you...

After spending 40 days and 40 nights holed up in a cargo ship full of Beanie Babies, Stolichnaya, and mail-order brides, I silently jumped into the Hudson river, swam aground, traveled through the sewer systems of New York, had lunch, and emerged...I cleaned off my waterproof camera, and, comrades, witness what I saw:

Apparently this was some sort of Negroid God I was defiling on the Horizon. And we are afraid of these Americans? Ha! Nevertheless, their vile capitalist city air was stifling, so I quickly boarded a boxcar in search of the true America--where I could find their evil, beating heart.

After such a long journey, I had grown weak...at the first sign of civilization I hopped off the train, hoping to find a breadline.

Why do they need so many toys to run a simple train? The excess!

Dear comrades, believe it or not, your brave Boda was in danger...there was no breadline to be found! Apparently in America they have this thing called money, which you have to carry around so you can get bread in breadlines. And they call us inefficient and bureaucratic!

Luckily, a nice Pakistani explained this to me, right before telling me to, "stop loitering." I will go easy on his country when I command the world.

Your leader was in grave danger. With no bread lines to be found, I had to turn to generosity of the easily duped locals to provide for me while I completed my top secret mission. Luckily, I found a group of local vagrants who were more than willing to take me under their wing and into their capitalist cell as long as I promised to "not act like Borat." Who's Borat?

At first I thought they knew I was a spy, since instead of talking about how much they like money and their defeat of the USSR, they sat around and stared at a glowing box while telling dick jokes. I thought the box had some secrets, but it turned out that it was just listing things that one could get from waiting in line with money. I knew that they had accepted me as one of their own when they began their disgusting non-procreative American mating rituals and let me photograph it.

My new comrades were quick to accept me, since I had a "bitchin' 'stache". Even better, they were more than willing to show me their state secrets. Stupid Americans! We began our journey at a museum, with treasures to rival the Hermitage!

Look at how little respect these slimy Americans have for the proletariat!

Unfortunately, in order to not arouse their suspicion, your dear Boda had to join in as well. While holding the vile seductive potion of capitalist hegemony! Forgive me my countrymen!

Just be thankful we do not have this problem in Belarus:


Just kidding! It's only a replica. ISN'T BODA FUNNY!?!

Then my capitalist escorts introduced me to something called "Pirate Metal".

There's only two things Americans glorify more than theft and violence...

But for dirty Americans, a piece of meat that size is food for a night instead of a month. What excess and waste! In the old country, these three beautiful black bovines could have put a family of serfs through University

But instead of caressing and fondling these beauties, what do the Yankees do? The sick capitalistniks wrestle them to the ground and mark them with this strange symbol known as a "brand name," which I never knew you could have more than one of...

And then the Yankees chop off their testicles and horde them like bananas ration tickets at Christmastime.

Behold my minions, he is real: the Marlboro Man!

I wanted to shake his hand, but unfortunately I could not be tempted by his delicious, succulent free-market tobacco. For there is a mission to complete, my children.

Look, this house only holds one family. In my country, we would call this house "Brest."

The Americans also taught me how to truly blend in...

Behold! The true face of evil. Mothers, hide your children:

Men, prepare for combat! Grandmothers, harvest the grain! Children, manufacture bullets! Women, service your Boda! The time of war is at hand! By the blood of Marx and by the waxen corpse of Lenin, we will be triumphant. Let the invasion begin!



At 9:35 PM, Blogger Jason said...

OK I don't know if you guys ever check this blog any more but holly fuck that was the funniest shit I have read in a long time from beginning to end when I should have been working the last two days. Makes me really want to follow the route you guys took for my eastern Europe return trip. Last time I was there the wall was still up. Cheers from the left coast.

At 4:22 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ну что вы блять пропали вдвоем???

не концов не краев в интернете

мой мэйл: Zion1984@yandex.ru

Виктор Belarus


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